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#but midnight came and my dash activity was dead
and-claudia · 2 years
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If the World Was Ending (Crosshair x fem! reader)
I got this idea forever ago and wrote it forever ago but wasn't ever sure if I was going to post it, but I decided why not. It's based off the song If The World Was Ending by JP Saxe and Julia Michaels
word count: 1252
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Crosshair PoV
Even late at night, the skylanes over Coruscant were busy. Currently, it was at a dead standstill. Hunter had finally convinced Tech to turn in for the night so Echo and I were flying the ship now. I really wasn’t paying too much attention though… we were on Coruscant… she was on Coruscant. Of course, my mind was on her. “You good, man?” Echo brought me out of my thoughts. I just glanced at him before focusing my attention ahead. “How long has it been since you talked to her?” He asked. I hesitated before answering. “Almost 2 months.” “Hey, that’s progress.” He said, trying to be encouraging. I only nodded. I zoned out until I heard an alarm coming from my datapad. Glancing at it I saw in bold letters: seismic quake warning! Shit. Yn. I glanced at the time… it wasn’t even midnight yet. Was she out drinking with friends? It was the weekend after all. Or maybe she was having a night in, watching a holofilm. Staring at my datapad I debated messaging her. Just to make sure she was okay. How would she react? We split a year ago, and I just finally figured out how to let communication between us die out. But that didn’t mean I stopped loving her. I would always love her. Fuck it. I grabbed it forcefully and began typing out a message to her.
Hey, I just made it to Coruscant and saw the warning. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. That you were safe. If you need anything let me know.
Reader PoV I was sitting at home, reading when it happened. I saw the warning on my datapad: seismic quake warning!I wasn’t scared. In fact, I didn’t think too much about it at first. They had been making more and more lower levels of the city and it was causing more seismic activity. But I should’ve listened to it. It started out subtly, I could see the water in my glass begin swaying. Then quickly the whole building began to shake violently. I stood quickly and dashed into the kitchen to get under the table there. Once it was over I slowly got out from under it and began to assess the damage. Luckily it didn’t look like there was too much. Until I saw it. The last picture of me and the boys. It had fallen off the wall and shattered. That of course made me think of him. I thought back to the night we all went drinking and Crosshair and I came back to my place. We were both a stumbling mess and couldn’t even make it past the kitchen. I tripped and he tried to help me up only to fall beside me and we both fell into a fit of laughs. Then we stayed there the whole night. Just laughing, talking, and enjoying being with one another. Usually thinking of him like this would bring back all the feelings of the night we split. It would feel like my heart was being ripped from my chest. It’s gotten easier now though.
But that didn’t stop me from thinking of him right now. Was there any possibility he was in Coruscant right now? I doubt it. But if he was, how would he have reacted? 
We haven’t talked in two months. That didn’t stop me from finding my way over to my datapad though and typing up a message to him: 
Hey, I know we haven’t spoken in a while. Just wanted to check up, and see how you were doing. Maybe next time you’re on Coruscant we can meet up for caf or something. 
I was going to regret it but I hit send. 
Crosshair PoV: 
Just as I sent it I received a message. I was so sure that it was going to say that she had blocked me that I almost didn’t look at it. 
Hey, I know we haven’t spoken in a while. Just wanted to check up, and see how you were doing. Maybe next time you’re on Coruscant we can meet up for caf or something. 
Of course, I wanted to see her again. But we broke up for a reason. Would seeing her bring back old feelings that hadn’t quite gone away yet? How do I respond? 
Yn PoV 
Right as I sent it a message came back. Maybe he was out of range to revive my message. 
Hey, I just made it to Coruscant and saw the warning. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. That you were safe. If you need anything let me know. 
Fuck. He was here. What do I say back? I wanted to see him. But I knew if I did, the love I still had for him would demand to be felt. 
Before I could register what was happening, I was calling him. He answered immediately. 
“Are you okay?” He asked immediately. 
“Yeah.. you?” 
“Yeah, we’re stuck in traffic so we didn’t actually feel it.” 
“Oh… it wasn’t too bad. They’ve been happening a lot lately. My main concern is the aftershocks.” I explained. 
He hummed in response. 
“Look what if I came over.” 
“Would you come over?”  
We spoke at the same time. Our tones were rushed, desperate almost. 
We both stayed quiet, neither of us wanting to make the first move. I decided to bite the bullet. 
“Look, I know we agreed that we weren’t meant to last forever. And I know the consequences, but just this one night, please come over. Stay the night. Please.” My voice was soft as I spoke. 
The reason why we split was because we both knew we wouldn’t get long together. He was a clone. I knew that. I knew what came along with that as well. He wasn’t willing to do that to me. He loved me too much to do that to me. And I was grateful for that, might as well have a comparatively small heartbreak of a breakup rather than a huge one from losing him completely. 
“Of course. I’ll be there soon.” 
Crosshair PoV 
“Can you take me to her place?” I asked Echo. 
Little did I know he was already pulling out of the lane of traffic we were in. 
“Already ahead of you.” He said with a sigh. 
He dropped me at her building and I walked into the main lobby. As we flew down, I noticed none of the buildings were as illuminated as they normally were. The grid must have been knocked out. 
I got out after thanking Echo and made my way into the lobby. The emergency lights gave just enough glow for me to see her waiting by the door to the stairs. 
I stayed silent as I approached her. Once I was close enough, she threw her arms around me despite the fact I was still in my armor save for my helmet that I left on the ship. Without any hesitation, I melted into the hug. 
“Hi, sweetheart.” I whispered. 
She pulled back just enough to look up at me. Her smile brought one of my own to my face. 
“Thank you… the power went out shortly after I called. I knew I wouldn’t make it through the night.” She confessed. 
She had confided in me when we were together that even though she was a grown adult, she was still scared of the dark. 
“Well don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”
Crosshair Taglist:
@fan-g0rl
@alexxavicry
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scottstiles · 7 years
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Lydia Martin Appreciation Week 2017 Day 1: Favorite Hairstyles
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uwuwriting · 4 years
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Breaking in pt.2 w/ Aizawa, Shinsou and Bakugou
Request: Hi!! SoooOO I recently found your stuff and it's safe to say I am ✨obsessed✨ I LOVED the post you did of the BNHA reacting to someone breaking in with Hawks, Dabi and Todoroki. I was wondering if you could do another one with like Shinsou, Bakugou and Aizawa. I feel like Baku would throw mad HANDS. love your work stay stuff and have a good day x - anonymous
Okay I too love rescue fics and being kidnapped or held hostage is one of my favorite tropes. Throwing your kids in the mix is immaculat at least for me because I’m a die hard fan of domestic AUs. So of course I’m gonna write this trope again with these three idiots. I enjoyed writing the previous one so hehheehehehhe. Love ya. 💖💖💖
masterlist II rules
warnings: some descriptions of violence, some crying but fluff/comfort in the end. 
Aizawa Shota II a son (Kaito)
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-He was running late. 
-He hated running late.
-Today the class had extra training hours and it lasted longer than he expected, so much so that he had to call for someone to fill in his spot on patrol tonight. 
-In reality he really wanted to spend the night at home with you and your 2 year old son, canceling his patrol because the kids didn’t finish training was just an excuse. 
-He had shot you a text informing you that he would be home tonight but a little later than usual. 
-You had just picked up Kaito from his aunt when you got Aizawa’s message. 
-You were excited to spend some time with your husband. 
-Between your time teaching and his midnight patrols, the only moments you truly got to spend with him were in between the classes or when he came home for dinner and then immediately left. 
-You knew he felt bad leaving the two of you alone for so long and you knew he beat himself up for missing precious time with his son. 
-Opening your apartment door you were met with complete silence which was odd. 
-Usually your three cats, Mochi, Mocha and Coco would meet you at the door, mewing and purring at your feet, Kaito always wanting to be put down so he could pet them. 
-Now though none of them came and you immediately knew something was up. 
-Your spidey senses were tingling. 
-Setting your stuff down you held Kaito closer to you as you slowly walked around your living room and kitchen. 
-Nothing seemed amiss.
-Kaito let out a small whimper and shifted in your grip as something moved behind you.
-Just because you retired from being a hero doesn’t mean your skills have disappeared. 
-Oh no, as a new mom you were hyper aware of your surroundings and you easily dodged the blow that was aimed at your head. 
-Whipping around you came face to face with a hooded figure that seemed more like a burglar than a villain. 
-The dude's eyes quickly landed on Kaito and he let out a shaky breath. 
-They definitely weren’t villains.
-People were aware of Aizawa’s family and any villain who tried to get to him through you would have known about Kaito’s existence. 
- “Shit…. Yo she has a kid!” 
-Another one came pounding from the hallway, eyes quickly landing on the baby you had clutched to your chest. 
-Letting out an exasperated sigh the second intruder rolled his eyes, grabbing an umbrella from the hanger and slowly making his way towards you. 
-  “Just knock her out and tie her up, put the kid in a crib or something.” 
-You weren’t about to let them touch your son, they wouldn’t even be able to come remotely near him. 
-Activating your quirk, thrumming filled the air as you were prepared to fight them, to keep them away from the crying child in your arms and that’s when you saw him. 
-He is always so silent, his footsteps so gentle on the marble floor of your apartment that you have convinced yourself that he is indeed half cat at this point. 
-Aizawa was burning holes at the back of their heads, hair up as he activated his quirk, cancelling theirs. 
-You kissed Kaito as Shota let his capture tool fly across the room successfully trapping the two burglars. 
-In six strides you were next to him, checking for injuries on each other while simultaneously trying *and failing mostly* to calm your 2 year old down. 
-The police were called, naming this whole incident as a random burglary and not a scheduled attack, relieving both of you; you didn’t wanna move again. 
-That night Kaito slept in your room, cuddled on Aizawa’s chest as you were nestled under his arm. 
-Three fur balls were curled at the foot of your shared bed, purring away lulling you to sleep. 
-You found those three locked in your bathroom.
-Apparently Mocha had scratched the living hell out of one of the burglars and they had locked all of them in the bathroom for safe measure.
- “I’m sorry for this.”
- “Burglaries happen Shota, it wasn’t your fault. I’m glad you came when you did, fighting while holding Kaito would have been kinda difficult. I think I might be getting kinda rusty.”
-He stroked Kaito’s plush cheek before letting out a sigh. 
- “I have never seen him cry like that. When he sees me he always calms down but now-”
- “He was scared, Shota. He saw them before I did and the whole situation shook him up. But he’ll be fine, he’s got us.” 
-Giving you a kiss and then placing another one on his son’s forehead, he closed his eyes, arms tightening around the both of you a little. 
Shinsou Hitoshi II a daughter (Kei)
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-Hitoshi had been to every single pharmacy in the area searching for Kei’s medication. 
-She had gotten sick and you had asked him to fetch some antibiotics your pediatrician had suggested you give her if her fever didn’t go down.
-Now, Hitoshi was getting desperate. 
-It was the flu season and almost all the pharmacies had emptied their shelves from this particular antibiotic. 
-He was ready to pull his hair out. 
-Apart from that, he also hated leaving you alone like this. 
-You both needed him at the moment and he wasn’t helping at all. 
-Kei was suffering from her fever while you were about 7 weeks pregnant and he was out here running around like a maniac. 
-In one last desperate attempt he entered another pharmacy and to his surprise they had what he was looking for and he was out the door in a flash, leaving the store without giving the clerk enough time to say a single ‘thank you, come again.’ 
-Sprinting home, he dashed into your apartment complex and up the stairs, fumbling for his keys as he neared your door only to find it already ajar. 
-Slowing down he looked at the open entryway; he was sure he closed it on the way out. 
-Why hadn’t you closed it? 
-Pushing it open he came face to face with a disheveled living room, Kei’s toys scattered everywhere while one of your armchairs was knocked over. 
-A small whimper suddenly pierced the air and Hitoshi would recognize his daughter’s cries from anywhere. 
-A deep voice told her to shut up which was answered by your angry voice threatening to beat the living shit out of them if they touched her. 
-With silent steps, Hitoshi tiptoed to your daughter’s room where he could hear the talking only to stop dead in his tracks when shuffling came from your bedroom. 
-Another figure emerged from your bedroom halting once they saw Shinsou. 
- “What th-”
- “Sleep.” 
-Without bothering to check if the intruder passed out, Hitoshi pushed open the door, his anger radiating all around him at the very thought that someone had touched his family. 
-The second person whipped around at the sound of the door opening, eyes wide as they met Hitoshi’s, fumbling to activate their quirk. 
-They made the fatal mistake of speaking though and soon they were unconscious just like their friend, laying on the pastel carpet of Kei’s room. 
-In one swift motion he had Kei in his arms and untied your wrists, rubbing the irritated skin and checking for injuries. 
-Kei wouldn’t calm down, her grip on his shirt turned to iron once the police dragged them out of your house. 
- “I wish I could beat their ass.” 
- “You know you can’t use your quirk right now kitten.” 
- “Yeah but they pissed me off.” 
-Your doctor had forbidden quirk use during the pregnancy and that’s why those two morons had managed to catch you. 
-The scowl on your face had become almost permanent and Shinsou couldn’t decide if he should find it cute or terrifying.
-Kei became attached to Hitoshi’s chest.  
-Hitoshi refused to let her go just like she refused to let him go, staying in his embrace for the rest of the day, any attempt to get her away from him resulting in tears. 
-You are kinda salty but some ice cream will fix that. 
Bakugou Katsuki II A son (Tatsuo)
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- “Okay kids, you have a nice weekend and don’t forget to finish your family portraits for Monday. Tatsuo and I would love to see them.” 
-A multitude of goodbyes came through the screen as your kindergarten class, some of your students even opened their cameras to wave at you and your son who was sitting on your lap. 
-Tatsuo babbled back at them, little byes leaving his lips as he too waved back at your laptop. 
-Being in quarantine wasn’t that bad for a kindergarten teacher. 
-Your online classes weren’t difficult to manage and you got to spend more time with your two year old son. 
-The class loved seeing him and would ask if he was joining them each morning. 
-Closing your laptop, you hugged your mini Katsuki as you started heating up his milk. 
-You were humming, gently rocking him as you waited for the milk, giving him stray kisses here and there just to see his little nose scrunch up reminding you of Katsuki more and more everyday. 
-Checking your phone for any new messages, you let out a sigh at your husband’s message saying he was coming home; that was thirty minutes ago. 
-Hero work didn’t let up despite the quarantine. 
-Bakugou was as busy as ever, leaving first thing in the morning and most of the time returning home late in the afternoon sometimes staying out even after midnight. 
-Today though he had managed to get off earlier than usual, promising to cook for both of you tonight. 
-You knew he wanted to spend more time with Tatsuo and the fact that he was gone for the majority of the day was eating him up. 
-He was so worried that he was neglecting his son; he even convinced himself that Tatsuo would soon come to hate him. 
-Your son on the other hand was attached to Katsuki’s hip, always searching for his dad in the morning and beaming when Katsu came home. 
-He could never hate him. 
-The sound of the door opening snapped you out of your little Katsuki infused dream state. 
-Turning around you expected to see your husband in the living room, arms stretched out as he smiled at the two of you. 
-But you were met with three strangers; three hooded strangers holding a crowbar and two bags. 
-It was a staring contest for a solid five minutes before either of you moved. 
-One of them noticed Tatsuo and nudged his “coworker” who then informed the leader of the trio. 
- “Better not make a sound sweetheart, I’d hate hurting that pretty little face of yours.” 
-He took a step forward only for you to take a step back, until your back hit the cupboard. 
-He let out a chuckle and motioned for his rookies to search the place as he continued walking towards you. 
-Tastuo was gripping your shirt, eyes trained on the man, his brows downcast in anger. 
-Your phone lit up on the counter and in one swift move you grabbed it, pressing your emergency call button as the intruder rounded the counter. 
-You sprinted for the front door just as Katsuki picked up only to be grabbed by one of the other two and dragged back inside the house, Katsuki’s yells echoing through the phone. 
-Now you are aware that your husband is one of the top pro heroes. 
-You know that in order to rise to the top charts in this industry you need to have certain attributes like strength, tactical thinking ….speed. 
-You felt him more than saw him. 
-You were wrestling to get the hands of the intruder off of you when you felt the windows rattle. 
-And before you knew it, your husband had tackled the man holding you to the floor, knocking him unconscious with a single punch before pouncing on the other two. 
-Tatsuo was letting out small hiccups as tears rolled down his cheeks, his grip on your shirt never wavering but he refused to sob. 
-He had his father’s pride okay? Even at the age of two. 
-Katsuki had you both in his arms in a flash, calling the police before checking both of you over for injuries and what not. 
- “Did they hurt you? I swear I’ll kill them if they did.” 
-  “We are fine Katsu, just a little shaken.” 
-The moment Tatsuo was in Katsuki’s arms he began to cry, burying his face in his dad’s chest still holding on to your shirt. 
-It took an eternity to calm him down and even longer to put him to sleep, even though he was sleeping in your bed. 
-The next morning Katsuki was on the news for marching to the police station and beating the living hell out of the burglars. 
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tinyyoungblood · 4 years
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romance, eh? | peter parker
summary: it’s the broken main characters typeshi where they don’t think they deserve love, but over the course of the movie, they help each other and fall in love. football fields and late night drives. it’s kinda cute
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pairing: peter parker x reader
trope: best friends to lovers
warning: language, very fluffy
a/n: i’ve resurrected from the dead, waddup <3
* * *
You were sat at the porch of your house, tossing rocks down the driveway and watching them skip toward a puddle. The sound of splashing water was the only source of entertainment as you were seemingly the only person alive in this town. When you realized that you had finally run out of stones to throw, you considered hurling the gnome down the driveway but decided against it and instead, patted your pockets in an attempt to locate your phone. To your surprise, it started ringing the second you held it in your palm. Peter’s name flashed boldly across the screen, illuminating your face. You answered the call and stood up.
“Where the hell are you?”
Loud rustling was on the other side of the line, and you squinted down the road in search of any approaching cars.
Finally, his familiar voice rang through the phone’s speakers. “Y/N, fuck, I’m—ow.” You heard a car door shut, and a string of curse words lingered at the tip of your tongue.
“Oh God, you’re not telling me you’re still at home, are you? Please tell me, you just closed the door to get out of your car and not in.” Absolute silence followed, and you could practically see him sit still like a deer caught in headlights. A beat followed before he replied carefully.
“What if I tell you I just entered a very sketchy dance battle in the middle of the forest and now it takes me 10 to 15, maybe even 20 minutes, to kick ass and get out of here?”
You took a deep breath and dragged your feet back to the porch, shunning it with a glare. “Parker, I swear to God, if I hear you turn on the engine right now, I’m going to set your Star Wars collection on fire.”
You heard him mumble something on the other side of the line, but were only able to pick out a soft “not cool”. The clanking of keys occurred next and before you knew it, the engine was yanked to life, making you groan loudly. “I hate you.”
You heard him set the phone down with a chuckle, switching to speaker. “I’ll get over it. Just don’t touch my Star Wars.”
You slumped back on the porch and grimaced at the spider web hanging above your head. Scooting away from it, you let your back hit the wooden ground, phone still pressed against your ear. “Just hurry up,” You murmured, defeat and exhaustion instilling a softness in your voice. He cooed at you.
“Don’t worry, I know there’s never any parking space on Thursdays, but I’ll run all the way from the parking lot to your house. Actually, I’ll start running the second this car is parked—no, wait, I’ll start running while I’m still in the car—”
“Peter,” you cut him off, knowing he could go on forever but still somehow end up not coming at all. “Just drive safely, okay? I’ll see you in a bit.”
“Fine,” he replied, “but I’ll have you know that I have now stomped two holes into the car’s floor to get to you Flintstone style. That’s the dedication we’re working with here.” A subtle click followed, signaling that he had ended the call.
Light laughter bubbled over your lips, and you shook your head at your best friend’s words. He was a dumbass, but at least he could make you laugh. One of the many reasons, you adored him. The rest of your life could be spent listing off the other reasons, but even in the afterlife, you wouldn’t be halfway done. You didn’t bother to sit up, opting to just lay on your back until either he would arrive or a passer-by would mistake you for a corpse and call the police. Whatever came first.
The next few minutes were waste of time. Now and then, a glance would be cast at the display of your phone, but that was really how far it went with the physical activity. For all Peter knew, you could’ve been dead when he finally arrived, dashing toward you like a maniac chased by the Holy Spirit. “Y/N?” He skidded to a halt and breathed hard. “You alive?” You felt him poke your side with his finger. Too drowsy to react, you simply lifted your hand and gave him a thumbs up. A grin swept over his lips, and he bent down to scoop you up, coaxing a sign of life out of you as you squealed but almost immediately after melted into his chest.
He chuckled and carried you to his car. “Hello to you too, baby.”
You forced an eye open. “Took you long enough.”
Shrugging, he cocked his head to the side and lifted the corner of his mouth. “Oh, you know, some girl was babbling my ear off while I was on my way here. Really messed up my schedule.” He pretended to scowl at you, and you rolled your eyes at him.
“Seems like she didn’t do her job right.” You tucked at his earlobe, and he grimaced. “Such a bummer. You could’ve totally pulled off the Van Gogh look.”
He let you down into the passenger seat, shutting the door for you and setting his crossed arms on the rolled-down car window. “Oh yeah? You got a thing for dead artists now?” His face was in a twist, and you found yourself rolling your eyes again.
“I got a thing for guys who value punctuality,” you replied pointedly, and Peter let out a loud laugh. Leaning down, he came to an eye-level with you.
“Good thing, that’s not me then, am I right.” He winked and walked over to the driver’s side. In a second, he was seated next to you and reversing out of the parking lot, head turned to look behind him while his arm was holding onto the back of your seat. You took the second of concentration to take in his features. When he caught you staring, a smug smile raised to his lips, but you were quick to smack his chest with the back of your hand.
“Don’t flatter yourself. I was just checking if you had a black eye or at least a broken nose,” you said and ignored the way he cocked his brow.
“Thanks?” His eyes flickered between you and the road. “I gotta tell you, that’s a very sadistic love language you speak, but I’ll take it.”
You shot him a glare. “How else do you want to explain being 40 minutes late if it wasn’t being robbed by a biker gang and left in a ditch?”
“My answer was lack of time management by birth, but your excuse does sound far cooler.”
“Well, sadly, there’s no biker gang.” You heaved a sigh of exhaustion. “Otherwise, I would’ve gladly let them de-ball you.”
Peter cackled at your words, shaking his head before reaching over to pat your knee. “And they say romance is dead. I bet they’ve never met a total sweetheart like you.”
You broke out into a grin and swiftly whipped around to stare outside the window. Deciding to roll it up to stop the fidgeting of your hands, Peter made it his mission to choose the perfect song for your little drive. When the song “Midnight City” came up, he stopped and turned to you while wigging his brows obnoxiously. Pointing to the time on the upper corner of the car’s display, he awaited your reaction. It was five minutes past midnight.
You sighed. “Peter…”
“Oh, shut it, Y/N.”
You couldn’t help but let out a laugh, morphing the pout on his face into a matching smirk. “You know,” he spoke up, still staring ahead, “Sometimes I wonder why I’m even friends with you if you never appreciate my genius.” He gestured to his face, and you snorted.
Your eyes caught a brown bag that was sitting at your feet. “I’m here to keep your ego from exploding, I thought we’ve already gone over this—hey, what’s this?”
Peter glanced at you. “Booze.” He said it so casually you barely wondered how he got a hold of it. “You told me to get the good stuff, remember?”
Frowning, you leaned forward and tried to catch his gaze. His eyes flickered to yours. “What?”
“Since when is the good stuff not chocolate?”
He contemplated your words for a second before pulling a face. “Oh. Well, you wanted to bitch about our sucky love lives, so I assumed that involved liquor.” He shrugged. “To make it less excruciatingly painful, you know.” Eyeing the bottle in your hand, you pursed your lips, oblivious to Peter’s pleading look to just go with it. You hadn’t an idea what he had to go through just to swipe that bottle.
“I guess,” you finally replied and screwed off the cap to take a big gulp, feeling the liquid burn down your throat. Raising the bag, you flashed him a big smile. “Off to our voyage!”
He mirrored it, also raising his fist in the air. “Off to the deserted island named football field.”
- - - - -
“So what’s got your love life in a twist?” Peter asked casually while biting a piece off his sour belt. Within the past hour, the two of you had consumed a considerate amount of alcohol but had yet to experience feeling fatally wasted. A slight haze had infiltrated your senses, but that was really it. You both were still perfectly capable of having a proper conversation.
“You mean my panties?”
“Huh?” He narrowed his eyes in deep thought. “Oh, you want to talk about your underwear. Yeah, I guess that’s fine too.”
“No, you meant my panties are in a twist.” He turned to look at you.
“Why would your panties be in a twist? Do you want me to untwist them?” Slowly, the corner of his mouth curved into a not-so-subtle smirk, and you fought hard to keep a straight face.
“I really do hate you, Parker.”
He grinned back at you. “Means I must be doing something right, huh.”
Choosing to ignore his words, your gaze traveled the dark night sky above, littered with endless sparkling white dots. Peter mirrored your action, letting comfortable silence settle in, as the two of you continued to lay next to each other on top of the roof of his car.
“I don’t know,” you responded after a while. You felt him look the side of your face, but you forced yourself to fix your gaze on anything other than your best friend beside you, your fingers fiddled with one another in your lap. “I guess I just haven’t caught anybody’s eyes yet. No one really likes me, you know.”
“I like you.”
“You know what I mean, Peter.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” you sighed and took up the courage to meet his eyes. They weren’t holding any trails of pity like excepted. Instead, you gazed into nothing but a loving pool of honey that ignited clouds of warmth to swirl in your stomach. He looked at you in a way you couldn’t quite place, and you had to force yourself to look away, just barely missing the glint of disappointment as you broke the eye contact. You shrugged, an unsure smile gracing your lips. “Somebody will come along, I’m sure. Maybe at a hot dog stand. Hot dog stands are reliable, right?”
The tone in your voice, lacing your words like grapevine, was poisonous, making the boy beside you sit up and pull you right along. Your poor attempt of self-assurance didn’t sit right with Peter, but you didn’t feel like confronting it just yet, and he knew that. So, he tried to catch your gaze, and given that you had no other choice but to look at one of the most important people in your life, you dropped your shoulders and gave in. You simply stared at each other in silence, seemingly waiting for the other one to crack first. The serious situation quickly shifted into a comedic but intense stare battle and before you knew it, you were pulling faces at each other.
You were pretty certain, the alcohol in your system did not contribute a thing to it, but eventually, even the two of you would fall victim to it as you already felt it tuck at some loose strings. And Peter being Peter, he spoke up first.
“If neither of us cracks any time soon, we will both look like fools who escaped a mental institution and are roleplaying as Harley Quinn and the Joker.”
And just like that, laughter bubbled over your lips, prompting a face-splitting smile to dance on his lips while his eyes were staring at you like you had created all good in the world. It quickly turned into heartfelt laughter and once he joined in, it only made you laugh harder.
Your eyes drifted until they met those familiar honey ones again. The ones you have known since childhood, and the ones you had stared into one too many times tonight. And suddenly the entire world was encased into an incredulously large pool of amber that you never wanted to leave. It made sense. It just clicked, and suddenly the riddle was complete.
And the best part about it all was that you knew he felt the same way. He had never been an easy book to read, not even when you were children, but that night, in the middle of the football field, you could read him like he was your favorite poem. Each line and metaphor were as clear as the sky. Without having acknowledged it much, your face had grown closer in proximity with his. So, when he decided to speak, his voice was a hushed whisper. The alcohol easily fanning over your lips in waves.
“I really want to kiss you right now.” He inched closer, nose bumping against yours while his gaze danced between your lips and your eyes. “To find out how your lips feel on mine.”
His words caused newfound confidence to surge through your veins. The corner of your mouth quirked into a smirk, and you leaned forward. Lips brushing against his when you spoke. “I can put it on my to-do list if you want to know so badly.”
He chuckled, hand reaching up to cup your cheek while the other slid across your back. “Baby, you don’t understand how badly I want to know.”
He pressed his lips against yours, and immediately you sunk into the pool of amber. But you could taste more than just alcohol. There were honey and warmth. The way he made you feel—the way he had always made you feel all along, even in the most platonic ways. When cracking jokes or during shared detention. There had always been clouds of sweetness and joy surrounding you whenever he was near, but now that you had finally acquired the taste, you were addicted. You were making out with your best friend, and you loved everything about it. His arms tightened around you as you caressed his heated cheeks. They traveled to the back of his neck, threading through the curls of his hair, and pressing him closer to you.
When it was time to break away, you nibbled on his bottom lips, reluctantly parting, but still remaining close as his forehead rested against yours. He stared into your eyes with a whimsical smile while he tried to catch his breath. “Do you still hate me?”
You chuckled. “You know what, Parker?” Shaking your head, you tried to catch the train of thought you were losing just by gazing into his eyes. “Just a little bit.”
* * *
it’s 4 am here, and i’m pretty sure i’m sleeping as i’m typing this lol i had way too much fun with the dialogue. let me know what you think! as always, thank you so much for reading 💞 have a sweet one, guys x
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taglist: @honeypie-holland @himarisolace @duskholland @insidiousslut @siriuslyslyslytherin @quaksonhehe @geminiparkers @writertoo18 @fl0ating @luwloki @missnxthingg @hufflepuffhollander @dummiesshort @itstaskeen @nerdyandproudofitsstuff @totallyfangirling7177 @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @starlight-starks @fire1ordzuzu @parkerlovebot @parkerlovebot @ethereal-beauty-p​ @theweekendss @tom-hlover @peterspideysstuff @miraclesoflove @prettysbliss @fancyxparker @tom-hlover @blossomparkers 
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gravegroves · 3 years
Note
Can I ask about 2 and 8 for the wip tag game?
I've already talked about 8 (search #tag game in my tags and you'll find it).
But omg thank you for asking about 2!!
2. Like a Bat Out of Hell, Indiana
Oh man, oh man. This. This right here? This is my baby. My precious. The one I wrote so self indulgently that even if no one else likes it, I LIKE IT. And I'm completely okay with that.
El and Hopper fail at closing the gate at the end of s2, Billy appears at the Byers' house just in time and so begins a mad dash across the country, trying to outrun the end of the fucking world.
Tw: death (no one we care about though)
Excerpt:
The sound of a car roaring into the driveway has Steve's heart crashing up into his throat and they all turn to watch as headlights dance across the living room walls, sharp and blinding, like a goddamn beacon of hope.
And Steve doesn't have time to think about why the deep rumbling of the engine sounds so familiar.
He moves the kids now or they die.
"Get to the car, now!" Steve screams, just as the window at the end of the hall explodes inward.
Max gets to the door first and tears out of the house, sprinting toward the high beam lights with the boys hot on her heels.
"Billy!" She screams and goddamnit she can't mean--
She reaches the car, yanks the passenger side door open and pushes the front seat forward, shoving Dustin, Mike and Lucas into the back before diving in herself, righting the front seat in a practised move just in time for Steve to jump in after her.
And yep. There he is.
Hargrove's expression would be hilarious if they weren't seconds away from being overrun by a horde of carnivorous monster dogs.
"What the fuck do you losers think you're doing?!" Billy roars, eyes bugging slightly when he recognises Steve.
"Harrington?!"
Steve grabs him by the collar and screams into his face: "Just fucking drive!" 
A loud crash has them both snapping their heads to the side just in time to watch as a hundred Demodogs or more come rushing out from behind the Byers' house, heading straight for them.
Without another word, Billy yanks the car into reverse and accelerates before hitting the breaks. Steve's stomach swoops as their momentum lets the wheels slide over the gravel to land perfectly on the road.
He grabs Billy's arm, yanks on it like it might shake some urgency into him.
"Hargrove, go!"
"Seatbelts! Get the seatbelts" Max yells at the others.
That's what she's worried about? Steve thinks, even as he reaches over his shoulder to strap himself in.
Then Billy puts the car into gear and guns it forward and they go from 0 to 70 mph in ten seconds flat, zooming down old, twisting back roads and Steve honestly can't believe that Hargrove's insane, wannabe NASCAR driving is gonna be what saves their asses tonight.
"What the hell are you doing all the way out here with my sister, huh?" Billy yells, taking his eyes off the road to look over at him and Steve might seriously have a fucking heart attack.
"Eyes on the road!" He exclaims, foot searching the footwell for a break pedal that isn't there, "For real, man? You want to do this now?!"
"Or you can get out and fucking walk, amigo," Billy snarls, swerving around another Demodog leaping for the hood of his car, "What the hell is up with these dogs?"
"Billy, stop it! Can you jus-- look out!" Max shrieks, her arm shooting between them to point straight ahead and the kids all begin yelling as the flower-in-bloom-faced ugly fuck grows larger in the windscreen at an alarming speed.
Smooth as butter, Billy avoids the gaping creature in their path, not taking his foot off the accelerator for even a second. Steve's heart beats a drum solo against his adam's apple. His fingers feel fused to the edges of the seat, holding on for dear life.
"Jesus Christ, what the fuck was that?" Billy turns to look behind him and Steve clenches his teeth so hard his jaw hurts, barely restraining himself from yanking Billy around to face forward again.
"Hargrove, I swear to God--"
"Oh god, look."
Steve turns his head the slightest amount to see Lucas pointing out of the window at the treeline to their right.
Demodogs.
Lots of them.
So many slimy, greyish bodies that the forest floor has all but disappeared and transformed into a churning sea of dark, slick oil.
More worryingly, they're all running in the same direction as the Camaro.
Fuck.
"What the…" Billy falters when he looks out of the window at the treeline, then seems to shake it off, placing his undivided attention back on the road for once.
He speeds up to pass a whole group of the beasts trying to cross to the other side, narrowly misses being cut off entirely by the mass of Demodog bodies. Steve releases a hand from the seat only to clutch at the grab handle on the door. He closes his eyes, swears he can feel his stomach fall out of his ass when the wheels on his side of the car lift into the air for half a beat.  
"Shit, we're gonna die!" Dustin wails, voice wobbly as Billy jerks the wheel again to avoid a creature charging straight for them. If the kids weren't already packed in like sardines they'd be sliding around back there, seatbelt or no. "We're definitely gonna die! This psycho is gonna kill us before the monsters do!"
Billy scowls into the rear-view mirror and grits out "Hey kid, you're welcome to get out and walk."
"You literally tried to run us off the road a week ago--"
"Not the time, Dustin!" Max snaps and shushes him.
"We need to get to the gate!" Mike blurts out, leaning forward to speak directly at Steve. Demanding. "We need to help El!"
Steve doesn't even have the faintest idea of how to begin doing any of that.
"Dude, we can't just go back there, are you crazy--" Lucas pulls him back and they continue to argue in harsh whispers.
"If you losers don't shut the fuck up, I'll crash this goddamn car just so I can take you all with me." Billy barks, knuckles white on the wheel.
"Oh my god, see! What did I tell you?" Dustin exclaims, "He's dangerous, Steve!"
Yeah, well, he's all that we've got, Steve doesn’t say. "Shut up, Dustin."
They turn into the first proper residential street and Billy misses a tree by an inch as he tries to avoid colliding with five demodogs hunched over something on the road.
Oh god, was that a body?
"Harrington, where the fuck am I going?"
Steve closes his eyes, overwhelmed and completely out of his depth. They might have been the B team, but there hadn't actually been a plan B--
"Fuck, fuck! I don't know--"
"Billy," Max pleads, voice shaky with terror, silencing them all, "My mom…" 
Billy sighs explosively before turning down a side street, barely slowing down.
"Shit."
*****
It's not just Max's mom, but Dustin's mom, too. Lucas's family. Mike's family. 
They reach Old Cherry Road first and Billy barely allows the car to come to a full stop, Demodogs further down the street are taking notice of them already, stalking forward, mouths blooming excitedly. Steve eyes them warily until a garbled oh fuck from the back seat draws his attention to the other side of the street and--
It's bad.
The porch light sets the stage for a grizzly scene at the Hargrove residence. A woman lies directly beneath it, like the opening shot to a fucked up play, her head of red hair spilling over the top step.
She's very obviously dead. Steve can see where she must have tripped on the welcome rug -- awkwardly stiff and upturned between her feet -- and he can only hope she got knocked out in the fall and didn't feel a thing that came after. There isn't much left between her head and her knees except for a dark patch of gøre.
The headless body of a man lies slumped against a truck parked in the driveway, one arm stuck through the open car door, half torn off within his jacket. Blood still running down the concrete incline, pooling in the roadside gutter.
"Oh, you Bastard," Billy spits, barely a whisper.
The longer Steve stares, the more horrifying the scene becomes.
He doesn't want Max to see this. Or Billy.
Max doesn't make a sound.
Billy slams his fist against the steering wheel a couple of times, then peels away from the curb before the Demodogs can get too close.
*****
Dustin's house is dark. There's no car in the driveway.
"I told her Mews had been seen in Loch Nora. She must still be out looking..." Dustin trails off quietly. Shellshocked.
It's almost midnight. Steve doubts she's still out looking for a cat. And if she is...
"I wanted to keep her out of the way."
No one says anything.
They drive.
*****
The Sinclair house is dark, too, no lights on except for the motion sensor activated ones over the empty carport.
Billy doesn't bother slowing down. The area is absolutely swarming with creatures already.
"It's so late. Where..." Lucas falters, scanning the houses they pass, like he made a mistake and his home will appear any minute now. "Where did they go?"
"I'm sure they're okay, man," Steve tries, but it feels flat, false, "If they're in a car they could make it out. Your mom too, Dustin."
Billy grimaces, but says nothing.
"What?" Steve demands.
"I was just here looking for Max. They were home." 
He keeps a laser focus on the road now, on avoiding the monsters spilling out onto their path, growling when he's forced to change down a gear before aggressively working his way up in speed once more, jaw clenched tight.
"You probably caught them on their way out." Steve insists.
Billy looks doubtful, but he nods anyway. Neither of them enough of an asshole to take a kid's hopes away like that.
They move on.
*****
"Let me out," Mike says, quietly. Trembling. Hands pushing against the back of Steve's seat like he'll be able to bend it out of the way through sheer force of will.
No one moves.
The front door to the Wheeler home is open, door splintered where the deadbolt held, but the wood didn't. The car is parked in the carport. All the lights are on. 
Karen Wheeler's corpse lies forgotten and half devoured on the front lawn.
In the driveway, a tiny yellow sock lies next to bloody drag marks disappearing into the grass--
Oh god...
"Let me out." 
Steve's lips move, but he can't seem to draw breath enough to produce sound..
Billy seems to shake himself out of a daze, takes a deep breath beside him. "Nah, kid."
And Mike just snaps. 
"Fuck you! Fuck you!" He screams, punching and kicking the seat in front of him.
Steve leans forward out of the seat and puts his head in his hands. 
"Let me out! LET ME OUT!" Mike shrieks, begs.
"No." Billy says again, evenly.
Mike's voice breaks on a wordless scream.
Steve wants to do his own bit of kicking and screaming, but someone needs to keep their fucking head in the game or they're all going to end up dead.
By some twisted turn of fate that someone is turning out to be Billy fucking Hargrove.
Hysterically, he remembers hearing about Billy abandoning Carla Green to walk home alone from the quarry after she'd scratched the Camaro's dashboard with her fake nails by accident.
Mike kicks the back of the seat again. Billy says nothing.
All the kids are crying, now.
Mike's screams eventually taper off into babbling sobs and Dustin does his best to comfort him through his own half-choked cries. Lucas is whispering to a sobbing Max, his own breaths hitching and heaving uncontrollably, on the edge of breaking.
Steve's eyes sting, hidden behind his hands.
He lifts his head up and glances over at Billy, still tracking the side of the road, the edge of the trees. He looks so normal that it almost throws Steve for a loop. He wants to grab Billy by the collar again. Shake him. Scream: what part of this aren't you getting?
"The fuck is going on?" Billy hisses, almost to himself and oh, right.
"Later," Steve promises, hoarsely, digs the heels of his hands into his eyes hard enough to see stars.
"You know what they are?"
"Yeah." Steve says after a great deal of swallowing past the lump in his throat.
If Hargrove's voice betrays even a hint of emotion Steve knows he's gonna fucking lose it. Luckily, the guy keeps his shit together so Steve can keep a lid on his.
"You know what kills them?" Billy continues.
"Heat," Dustin says, voice thick, "And, like, bullets."
Billy nods, "Alright, how warm are we talking?"
"They don't like warm weather or daylight, but I don't think it kills them. Weakens them, maybe. Sends them underground."
"Fire will." Steve says, pulling at his hair until it hurts, dragging himself out of foggy despair and into the present where he's needed. He accidentally runs his gaze past Karen's body and tries not to dry-heave.
Mike is still crying behind him and god fuck, they should get out of here. The kid shouldn't be seeing this.
"Where do we go?" Max whispers, like she read his mind. She sounds as lost as Steve feels.
Billy revs the engine and turns to Steve, "Any requests?"
Steve thinks about the huge empty house waiting for him, a gaping nightmare at the edge of the woods. He balks at the thought.
Where the fuck do we go?
"Just get us out of Hawkins."
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tealquacks · 4 years
Text
They Share A Kitchen
An intrulogical (can be read as platonic) fic
Originally posted here : https://archiveofourown.org/works/24317644
While the light and dark sides preferred to keep their distance from one another, they had to share some parts of Thomas’ mind. The imagination, for example, was split down the middle just like the two sides that ruled them, a mix of gnarled trees and fluffy clouds, unicorns and demogorgons, living in hostile harmony. They also had to share a living room, a few hallways, and the kitchen. Almost as if Thomas’ subconscious was trying to push the sides together. 
But the sharing didn’t bring them any closer, especially considering recent events. The “dark” sides avoided the “light” sides and Roman avoided everybody. All the shared spaces did was give Logan reasons to share more fun facts at the breakfast table.
“Studies show certain animals that inhabit areas close to human activity have begun to develop nocturnal tendencies in order to avoid said humans,” Logan had said one day over a bowl of dry cereal. 
“And what does that have to do with anything?” Virgil grumbled. Patton yawned.
Logan sighed. “I’ll answer your question with a question. Why do we always wait until eight am to get our breakfast?”
Virgil looked down into his coffee cup, and mumbled something. 
“What was that?”
“...To avoid Remus and Janus.” 
Logan had huffed triumphantly. Really, he found their little schedule fascinating. He made a little schedule on lined paper, marked out by half hours. He practically had their movements tracked down to the minute. Weeks worth of observation, neatly graphed out. It almost made Logan want to cry. 
Six am to seven am seemed to be the hours where Janus, the resident morning person, dragged Remus to the kitchen and got himself a cup of coffee and made himself breakfast, before making a hasty retreat to his room. Remus made breakfast after him, then left at around seven forty five am. Then the ‘light’ sides (minus Roman) claimed the kitchen from eight am to ten. Sometimes even to ten fifteen, depending on what Patton and Virgil made. 
Roman grabbed whatever leftovers there were at ten thirty. Afterwards, (around 11) Janus would emerge to get another cup of coffee and an early lunch, and Patton would get a cup of tea to drink and chat with him. Roman would slip into the kitchen at noon to get water or a snack, then right at twelve o’ eight, Remus would bolt into the kitchen, grab something to eat, then dash away before Patton could enter for another cup of tea at around twelve o’ twelve. At two, Virgil and Patton would sit in the kitchen and chat.
There were only two ‘dead zones’ Logan could find, where nobody visited the kitchen. Between two thirty and four, where everyone kept to themselves in their room until dinner (which Janus and Remus ate at four, himself, Virgil and Patton at five, Roman at around six if he remembered to eat), and from three am to five thirty am. Logan never had the chance to observe the kitchen that early in the morning— which is to say he never had an excuse to disrupt his sleep schedule. 
Even then, his curiosity plagued him. Virgil sometimes woke in the night to grab a midnight snack, but was he ever there at three thirty am? Some mornings there would be a pot left on the stove, or flour on the counters. Maybe it was Roman, trying to cook but only succeeding in making a mess. Or Janus? No, Janus always cleaned up after himself, it wasn’t him. Did Patton wake in the night to cook or bake…?
The logical thing to do was to ask if anyone went into the kitchen at those hours. The logical thing sounded like far much more trouble than simply staking out in the kitchen and waiting to see if someone came along, then ask them if their late night (early morning?) visits to the kitchen were a part of their routine. That would cut out any unnecessary conversation. Certainly it would be the best option— avoid any conversation that could possibly turn into an argument and distress Thomas, while also ridding himself of this curiosity. 
All of those events led to now. Logan sat on the couch, close enough to hear if anyone entered the kitchen, but obscured enough by the couch that he wouldn’t be seen. Not that that mattered, both the kitchen and the common area were pitch black. Not a single sliver of moonlight shone through the windows. He checked his watch. Two fifty-one. He’d been sitting there for an hour.
Logan briefly paused his train of thought. Why did he care so much? He wanted to complete his chart. Why did it matter to him? 
Logan sighed. The mystery person wouldn’t be here for at least another forty minutes. And that is assuming that they follow their schedule every single day. It made sense that there would be nobody in the kitchen. Every single metaphysical person was asleep. Except for him. 
Being thorough is important. What if he had missed something? Or this person's trips to the kitchen add a whole new variable to his chart? Who knows. He certainly didn’t, so he had to find out.
He checked his watch again. Three twenty am. Huh, overthinking truly was a great way to pass the time. Only fifteen minutes to go until the truth revealed itself to him in the form of one of his fellow sides stumbling into the kitchen. Maybe it would be Patton, taking sock-muffled steps into the kitchen on his way to bake, or Janus with a novel and a desire for a cup of tea. The possibility that simply nobody went to the kitchen between three thirty am to five am hung in the air. It didn’t make him any less curious. 
Footsteps. Heavy, thundering things in the kitchen. Logan jolted. Slowly he turned around to look into the kitchen, and found that the lack of light made his eyes useless. All he could see was a shadowy figure in front of the cupboards. He heard one open, then shut a minute and a half later. 
Logan watched the shifting darkness. Metal scratching metal—what the hell was that? He cringed at the harsh sound. More scraping noises. If he could feel anything, he’d classify the prickles running up his spine as fear, or anxiety, but since he certainly had no emotions, he chalked the sensation up to being cold. Even then, Logan flinched hard when the shadowy figure used a food processor. Three thirty five am.
More metallic scraping (sharpening a knife?) mingled with mindless humming. Maybe it was Roman, making himself food. He hadn’t eaten that day, so he would certainly be hungry. So certainly, if Logan were to turn on the light, he would see Roman in his Beauty and the Beast onesie. But then again, Roman was a shit cook. There wouldn’t be any scraping of knives or sounds of rustling in cupboards— maybe the rustling of a cereal box. 
Could it be Patton? No. Patton always loudly sang while cooking. Or maybe it was Patton, and he was just  being considerate of the other sleeping sides. How would he even confront the mystery chef? ‘Hey, not to sound weird but I’ve been keeping track of everyone’s kitchen time and I want to know if you do this every night. I have a chart. Yes, it is laminated, and color coded. Tell me about your schedule.’
Logan stared into the darkness of the kitchen unblinking. Rustling of… something, more chopping and scraping noises. Something sizzled, and Logan slowly breathed in. Oh, it smelled wonderful, rich and herbal… garlic, maybe. And onion. He checked his watch. Three thirty am, and he still had no clue who the hell was making food. What were they making? 
The fridge opened, and Logan could finally see. The cold light glinted off a long, sharp knife. Logan swallowed. There was a hunk of meat on the cutting board. Peering into the fridge was, well, someone, but when they turned their head, Logan could see the bright shock of white in their hair—
“Remus?” Logan exclaimed, bewildered.
Remus jumped and let out a panicked shriek. Logan stood up from his place at the couch, and blindly stumbled to the light switch. Remus flinched at the sudden light, and Logan just blinked as he took in the sight before him.
Sitting on the counter was a baking sheet with a raw rack of lamb perched upon it, covered in some sort of seasoning. On the stove sat a pot of golden broth that barely simmered, and the source of that delectable smell— a skillet of shallots and rice. Another pan of perfectly cooked mushrooms sat close by. Logan blinked.
“What is this?” Logan asked.
“Food,” Remus answered, “and I would’ve let you have some if you hadn’t scared the shit out of me, ‘figuratively’.” 
Logan raised an eyebrow. Remus looked as disheveled as ever, even though he only wore a pair of boxers with little octopi on them. For once he wasn’t wearing his eyeshadow, and his hair looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. A grain of rice was caught in his moustache. What an odd thing to notice.
“I apologize for interrupting your cooking,” Logan deadpanned, “but if you would be more specific?”
Remus shoved the pan into the fridge, then picked up a bottle of white wine. He took a long swig out of it before pouring a bit into the pan with the rice. It sizzled loudly, and he started mixing vigorously.
“I’m making garlic and herb crusted roast lamb and mushroom risotto,” Remus said.
Logan blinked slowly.
“What?”
Remus looked up from his pan, a little smile on his face.
“Come on, Logan! You’re the smart one, you should know what a risotto is!”
Logan sat down at the kitchen table, staring dazedly at Remus. 
“I know what a risotto is,” Logan said, “a northern Italian dish made with rice and broth until it reaches a creamy consistency, sometimes made with white wine or butter. I didn’t know you knew how to make it, though.”
Remus added a bit of the simmering broth to the rice.
“Why not? I mean, gluttony, envy, greed, all those dirty little sins Thomas associates with me,” Remus said with a shoulder wiggle.
“Well—“
“Are you jealous of my skills? I know how to keep a man happy, Logan. Don’t you know? The fastest way to a man’s heart—“
“Is through his stomach.” An idiom Patton had taught him. Remus nodded rapidly.
“Yes, like gutting a deer! You carve open the stomach and poke through the diaphragm to cut the esophagus and pull everything out! And then you yank out the heart!” Remus cackled manically, pouring more broth into the pan and stirring. A bit of rice flew out. “It’s really tasty. Deer heart, I mean.”
Logan nodded, “And very nutritious. High in potassium and protein.”
 Remus nodded even more, his white streaked hair flopping into his eyes. Logan was still in shock over this whole thing. Who the hell knew Remus could cook? Certainly not him. Now came the hard part, talking.
“Did you know that sheep don’t have teeth in their upper front jaws? And that like, a bunch of sheep are gay!” Remus rambled.
“Do you do this every night?” Logan questioned.
“No,” Remus responded, “most of the time I cook in the buff— it’s freeing!”
“That’s… I mean. Uh. Do you cook every night,” Logan deadpanned.
Remus shrugged.
“On and off. Some days I do some days I don’t!”
Logan opened his mouth, then shut it. Remus, as far as he could tell, was every single bit of chaos Thomas had (that wasn’t already represented by Roman). As Remus himself had said, he was the opposite of rational thought. Remus added a little more broth to the rice, stirring quickly. 
“It’s my turn for questions— I have about seven,” Remus said. Logan opened his mouth to respond, but Remus started rattling his questions off.
“One, why’re you in the kitchen? I’ve never seen you up this late, not very logical of you.”
Logan shrugged, not sure what to say. Lying was Janus’ thing. So he straightened his tie, and said:
“Recently, I have been collecting data about the habits of the other sides, namely, when they use the kitchen. A pattern started to emerge, but there were gaps in my data, one of which exists because of the other sides waiting to make dinner, but the other gap I could not fill, nor could I simply ignore. I assumed everyone would be asleep—“
“—And you got me instead!” Remus chirped. “A pleasant surprise, isn’t it?”
Logan started at the knife laying on the counter. Next to it laid a sharpening steel. His wandering eyes landed on Remus’ back. So pale...
“...It’s certainly a surprise. Where did you—“
Something struck him right between the eyes before clattering to the ground. Logan blinked in shock, before realizing Remus had simply thrown a spoon at him.
“It’s my question time, whore!” Remus exclaimed. He summoned another spoon 
Logan nodded.
“My apologies,” Logan said, “go on?”
Remus’ brows furrowed, but he continued.
“Questions two, three, four, and six—“
“Six?”
“I’m going out of order. Question two: is Roman still a shit cook? Question three: why are you surprised? Four, how long were you sitting there, and six, do you want to eat with me?”
Logan’s eyes went wide as he tried to take in all the questions. Remus stirred in a little more broth, but he never took his eyes off of him. A little disconcerting, but in character for him.
“Well,” Logan started, “Roman is not the most skilled in cooking. His ideas are creative, but the execution tends to be subpar. While cooking he is easily distracted, which leads to burnt things. The food he summons is wonderful, though. However, this information may not be recent nor accurate because I have not seen Roman since the events after the wedding.”
“The events— you mean when Padre flipped out and turned into a frog? And Jannie told everyone his name, and Roman got princey pissed?
Logan nodded.
“Yes. But to answer question three as honestly as I can, I did not have any reason to believe you had any cooking skill, especially not of this level.”
Remus tilted his head. “Why so?”
“Because of what you represent to Thomas,” Logan explained, “all of his “bad” creativity. I had no reason to believe you could make anything good, let alone what smells like a finely made risotto.” 
Logan expected Remus to throw something at him again. Instead, Remus seemed surprisingly calm, looking down at his risotto. Logan straightened his tie again.
“Not only that,” he continued,” but also because Thomas does not possess cooking skills of this caliber.”
Remus chuckled.
“Thomas also does not possess knowledge of a lot of the shit you and Jan talk about. Like, philosophy and psychology and a whole lot of other stuff. Roman knows spanish! So who’s to say that I can’t cook? Besides, Thomas’ perception of me hasn’t done shit since the split, ya know? He has no power over me. He sees me as bad, yeah, and I don’t give a fuck. If you ask me, if Thomas let Janus take control instead of Prudey-Patton, we’d be sailing much much much smoother. But that’s only my opinion of course!”
“Really?” Logan asked, surprised.
Remus raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I think Janus would be a much better ‘morality’ than Patton. He has good opinions of the shit Thomas should be doing. And, he likes me! I’d say it to his face.  Patton’s face. Actually I might have? I’m not sure! I’m not sure…”
“I don’t think you have,” Logan said, “but it would be unwise for Janus to take Patton’s role, since Thomas is attached to Patton and the sudden shift would be detrimental to his mental and emotional health. Besides, I don’t think Janus could actually take his place, since he also acts as Thomas’ self preservation.”
 Remus rolled his eyes.
“Whatever. Question four! Let’s go!”
“I was sitting on the couch for about an hour and forty four minutes. Before that I was in my room. I came out and sat on the couch at one fifty one, so I wouldn’t be tempted to go to bed.”
Remus whistled low. He let go of the spoon, which kept stirring the risotto even without his touch.
“Goddamn, that’s dedication. I can’t even sit still for half that time! What would you have done if nobody showed up?”
Logan looked awkwardly down at his hands. Honestly, he hadn't thought of what he would do. 
“Go back to my room and sleep,” Logan answered, “but stay up this late for at least a week in order to make sure I had proper data.”
Remus crossed his arms and leaned back against the stove. With one hand, he tapped his fingers to his thumb in a quick rhythm— index finger to thumb, middle finger to thumb, ring finger to thumb, pinkie to thumb, over and over again.
“It really must mean a lot to you. Which leads to question five!”
“I thought you said you were—“
“Going out of order? Well, I’m not! I’m unpredictable like that. Question five! Why does charting our schedules mean so much to you?”
Logan stared at the knife laid on the counter. For a split second, he considered standing up and leaving. Because how could he explain the reason he decided to chart their movements? There were so many, each one sillier and more trivial than the last, each one of them soaked in emotion, so much so there was no denying how he felt, and if the others found out they’d never ever listen to him ever ever again— 
But on the other hand he so desperately wanted to tell him, just to get the words out, so they’d stop pushing on him. Logan fiddled with his tie. 
Logan took a slow breath in.  On the counter laid the knife. Logan’s eyes flicked around the kitchen. Sharpening steel, cutting board, some leftover herbs, Remus, the streak of white in his hair. The air was cold, the floor was hard, the chair felt sturdy, and his tie was smooth. Sizzling of the pan, his own foot, tapping restlessly on the ground, Remus’ quiet humming. The air smelled like chicken stock and a bit of garlic. None of Remus’ usual reek, surprisingly. Logan moved his tongue around a little. His mouth tasted like spit. Nothing more, nothing less. He breathed out.
“I realized that all I do is pointless. Every plan and suggestion I give is ignored, or unwanted, unless I push and push… but even then, I’m not listened to. The chart is what I believe Janus would call a ‘coping mechanism’. I know this, too, is pointless, but knowing that I can complete this without any interruption, without any need for input from the others is comforting. It does nothing, and yet I’ve dedicated a good deal of time towards it.”
Remus stared at him, expression unreadable. That was until a bright, manic smile split his features, and he clapped his hands.
“So it’s like jacking off!” Remus exclaimed.
Logan made a face, looking at Remus with nothing but unbridled confusion.’The spoon in the risotto kept on stirring by itself.
“...And how did you come to that conclusion?”
“Well, it makes you feel phenomenal, it’s something you do for yourself, and it’s good for stress relief!”
Logan blinked slowly, then looked down at his lap, desperately trying to keep his composure.
“That is a good metaphor. Just like masturbation, this chart is, in the end, pointless.”
Remus snorted, and rolled his eyes. He sat down at the table next to Logan, and their knees bumped. Remus set both his elbows on the table.
“I don’t see how it’s pointless.” He said, “It’s something you’re doing to make yourself feel better because everyone else is shit. As you said, a coping mechanism. What makes it pointless?”
“It serves no purpose,” Logan deadpanned.
“Ya see, Logan, when you really, really think about it, everything is pointless!” Remus exclaimed. “Every meal we eat and person we see and every idea we have and every place we go and every happy moment is pointless, because in the end it’ll all go away! It’ll all be for nothing! Thomas will die and we’ll go with him, so everything is pointless!” 
Remus leaned closer. Their foreheads touched. How was Remus’ skin so warm? Logan swallowed, trying to push the tingling sensation in his chest down. Fear. It was fear. 
“Every single little thing is pointless!” Remus whispered intensely, “It’s true, you know it is, so don’t you agree?”
Logan looked him dead in the eyes.
“No, I don’t,” Logan said darkly, “Because while death is inevitable, Thomas’ life still matters. It might not matter cosmically, but his happiness and well being matter to me, and I will do everything in my power to give him a wonderful life, a life he can smile at even when he is close to death. So all those things you just said were meaningless? They matter more than anything. To Thomas, and to me.”
Remus smiled, wicked and sharp, waggling his eyebrows.
“So your chart isn’t pointless,” Remus said mischievously, “nothing you do is. As a part of Thomas, anything and everything you do matters. And if you say it doesn’t, then that makes you a hypocrite!”
Logan’s eye twitched. Ah, dammit, he just got played like a cheap kazoo by a guy who eats deodorant. 
“I guess you’re right.”
Remus dramatically leaned back, arms outstretched like a bird.
“I know!”
Logan sighed, hands in his lap. The risotto kept on stirring itself. Was it done? How long had it been? Logan looked at his watch. He couldn’t see, his vision clouded. He blinked. 
“I don’t know,” Logan said, “I’m Thomas’ logic I don’t know why he won’t listen to me anymore. Why none of them ever listen to me. I don’t feel like I belong among the sides even more. I’m a part of Thomas. It’s hard. I know I’m needed, but I don’t feel that way, and I can’t stop feeling. I’ve tried. I’ve really, really tried. Really, everything feels pointless, because none of my efforts yield anything of value.”
Remus pat his head.
“There there,” Remus said, “now about these feelings. Have you tried turning that big brain of yours off and on again?”
A chortle escaped Logan’s month. Then, a teardrop landed on his glasses. He ripped them off and slammed them on the table, taking deep, slow breaths to calm himself. They didn’t work, and dissolved into hiccuping, pathetic sobs.
“Oh boy,” Remus said. He didn’t move his hand from Logan’s head, gently stroking his hair like how one would pet a cat. Oddly enough, it was a little calming. Logan thought for a second of what the others would see. Remus, in only boxers, petting him as he cried. Remus made a few cooing noises.
“Why did I even tell you all this?” Logan whined, sniffling wetly.
Remus removed his hand. Logan heard him stand, then rustle around a bit.
“It’s like, four am,” Remus explained, “everyone is dumb as fuck at four am. Even you, Raisin Brain.”
“Raisin Brain?”
“A pun on the cereal and a reference to how scrunchy and smart your brain is, like. A raisin? It is also something that proves my point. But I get you, sometimes the thoughts just have to come out. Here, try some.”
Logan looked up from his hands to see Remus, offering him a spoon with some of the risotto on it. He’d mixed in the mushrooms. The risotto was as pale as his skin. Logan took the spoon from Remus, and put it in his mouth. His teary eyes went wide at the taste. The rice was cooked wonderfully, and he could taste the wine and chicken broth. The mushrooms in the dish added a wonderful earthiness,  and Logan forced himself to chew slowly, relishing every last flavor before swallowing.
Remus peered down at him anxiously, twiddling his moustache with the hand not holding the spoon.
“What do you think?” He asked. Logan wiped his eyes, running his tongue over his teeth to catch the last bit of the taste.
“It tastes wonderful, the wine and the mushroom… it’s a very well done dish, you should be proud of yourself.”
Remus clapped his hands, dropping the spoon and letting it clatter on the floor. He jumped up and down, hopping back over to the pan of risotto and taking it off the heat and letting it rest on the stove.
“Won’t it get cold?” Logan asked. He sniffled.
“Not unless I want it to,” Remus said, “and I don’t want it to! I’m serving it with the lamb, which I’m gonna roast. But it has to marinate for a while. Here, while we wait…”
He grabbed the bottle of white wine from the counter and sat at the table with Logan, offering the bottle to Logan. How long had it been since he’d had wine, or anything alcoholic? One week and three days. How long had it been since he’d had wine somewhere that wasn’t his bedroom? About a year and a half. He couldn’t risk being drunk in front of the others. Then they wouldn’t view him as serious and smart, just as a silly, drunken idiot—
None of those others were here. They were all asleep.
But what would Remus think? Would he care? He could hold this moment over his head for the rest of Thomas’ life, and he would no longer be able to keep him in check. He’d truly be useless, unnecessary.
“I can hear you thinking from here, Teach,” Remus said, brows furrowed, “I can get you some water instead?”
Logan nodded. Remus snapped his fingers, and the golden wine faded until it was clear. Logan hesitantly took the bottle, gingerly sipping. Yes, that was water. He couldn’t help but take a deep gulp, almost choking on the cold, wonderful water. He lowered the bottle. Logan furrowed his brows. 
“Wine to water? Isn't it supposed to be the other way around?” Logan questioned.
Remus smirked, “I think my way is more fun. I still have more questions, if you’re game?”
“I’m not ‘game’. If I was, I’d be chess,” Logan said.
“I’d be strip poker!” Remus cackled, throwing his head back in glee. When he composed himself, he looked at Logan. “But that’s not what I mean. I mean. Okay! Question eight.”
Logan blinked. He put his glasses back on, sniffling pathetically.
“I thought you only had seven questions—“
“Question eight!” Remus proclaimed, “why are you so self conscious?”
Logan spluttered.
“What do you mean?”
“What do I mean? Uh. It’s like, four am, and you’re in your usual clothes. I’m in my boxers. It’s a little weird.”
Logan looked over Remus. Pale, a few small scars unique to him. The octopi boxers. 
“I prefer to remain clothed,” Logan said, “especially in places where I could be seen. I have a reputation to uphold.”
Remus snorted.
“Whatever, I’ll get an honest answer from you one day. Now, question seven and six— question seven! What should I cook tomorrow? Er, tomorrow at this time. Time is weird.”
Logan paused, sipping the water slowly. He could say some basic dish, and join him for that, or he could test the theories building in his head, test the limits of the chart by throwing a new variable into the schedule, that variable being Remus.
“Croissants!” Logan exclaimed. He took a deep breath. “Yes. Croissants. Homemade croissants.”
Remus’ brows shot up. He flicked his wrist, and a piece of worn looking paper appeared in his hand. He glanced at the paper, eyes going wide.
“Ah, fuck, this recipe takes like, twelve hours just to prepare the dough, holy shit! This’ll take all day—“
“If you begin the preparation at three thirty am, you’ll be done at four forty pm on the dot.”
Remus looked at Logan with a bright smile. There was still a grain of rice stuck in his mustache, as white as the streak in his hair. Logan blinked slowly, suddenly struck with the urge to say something was pointless so Remus would get closer, press their foreheads together and do… something. Remus flicked his wrist, and the recipe disappeared in a burst of smoke.
“Perfect!” Remus exclaimed, “Come around the kitchen then, tomorrow, I mean. And I’ll make you the Cwossaints.”
“Croissants,” Logan deadpanned. 
“Oh, keep talking French to me, honeycomb! Ah! But now, it is time for the last question, question six!” 
Remus struck a pose, and a pan flew out of the fridge and clattered onto the stove. Pale, polished bones stuck up— oh, the lamb. With a snap of Remus’ fingers, the pan suddenly burst into a plume of green flame, lapping at the walls and the ceiling, leaving no mark, as Remus’ destruction typically did. The rich smell of garlic and cooked meat filled the kitchen. Logan stared at Remus, unblinking. 
“Question six,” he repeated.
Remus made a face, but nodded and spoke. “Yeah, question six! Do you want to eat with me? The lamb and the risotto? I promise, it’s heavenly! And good company would make it even better!”
Logan stared at the stove. Alright. Pros and cons. It was four am, but he could still be logical, weigh his options. 
Pros: A good meal, conversation with someone who listened.
Cons: lack of sleep, another distraction, what if the others find out. 
“I’m sorry,” Logan said, standing from the table, and gingerly pushing his chair back, “but I really should be going back to sleep. It certainly smells wonderful, but I really must be going to bed.”
Remus crumpled a little, dropping the pose.
“Yeah, sure, whatever! I’m sure Jannie will eat it for breakfast. But you’re eating the cross-I-ants, or I’ll skin you.”
Logan nodded, and took a step backward. 
“I will.”
Remus stood, picking up the wine bottle and passing it to Logan. Logan took the bottle, filled with water, not the wine. He gave Remus a tight lipped smile, and walked to the stairs. Logan set his hand on the banister.
“Remus?”
“Yes?” 
Logan didn’t dare look at Remus.
“You have a grain of rice in your mustache.”
Remus cackled as Logan ascended the stairs, not looking behind him. It was as if he was a child again, running away from some sort of shadow monster that emerged only in the darkness. Running away, not from Remus, but from something. A lot of things. The water in the wine bottle sloshed.
Logan reached his room and flung the door open. His bed was perfectly made, indigo sheets pulled up nice and trim with no sign of being slept in. The lights were still on, bathing the room in clinical white light. His desk was covered in papers that he should’ve already looked over. A well loved indigo office chair sat in front of the desk. He set the wine bottle on his desk, and leaned over his chair. There was his chart. Almost reverently, he took a green marker, and, in the once empty space, wrote Remus’ name. 
There. It was done. He’d finished it. It was neat and tidy, and his. He exhaled slowly. Carefully, he undid his tie, then slipped off his shirt. After that, his shoes, then his jeans. He folded them neatly, and set them at the foot of his perfectly made bed. Sleep. Sleep sounded good. So did a lamb dinner. But there would be croissants, another excuse to sit at the kitchen table and be asked silly, harmless questions while studying the pale skin of Remus’ back.
Logan snapped his fingers to turn the lights off, and sat down in the office chair. Nice and comfortable. He relaxed, and took slow, deep breaths to take himself to sleep.
Each breath smelled like cooked lamb and wine.
536 notes · View notes
burnedbyshoto · 5 years
Text
Angel
Kinktober Day 22 ~ kink: sixty-nine
pairing: fuck buddy!iida tenya x fem!reader
warnings: smut, cursing
word count: 4,813
a/n: HEEEHEHHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE I LOVE THISSSSS PLEASE READ IT
✩✶✩❇✩✶✩
Iida Tenya was always someone who considered himself to be a virtuous man.
First and foremost he was a gentleman. He was always ready and willing to lend a hand to someone in need. The women he courted were always impressed by his actions. His integrity and his devotions.
Second of all, he was a Pro-Hero. A model to others, a figure of support for those who believed themselves to be hopeless. He was strong, and he was mighty. Swift and keen.
You considered yourself to be diligent and persevering.
First and foremost you were a lady. You were always helping those in need. Assisting those who needed attention and devotion. The men that courted you were always left wanting more, needing more.
Second of all, you were a sex worker. A shame to most people in society. A woman of the night who emerged to help out those disgruntled men, cheating men, unwanted men. Nevertheless, you were tenacious, full of fortitude, and vigor.
You never expected to run into Pro-Hero: Ingenium, especially not in your club.
You worked in the notorious strip club: Limbo. The most well-known club in the red light district in Tokyo.
You had been working there since you had turned eighteen. Most other things in your life had been terrible at the time. The people working at this club had wholeheartedly accepted you. At first, you had stuck primarily to waiting. Taking drinks to clients. Making sure they were all happy as they watched your co-workers--your family--up on stage.
You helped in purchasing of private rooms. At least for the few men and women who had managed to prove themselves worthy to the workers. When you had turned twenty, you took to the stage, creating a new persona to present to clients. You were a massive hit and everyone wanted you.
With your signature light pink wig and white lingerie and costumes, you had become Angel.
Limbo presented you like no other. You were the star of the show.
Your presence was so powerful, so compelling that other clubs were shutting down.
So when death threats came around, it was to no surprise the night that someone took action.
While on stage, someone fired a gun, it landed centimeters from your head as you were then rushed out.
You couldn’t remember much of that night. Only that your white lingerie was now stained with your sweat and tears. Your makeup running down your face as the pink wig fell from your head. Someone had tried to kill you and nearly succeeded.
What you never expected, the next day following, was that when you graced the stage. Proving to everyone that you weren’t afraid was for Pro-Heroes to be at the back of the club. The audience cheered as the light focused in on you. Yens already thrown onto the stage as you covered your body with the white faux fur jacket.
The music played, and your body moved with the music. The music was soft, light and sweet in your ears. Your body rolling with the melody, clothes dropping during the harmony.
Your eyes continued watching the back where the Pro-Heroes stood. You could feel them staring at you as you leaned down, your supple ass exposed for them all to see. The slight lean up before you rolled down on your knees, crawling to a man in front of you. Eyes dark with faux lust as you grabbed his tie. Your mouth ghosting his lips as he dropped the contents of his wallet on you. Your giggle rings with the song, your deep red painted lips leaving a mark against his clammy mouth.
Still, their eyes are very locked on you.
Groans of jealousy filling the room as you stand back up. Your fingers slowly unbutton the shirt you wear. Your eyes locked on an awe-struck look on her face as you let the fabric of your button-up fall off your shoulders. Pooling at your elbows.
Screams filled the room as you mounted the girl. Her trembling fingers shaking against your legs as your hips rolled. Your hands grasped onto the collar of her shirt as you pulled her in. Your lips pressing against her neck as you stood off her. Your lips pressing against hers as hoots and shouts fill the room.
You twirl back on stage. You find that the Pro-Heroes seem enticed by you as your fingers touch the cold pole behind you. A confident smile fills your face as you grip the pole. There were definitely pluses to being able to use your body like this.
✩✶✩❇✩✶✩
You sat backstage, the pink wig taken off your head as you fixed your natural hair. While you weren’t ashamed of your line of work, you did not like having to interact with clients outside of Limbo.
“Y/l/n,” Your manager calls for you, and while fixing the last bits to your hair, you turned. Your manager was smiling, her finger thrusting towards the man beside her. Your eyes widened at the sight of Ingenium beside her. “We’ve hired this dashing young hero to be your bodyguard while here!”
“Kina-san, that’s not necessary!” You exclaim, your cheeks flushing in embarrassment. You didn’t think that you needed any bodyguard.
“Yes, it is,” Kina scolds, her lips tugged into a frown. “We could have lost you yesterday! Until Ingenium and the Pro-Heroes find whoever enacted on their threat; we’re not letting you go anywhere. At least not alone!”
You lick your lips, your mouth twisting. “I think that’s a bit too much, I’m sure Ingenium has much bigger cases to worry about than acting as my babysitter!”
“Actually,” Ingenium states, his deep voice very clear through the mask. Your eyes snap over to the armored hero who has a hand raised. “I don’t do much after midnight, so this works out perfectly.”
Kina smirks, folding her arms, “So, I better not see you without him.”
Your cheeks puff out in irritation as you know that there is nothing that you can do to change her mind. “Fine!” You agree, standing up. You’re still adorning the white lingerie that you had worn for your performance. You march over to Ingenium who seems to panic and looks everywhere but at your scantily clothed body. “I’m y/l/n y/n, but you can also call me--”
“A-Angel.” The Pro-Hero stammers, “I do remember hearing that.”
Your lips curl into a wide and pleasant smile, “Oh, good.”
✩✶✩❇✩✶✩
“This is me.” You say pointing at the run-down apartment where you lived. You could definitely afford a better place now, but you enjoyed the comfort of this building. The future you built here, the person you’d become stained the walls of your apartment.
“You’re taking this situation very robustly,” Ingenium compliments as you open the gate to the building. He shakes his head, his hands flying as he corrects himself, “The being shot at situation. Most people would not be this calm about something like that.”
You shrug your shoulders as you begin climbing up the staircase. Your hands clasped together as you speak, “I just don’t think there’s a reason to worry about it now. They have you guys patrolling our club now. Bouncers are checking for any concealed weapons! Also, prior-quirk information is being implemented soon.”
He nods his head, agreeing with you. “But still, this is about your safety, and there is no joking about it. That is why I’m here.”
You giggle softly as you get to your apartment, your fingers on your keys as you unlock the door. “Well, I’m glad I have a strong and valiant hero to protect me. Thank you, Ingenium-san.”
“Please, call me Iida.”
“Iida.” You smile at him, your eyes falling down as your heart hammers in your chest. He had been a very nice companionship on the typical quiet walk home.
“Well, I wish you a good night, and call me if you need anything,” Iida tells you, and you nod.
You watch as he turns on his heel, prepping to run away at high speeds when your voice interrupts him. “Would you like to come in for a bit?” You ask, your head cocked to the side as an innocuous smile brightens your face.
“W-What?”
“Well, I figure if you’re going to be visiting me and taking care of me, I should do the same.” You state, eyes murky with humor and wantonness.
“I-I… um, well…” Iida stammers, and you can practically see his inflamed cheeks under his helmet.
“I won’t bite,” You promise as your hands reach for his. He doesn’t pull away as you drag him towards you.
Your front door clicks behind the two of you.
The night was coming to an end, but there was still much, much, to do.
So began the ongoing seven months sex relationship with the one and only, Pro-Hero: Ingenium. Better known as Iida Tenya to you now.
✩✶✩❇✩✶✩
Iida moans against your mouth as you have him pinned to your front door. Your fingers rake up and down his armored chest as he drops his helmet without thought. “I’ve missed you,” you whisper against his opened mouth.
The deep chuckle resonating in your mouth confirms his appreciation of you. Your nimble fingers work off the armored pieces of his uniform. They fall to the floor of your apartment with loud clatters, bangs that would normally scare you, but go unnoticed.
His lips are your addiction, and you soak him up. Your fingers gripping the tight black t-shirt that clings to his well-sculpted body. Your innate desire for him breaking through as his own hands press greedily against your bare skin.
Today had been your day off.
After a single month, they had caught the since shut down club responsible for your failed murder. It didn’t matter that he had been captured and arrested, Iida was always there to escort you home. It was always in the dead of night when you two interacted. You were mostly asleep during the day, then would be off to practice a new routine, or find a new costume. Iida was active during the day, dealing with his hero work, and maintaining the peace of Japan. But without fail he would walk you home.
You weren’t a couple, conflicts in your schedules were the main reason why things didn’t work out, or so you figured. But you guys were pretty damn close to one. He spent the night at your place four times a week, some nights didn’t even result in sex. Rough days at work concluded with soft touches and cuddles. Your arms wrapped around him as you curled into his chest. Your relationship was pure, soft, and gentle.
Of course, there were nights like these. Where the other was desperate for the other, craving the feeling of their skin and sex as they fucked the night away. Nights that began with a simple ‘i need you’ text. All in all, your relationship with Iida Tenya was that of friends with benefits. To put it even more simply, you were fuck buddies.
Iida’s scarred fingers gripped your hair, your body pressed against his own as you craved more of him. It had been two weeks since you had seen him. Iida had been away on a press conference. While away there had been many exchanged sexts, pictures, and even video calls. It was not the same as having him under your fingertips.
“And you said you could last an entire month without me.” Iida taunts you, a smirk on his lips as you pinch his skin.
“You were being an utter asshole to me that day!” You grumble as his hot mouth trails open mouth, tongue pressed, kisses to your neck. An appreciative exhale leaving your lips as you tilt your head to the side giving him more access to your soft skin.
“I just remember you being a brat,” Iida counters, his canines dragging against your teased skin. Your back arches against him, your arms trembling as he lifts you up. Your knees locking onto his sides as Iida pulls away, staring at your heated face. “How should I fuck you?” He wonders, and a chill travels through your body at those words. Your core coming to life as his fingers rub circles into your plump ass.
“Whichever way I want you to fuck me.” You interject, his red eyes falling on yours.
“Why should I do that, angel?” He asks, his hips snapping to press against your low aching core. A longing noise leaves your mouth at the pet’s name.
There was a difference between Angel and angel. You loved your stage name because it empowered you, but the way Iida called you an angel? It was weakening, your body trembling because of the hold he had over you.
“I-I want to suck your dick,” You whisper into his ear, your hips grazing against his growing arousal. “I want you in my mouth, your body squirming because of my touch, your voice praising me.” Your mouth sucks softly against a special spot on his neck. A sensitive spot that never failed to make Iida lose his gentleman composure.
The fervor groan that echoes in your ear shoots fire through you as you find yourself back on your feet. Confusion inks your eyes as you watch Iida strip off the rest of his clothes. Gone is the tight black t-shirt, the navy blue joggers shoved down to his feet. He kicks them off as you continue staring. His fingers hooking around the waistband of his very tented boxers. His red eyes are nearly burgundy when he looks up at you.
“Strip.” He says. Your eyes wander down to your white tank top and black running shorts. Your face confused on why you had to be naked to suck his dick. “Strip.” He commands. Iida’s hands grasp your tank top, pulling the fabric over your head.
Your breasts fall down. An embarrassed squeal leaving your mouth as you are instinctively covering up. You look at Iida who is pulling off his underwear, his hard cock bouncing up from its initial restraint. Your breathing quickens as you pull your shorts down. Your body shivering as the cold air hits your burning core. “Why am I--TENYA!”
Your world is now upside down, and your fingers seize onto his thighs. Your own thighs lay against his toned shoulders, and you feel dizzy from the sudden flip. The blood rushing to your head as you try twisting your head to look at Iida. “Suck my dick.” Iida all but orders you, and your eyes widen as he licks your pussy.
Your eyes clench at the sensation. Your body trembling at the feeling of his heated appendage licking your throbbing cunt. You shudder as your hand grips his thick cock. His tongue swirls within you. His appreciation evident in the way his fingers tighten their hold against your waist.
It must be the rush of blood in your head. Your body drunk off of your need of Iida, but the second Iida’s cock enters your mouth you feel as if you are in heaven. Your cheeks hollow out as you move among his length. His tongue coaxing your own clenching pussy as you continue bobbing your head.
Your teeth are teasing against the bulging vein on the underside of his cock. Your tongue wrapping around the twitching cock. You switched from side to side as Iida moans in commendation. Your head thumps with every heartbeat. Your hand wrapped around the area of his dick you could not place into your mouth.
Back and forward, back and forward.
Saliva slobbering out of your mouth as you continue your routine on his cock.
Iida’s noises will you forward. The tremble in his legs exciting you and his teeth nibble against your puffy nerve. Your jaw drops, a moan slamming out of your throat. Vibrating around his cock as the head his the back of your cock, making you gag.
Iida presses two fingers into your core. The feeling of his thick and rough fingers making you squeeze his head between your thighs.
“Come on, suck my fucking cock, angel.” Iida murmurs against your cunt, and you nod your head. You deepen the angle, his cock sliding down further in your throat. His head presses uncomfortably against the back of your throat, the new angle not easy for you to deal with.
Iida moans loudly, his head dipping back as your fingers moving to go around the back of his thighs. Your head worked in synch with his thrusting hips, your head bouncing against his hard length. The soft gags that escape your throat only prompting on the Pro-Hero to try getting you closer to the edge. Desperate for your own orgasm, too.
Your eyes fluttered as you stare at his balls, you stick out a hand, fondling the skin between your fingers. Iida’s lewd words pummeling from his lips as he encouraged you on. His own fingers curling within your inner walls.
You groaned as your mouth took him in further. The vibrations that shot against his heated skin made Iida curse. Oh, the things you did to him.
“Fuck, angel,” He jeers as his hips snap into your mouth.
You choke as he hits the back of your throat at full force on top of the weird entrance angle. Tears springing into your eyes as you are failing at adjusting to having his length in your mouth. You grasp the back of his legs as you relax your jaw and throat further, his hips snapping into your mouth with no mercy.
His fingers scissoring within your inner walls, your body jerking under his mercy. “Listen to me, I want you to have me completely in your mouth.” He growls as you. “Don’t you dare leave anything out.”
The simple command sends pressure through your body. The liquid heat of your arousal making audible noises against his tongue and fingers.
You whine around his dick, his hips relentless in their conquest. Your eyes barely keep themselves open as he fucks your face. The skin of his hips hitting your nose as you have him completely down your throat. “You’re so pretty when you’re choking on my cock, angel.” Iida groans as dick spam within your mouth, and you choke around him again. Fire erupting in your lungs from the lack of oxygen, but it feels so fucking good.
His fingers are powerful as they enter and exit your pussy. His tongue lapping in with a smooth rhythm that makes your body tremble. The building sensation of his thrusting fingers and tongue in your core making your vision fuzzy.
You relish in the feeling of the head of his manhood hitting the back of your throat. Your lungs scream for air, but you can’t pull away. You once more gag on his length, your airway burning as he does not stop. You repeated your action, feeling Iida hit the back of your throat as you continue sucking his dick. Your fingers rushing forth to once again groping his balls, and he curses your name.
It’s your first name this time that escapes his lips, and it sends a spine chilling sensation down your body. You hum as your mouth sinks entirely against his length until your lips brush against the base of his cock. His wiggling tongue adds more to the shooting pleasure in your bloodstream. Your hips moving around in circles desperate for more friction. Needy for more pressure. He’s so fucking good at lavishing your sopping cunt.
“Shit, fuck, shit.” Iida grunts, his head tilting back as he unloads in your awaiting mouth. His hot seed shooting down your throat as you choke slightly. Pulling away, you heave as he digs his tongue and fingers down your clenching hole, and you shriek as you come.
You feel dizzy. The white-hot heat making you swoon as he places you back onto your feet. Your head collapses against his chest as Iida holds you gently by your waist. “Are you okay?” He asks you, and you nod.
That was insane.
“I still want your dick…” You mumble, your fingers pushing through his thick black hair.
Iida laughs nodding, “Anything for you, angel.” You’re picked up easily as Iida takes you to your bedroom. The slamming door behind him rattles as your giggles are drowned out as he presses a kiss to your lips.
Iida smiles as he crawls on top of you, his mouth latching onto your jaw. A shuddering noise leaves your mouth as you place your trembling fingers against his shoulders. “I missed you.” You repeat, your eyes clenched as Iida nods his head. The sounds of his lips peppering your skin making your body heat up.
His lips leave your person, and you open up. Your eyes heavy with lust as you peer at Iida who is grabbing a condom from your dresser. Iida rolls the rubber against his now hard against dick, and you shift onto your elbows. Your chest heaving with your thoughts of what he’s going to do to you.
The air is knocked out of you as Iida grabs onto your hips. Your shoulders pressed onto the mattress, your arms flat, and your head pressed into a pillow. Iida supports your lower back and legs as he teases your entrance.
He’s still on his knees as he glances at you, his red eyes looking black.
Your cunt throbs at how assertive he looks, how demanding and strong. Iida smiles, he noticed your reaction as he chuckles. “Already so wet for me, angel.” He whispers but his words are loud in your ears.
“Fuck me already, Tenya.” You whimper, your hips shifting in his hands as you desperately try to level yourself to the tip of his cock. Your inner walls needing his length within in you, needing his girth to stretch you out in the best of ways. “Your cock is already hard, too! Don’t pretend that-- oh my gOD!”
Iida slams into you, his thick cock stretching you out in the most incredible way. Your jaw drops as you sputter out gasps. Iida grunting but does not hesitate to continue thrusting his cock into your sore cunt.
The bulging vein on his cock glides against your walls. Your pleased noises making Iida snarl.
His hips snap faster into you, harder into you. Your body shifting with his movements. The pillow bunching under your neck from the repetitive harsh movements.
“TENYA!” You shriek as he ruthlessly slams into you. His hips coming down so fast your body moves with every thrust. Your moans tumble out of your throat as the bed is quick to move with your movements. It squeaks are loud in your ear alongside his insistent pounding.
“What’s that, angel?” He growls, his cock hammering into you at mind bogging speed. “What’s wrong?”
“Tenya!” You scream as your pussy throbs around his pounding cock. You’re unable to even roll your hips in rhythm with him. You were stuck to the mattress, only able to feel his cock entering you at toe-curling speeds. The bulging vein only adding more to your cries. “Oh my god, FUCK you feel so good!”
“You take my cock so well!” Iida grunts as he releases one hand from your thigh and runs it down your inner thigh to press against your clit. Your head thrashes back, your back arching further off the bed as you scream again. Your pussy clenching with no remorse around his dick.
“Your pussy is so fucking tight.” Iida laughs, his hips swiveling. “Do you want to come now, angel?”
You can only nod your head, gasping breathes choking you, as the pressure continues to build and build.
“I need to hear your words.”
“Fuck me harder, Tenya, please I need to come so badly!” You sob out as your body throbs under his thrusting, you’re so close you’re seeing white.
“I knew you would be able to tell me what you needed.” He growls as he leans forward. The furthering of his penetration making you scream as his hand slams near you. Your legs are locked around his waist, and his hands moving to pinch both your clit and nipple.
That’s all it takes and you come hard around his dick, his name ripping through your tender body as he moans. His elbows falling to the mattress as he continues pummeling into you. Chasing after his own orgasm now.
You pant harshly as you move your hips against his own. Your pussy still clenching around his throbbing dick. You hear him expel a wavering sigh, and you can feel him come within you. The heated fluid filling you up as he collapses onto the bed. You moan as you push yourself off the mattress, staring at Iida who leaned up to pull you into his body.
“Welcome back.” You laugh as you fall onto his sweaty chest.
“Glad to be back…”
✩✶✩❇✩✶✩
Your eyes opened softly the following morning as you stared at Iida’s sleeping form.
Despite the nature of your fuck buddy relationship, you were ready to put it out there. You wanted the relationship, the anniversaries, the gifts and showering affection that wasn’t confined to just being a booty call. It was also seven in the morning, so you knew the punctual man would be waking up any moment now.
You sigh, curling up closer into his arms, his right hand holding your waist still.
“Good morning.” His groggy voice pierces your ears. It’s heavy and husky, just as you liked it to be.
“Good morning.” You respond back as you feel him get up. He had to work today, as did you, so that meant that he was going to be doing his morning routine.
You watched him with bright eyes as he slipped on his glasses, and walked into your bathroom, uncaring that he was naked. Your heart hammered in your anxiety, wanting to let him into your desire for a relationship. This was seven months strong, and he seemed to like hanging out with you! There was no way he could say no! Everyone at Limbo agreed as well!
“Tenya?” You called out to him. You sat up, the blanket that was sitting on top of your skin tumbling down. The water faucet turns on and off, and Iida appears in the doorway, toothbrush about to be placed in his mouth as he cleaned his teeth first.
You looked at his quirked eyebrow and you exhaled, your fists tightening. You were y/l/n y/n, an Angel by night, and an angel at home. You got this.
“W-Would you be my boyfriend?” You ask him, your cheeks burning in your awkwardness and shyness. What you saw instead of joy, agreement, or contemplation was horror, sadness, rejection. “T-Tenya?”
“I… I’m sorry.” Iida whispers, his red eyes wide. Discomfort on his face as your eyes blinked rapidly.
“W-What?” You say, trying to make sure you heard him properly. “Is that a no?”
“It is,” Iida whispers, and for the first time since you met him, his hands are glued to his side. “I can’t date you… I’m sorry…”
A bitter acid burns in your throat as you stare at him, your body trembling as ice seeps into your bloodstream. “Why?” You spit at him, your eyes burning holes into his face.
“I do like you, a lot, angel,” Iida says, taking a hesitant step towards you.
“No,” You snap, your eyes watering with tears as your lips curls into a sneer. “If you did you would have said yes.”
“I can’t be associated... I can’t date, someone within your line of work. It would not be seen as honorable of me.” Iida admits, and the rest of his words fall deaf on your ears as you feel your world tumbling around you.
“Because being in love with a sex worker is a shame,” You say, your head shaking as you stand up. “How dare you, the ever so noble Ingenium, date someone like me? Someone who uses their body for the sake of others, huh?”
“Well--”
“No!” You yell, your eyebrows scrunching as your trembling fingers clench into a solid fist. “You’re the one sleeping around with a sex worker! You’re the one who was insistent on our relationship! How the fuck was that ever honorable of you? Fuck you, Iida. Get the hell out of my house!”
Iida stares at you, eyes wide, toothbrush limps in his fingers.
“Get. Out!” You yell, shoving the Pro-Hero towards the door. Your rage bitter on your tongue as Iida is barely able to shove on clothes before you shove him out of your house. Your broken screams are hopeless as you sink to the floor.
Fuck buddies never end in anything but sadness and you knew that from the start.
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rsadelle · 4 years
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The best books I read in 2020
I read 167 books in 2020, which is a little more than one and a half times as many as I read in 2019. (I had a crisis of counting at one point when I read a string of novellas, but ultimately came down on the side of if I can check out the ebook from the library as a single volume, then it counts as a book for the purposes of my list.) Only ten of those are books I reread, which is a fairly low reread number/percentage for me. The large number of books I read this year made it extra difficult to narrow down a small number of the best ones, which is why this list is longer than in previous years. It is, in fact, long enough that I have put it behind a cut to spare your dash.
Top 11 fiction books/series I read for the first time in 2020
Bread Alone trilogy (Bread Alone, The Baker's Apprentice, and Baker's Blues) by Judith Ryan Hendricks - I so enjoyed this trilogy about bread baking and figuring out your life and building a home/community and love. I read it at the beginning of the pandemic, when everyone was baking bread, and it was one of those things I was sad to finish because I didn't want to leave the characters.
Never Have I Ever by Joshilyn Jackson - I have read a lot of suburban housewife with a secret books over the last couple of years. This was an excellent example of the genre with the good use of a thematic motif and a second secret reveal after you learn what you think is the biggest secret. Content notes: I had to skim a few chapters because of the large amount of weight and disordered eating content (which is relevant to the character), and there is sexual abuse of a young teenager by an adult as part of the story.
The City We Became by N.K. Jemisin - This was such an interesting concept and done so well. It was one of the most popular books my sci fi book club read this year, and the New Yorker in our group said it was her favorite New York book ever. The most disappointing part of this book is that it's the first book in a trilogy and the other books haven't been published yet. Content notes: eldritch horror and realistic racism.
The Sci-Regency Series (My Fair Captain, The Englor Affair, My Regelence Rake, Diplomatic Relations, and My Highland Laird) by J.L. Langley - The delightfully ludicrous premise of this series is that there is a gay Regency society in space, which makes for some really fun romances. I've loved this series for over a decade, and I was thrilled to reread the first three books before reading the two new books that came out this summer. I recommend reading the novels in order, as there is an overarching plot involving the Intergalactic Navy that is interesting and ongoing without overshadowing the romances. Content note: these are on the erotica end of the romance spectrum, which means they have very explicit sex scenes. I wrote a lot more about this series in a Yuletide promo post comment.
The Most Fun We Ever Had by Claire Lombardo - I was so sad to finish this book! I have read a lot of commercial/literary fiction about families in the past few years, and this might be my favorite. I found the characters really compelling and enjoyed seeing their differing perspectives. I didn't want to leave this family.
Throne of Glass series (Throne of Glass, Crown of Midnight, Heir of Fire, Queen of Shadows, Empire of Storms, Tower of Dawn, and Kingdom of Ash) by Sarah J. Maas - This YA fantasy series shouldn't work given its constant escalation, and yet, somehow it does. I greatly enjoyed it, and I cried more than once at the last book. This is a series where I recommend not reading anything about future books until you've read all the books before them so you can enjoy the continual reveals. These are very much genre novels, and if you don't like the genre, these books will not be for you. Content note: there is a lot of genre-typical violence.
The Great Believers by Rebecca Makkai - I admit that I was mildly skeptical about this book given that what I knew about it was that it was a story about the AIDS epidemic where one of the two timelines is about a woman trying to reconnect with her daughter, but I ended up loving it. The two alternating timelines fit together beautifully, and I thought it did a good job of not eliding the horror of the AIDS epidemic experienced by the gay community in favor of the straight woman's experience. I do remain skeptical of how many awards it won; while it was a genuinely excellent book, I also know that awards bodies love dead queer people.
We Set the Dark on Fire and We Unleash the Merciless Storm by Tehlor Kay Mejia - I loved this YA dystopianish (more cultural class divide than apocalypse or singular villain in control) duology about queer women falling in love while working toward revolution. The world building was good, the plot was good, and the romance was good.
Sisters of the Vast Black by Lina Rather - This novella about an order of nuns who travel through space in an organic slug-like spaceship was absolutely wonderful. It deals with issues of faith, purpose, central control, and doing what you can to make the world a better place.
Sorcery of Thorns by Margaret Rogerson - I loved this YA novel in a sort of Regency-ish setting about a girl who grew up in a library full of magic books and her dealings with some sorcerers, complete with a romance. Content note: attempted mental coercion and institutionalization.
The Wren Hunt and The Wickerlight by Mary Watson - This is a YA duology about rival druid groups in modern day Ireland. I found both books totally compelling with interesting druid politics and magic. It was also really interesting how well we get to see the worst of both sides of the rival druid groups in the two different books.
Top 5 books/series I read and then thought about a lot in 2020
The Twisted Ones by T. Kingfisher - A friend recommended the author to me. This particularly book is a supernatural horror novel I don't necessarily recommend. However, I have continued to think about elements of it since I read it. (Before you @ me about the author's other work, this was the third of her books I read and the other two were in the more beloved fantasy novel genre.)
The Calculating Stars by Mary Robinette Kowal - I actually didn't like this book that much. We read it for a book club, and it had an interesting concept that wasn't super well executed. However, I have thought about elements of it a lot since then, particularly in comparison to some of the other sci fi I encountered this year.
Gideon the Ninth and Harrow the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir - I don't know how much "I actively thought about these a lot" describes my actual experience of having read these, but given their popularity and the number of conversations I had about them, I can't omit them from this post entirely. I liked the first one once I figured out what kind of story it actually was, had absolutely no idea what was happening at any point in the second one, and discovered with both of them that I have a much more limited vocabulary than I thought, at least when it comes to death-related words. I am invested enough that I will read the third book when it comes out, but probably won't read any more of the author's work beyond that. If you want to know more about what I thought, I wrote a very spoilery post about them.
The Sixth World (Trail of Lightning and Storm of Locusts) by Rebecca Roanhorse - This is a pair of novels set in a post-apocalyptic world where there's a magically/divinely-erected wall around Dinétah (the Navajo lands). The worldbuilding and characters are so interesting, and it's a series where some of the details stuck with me and I would randomly think of them. I'm looking forward to reading one of her other books in a few months for my sci fi book club.
Wild Mercy: Living the Fierce and Tender Wisdom of the Women Mystics by Mirabai Starr - This was one of two books about women mystics I read and disliked this year, and the more disappointing of the two as I'd heard an interview with the author that I found interesting. I continued to think about this one a lot in an angry, "and another thing!" way, which did help me articulate more of the things I dislike about new age-ish framing of "feminine" wisdom/divinity/knowledge.
Top 3 non-fiction books I read in 2020
The Vagina Bible: The vulva and the vagina - separating the myth from the medicine by Dr. Jen Gunter - This is probably better as a reference work than as a straight read-through, but it was interesting enough to read straight through. The book is deeply rooted in science and facts, and she has a whole chapter on "Vaginas and Vulvas in Transition" specifically about anatomy for trans people.
Here All Along: Finding Meaning, Spirituality, and a Deeper Connection to Life - in Judaism (After Finally Choosing to Look There) by Sarah Hurwitz - This is a useful, contemporary introduction to Judaism from someone who shares a lot of my values. The first half is an introduction to Jewish thought, while the second half focuses more on spirituality and practice. The book is part general introduction and part spiritual memoir. I found it deeply inspirational and I added it to a wish list of books I want to own copies of (I read it as a library ebook) because I would like to both reread it in hardcopy where I can easily flip back and forth and use it as a resource for further study and reading.
You Can Draw in 30 Days by Mark Kistler - You may remember that I wrote more about this when I originally finished reading the book. I found it a gentle, funny, helpful book to teach you the basics of drawing.
The 2 authors I read the most in 2020
Jennifer Lynne Barnes - I read fifteen of her books in three weeks in January, when I was still working full time, and a sixteenth after it was published later in the year. Her books are fast-read YA novels that are deeply engaging and generally have some sort of mystery element to them which may or may not involve family secrets. She has a tendency to write variations of the same characters, which meant that I enjoyed mentally mapping the characters from various books onto characters from other books. Also, her werewolf trilogy does one of my favorite werewolf story things that you almost never see (but it doesn't happen until the end of the first book, so I won't spoil it by telling you what it is). Many of her books involve violence, so heed the summaries or email/message me if you want some content notes.
Laura Lippman - I read nineteen of her books this year, eighteen novels and a non-fiction essay collection. She's an excellent mystery writer with a distinctive voice. The time I read four of her books in four days, I found myself thinking in her style. Even if I hadn't otherwise enjoyed My Life As A Villainess, her essay collection, it would have been worth reading just for the kicker on "The Thirty-First Stocking." Content note: her novels frequently involve violence or its aftermath.
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Ally x Cordelia x Reader (part 4)
I’m more active on posting on wattpad currently or at least they come out straight after writing.
This is two and a half times longer than the other parts.  I tried to edit it but I don't think that went very well so... Enjoy.
Also, I may have made Cordelia a dick in this, but I'll fix it in a later chapter maybe.
Parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five (will be added when posted)
Late in the night with nothing but your phone to light the inside of your car, the button for the dome lights in your car jammed from childish use years ago. Your car was due for an upgrade but instead of replacing the heap of junk you poorly maintained it and persuaded the mechanics to pass the heap of metal as safe for driving.
You're phoned buzzed once more.
Your forehead rested on the steering wheel, you pulled yourself to sit upright and glanced at the phone.
Your car was parked a block away from the building. The key in the lock ready to start the car's engine. The phone was nestled amongst the stolen blanket on the passenger's side. The phone confirmed your suspicion about the number of missed text messaged and phone calls, not only from Ally and Cordelia but also varies students warning you that you were in big trouble when you got home.
It would be another seven hours until you got back to the school and you'd have to count in for a pit stop or two to pick up coffee or another caffeine-filled beverage. A part of you was thankful for your long nights back in the hospital (also uni), it was useful for all-nighters.
It could be another seven hours before you'd have to respond back to anyone, there's not much they can do. Cordelia had the other girls to look after and Ally- well she has her son. You had no one- not anymore.
Then again, Cordelia would go hell and back to protect her own and ignoring the fact that you were her girlfriend, were still 'one of her girls'. Nothing like this had happened, at least with someone she cared about.
You sighed. You better make sure she doesn't come searching for you. Of the two, you'd be in hotter water with the blonde. Considering the time, they'd most likely be together.
The phone picked up immediately.
"Hello," you said.
"Y/n, oh thank goodness you're safe," The voice on the other end said.
"Why wouldn't I be," you kidded your voice quivering.
"You're so stupid why would you go without telling us. We told you it was a trap. You could have died."
"I didn't- don't you worry. I'm fine" you said. Should you tell them about your Discovery. Probably. It would cause her to worry more about your recklessness but who cares it's not a targeted attack, but the witches just got caught in the Crossfire. Then again, how are you going to explain away your findings? They didn't know, couldn't know. "It was a dead-end nothing came of it I'll see you when I get back home ok."
You hung up and powered on your 7-hour drive back to New Orleans.
It wasn't until hours after you'd left that the two noticed learned of your absence. They came up with a plan of attack when a student interrupted to inform them of a student's injury. When asked why the girl didn't inform you, they were informed that you left in a rush, muttering something about having business to take care of.
Everyone in the school was now aware of your absence and while Cordelia tried to help the injured student, Ally dialled your mobile.
"No response?" Ally shook her head, her phone still pressed to her ear in case you picked up. She paced around Cordelia's office begging for you to pick up. It was close to midnight but neither of them dared to sleep until they heard from you. The only thing that stopped Cordelia from dashing out was the fact that she was sure she'd have some sort of vision or someone in the school would if something accord. It was the only thought she had that could slightly calm her down even if it weren't true.
"I can't believe she did that. Why- this isn't like her-"
"Yes, it is," Ally cut in. "It's exactly like her."
"She's never done this before-"
"She goes against us all the time" Cordelia was too shocked to listen. "When it comes to the woman's safety when has she ever listened-"
"She never used to do this when she was in school."
"That was like what 15 years ago"
"13" Cordelia corrected.
"My point exactly. Are you the same person you were 13 years ago?"
"No but-"
"But nothing. The moment she left the school you no record of her life. You don't know how she became the person she is today. She had experiences that shaped her into the person she is now. But in the 2 years she's been with us, has she shown any sign of the person she was before."
Cordelia paused and thought about it. To an extent you were, like anyone, you kept the same core soul you had before but the circle of people you surrounded yourself around was different and with that came different reactions and experiences for you. You were no longer the good-natured student; she would go so far to say this is a late rebellious phase. You always cared about others safety over your own but this was a step to far. If you were like this before then she never noticed. You still had some sense to talk to, allow to be helped instead of playing this 'saviour' complex you'd adopted. She wondered where that came from.
The two had seen you in times of need, your recent development of 'sleepwalking' as an example. The two offered to help you figure out where this developed from, but you were apprehensive.
Cordelia was thankful the doors were shut. She crumbled into the nearest seat, covering her face with her hands. "What do we do?"
Ally moved closer to her girlfriend, resting her wait on the armrest, she pulled the blonde closer. She rubs circles on the woman's shoulder with her thumb while staring vacantly at the opposing wall. Before Ally could speak, Cordelia's phone rung. Cordelia lept to answer it.
"Y/n, oh thank goodness you're safe," Cordelia said relieved to hear your voice.
When the phone call was done, Cordelia placed her phone down on the table and leant into Ally's body muttering, "This woman is going to be the death of me."
The two remained in the comfort of each other until Ally suggested that they should head off to bed. They cuddled up with each other, Cordelia rested her head on Ally's chest. Ally ran her hands through Cordelia's hair wondering what the woman was thinking. Cordelia fixated on the roof, occasionally her hand fiddled with the fabric of Ally's nightshirt.
Ally was as stressed, if not more than Cordelia, but hid it from the other woman. Her stress would only make the situation worse. She rushed around, dialling your number trying to find out if you were safe. Now that she knew you were, she had new worries. Why did you make the rash decision of going yourself?
A part of her was shocked that she wasn't the one anxious, in a sense, she caused you to act. If you had never known, you couldn't have gone. Then again, the stress from the incident had prepared her body for the sudden anxiety. Who cares about that now? They both needed a distraction until you returned.
"You've known Y/N for a long time, what was she like when she was younger?" Ally asked.
"Very similar. However, she had less friends." She pulled her gaze from the ceiling to the brunette. "She had this one, they were inseparable, we used to joke that they would end up marrying each other they were so close," She chuckled at the thought. Then she stopped halfway through and thought to herself before continuing. Ally didn't understand why that was until Cordelia spoke again. " I hadn't heard from her in years, they must have fought, I can't explain why Y/n wouldn't speak about her otherwise. I remember bringing her up not long after Y/n came back and she brushed me off. The only other time I brought it up was by text asking if she had any of her recipes that the two used to make. They are the best chefs. You won't guess that with how often Y/n has nearly set the kitchen on fire but their Chocolate Cheesecake was to die for." She began to list all the desserts you'd use to make and all the meals your friend would make.
"They used to host bake-offs and convinced all students to get involved. The kitchen was always a disaster by the end of it. You'd be finding offcuts days after. We had to implement a rule for when the two girls hosted this torment they had to clean up afterwards. To which they made it a rule to tidy as you go."
"Did they judge?" Ally asked.
"No, that's the best part, they managed to convince the teachers to judge," Cordelia smiled as she reminisced. "Most of us would have helped but I know for a fact one of the teachers despised her. Can't remember why. OH, I forgot-"
"What?"
"You remember My Auntie Myrtle?" By name, Ally remembered. She never met her. "One time she came in for a visit during one of the bake-offs and she unintentionally entered the 'war zone' between Y/n and one of the older students and let's just say no one left without being covered in food that day. Y/n came second that day, I think she lost because she started the food fight.
Cordelia went on about stories from your school days until the two fell to sleep.
It was early in the morning when you finally parked outside the school. You hid the blanket in the glove compartment before exiting and locking up your car.
Delphi trust, how could it be Delphi trust. You and your hand through your hair I think is getting Tangled in the locks. more importantly, how did they get those items? you hadn't seen any of them in 18 months if not longer why haunt you with them now.
Before you could pull your keys out the door swung open it was Ally. You pulled up about 7 she should have been at work, yet she stood there front of you in her pyjamas. You couldn't decipher her expression a bit over 7 hours since you last spoke, she had long enough to calm down and talk with Cordelia. Her hand was still clenched around the doorknob and the door closed except The Gap she stood between. Unlike the other woman, you have yet to speak to her.
You slowly approached her, running potential dialogue through your head. What would she say?
You suck your hands into your pockets, your hand's fiddle with the loose ring. You almost forgot you stole it or did they steal it from you? You need to find it a hiding spot. Maybe with its pair.
"Are you trying to save me you ask?"
You can tell she's fighting off the urge to scold you. She went to say something but stopped herself. She shook her head, opened the door wider and said, "She somehow managed to blame me for your idiocy." As if Ally not sharing add inspired you to do the same. The truth was you've had your secrets and wanted to keep them to yourself.
"Well, you're a bad influence," you teased. You always joked to try and lighten the mood but always got scolded for it seriousness the others to talk cramps your style. You are lucky to be alive you knew that you didn't need the others to telling you out your areas you could do that enough on your own.
She smiled sadly as she allowed you access into the school. She knew there was no point in scolding you, you never listen to her advice. You may be younger but you're not a child and like to make it evident every time the two tried the parent you. She had her own child to worry about and Cordelia the girls- even if they are most of them are adults themselves.
"Should I avoid her or get it over with," you asked.
"Best get over with." She remained distant and you made no attempt to get closer. When you turned to leave, Ally called out your name. In acknowledgement, you turned around to face her.
She pulled you into a suffocating hug. "Don't ever do that again."
"Okay."
"You scared the shit out of us."
"I'm sorry."
You knew this is not how she normally reacted, but she's had hours to calm down. Your journey to Cordelia's office lasted an eternity.
You knocked on the door waiting to be let in. The door opens Cordelia looking down at you blank way. She opens the door wider, allowing you to move inside in her office. You shuffle inside and station yourself in the middle of the room. She moved passed a seating area to a desk. You knew you were in for it. She only ever used the desk for formal meetings or for serious occasions when someone's trouble.
She asked you to take a seat. You settled in the armchair across from her desk, the seat wasn't comfortable from lack of use. A part of you was praying for a similar interrogation as Ally's two days prior.
Their rooms air was stiff. The curtain drawn shut blocking the morning light from entering the room. The fluorescent light flickered every now and again causing you more tension. You watched Cordelia organize herself, fighting every urge to snap are you, calling you reckless, stupid and other words you'd need a thesaurus for. You were surprised to she was more concerned one seeing as it's Ally's trouble a mess to begin with. Ally was concerned but hold it back due to the scolding she knew you're going to get from your Supreme.
The woman didn't they speak nor did she let you. A part of you wished you never entered the room. Delaying it and wrapping your head around the situation may have benefited you in the long run. So, you would have told her the truth, revealing your findings. Not that it wasn't too late now but you were into too deep.
The woman stared you down, "Why did you do it Y/n?"
"I don't know."
"That's not a good enough answer."
"Yeah yeah."
"Y/n, I'm being serious."
"I know"
"Then why aren't you listening to me?"
"I am."
"Then why did you do it?"
"I said I don't know."
"You're leaving me no choice-"
"What are you going to do?" Cordelia stood and headed over to one of the bookcases in the room. "Cordelia? What are you going to do?"
"I forbid you from leaving the school grounds-"
"You're grounding me?" you laughed. "You serious?"
"You clearly can't be trusted to left to your own regards." Cordelia scanned the bookcase before pulling out a spellbook. "It's for your own safety."
"Safety? Fuck that, you're trying to take away my freedom. Who do you think you are?!"
"I'M THE FUCKING SUPREME!"
She flipped open the book, searching for the corrected page. She wasn't planning on giving you the choice. If you weren't going to do it willingly, she'd force you to stay. You caught on to her plan and tore the book from her grasp.
"IS THIS YOUR WAY OF SHOWING POWER OVER ME, HUH?" You yelled. "I WON'T LET YOU CONTROL ME AND YOU SURE AS HELL AIN'T TRAPPING ME HERE!"
"Y/N, YOU HAVE NO SAY IN THIS!"
"I HAVE VERY SAY IN THIS. IT'S MY LIFE!" you stumbled back to the door. "You know what? I'm done. I'm done with this-"
"Y/n-" Cordelia grabbed you by your wrist stopping you. She tried to use her powers to find out anything about you or why your acting like this. Anything to justify why you did what you did, but she got nothing. You were blank.
"I'm done with this Cordelia."
The door opened revealing a concerned Ally. You yanked yourself free and exited the room as soon as possible, brushing shoulders with Ally.
"What did you say to her?"
"Make sure she doesn't do anything stupid." Ally did a once over the blonde before leaving her to check on you.
Ally found you on your way back to your car.
"Y/n!" She called out your name. "Y/n!"
"What do you want?"
"Don't talk to me like that, I'm not the one you're mad at."
"Sorry. Can I go now, or are you trying to trap me here too?"
"Is that what she said?"
"Was even planning on cursing me to this place."
You turn around and opened your car door.
"Where are you going?"
"The store," you said before hopping into the driver's side. "And don't you worry, I plan on coming back, my stuffs here." You needed to get out of here before Cordelia could trap you to the place. Ally found your last sentence odd, of course, you'd be back, this was only a fight, right? You hadn't called off things between them.
"I'll talk to her for you. Try and come up with a common ground."
"There is no common ground, Ally. She wants me to be her prisoner."
"It's not like that-"
"Could have fooled me." You slammed the door shut. You had a feeling Cordelia was watching from the window. Her office faced the street.
Ally stormed through the school all the way to Cordelia's office. She flung the door open.
"You threatened to trap her here?!" Ally lashed out, "What on earth possessed you to think that was a smart decision?"
"I told you to look after-"
"You have no right to tell me what to do. I am not a witch, you have no status over me and even if you did, what gives you the right?"
"Ally, she's reckless-"
"So?"
"She could have been killed last night. People are after you Ally and she waltzed into the lion's den."
"That doesn't give you the right to trap her here. She isn't your slave, she's your girlfriend, treat her like it."
"Ally-"
"No, I'm not finished. Now do agree she should be monitored after... what she did. Yes, but don't bound her here."
"You're right."
Ally knew what Cordelia wanted to do was wrong but her sticking up for you wasn't purely selfless. Ally needed your freedom so you could take Oz out places he needed to go. Ally being caught up in this mess couldn't go out without being heckled and her other girlfriend is too busy with her supreme status and upkeeping the coven to chauffeur Ally's son around. She could have gotten one of the girls to do it but that was a worst-case scenario.
Everything had gotten back to normal besides all of you searching for the 'unknown' sender. Cordelia apologized and the two agreed someone had to be with you at all times (except while using the bathroom), it didn't matter who it was as long as it was someone in the school. You had the school hours (when you didn't have to teach) off from being monitored because you were helping Oz with his schoolwork. Oz had been kept at home for the week while the adults thought through what they were going to do to keep him from knowing. You were tasked with keeping him ahead of his studies. You were thankful he was still young making the work easier to relearn and teach.
He questioned why he was being kept from school but wasn't complaining besides the fact that he can't see his friends. He'd been allowed to stay with some of them after Cordelia worked her 'charm' in the form of magic on the parents to ensure they'd not mention anything. She rarely used her power of 'persuasion' very often but after both your and Oz's begging she couldn't refuse. After Ally's reputation was guaranteed to be protected, she had no reason to refuse.
Due to the increased number of hours spent together, you decided to surprise him with the Nintendo switch he wanted. You had no place to store it in your office until you set it up so you hid it behind your mountain of shoe boxes in your shared wardrobe.
Alone in your shared walk-in wardrobe, you knelt, going through the belongings you'd stolen from your search.
Within the last five days you managed to find a spot in time where you could sneak the stolen belonging inside. Now, you stored them in an old shoebox that came with your most commonly worn pair of shoes.
Your mind thought back to the note, Happy Anniversary. How could they know?
You were on edge the whole time, maybe you should have told your girlfriends your findings. Regardless you chose to leave them unaware and in turn, must suffer for your stupidity.
You hadn't noticed the others come into the bedroom nor did they notice your presence in the wardrobe.
"You need to talk to her about it."
"I know you said that last time."
"And you haven't spoken about it since."
"It's really not the time Ally."
"It's never the-"
"More now than ever. You're under threat, Ally, what if they come after us too? They know about Y/n. They may even have footage of her sneaking about because she stupidity went out-" She kept revving on about the whole thing they got caught up in. You had yet to catch on to what they were talking about.
You put the blanket back in the box and tucked the shoebox back into your collection of shoes. Making sure the box covered the gift you got for Ally's son. You crept towards the entrances of the wardrobe.
"It's too late for me Ally. End of discussion." What on earth were they talking about? Too late for her, oh god is she getting replaced? No, it's too soon. "I sent the council to check out the address Y/n gave me, or should I say the real address."
"She gave you the wrong address?"
Cordelia nodded, "it wasn't a simple mistake with the number, the street doesn't exist."
Shit, she figured out it was a fake street. Of course you did, you should have done a better job. You needed to get out of here and figure out your next move before they figured out what else you're hiding. You teleported out of the room dashing down to your office where you're meant to be.
"What are you suggesting? That she's the one behind this?"
"You said it yourself earlier, I don't really know her anymore."
"She's been with us for almost two years-"
"Enough time to study someone and send info back."
"She didn't know about Ivy-"
"Do you know where she was in 2016?"
"No."
"Because she never talks about her past."
"You think she was in Michigan?"
"It's not unlikely."
"She would never-"
"But what if she is- All I'm saying is be careful. No one would dash off that quickly unless they had something to hide."
"What do we do once we find out?"
"Act accordingly."
"If you're wrong, you owe her an apology." Cordelia insisted she wasn't wrong but agreed nevertheless. "Couldn't you just read her mind or something?"
"Use the sight? I generally block off using my power, I have tried it a couple of times on her but she's barricaded her memories."
"When did you use it?"
"Most recently after she returned from 'her trip'." Her trip referred to the five days earlier. "I also tried when she was too stubborn to tell us about her 'episodes'. I thought when she was distressed would lower the wall but it was stronger."
It wasn't until the next day when Cordelia found out the building actually was. She called Ally immediately.
"You're saying she's a witch hunter? But she's a witch."
"I can't explain that myself, but she refused to tell us this when she knew who they were."
"Does she know that that's the company that-"
"My ex worked for? Probably. Hell, she's probably one of his side chicks."
"I doubt that-" You had never mentioned or shown interest in men before. Cordelia would most likely explain that away as you were keeping it away from them which Ally would claim was ridiculous.
"Why are you supporting her?"
"Why aren't you? She's shown nothing up until now that would suggest that she'd associate herself with witch hunters. They probably have dirt on her."
Cordelia rolled her eyes.
"I'm willing to give the benefit of the doubt-"
"It's not yours to give. You aren't the only one at threat anymore. Ally my girls are in danger-"
"Including Y/n."
"She's not one of us anymore-"
"We haven't confirmed she's done anything-" Ally tried to reason. "She isn't your ex, stop painting her out to be. At least wait until she gets back to explain herself."
You were out with Oz. You had taken him to the park for psychical activity and to get him out of the school. Mainly it was an excuse for you to get away from school, you found the place to crowded with the constant eyes on you. An escape sounded nice and Oz didn't complain. You may have had to offer him a comic book to seal the deal. He would have gone out anyway but the extra incentive was nice.
Ally ended the phone call leaving Cordelia to her own thoughts.
Cordelia stormed down to your office. If you had anything, you'd hid it in your own space, she thought. She shredded the bookcase, flipping books to see if you hid any secrets within the pages. She flung open draws and flicked through files, but nothing showed up pinning you as the culprit. A couple of students in passing watched her tear down your medical posters and swipe the contents of the contents on your desk to the floor. When she caught them she straightened up her act before saying, "Shouldn't you all be in class?" They scampered off soon after.
She thought about other places you could hide something. What about in plain sight? Her eyes lit up, the bedroom. Nothing in the main section or the ensuite. The last place she had to check was the cupboard. The school would need a good cleaning after she was done searching. She hadn't bothered to tidy as she went, set on you being in the wrong so it wouldn't matter.
She was more careful with the wardrobe as she didn't want to wreak any of her or Ally's more expensive clothing. She pulled out the collection of shoeboxes, finding a hidden red and white box. She pushed the box aside hoping the box would be what she sort instead finding a game console. She rose her brow, why was it hidden away in the closet. Maybe you hid the contents inside the box? The box hadn't been opened yet but she was convinced you'd hidden something inside. There were only the console and its extra contents. There were some games hidden behind it and a little tag addressed to Oz written in your handwriting. You bought the boy a game console? You really spoiled him.
"Maybe I'm wrong," she thought aloud as she put all the contents back where she found it.
She went to place the shoes back in front of the box when she noticed a shoebox that shouldn't have been kept. They were to your casual pair of shoes which you never but back in their box. She always had to tell you to place them somewhere where out of the way so she wouldn't trip on them.
She slowly opened the box, "A blanket?" She removed a small knitted blanket from the box to see two rings and some other trinkets. Why did you have these hidden away? Cordelia held the blanket up, allowing it to unfold. She noticed the lavender stitching in the lower corner of the white blanket. She flipped it over revealing the name on it, "Odelia?" she questioned. She raked her brain around the name, the only thing that came to mind was how similar it was to her own. Maybe it was intentional? She assumed it wasn't your blanket, it was two pristine. Was it meant for someone? A child perhaps? "The child," she muttered. The day you were in Oz's room, you sounded like you were speaking to a child. Was that her? Or was Cordelia getting it wrong? She couldn't get much information off the blanket other than it had been used by a child with the last seven years. She rested the blanket on her lap, hoping another item would give her the clue she needed.
She'd gotten you all wrong, you were hiding something but she no longer thought you worked for the witch hunters. Maybe they threatened you or a loved one? She pulled out the pair of rings.
A vision flashed before her eyes. She got a first-person perspective of someone driving in a car. The person chuckled in response to something she heard on the Bluetooth speaker of her car. You're current car.
"Baby~" The woman whined, "I swear your gonna love it."
"This better not be like your last surprise," a voice from the speaker call said. The voice was distorted due to being on the phone, but it was undeniably you. "I still can't go to that park without reliving it."
"Stop being dramatic." The more Cordelia thought she recognised the other woman's voice too. "I dropped Lia at my sister's place-"
"So, we could have some good old fashion alone time~" you purred.
"You wish," the woman laughed. "When do you get off?"
"5. Just in time to catch up."
"On some sleep maybe, how long was your shift?"
"It wasn't that long-"
"But your-"
"Don't get started on this-" You're what? Why did you cut her off, Cordelia thought.
"You need to find a better job."
"I will just give me some time," you said. "I'm thinking of trying to get a job at Miss Robichaux's. I could teach magic there or something."
"You should." The woman encouraged. "God, I miss that place."
"I know. Maybe you can visit me sometime if I work there."
"I'll probably have to pry you out of there too. Doesn't that, uh~ what's her name, she works there."
"Wow, helpful."
"Shut up, the one you were infatuated with, the one that you only settled for me cuz she was straight-"
"I didn't settle for you-"
"Yes, you did. Don't worry I don't care. But if she does swing our way you better not scamper off."
"I wouldn't-"
"All I'm saying is tell me first, I'm open-"
"For a threesome," you said. "You can't even remember her name."
"I don't need to," she said. "I'll learn it again if I ever met her again."
"Why would you meet her?"
"When I visit you at your new job."
"I haven't even applied yet." The woman turned her car right on an interaction. "So, what's the surprise?" The woman chuckled.
A van ran the red light and was coming straight for her car. She swore and tried to swerve out of the way.
"Amber?"
Her vision faded to black.
"Amber!"
Cordelia gasped. Your friend from high school, Amber. Oh god, no wonder you never talked about her. That can't be all, the car was fine now, you wouldn't keep the car your friend died- wait, Cordelia looked at the rings, you married her. She was your wife. You would have mentioned something like that to her, right?
A knock at the door interrupted her thought process.
"Ms Cordelia?" A girl burst into the bedroom.
Cordelia dropped the belongings and rushed over to the door.
"There's been a crash."
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andieperrie18 · 5 years
Text
PRIESTESS part 1(Twilight Fan shot)
PRIEST X TWILIGHT
So here it is people, the moment you've all bee waiting for!
STARRING MAISIE WILLIAMS AS Y/N L/N
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Forks didn’t receive many new people as it was pretty rare for the town to have new neighbors as it is pretty much a paper town, to be honest. And the most recent person who moved in town was the town’s chief’s daughter, Bella Swan-Cullen. And she’s been living by the said town for 2 years and a half now with her husband’s family and her child.
But two years after her peace with the Volturi, something had occurred. A slaughter had occurred in the town, a family was found dead and emptied-gut by the time the police arrived. The Cullen’s and the two packs in town were horrified by the news and had been trying to work together to find the root of this genocide. The only thing was clear, everybody that would be retrieved from every crime saw was familiar to the whole bite on the neck of the dismembered bodies.
The town could only pray for their safety as it would occur twice a month. But the Cullen’s have gotten a glimpse of the abominations that have been causing their town damnation. They’ve never seen a grotesque creature in their life. The eldest adoptive child of the said family manage to pass on the imagery to the two-pack and even if they were fearless, it all crumbled from the moment they saw blasphemy of an animal if one could even call it that.
The horror continued for a while and the youngest vampire for the Cullen’s feared for her father’s life as the said monsters strike random victims as they only live to feed. They’re only defense was the sun. But as the months pass by, it wasn’t enough. Until she came to town.
She went by the name, Y/n. The said young woman had recently bought a house in Forks near Chief Swan lived. The police officer described her as a meek, minimalistic and extremely religious girl. But not the crazy religious type that would spout countless sermons or give religious advice that would encourage anyone to serve the supreme being.
“Thank you for accompanying me here Chief. You’ve been a big help to me after my move here.”
Charlie Swan had taken Y/n to the local department store as he found her out of her porch while on his way to his car to make daily rounds since the occurrence of the murders.
“Well, I’m glad I could help. It’s kind of unusual actually for this town to get a new addition since you’ve heard about the ongoing activities here.” He was curious about her sudden appearance in the said town after the said occurrence of murders.
The frail-looking girl rubbed her arms in her self embrace, a cold puff of air exited her lips. The night was cold and silent. Charlie drove his car along the forest road and beside him sat a quiet Y/n peering against the car window. Watching.
She peered over the forest line. Even with the closed car window, she can hear. Every twitter of the crickets, the swaying of the leaves from midnight wind, and… the familiar screech.
“Stop the car.” Charlie was taken aback from his attention from the road. “What do you mean stop…”---“I SAID STOP THE CAR CHARLIE!!”
And he did. Her loud order punch the adrenaline on one of his feet to push the pedal. Y/n fumbled the lock on her side, clicking it open exposing her to the dark night. She turned to Charlie.
“Stay inside the car—",” W-what do you mean!? I can’t let you be out there! You’re aware of what is lurking around—“,” I know. That’s why I came here for.”
That stopped the officer from rambling. She was here for a reason, and it was clear she wasn’t just any suburban civilian who moved with him next door.
“Charlie, you have to trust me. Stay in the car until I say so. Do you understand?” he stared at the pure empathy on her eyes. What was out there was indeed vicious but he can’t really rush as it might cost him his life and he has a family waiting for him regardless of how it is now. And by the looks of it, Y/n also wants him to stay alive, and for the past week she felt a strong fatherly bond with her and she welcomed it with open arms. He needs to stay alive.
“Alright, I’ll stay. But please, come back.” Y/n smiled, his care made her heart swell. Even just for a minute, she felt a sense of hope from Charlie. Maybe it was because she grew up rather close to her father centuries ago.
A weak smile curled on her lips. “Lock your doors, turn your car off and stay low. Don’t come out of this car no matter what happens.” With a nod as a reply, she shut the door but not before, “And Pray.”
He watched her walk away from the car as she was now standing in the midst of upcoming terror. He feared for the unknown, he feared for the creature lurking in the night, he feared for his safety and mostly, he feared for Y/n if she would survive the night. So he prayed
Charlie eyed her back as she stood at the front of the car, still.
He muttered for salvation and safety. Then he heard it.
A menacingly low screech that no man could ever make. From the edge of the road, by the trees emerge a horror that could only be his worst nightmares. It walked out in all fours, its slick veiny grey skin glowed, it didn’t have eyeholes or eyes. Its black lipped-mouth is occupied open with four long sharp fangs with the upper ones being double the length.
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“Y/nnnnn!!” his voice shook as the said female didn’t look at him. “Stay in the Car Charlie!” she retorted before inching forward, no fear.
She continued to strut forward as the creature prowled to her direction. She then picked the same sound to her right where another of its kind emerge from the trees. Her right arm lifted to her chest as she flicked down, and parallel to the end of her fingertips emerge a blade neither on in the grasp on her hand but was stuck to her wrist and its length was twice the size of her hand.
“My Lord, today I ask for courage and strength. There are things that I face today. . .” with her other hand, she grabs the edge of her coat and pulled as it opened to reveal her a number of weapons. The weapon belt on her hip displayed a small book bag, two leather gun gases armed with two silver magnums. Pulling out one of the guns from the holster. The act had raised the threat causing them to make a mad dash towards her.
In Charlie’s human eyes, everything was a blur, everything happened too fast. But one thing for sure, she was faster than them. One moment one was lunging at her next it was headless and limbs splattered across the road like fresh roadkill. And the second laid hung headless with her blade pierced through its boney and skinny chest, blood dripping like waterfalls painting the dirt road gory red.
His attention was taken a load bang landed on her car roof and the same piercing screech was heard. The car shook as the creature smelled the delicious smell of live flesh and fear from inside. It tore the car’s siren lights and clawed its large two fingers hand on his roof piercing its way down.
Charlie screamed; it was coming for him. His fear to away his strength to even grab the nearest object to use a weapon. He watched its claws tore the roof open like paper and he got a closer look of its greedy horrifying face. It screeched at him while he screamed for help. Eyes closed and continued to scream as he felt its hand reach for him….but it never did. It screeched grew a small distance.
The first thing he saw was its hands between his eyes, his chest picked up a race but no movement came. He looked up to see Y/n holding its unmoving body. She then threw it by the floor as he jumped off the roof and knocked on the car window. It took the man inside the vehicle a minute to open the car. He watched sit at the passenger seat. He stares at them and their mangled bodies on the floor.
“They’ll be ashes by sunrise. I’m sorry ‘bout your car but we need to get out of here. I’ll explain everything.” With that, they drove off.
@lainternettuale @waves-of-flowers @whynot1213 @ravenmoore14
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iraacundus · 4 years
Text
STEALING
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doyoung x reader - ceo!au
he had nothing to gain from stealing the snowman, he just wanted to feel totally alive, a feeling he didn’t get much anymore, he didn’t expect his employee to catch him
words: 5.7k
based on this poem i read in school (back when we had that whoo) - ‘stealing’ by carol ann duffy’
“Mostly i’m so bored i could eat myself”
----
It was two am and a cold as hell January morning. You had been lying for hours, trying to sleep but there was a storm outside. It wasn’t that you were scared of storms particularly, just that the wind was blowing so fiercely it would have unsettled the bravest of souls.
It was two twenty-six am when the blizzard finally stopped, the calm in the storm. It was the quiet that was unsettling now, you still couldn’t sleep. After tossing from side to side you decided to peak and see what damage the storm had done to the garden outside. You tugged part of your blinds apart ever so slightly and stared into the street where the snow looked perfect somehow. The blizzard had covered the footprints of anyone who had previously walked by. It had made the snowman that the kid from next door had made look just that little bit fatter, which was a comforting sight.
Your eyes snapped open once again at eight forty-six am, even though you were not quite sure when they had shut. You stood up and went to look out of your blinds again. You opened them mindlessly only to be taken aback. The slightly fatter snowman that had been there only hours before had disappeared. There was no sign of melting, it was much too cold, it just ceased to exist in the location it once had. Only a track in the snow was left. The only explanation that came to your mind was that someone had dragged the snowman away. You thought this to be a particularly strange occurrence. Because it was a strange occurrence. Somehow it didn’t stay in your brain long enough for you to care though.
You trudged through the snow in your boots all the way to the underground train station. The storm had been loud but there still wasn’t enough snow to merit a day off from work. Your headphones blared music loudly enough to drown out the sounds of the world around you so that when you took a seat down on the train you failed to notice the snowman thief, partly because he didn’t look like one. Mostly because you didn’t know what a snowman thief looked like. Partly because in real life people like him didn’t frequent trains. But one-hundred percent because you hadn’t seen the theft so how would you have known.
Work was work it dragged by, meeting after meeting. The only excitement in your day was when CEO Kim came to give you the sales files personally. He had never spoken a word to you on a non-work issue and he always had a sort of forced smile upon his face. Yet you still had the most massive crush on him. He was undeniably one of the best looking people you had ever seen... but that wasn't it. It wasn’t what drew you to him. He just did everything so carefully, like his life was controlled and like he had a purpose. It sounded strange but you just were enthralled by Doyoung’s sense of purpose. Maybe it was because it was something you had never had yourself.
“The spending needs to go down, current marketing costs are just unsustainable,” Doyoung summed up for you. You nodded, thanking him for the papers. You just had to make the full report and then, as always, you could leave for the day. But it turned out the marketing problem was huge, just as Mr Kim had said and by the time you had made it home it was ten forty-one pm. The kids from your apartment building had made a few new snowmen. Three to be exact. One was fat and short, the other tall and wobbly and the third seemed almost perfect. The smoothness of the snow all balled up was almost mesmerising to look at - so satisfying. However, you didn’t stop to gaze for long. It was just a snowman after all.
By the time you had made coffee, eaten what little leftovers you could find and showered it was nearing midnight. You took one last peek out your blinds to check there wasn’t another storm coming. You never trusted just the weather app. When you gazed out you saw no signs of a storm in the freezing air, however, there did seem to be a man in front of your house wearing a blue bobble hat. And that man did appear to be dragging the perfect one of the three snowmen towards the street.
You pulled harshly on your blind cable, pulling them upwards, allowing you to press the button and swing your window open to get a better look. You stuck your head out but you still couldn’t quite see the mans face. Fortunately, due to the fact he was lugging a large snowman, you reckoned his pace wasn't that quick. This allowed you time to throw a coat and wellies on before running down the back staircase and out of the front door almost tripping over your own feet. You hadn't cared much about the snowman before, but now witnessing the theft you felt oddly aggrieved by it.
You hurtled over to the man and stopped right in front of where he had taken a pause to check his phone for the time. This slight pause meant he had missed your headlong dash across the pristine white lawn.
“What the actual fuck are you doing?” you asked him not so politely, you didn’t take kindly to people who stole from children, even if it was just snow you had decided. You crossed your arms and made your best attempt at a reproachful look. One that the guy didn't even see.
“I’m taking this snowman,’ the guy replied without even looking up from behind the stolen object. He said it as if stealing a snowman at midnight was a perfectly fine thing to do. Which for the record it was not.
“That’s.. like seriously what the?” was all you managed to say back. You were not really sure how to deal with this situation but you really wanted to understand what the actual hell was going on. You wanted to say you were defending the kids but really it was just the most exciting thing that you had seen happen all year.
You stared at the snowman until you suddenly saw the man look up from his phone and look you dead in the eyes. Upon seeing his face you expected panic of some sort or even embarrassment followed by a sudden hasty explanation but his eyes just seemed blank. You had also expected some college or high school kid out on a dare but instead, you saw CEO Kim staring back at you. With eyes as dead as ever yet right at that moment, you could have sworn they had a small spark in them despite the lack of soul.
You were at a loss for what to do. On the one hand, you just had to know what was going on, you were so invested at this point. On the other hand, you didn’t feel like interrogating your boos on his rather interesting free time activities. It almost stopped you from saying something, you almost dashed back inside. They always say curiosity killed the cat. Still, you just had to find out. And defend the children of course.
“Why would you steal snow?” was the first question you asked him, quickly followed by, “Do enjoy the pain of children?” and then “what's wrong with you” all in succession as if you couldn’t decide what you wanted to know first.
“I’m bored.” was all he said. No one spoke for a few seconds. When you managed to talk yourself into looking him back in the eye you noticed the wild spark had gone. The purposeful mundane had returned to Kim Doyoung’s face and he honestly looked like a ghost. You suddenly realised how sad the man you saw every day really looked. It didn’t stop curiosity though, you needed a better answer.
“Most bored people like watch a movie or something.” you pointed out.
“And I steal worthless objects.” Kim Doyoung retorted. He had let go of the snowman but he didn’t leave or say anything else. He just continued to stare you down, only moving to blink and only blinking very occasionally. The silence was once again unsettling and the cold was really starting to get to you.
“Don’t steal from kids it's really not very nice,”
“I am not here claiming to be a model citizen,” he replied. He then said nothing more. You knew he probably never would so you turned on your heels and walked away, hoping he wouldn’t fire you tomorrow.
When you pulled the blind in your window down, you glanced out to see if he was still there, but the only thing left was footprints in the snow - he had taken himself back home and the snowman with him.
************************
When you sat down at work, to say you were nervous would have been a gross understatement. Even the simple sound of a stapler set you on edge. You were kicking yourself for confronting Mr Kim last night in such an extreme way. The apartment building you lived in was kind of pricey and finding any accommodation you could afford was difficult so you really couldn’t afford to lose your job.
So when you heard the footsteps coming towards you, the footsteps of whoever would deliver the key report information that day, you were praying to any god that it wasn’t CEO Kim, you also were praying that you didn’t get called to his office. When the footsteps stopped you didn’t dare look up to see who it was. It was only when the person cleared their throat you managed to drag your eyes up to look at them.
You had never been a particularly lucky person and that luck certainly didn’t seem to be starting today for when you looked up the dull eyes of Mr Kim looked right back at you. At this point all you could do not to run away was to repeat please don’t fire me over and over in your brain. Unfortunately, you came to the realisations that one or two of your please don’t fire me’s must have been said aloud as Mr Kim gave you a rather confused look.
“Why would I fire you, what you do or say in your free time is up to you, just as what I choose to do in my free time is up to me.” You had no clue what to reply to that so you settled for staring blankly at your shoes. “Anyhow, the marketing strategy seems to have improved slightly but it still needs work to fix the deficit. His face remained emotionless before he turned and walked away.
He was the strangest person you had ever encountered and you would have given all the money in the world to know what he was thinking and why he acted the way that he did but for that moment you were mostly satisfied with the fact that he hadn’t fired you. You started working on the report right away. Because while Mr Kim said what you did outside of work didn’t matter, you knew your work performance certainly did. He was a notoriously harsh man.
*****************************
The next time you saw him out of work was almost two weeks later. You had been out at a bar with your friends. It was one thirty-six as you strolled through the cold night air back towards your apartment. You were lost in thought until you saw someone approaching you in the opposite direction.
It was CEO Kim, yet this time he wasn’t dragging a snowman with him. Instead, in his arms, he had Shakespeare’s head. Not the real one, that was long rotted away buried deep under the earth, but a statue. Stealing a snowman that was one thing, the snow didn’t really belong to anyone you supposed. But this statue, you didn’t know where he got it from but it must have been acquired from an art gallery of sorts. To you that was a whole different ballgame, that wasn’t just messing around that was actual theft.
You didn’t know what to say to him when he stopped in front of you, his dull, lifeless eyes once again staring at you. The fact he hadn’t fired you earlier seemed to give you a surge of confidence as you decided to once again confront him about his odd dealings.
“Why did you steal the head?” you asked him.
“Why are you out so late?” he countered.
“I went to see some friends, why did you steal the head?” you refused to relent.
“I’m bored,” he said. It was the exact same answer as before. He frowned slightly, as he looked down at the statue in his hands. “You don’t understand a word I’m saying do you?.”
“I feel like what you’re saying is pretty self-explanatory, I just think that if you are bored you should maybe go out with some mates or join a sports team or something, instead of committing crimes.” Doyoung shook his head in response.
“That’s what I mean, you don’t get it,” he replied. He started to continue walking but he motioned for you to follow. You knew you should have just headed on back to your apartment but for some reason, you felt compelled to follow him. So you did. You fell into step alongside him.
“You see,” he began, “all those things you're suggesting, playing sports hanging out with friends, I don’t find them fun, they become onerous for me.”
“Maybe you need better friends then,” you suggested to which he laughed at. You had never seen a positive emotion on his face until that very moment. Which you decided was a very sad thing. “Maybe I don’t understand, you are young, rich, successful, you have all the things you need for a happy life.”
“And yet I don’t even really feel alive.” He looked down at you, “apart from when I’m stealing.” And you saw it again, the gleam in his eye as he spoke of his crime and he smiled at his Shakespeare head. Except it wasn’t his.
“It's illegal though,” you said. Doyoung shrugged slightly.
“Not what I do. Last time I checked snow didn’t belong to anyone, this head,” he said lifting it up slightly, “I stole from the COO’s office, the COO of my own company, who I pay so I don’t feel bad.” That relieved you slightly. Until that point, you had been afraid the police would come out of nowhere and arrest you as an accomplice to his crime.
After a while, he stopped walking. You realised you had stopped in front of a rather fancy house. Doyoung nodded to it.
“Would you like to come in?” he asked politely, it reminded you more of who you had once perceived Doyoung to be – the overly polite and cautious, pedantic boss. You were in two minds, this could go very badly, he clearly didn’t have a lot of morals so there was a small chance he may murder you. But you were also enthralled by him, you just wanted to find out more. So murder was a chance you somehow were willing to make. You also had a strange feeling that if he had to murder someone he wouldn’t pick you.
“Can you hold it?” he asked, referencing the statue as he placed it into your arms. It was heavier than expected but you only had to deal with the weight for a few moments before he opened his front door. The inside of Doyoung’s house was pristine. It looked like a showhome, but you didn’t know what else you had expected.
He set the statue down on his kitchen table. Before turning back to you.
“Would you like a drink?” he asked, once again very politely, “I’m going to make some tea, it's so cold outside.” You nodded.
“Yes, thank you,” you added, suddenly feeling like your politeness needed to match his, your previous need to confront him was lost.
Now you were inside you became acutely aware of how cold you were, you took a seat at Doyoung’s kitchen table, shivering ever so slightly. He seemed to notice this because as the kettle boiled he opened a separate cupboard to reveal a blanket. He took a few steps over to you before draping it carefully over your shoulders. You smiled at him in thanks. The smile replaced words that were not forming in your mouth. You reckoned this was because you realised where you were.
It was almost two am and you were sitting in your bosses kitchen. The same boss who happened to be both a snowman and statue thief. Yet weirdly you weren’t uncomfortable. Chilly yes, unsettled no.
“Here’s your tea,” Doyoung said, causing you to be drawn away from your thoughts. He sat down opposite you, moving his chair out very carefully, as not to scratch the floor. Your eyes narrowed.
“That’s what I don’t get,” you told him.
“What is?”
“How you can be so precise – about when you give me files, about how you order the office, your house and so on. But yet you also go out and steal meaningless things, and cause mini havoc.”
Doyoung shook his head, his eyes changed from bored to almost angry but not quite angry. You weren’t sure what emotion it was, but it was more than just bored.
“They aren’t meaningless. I live a privileged life, I have money and a good job. But I have nothing else – I can’t seem to find things that make me happy. To be honest I almost don’t feel at all. But stealing, stealing causes a rush in my veins, it allows me to capture a moment of happiness that someone else created. The snowman was made by children playing having fun, Shakespeare wrote about the most powerful loves. I don’t have any of those things so I steal them.”
You didn’t say anything back. You didn’t think you could. What do you say to someone so numb? You didn’t know. So you both sat there in silence drinking your tea. It was two twenty-three am. Fuck it you thought, before standing up abruptly. Doyoung barely looked up but that wasn’t going to stop you. You walked around the table to him, grabbed his arm and pulled him up.
“What are you doing?” he deadpanned.
“teaching you how to feel alive again, how to have fun.” You said, “I don’t care how long it takes, we will find something that makes you feel better than stealing does.”
“Impossible,” he said.
It was the challenge of the impossible that lead you and Doyoung to the middle of the city park long after it had closed. It leads to both of you standing before a rather large tree which you intended to climb.
“You’re kidding,” he said. You shook your head adamantly.
“Nope, there’s a good view, and even if there’s not maybe you could steal a leaf or two.” To which he chuckled. You smiled to yourself. It was already going to plan. You pushed up off the ground, ignoring the fact you were in your tights only as high heels hadn’t been optimum for this task. You pushed past any small pain, climbing from branch to branch, only checking now and again to ensure Doyoung was following.
You stopped at one of the larger branches probably twenty feet of the ground, it wasn’t super high but it was enough to feel dangerous, enough to see most of the park around you. You shuffled along the branch so that Doyoung would be able to sit next to you. And he did.
“Better than stealing?” you asked. Doyoung shook his head. “So you are not at all scared of falling?” you were incredulous.
“I don’t feel scared no.”
“So I cut my hand for nothing,” you sighed looking down at where the rough bark had torn the palm of your hand slightly. Doyoung’s eyebrows furrowed together,
“We shouldn’t have done it if you were going to hurt yourself.”
“Not a big deal,” you shrugged, “But it hasn’t worked so on to the next thing.” You motioned for him to start climbing down which he did, you followed on behind. Once you reached the bottom you started to walk back towards the city. Doyoung walked behind you, saying nothing.
You suggested many things and did many activities with him across the night, basketball in an abandoned court, pushing him in a shopping trolly, getting ice cream at four am in winter. But none of these simple things, that were just a bit wild for you, seemed at all interesting to him. So when you saw the sun peak up from behind the old firehouse you began to concede.
“Maybe you are right,” you said to him, as you sat in front of his house, back where you started. “Maybe you can’t feel apart from when you are stealing.” You looked at him sadly, but he wasn’t looking at you. “Please just don’t steal from my house in your future endeavours,” you asked, before standing up and smoothing out your dress. “But I wish you every happiness, Mr Kim.” You put your hand over his reassuringly. And then you walked away, you somehow couldn’t bring yourself to look back. Even when you heard him shout your name. Or maybe it was just the wind.
When you got home it was six twelve am and you just fell into your bed. You hoped that Mr Kim would forgive you from your absence at work. And you never got a phone call, so he seemed to have let you off the hook. Then it was the weekend so you didn’t have to face work until Monday. You were fine with that.
********************************
Monday came and you started filling out forms and replying to emails much like always. The day was exactly the same as it had always been. At least it was up until the time you usually received the report information. It was four minutes past the set time and nobody had arrived with the sheets of paper. This had never occurred in the three years you had worked for the firm.
You checked your watch one last time before getting up from your desk. You walked out to the front desk, suddenly realising you had no clue where Doyoung’s office was.
“Excuse me,” you said to the man on the front desk, “could you possibly tell me where Mr Kim’s office is?”
“I’m afraid he’s busy,” the man replied.
“It’s just this is important, I have to complete the company report every day and nothing has been brought to my desk,” you explained.
“Could I have your name and job title?”
“Y/n y/l/n Office Coordinator.” The man looked up suddenly.
“Oh right yes, I was just about to send someone to find you, Mr Kim has asked to speak to you, his office is on the fourth floor, speak to his secretary there.” You thanked him before hurrying off. Maybe this was it, he had finally decided to fire you. Once again you thought back to your past actions, kicking yourself for scolding your boss, what a stupid thing to do you thought.
The lift dinged open and you stepped inside. There was no one else in the lift so you took the moment to bang your head against the wall. The lift was somehow faster than you had expected because before you realised the doors had opened again. You were still banging your head against the wall as Doyoung stared into the lift at you, standing in the doorway.
He didn’t say anything but turned around and walked back to his office, and like you had the night he stole the Shakespeare head, you followed behind him. Followed into his office which was just as clean and minimalistic as his house had been.
“Please, have a seat,” he said, pointing towards the rather avant-garde chair opposite his desk, “I’m sorry the chair is so odd, marketing said it would impress people, yet it tends to have a rather opposite effect.”
You smiled slightly sitting down into the chair, you could see why it was unpopular, it was ridiculously uncomfortable. You crossed your legs over but assumed you just ended up sitting as awkwardly as you felt.
“Here’s your information,” Doyoung said to you after a while. You turned your head to face him, slightly confused.
“You aren’t firing me?” Doyoung shook his head.
“I already told you I would only fire you based on what you do inside the workplace. What you do at four am is up to you.” At this you visibly relaxed, it felt like dejavu. He was right, you had already had this conversation before. Doyoung looked at you intensely without ever looking away.
“Why did you call me here then?”
“I have something for you, one second,” he reached down into one of his desk draws and pulled out a small box. He pushed it across the table, opening the top for you. Inside was a silver bracelet with small moon charms on it. As you reached out to take the box your fingers brushed against his lightly.
“Did you steal it?” was the first thing you asked, which may have been slightly rude but you had to know. You couldn’t accept a gift if it was stolen. Doyoung laughed. Not just a small smile or chuckle like before but an actual laugh. You were confused more than anything. You couldn’t think of anyone who had actually ever spoken of him laughing.
“No, I didn’t steal it. I went to a jeweller and I bought it for you.” He said with a hint of what you thought might be a blush.
“Why?” you asked. He chuckled again.
“I might as well have stolen it, I’m under interrogation.” It was your turn to go red.
“I’m sorry,” you lifted the bracelet out of the box, looking at it, ‘it’s really beautiful.” Doyoung’s shoulder’s seemed to relax slightly.
“To answer your question, it’s a thank you, for helping me.”
“Well trying to help you at least,’ you joked, “I couldn’t get you to feel, none of my thrill-seeking activities were exciting enough clearly.”
Doyoung shook his head, he seemed conflicted about what he was going to say next. He didn’t talk for a minute or two – you didn’t mind, the silence was calming, not uncomfortable.
“When I told you I didn’t feel, I talked about why I stole Shakespeare’s head, do you remember?” He asked, leaning back in his chair, running his hand through his hair. You nodded.
“You said that Shakespeare was able to write about the greatest of loves, the kind of feeling you don’t experience.” Doyoung nodded.
“I think I felt that feeling, the excited one also in retrospect I think I had fun, but the Romeo and Juliet feeling, that’s the one I noticed.” He stood up from his seat and walked round to you, placing his hand on yours as you had his two weeks earlier. “It sounds stupid because it’s so simple, but this, this is making me feel alive.”
You were conflicted because what he felt, you could see yourself feeling it too, but right now, you knew it wasn’t what he needed.
“it’s not healthy,” you said to him, “what makes you happy should never be one singular person.”
“I know, but I don’t think that’s it. You only need one person to do CPR to bring them back to life, that one person doesn’t become the only thing you have. So I wanted to thank you, for making me feel alive – in a way that doesn’t require theft.”
You squeezed his hand.
“Would you be my friend?” Doyoung asked you, chewing on his lip. You broke out into a smile.
“I would love to be your friend Doyoung.”
*********************
You were meant to meet Doyoung and a friend of yours Jaehyun for a night out. It was nine o six when you stood outside the bar when you got a phone call from Jaehyun.
“I have to babysit my niece, it’s a family emergency,” he explained, “give my apologies to Doyoung.” You told him you understood and that you hoped it went okay. By the time you hung up the phone you turned to see Doyoung standing behind you.
You had been hanging out a lot with Doyoung over the past three months, introducing him to your friends as he told you about things he had done of his own accord also. You gleamed when you saw him standing in front of you. He was looking good, you had to admit.
“Jae had to cancel,” you told him.
“Just us then,” he smiled, placing his arm around your back carefully as you both walked into the bar. It wasn’t particularly busy because you had insisted you went out on a Tuesday because the drinks were cheaper. Doyoung had tried to disagree but you told him that he didn’t pay his employee’s enough for them to pass up on cheaper drinks.
You took a seat as Doyoung went to get you a drink, you had insisted you paid for your own one but he was trying to make a point after you had complained you were underpaid.
He came back only moments later with your drinks and sat down next to you.
“I haven't hung out with just you in ages,” he commented.
“I brought you back to life, my work was done,” you said sipping from your drink.
“You may not be the only thing that makes me feel happy,” Doyoung began, putting his drink back on the table, “But you’re the person that makes me the happiest.” He smiled slightly. “I’m sorry if that’s inappropriate to say. You shook your head.
“I want you to be happy, that’s why I helped you in the first place.”
“That’s just because you’re a nice person,” he laughed slightly sadly, “you didn’t know me.”
“I talked to you almost every day for three years even if it was just about work reports, I like to think I did know you, even if there wasn’t a lot to know back then.” Doyoung looked away. From then on your conversation drifted back to more normal things, work, gossip, holiday plans.
“I’m probably just going to watch Netflix for a week, I’m saving up right now so I won’t go away but I still want a week off,” you said.
“I’ll miss you at work because you’re my best office coordinator of course,” he added. You fiddled with your bracelet, It was weirdly awkward, something you had never felt between you and Doyoung before, usually, you got on great but today there was some unspoken tension.
“You still wear it,” Doyoung said, flicking one of the charms on your bracelet with a smile. You nodded.
“It’s really pretty,”
“So are you… shit sorry, I don’t know… I just kinda said it sorry…” You giggled slightly looking down at your feet, then back up at Doyoung. His inner conflict somehow made him look cute. You found yourself drawn to his lips. He leaned over and pushed a strand of hair out of your eyes, that had fallen as you looked down and up so quickly. But he didn’t pull his hand away again, instead he looked you straight in the eye. This time though his eyes were bright not dull, the sparkled despite the low light levels. It was the most beautiful thing you thought you had ever witnessed.
“Can I kiss you?” He asked ever polite, for no matter how much he wanted to kiss you, he would never put your friendship in jeopardy. You nodded and leaned closer to him as he did to you until your lips caught together. He kissed you slowly, almost like it hurt, like he was scared, yet you didn’t know what of. You pulled away, still leaving your hand on his cheek.
“What’s wrong?” you asked him. He just shook his head and pulled you back close, kissing you passionately, his hands lost in your hair. Almost forgetting you were sat in the corner of a bar.
“I love you,” he mumbled between kisses causing you to stop moving altogether, you didn’t pull back, your lips just froze. Doyoung leaned away and stood up, taking your hand in his pulling you up with him. You both walked out of the bar, you still stunned to even say anything. When you stood outside in the slightly warmer air, you did realise that you were just metres away from where you stood the night Doyoung stole Shakespeare.
“I love you,” he said louder this time, “and you don’t have to love me back or say anything but I had to tell you. You may not be the only thing that makes me happy but you know you’re the most important and you make me feel the most alive. I have never felt more alive than when we kissed just now. You are the kindest, most fun person, the only person who helped me, who could help me. I was one step away from grand theft auto when I met you… but Shakespeare was the last thing I stole.”
“It wasn’t the last thing you stole,” you said finally, placing both of your arms around Doyoung bringing him into a hug, “because you stole my heart,” you looked up at him, pecking him on the lips. “I never thought I would end up loving someone who steals snowmen… but here we are,”
“Here we are,” Doyoung agreed before kissing you again and this time you could feel him smile as you kissed you, and both your eyes were shut but you didn’t need to look Doyoung in the eyes anymore to see that he wasn’t the only thief anymore, because you had stolen his heart to.
28 notes · View notes
thedefinitionofbts · 7 years
Text
Hiraeth (M)
Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x Reader
Genre: Soulmate/College Au, Light Angst, Fluff, Soft Smut
Words: 18K
Description: We are always yearning for someone, even if that person may not exist in this tangible realm. 
A/N: To whomever stumbles upon this piece of my heart, I sincerely hope you enjoy your stay :)
Warnings: Mildly Explicit Sexual Content
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 Soulmates.
Apparently everyone had one.
And everyone would have the name of their destined other half inscribed on the tender skin of their inner wrist when they turned 18.
Everyone…minus you.
It had remained the sole most exciting thing about turning 18 ever since you learned about the exhilarating phenomenon, something you had been looking forward to more than the pile of presents you knew you would be receiving on said day, more than the “surprise party” you knew your friends would be throwing you, and more than being the center of attention for a solid few hours like all the other birthdays you’ve experienced in your life so far.
It was supposed to be one of the few things in life that are guaranteed, analogous to a type of promise which does not revolve around uncertainty or a surefire plan that is carried out without fail, an occurrence not influenced by outside forces and has been written in the stars since the beginning of time. Its assurance is assumed, which is also why its ultimate letdown was able to spur so much damage.
Because on your 18th birthday, in place of the sparkling letters of the name you could practically feel on your tongue, painted in the vibrant colors of your most beautiful dreams, you are instead left with a black horizontal line-  dull, ominous, and utterly frightening.
To say you panicked right off the bat would not capture the exact sequence of events in its entirety. The truth was your mind had initially blanked, leaving your soul drained of any kind of emotion, but the more you looked at the inconceivable marking the more you became intimately aware of everything that was going wrong. The growing tension as you bit back your tears made your heart clench and writhe in the confining space barred by your ribcage. It was a sharp piercing sting that only existed in your mind, but who’s to say mental pain is inferior to physical? If anything, you’d much rather opt to take the latter.
“Maybe that is their name” Taehyung had suggested rather hopefully as he stared at the horizontal line tattooed to your wrist. “Like it’s pronounced dash or something,” He rubs his thumb over the soft marking, making a more than obvious attempt at consoling you.  
“Right…” You answer dully, trying not to let your disappointment push you towards taking it out on those around you. It wasn’t their fault, and you had no right to act like a shitty person. “Because some pair of parents out there decided to ruin their child’s life from the get go.”
“Maybe it’ll show up slowly,” Jimin says, also giving you a more than obvious sympathetic look. He had always sported those naturally pouty lips, but the concern dripping from his glossy eyes is enough to patch up part of your gaping wound at the very least.
“Yeah, if anything, they’ll probably find you” Taehyung adds encouragingly.
  When you were younger you had never concerned yourself over finding a lifelong partner, a significant other, or “missing half” as some people liked to call it. Heck, no one did because everyone knew that when the right time came, they’d find said person and fall in love to be united for eternity. It was the satisfaction guaranteed offer printed on every individual’s wrist upon adulthood.
 Of course, that was before you found out you’d end up being an anomaly.
You reach out and press the doorbell, sensing the icy air threaten to give you frostbite the second you remove your gloves. Taehyung and Jimin had invited you over to their apartment for a small get together after finals, celebrating the start of winter break and the end of yet another hard fought semester. You wait patiently for someone to open the door, snuggling deeper into the warm space created by the woolen scarf wrapped around your neck, observing the white crystalline flakes continue to fall from the sky, drifting and dancing in mid air before making their landing on solid surfaces tied to the earth-  the brick windowsill, the frozen railing of the stair steps, the untouched patches of snow on the lawn that was green some seasons ago.
“Y/N!” Jimin’s cheerful voice greets you in tandem with the heated air that escapes through the opened door.
“Hey Chim” You greet, as always, attempting to return a smile as bright and welcoming as his own.
“Come in, come in” Jimin chirps, opening the door wider and scrambling to find you a pair of fuzzy slippers to change into as you remove your snow covered boots.
“Y/N!!!” You hear the familiar baritone voice that can only be described as overly zealous, shoot from the kitchen. He was most likely cooking up a storm and quite literally too. You had heard about the last time he tried to bake a cake in which Jimin ended up calling the local fire department in fear that the whole apartment would be burned to ashes.  
“Hey Tae” You return the greeting. “Need some help there?” You inquire, waiting for the male to respond and hoping he knows what he’s doing this time or at least has taken extra precaution.
“Don’t worry.” Jimin reassures. “He’s been taking lessons from Seokjin.” Jimin whispers excitedly.
You laugh. Of course, Kim Seokjin, the resident chef in your group of friends, you can still practically taste the palatable flavors of his unforgettable Kimchi stew on the tip of your tongue. Oh how good that sounded right about now.
“Is he coming?” You question, wondering why Taehyung was cooking instead of the more experienced male.
“He was busy tonight. Said he was still working on finishing up his final thesis since it’s his last year.” Jimin responds.
You sigh as you plop down on their soft couch, looking around at their cozy little apartment that had basically become your second home ever since they moved out of the dorms.
It was no surprise that Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung were destined to be together from the day they were born. After 18 years of an inseparable friendship that blossomed from their days as innocent and unassuming childhood neighbors to hidden high school lovers, no one even battered an eyelash when they saw the characters of Taehyung’s name slowly appear in sparkling coral ink on Jimin’s dainty wrist, swirling in vine-like movements of cursive script and shimmering like the fiery tail of a majestic phoenix. Likewise, Jimin’s own name in celestial blue had emerged on the lightly sun-kissed underside of Taehyung’s upper forearm at exactly the same time, brushstrokes matching the tendrils of a graceful comet soaring across the dark midnight sky, putting the glow of distant stars to shame.
They were without a doubt the definition of soulmates, the perfect combination of opposing poles creating a balanced universe, the poster children of the system the world revolved around.
You didn’t even have to try to not be jealous of them or envy what they had. It’s akin to the type of comparison that’s not even assessable because the objects of comparison were on completely different levels. Like when you don’t get frustrated when someone who is way smarter scores higher than you on an exam or when you lose to someone you didn’t even have the credentials to put yourself up against in the first place. Losing to an obviously stronger opponent is not something to be angry over, just like resenting the world you had no control over was entirely useless. 
Why be bitter about something you would never even come close to having?
“So is it just the 3 of us tonight?” You query, as Jimin takes a seat across from you and offers you a drink. Having quaint little get-togethers with just a few of you closest friends had become the norm so to say. Because parties and getting dead drunk on weekends was less fun after all of you had passed the age of 21, something about taking the thrill of performing illegal acts away and being tired of the same old reckless routine.
“As far as I know” Jimin confirms, taking a sip of his beer.
“Actually, someone else is coming.” Taehyung corrects from the kitchen. He walks into the living room to place a bowl of chips on the coffee table.
“What? Who?” Jimin questions, eyes fixed on Taehyung, who was starting to look like a deer caught in the headlights.
“I-I..ugh, sort of invited J-Jungkook and his plus one” Taehyung swallows, waiting for the other male to respond to his revelation that you didn’t know why he was getting so nervous about.
“What the hell???” Jimin chokes on his drink making you jolt in your seat. “Jungkook as in Jeon Jungkook? Why the hell did you invite him? We barely know the guy anymore, and he clearly doesn’t share the same values as us.”
“H-he said he was tired of parties and wanted to try out more mature activities.” Taehyung explains. “And n-not in that sense, get that out of your head!” He adds quickly, face flushing a light shade of pink.
“Tae, he’s 2 years younger than all of us, he’s nowhere near mature.” Jimin argues.
“So, who is this we’re arguing over?” You butt in, unsure of what exactly was going on, or why inviting this Jungkook guy was such a big deal.
Jimin turns to you. “Someone you don’t want to get involved with” He advises. “But now that Tae has invited him over, I’m not sure you’ll be able to.” He flashes the younger male a scolding glare.
“A-actually, he…ugh… sort of invited himself” Taehyung reveals, scratching the back of his neck.  
“And you agreed to it?” Jimin throws Taehyung a flabbergasted expression.
“You know I have a soft spot for the guy, and he looked so lonely.”
“Tae, Jungkook is anything but lonely.” Jimin reminds.
“He’s just misunderstood,” Taehyung counters.  
“He changes girls more than he changes clothes!” Jimin retorts, a statement that makes you raise your eyebrow questioningly.
“Well technically that doesn’t say much because he likes to wear the same shirts over and over.” Taehyung fires back. “But I’m sorry ok, I can call him now and tell him something came up and-“
Jimin sighs. “It’s ok Tae, what’s done it done. Just think a little before agreeing to these things from now on.” He grabs a napkin to wipe his beer-spattered shirt.
So the part about Jungkook changing girls more than he changes clothes was evident the moment he stepped into the apartment with his arm around not one, but two gorgeous representations of the female species. The cocky look on his face screamed fuck boy, and you’d think those wouldn’t exist in a world where everyone had soulmates, but there were a good number of outliers who weren’t satisfied with one partner. The unfaithful, they were labeled, or simply those who wanted to “live young and free”.  
“So much for plus one” Jimin mutters under his breath like he knew this would happen.
“Kookie!” Taehyung voice echoes through the room as he opens the door wide enough for the three people attached at the hip to walk in the doorway…barely. It was like they felt it was so necessary to sustain physical contact that they couldn’t bear to be separated for the few seconds it would take to enter one by one.
“I told you to stop calling me that,” Jungkook says through gritted teeth, arms still wrapped around the two girls.  
You hear Taehyung murmur a soft sorry, and return to his smiling self.
“And who are these lovely ladies?” Taehyung proceeds to inquire, directing his attention to the females next to Jungkook. The ones who were eyeing Taehyung up and down and whispering god knows what into Jungkook’s ear.
“I’m Eunbi” The taller, more cold looking one replies.
“Eunha” The shorter one adds with a cute smile.
You and Jimin stare at the awkward scene splayed in front of you, namely Taehyung running out of extra slippers and having to offer his own to Jungkook while forced to be barefoot for the remainder of the night (his Christmas themed socks were pretty adorable if that made it any better), and then Jungkook and his girls walking over to squeeze on the now cramped space that is the couch you were sitting on.
Jungkook smiles and nods his head at Jimin as he makes eye contact with the older male, a grin that to any outsider would not look threatening in the least, but you knew there was some hidden strain in the otherwise casual greeting between the two, especially as you watched Jimin smile back with a beam that, for once, doesn’t reach his eyes.
Then comes the moment his pupils made their way over to land on you. A precarious lingering of distant contact that makes you feel oddly self-conscious and your heartbeat to accelerate from its normally steady pace because his cocky face falters almost unnoticeably, lips parting ever so slightly, and was that sparkle you saw in his previously cloudy iris or was that just your imagination?
“And who do we have here?” The words escape Jungkook’s lips in the form of a question directed at you. His expression had just as quickly reverted back to the way it was when he had entered the apartment.
“I’m Y/N,” You announce. “Friends. We’re friends.” You point at Jimin and Taehyung.
“Best friends” Taehyung corrects with a beam, he hastily slides over to join everyone in the living room
Jungkook ignores the emphasis made by Taehyung, most likely deeming it as unimportant. He proceeds to stare at you, eyeing the way you shifted uncomfortably next to Eunha as she pushes you towards the edge of the couch that was clearly not made for 4 people because you were practically morphing together with the armrest.
“Jungkook, your sweater is sooo soft” Eunbi purrs as she rubs his chest like she was petting a dog.
The smirk on Jungkook’s face makes Jimin cringe.
“I prefer his white button up” Eunha interjects. “You know, the one that’s kind of see through and shows off his…muscles.” A flirty smile spreads across her face.
“It’s too cold for that babe, but look forward to when the weather warms up.”
So you learn that Jungkook has been working out, or more like he announced the fact to everyone in the room, bragging about how much weight he’s able to lift now, in which Eunbi, Eunha -and you want to say Taehyung- all listened to with enthusiasm. Apparently he was a pretty scrawny kid back in high school, and now that he’s a freshman in college, he wanted to sport a new image, or in his own words, “get ripped”.
You’d call what the 6 of you were doing in the living room a “friendly conversation”, but honestly Jungkook was talking 99% of the time, and the other 1% just came in the form of awestruck gasps and one-word comments from the two other girls. 
“So, you guys hungry?” Taehyung interrupts just as Jungkook pauses to take a sip of beer. You can practically hear Jimin’s sigh of relief as he hops up from his seat.
“Starving” Jimin grunts, racing towards the kitchen and almost forgetting about you.“Oh, Y/N do you want to help me set up the table?”
You ears perk up at the sound of your name. “Yes!” You reply instantly, thanking god that he turned back for you. “I would love to.”
You don’t turn back to see if Jungkook notices how obviously happy you and Jimin were to get out of there, but you figure it shouldn’t matter, not when he still has Eunbi and Eunha to keep him company.
 ...
It wasn’t long before the food was plated and everyone was sitting down enjoying the meal. Taehyung was telling stories of how Seokjin was able to teach his formerly hopeless ass how to cook along with Jimin’s re-telling of the infamous he-almost-burned-down-the-apartment tale. Everyone was mesmerized as they listened to the two, laughing at how comedic their expressions were and admiring their unique personality dynamic. It was always times like these when you couldn’t help but sit back and appreciate how perfect Taehyung and Jimin were for each other, something so beautiful that you honestly wouldn’t believe if you hadn’t been seeing it with your own eyes for years.
“So Y/N, is this Seokjin guy your boyfriend?” Eunha suddenly asks, her voice snapping you out of whatever thoughts you were having.
“S-sorry?” You stutter, wondering how the hell she got that idea.
“Seokjin is Namjoon’s soulmate” Taehyung butts in before realizing he said the trigger word. “Ow” He mutters as Jimin pinches his thigh under the table.
“It’s fine, guys. I think I can handle it.” You assure them, still unsuccessful in your attempts to convince their overly worried and protective selves that you’ve gotten over the soulmate thing. It’s been years. You’ve moved on. “But yeah,” You turn back to Eunha. “Seokjin and Namjoon are a pair and we’re all just very good friends.”
She nods in understanding, or what seems like a polite gesture.
Jimin clears his throat moments later. “Taehyung has also prepared dessert,” He says, giving Taehyung a hurry-and-go-grab-the-cake look. “haven’t you Tae?”
Taehyung stares as Jimin confused for a millisecond before the realization hits him, and he glides back into the kitchen to bring out the pastry he had spend all day baking and decorating to perfection.
“So pretty~” Eunha coos, clapping her hands in delight as Taehyung makes his way back from the kitchen with his masterpiece.
“Waa~” Eunbi joins in, nudging Jungkook who seems to have spaced out. You’ve barely noticed that he’s been silent all throughout dinner, too focused on Taehyung and Jimin telling stories and feeding each other lovingly.
You can almost see the faint flush spread on Taehyung cheek as he admires his own creation proudly. He begins cutting into it, serving each guest a piece of the delicious treat until there is only on last piece of cake remaining, and neither you nor Jungkook have been served yet.
“Umm….” You can physically see Taehyung’s Adam’s apple bobble up and down as he gulps in nervousness, staring at the last piece like it was a time bomb about to explode.
“It’s fine, I’m feeling full anyways.” You quickly announce, flashing Taehyung a smile as natural as possible.
“B-b-but…” Taehyung’s eyes switch back and forth between you and Jungkook.
“Actually, I’m not really a fan of sweets.” Jungkook opens his mouth to voice for the first time since everyone began eating, every one turns to the young man who had been staring at you.
“Since when?” Eunbi bursts out. “You told me you loved sweets, and you always go back for seconds when it comes to dessert.” Her mouth hangs open as she gapes at Jungkook in disbelief. You turn and see that rosy pink flowers have blossomed on his formerly uncolored cheeks.
Taehyung quickly clears his throat. “Jimin and I will just share a slice.” He quickly says while pushing his own piece in front of you and serving Jungkook the last slice that had commenced this embarrassing sequence of events.
  …
 When Jungkook and his girls leave, Taehyung comes back into the living room and looks at you and Jimin uncomfortably.
“Tae, don’t feel bad. It’s his fault for bringing an extra person.” Jimin consoles.
“I’m just, gah, I shouldn’t have invited him.”
“He wasn’t that bad” You shrug, causing both Jimin and Taehyung to look at you in surprise.
“Y/N, don’t tell me you’ve fallen for him already” Jimin makes a mildly disgusted face.
You almost choke on the water you were sipping. “What? No, no, I’m just saying he seemed more considerate than you guys make him sound.”
There’s a pregnant pause in which you have a minor flashback of his cocky attitude when he had walked in and the 40 minutes of straight bragging he engaged in while you were all gathered in the living room.
“Ok, pretend I didn’t say anything.” You correct, making both Jimin and Taehyung laugh.
 …
  When winter break does finally arrive in burst of frigid wind and snow-speckled air, the university campus turns into a frost covered ghost town-previously bustling sidewalks and grassy lawns now entirely empty and void of life.
Finals were thankfully a thing of the past, albeit not so distant, but at least the end of the semester was allowing you to somewhat breathe with ease. But like every year, you’re hit with that strange hollow feeling that settles in your gut after weeks of overwhelming stress, like diving into cold water after hiking to the top of a mountain in the heat of midsummer or stepping off of a wild roller coaster after your body had already adjusted to being accelerated in a million different directions.
Standing in front of the library, you take a long look at the peaceful patches of untouched snow, the daylight waning under the cloudy, grey expanse and the bare trees rooted frozen in the serene environment- matching with the cool undertones of the white wintery realm that had been cast over this part of the world.
Jimin and Taehyung had both gone home to their families, and were most likely celebrating this joyous season happily with their parents, siblings, grandparents, and undoubtedly, each other. The thought almost makes you wish you had decided to go home this winter break, to be back in the company of your loving parents who would probably be more than happy to prepare all of your favorite foods and talk about the past school year and whatnot. But you stay firm in your decision to give yourself some time alone, some time to think and figure life out, or do whatever you didn’t really know exactly.
You just wanted to be alone for a bit.
Taking a deep breath you begin heading back to your studio apartment, pulling out your headphones and putting your favorite playlist on shuffle. These were the times you enjoyed the most, walking alone after a long day and getting lost in your favorite music as you cleared your mind of stress and only dwelled over pure emotion, sadness, nostalgia, acceptance, hope, or whatever your heart desired.    
Just as you were getting in the zone, a figure walking in the near distance catches your attention, not only because he was the only person around this abandoned area, but also because said person’s trajectory on the sidewalk would soon intersect with yours. You pull your headphones out as the dark figure almost bumps into you because he was mostly likely also lost in the music he was listening to-made apparent by his oblivious attitude towards the oncoming collision and the pair of headphones stuffed in his ears.
“Hey, watch it!” He begins to voice as he nearly doubles over while trying to avoid running straight into you. An annoyed scowl is plastered across his face, that is, until he sees who you are and the face of recognition washes over his distorted expression. “Y/N?” He murmurs in disbelief.
It was none other than Jeon Jungkook.
“H-Hey” You greet, casually, trying not to turn this into an awkward encounter or causing it to drag out into a full blown conversation. 
“You’re still on campus?” He inquires, pulling out both of his earpieces and tucking them away into his coat pocket.
“Yeah, I decided not to go home this year. I’m still working part time at the coffee shop downtown.” You throw in the last part just for kicks. It wasn’t a lie. It just wasn't the full-blown truth either because you could’ve easily taken work off like you did every year, but you figured you’d spare him the details. “You’re not either?” The words leak past your lips before you’re able to remind yourself that you didn’t want to start a conversation with him.
“I’m not really into family gatherings and the idea of going home” He replies, shrugging and letting out a warm huff of air, white vapor dispersing in trails of wispy smoke.
You nod, ignoring the note of curiosity over what he actually means by that. It was a conventional gesture between strangers who didn’t understand each other beyond the most superficial of levels, a sign that you were ready to end this interaction right then and there. “Well, I’ll-“ You were about to add see you around, but Jungkook cuts in before you could finish.
“It’s k-kind of late. I can walk you back to your dorm or apartment or wherever” He offers rather nervously, if you weren’t mistaken about the way his voice went a pitch higher on a few select words, namely late, I, walk, and apartment.
The prepubescent aura he’s radiating now makes you wonder how he’s able to attract so many girls. What happened to the cocky fuck boy impression that he initially gave off? Or the one Jimin and Taehyung keep insisting he possesses and that he himself had clearly demonstrated less than two days ago?
“Ummm, no that’s ok. I don’t live far from here anyways.” You smile, kindly rejecting his spur of the moment, or so you think, offer.
“Oh, o-ok, t-then” He scratches the back of his neck. “I guess I’ll, uh, see you around?”
“Yeah” You affirm before proceeding to walk in the direction you had been headed before the collision. You were about to go back to listening to music when some unspecified force temps you to turn around a check to see if Jungkook had left. To your surprise he’s still rooted in the same spot, seemingly just minding his own business until your eyes meet his and causes his expression to mimic that of a deer caught in the headlights.
You raise an eyebrow, wondering why the hell he hadn’t moved at all.  
“O-Oh, uhhhh…” Jungkook looks around the empty campus, clearly unsure of what to do with himself right then.  
“You alright there, buddy?” You shout back, wondering why he was acting so strange and waiting for him to finish whatever explanation he was probably cooking up in his head.  
“I-It’s just, I-I was about to walk in that direction too, and I didn’t want this to be like that awkward situation when you say goodbye to someone but end up walking in the same direction anyways.” The words come out almost slurred, like he was trying to spit them all out in one go. The faint flush of pastel pink is making its way back up his cheek as he makes his way towards you with a defeated sigh.
You let out a small laugh, not even knowing how to respond to this whole situation that was turning out to be more amusing than you expected. “Ok, how about you just walk with me until we end up parting ways.” You suggest, realizing that this situation was made even more awkward because the two of you were trying to avoid being awkward.
Jungkook chuckles nervously as he scratches the back of his neck.
The two of you continue walking for quite some time because you actually live further from campus than most people would consider walkable, but you enjoyed it, always relishing in your much needed periods of solitude. But now walking alongside Jungkook with no music to distract either of you, it wasn’t until the silence lingering in the air was beginning to feel so suffocating that you swallowed your social ineptitude and dipped your toe into more small talk.
“So what was that about you not liking the idea of going home?” You query as Jungkook’s previous response to the question you had asked makes its way back to the front of your mind. You hope that it doesn’t sound too personal or prying, but he could always just make up some meaningless response if he was uncomfortable with sharing his real thoughts, right?
You can almost feel Jungkook tense slightly at the sudden sound of your voice before relaxing once more. “I left my home when I was really young to attend a private academy in the city” Jungkook explains. “I was raised by my grandparents in my early years, then I moved in with my parents for a few years after that. I guess I’ve just never considered certain places to be my real home. They’re all kind of just…places.” The look in his eyes is sincere-almost telling of the vulnerability hidden behind his glassy pupils in a way that made your heart soften ever so slightly. The nervousness that had been interlaced in his voice before has left without a trace as well.
“I see…” Is all you can say, and you feel kind of shitty for the fairly cold response you’re giving him.
“What about you?”
“Hmm?” You turn to glance at him startled, not expecting the same question to be directed back at you. 
“I mean, why don’t you like going home?” He asks, explicitly wording the question he had previously implied.
“I-I…” You trail off, clearly remembering you had never mentioned anything about not liking to go home, distinctly recalling your intention of specifically avoiding the revelation of things you only said to yourself. It was impossible that Jungkook would know, and you almost convince yourself that he was probably just fishing, that he doesn’t actually know his question had hit a spot you had always chosen to avoid. The part about you that you don’t just reveal to anyone walking down the street or even your closest of friends.  
“Come on, you can’t possibly expect me to believe work is the only reason you’re not going home for the holidays can you?”
Oh, so he’s already trying to read in between the lines? You feel a bit of embarrassment mixed with irritancy sprout like little florets in your chest. “Well, I’ll have you know, I take my job pretty seriously.” You attempt to cover up that spot, glossing over it for the nth time in your life. It was all mechanic at this point. 
Jungkook looks skeptical, but doesn’t push the matter further, perhaps sensing your reluctance to continue on with the topic. The walk from that moment on turns into a relatively silent one, in which Jungkook doesn’t tell you how far he lives or even motions to head in a different direction even as the two of you close in on your apartment. The sky was already dark and the automatic streetlights had lit up just as the sun dipped below the distant horizon.
“You did this on purpose didn’t you?” You accuse with a hint of playfulness, stopping when you’re both in front of your apartment.
“I-I, ugh…” He’s searching for the words that can form the excuse he’s hoping you’ll believe, but ends up just shutting his mouth before he can make matters worse. 
“Thanks” You say anyways, deciding that he was probably just worried about your safety and really didn’t have any ulterior motives.
He scratches the back of his head, tucking his reddening face lower into his scarf.
“It was kind of on the way” He shrugs. “I-I guess I’ll see you around?”
“Yeah, see you” You wave at him one last time before walking up the steps to your apartment.
 …
 Going to work the next week felt nothing short of routine. Now that the crippling stress from classes wasn’t an issue any more, spending long shifts at the café didn’t sound as bad as it had the weeks leading up to midterms and ultimately finals. Since it was the holidays, business was moving at a snail’s pace, causing your boredom to compel you to turn your thoughts to a certain someone you’d rather not waste your time thinking about. But you had to admit he was kind of sweet for walking you home, despite the unconventional way in which the events actually transpired, and your short conversation with him surprisingly felt a lot more personal than most of the ones you’ve had with even the closest members of your family and friends.
Waving off your own daydreams, you attempt to steer your attention towards wiping the coffee stained table when the sound of the bell signaling the entrance of more customers startles you as the coincidence of seeing the person you were just thinking about unfolds in reality, making you nearly jump out of your own skin.
“Y/N, what a surprise” The familiar voice almost gives you a heart attack as you turn around to be faced with the person you already knew it was.
He wasn’t alone this time, bringing his friend who looked to be a few years older than him into the coffee shop.
“Y/N, Hoseok. Hoseok, Y/N” Jungkook runs through the brief introduction, after ordering at the counter and making his way over to you.  
Hoseok eyes you up and down, before nodding his head in approval. “Wow, Kook, your new girlfriend is gorgeous!”
“We haven’t gone out yet,” Jungkook quickly says, clearing his throat. “But what do you say we change that, babe?” He turns to you with a smug grin.
You’re caught off guard for a momentary lapse, wondering if the question was actually meant for someone else. But upon realizing that it was in fact directed towards you, you’re immediately appalled. His sudden change of personality had come as a shock. Was this what Jungkook was really like? Was he just hiding behind a façade the other day you two were alone? You were beginning to understand where Jimin and Taehyung were coming from with the way they had been so wary of the younger male. Jeon Jungkook was undoubtedly a cocky asshole, 100% purebred douchebag.
“Um, no thanks” You frown, turning your back and returning to counter to help make the orders.
You can hear Hoseok laughing in the background as you try to ignore the stunned expression that’s probably plastered on Jungkook’s face right then. Serves him right for playing games. Why was he acting like this again?
When their orders are made, you watch the two of them leave the shop, with Jungkook glancing back at you almost apologetically, but you convince yourself that it’s just your imagination.
...
The rest of the afternoon passes as per usual, with customers coming and going. At one point you get a call from your parents, wondering how you were doing and reminding you to take time to de-stress and to not overwork yourself because it was something you had the tendency to do. You can tell by the tone of their voices that they’re still a bit disappointed that you decided to stay on campus over break, but you’re grateful they’ve always respected your decisions even if it went against their wishes.
By the time your shift was over later in the day, you were glad there were no more surprises awaiting you …or so you thought because just as you were leaving the café, you see a certain Jeon Jungkook leisurely leaning against the wall outside.
You elect to ignore his presence and walk ahead.    
“Hey, Y/N, wait” You hear Jungkook call before running after you as you strolled past him.
“What do want, Jungkook? I don’t have time for this.” You ask in annoyance, ignoring the pleading look in his eyes and his fake apology that you can practically already hear.
“Listen, about what happened back there-“
“I have no interest in going out with you, so you can stop stalking me or whatever this is.” You interrupt sternly, knowing that if you agreed to his promiscuous antics you would end up being nothing but one of the million other nameless flower petals on his already crowded wall.
“I know it’s weird that I waited for you to get off work, but I just didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable if I had stayed in the shop…” He trails off.
Your walking comes to a halt as you register what he had just said. “You waited for me outside?” Your voice comes as a murmur. In temperatures this low?  
“W-well, I mean, I did go to the dance studio with Hoseok for 2 hours before coming back here.” He scratches the back of his neck.
That’s still 3 hours of shivering in the snow. “You dance?” You query instead, attempting to lightened the mood.
Jungkook chuckles. “What you have a thing for dancers?”
You frown at his pick up line.
“S-sorry” He lowers his head once again. “I’m just, I-I..” You see his body waver slightly, and his failed attempt to steady himself before you take notice. You have a hunch that something’s not right, and upon reaching up and feeling his forehead you become aware that he’s burning up.
“Jungkook you have a fever” You voice alarmed.
 ...
The rest of what happens comes as a blur, namely Jungkook flashing you a faint smile before collapsing against your body. Luckily your apartment was much closer to the café you worked at than the university. You don’t know where Jungkook lives, if he lives alone, or if any of those things passed as an excuse to take him to your place, but you didn’t have time to weigh out your limited options meticulously, not when he’s literally crushing you with the weight of his body.
He at least manages to remain half conscious while you support him for the ten minutes it takes to walk to your apartment; cause god knows it would’ve been impossible for you to carry him there.
You struggle to pull out your keys from your purse and swing the door open, but once you do manage to drag him into your room and throw him on you bed, you stand there and stare at his limp body for a good 5 minutes as he lies on top of your fluffy duvet, fully dressed in winter apparel. Wait, is it better to take off his clothes? At least his coat right?
You get around to removing his Timberland boots, his coat, and his beanie only to find that his clothes underneath were damp. Shit, they’re still sweaty from him dancing. Why didn’t he take a shower and get changed before leaving the studio?
The questions continue forming in your head as you cursed under your breathe, trying to calm your nerves as you slowly remove his coat, sweatshirt, and eventually the white t-shirt he was wearing underneath.
Please don’t wake up and get the wrong idea…
Ugh, why am I acting like this is a crime? I’m just doing what needs to be done.
Stop it, Y/N, calm yourself. You’re making this a bigger deal than it actually is.  
The internal monologue kept rolling as you stripped him down to his boxers, you blame it on your inherent habit of talking to yourself and overthinking. In a way it was a form of therapy, distracting your thoughts from the actions that your body was performing, and initially it worked, you had successfully convinced yourself that this was what any compassionate human being would do when presented with a sick person.
Nothing creepy or inappropriate or invasive.
But the minute your fingers come in contact with his heated skin-that was oh-so-freaking soft might you add, and your eyes landed on the gentle rising and fall of his chest as he breathes through marginally parted lips, you’re forced to swallow the saliva that has built up in your mouth. And it didn’t help that Jungkook’s abs looked more delicious than the tastiest of chocolates and the series of well-defined muscles on his chest, shoulder, and arms were making your mind go places it should most certainly not be allowed to go. Fucking hell.
He really wasn’t kidding about working out.
You’re able to finally breathe again after the deed of undressing him is done and Jungkook is wrapped tightly in your blanket, which will now probably smell like him for god knows how long you put off washing your sheets. He sleeps for a good 4 hours, in which you take the time to make some porridge, wash and dry his clothes, and change the dampened cloth you had placed on his forehead a good twenty times. You’re staring at the soft features of his face just as the slow fluttering of his eyelids startles you as he wakes up.
“W-wha…w-where?” He begins to murmur, barely having the energy to raise his head off the pillow and lazily look around the room. 
“You had a fever and passed out” You begin explaining, feeling a bit tired after going through such a physically- and mentally exhausting event. “I brought you here because it was the closest place-er, because I didn’t know what else to do…” You trail off, waiting for him to respond.
His pupils land on you and the moment they do, the most relaxing of smiles washes over his expression.
“Thanks” He half whispers.
“I just did what needed to be done.” You voice the same words you had said to yourself a couple of hours ago.
There’s a momentary pause as Jungkook slowly sits up, only to find that he was naked under the blanket. His surprised expression is quickly replaced by a coy smile as licks his lips and clears his throat. “I see you’ve washed my clothes.” He says, eyeing the folded laundry placed at the foot of the bed with a playful tone in his voice.
“Oh…yeah…” You voice hitches a little as a powerful heat radiates to your cheeks. Of course he would notice right away. “I also made some porridge.” You quickly add, changing the subject and rushing towards the kitchen so he wouldn’t catch how embarrassed you were.
Jungkook laughs silently as he watches you dash off. 
You could tell he was feeling much better as you watched him eat, seeing the color returning to his lips and checking that his body temperature had gone down.
“So about the way I acted back at the coffee shop…” Jungkook begins as he swallows the porridge and lets out a long exhale. “I didn’t mean to come off so-“
“Arrogant? Cocky?” You don’t know why you were interrupting him, but the words kind of just took matters into their own hands before your brain filter could give them a pass or fail.
He sighs. “Yeah. I’m just bad at this.” He hangs his head a little, avoiding direct eye contact as he stirs the contents in his bowl.
“So let me get this straight, you’re telling me you aren’t the smooth-talking player everyone thinks you are?” You half scoff, knowing this is probably just one of his little tricks to come off as innocent. You had seen the real him, or what you had thought to be the real him at least.
“Would you believe me if I told you that’s actually a result of practice?”
You raise your eyebrow. “Practice?”
“I’m not as smooth as everyone thinks,” He admits.
“Oh really?” You cock another brow.
“I thought it was obvious to you.”
You have a minor flashback to the time you had first questioned his social skills back when he almost ran you over the sidewalk a week ago. “Yeah, I’m just still trying to figure out who you really are. I mean, I obviously don’t really know you yet. ”
“To be honest no one really does…” He trails off, looking down at his hands.
“Not even your friends, or multiple girlfriends or whatever they are to you?”
“I see you’re a fan of monogamy.” He comments, avoiding having to answer your prior question.
“Yeah, you can put it that way.”
He laughs a little, shaking his head, and you think you can sense the look of disappointment that flashes across his features.
“Do you ever take into consideration how your soulmate would feel?” Your jaw clenches after the sentence escapes your lips. You don’t know why were you bringing this topic up, especially when you of all people should not have the right to talk about soulmates.
“Soulmates.” Jungkook scoffs, turning his head to face away from you.
“I’m assuming you haven’t found him or her yet, but when you do-“
“Look can we not talk about this?” Jungkook cuts in, voice interlaced with a bit of annoyance and perhaps even anger if you weren’t mistaken.
You flinch a little, an action that he notices and immediately regrets snapping at you. 
“I’m sorry.” His face softens as he turns back to you with apologetic puppy eyes.
“It’s fine. I shouldn’t be telling you how to live your life anyways.” You didn’t know what had possessed you to bring such a sensitive topic up. You and Jungkook barely knew each other and you were already getting into his personal business. Way to go, Y/N. You mentally scold yourself for getting carried away.
“It’s just…I’m not a fan of the whole soulmate thing.” He mutters, taking another bite of porridge.
Of course, that should’ve been obvious enough.  
“To be honest, I’m not either.” You admit. “I just…I don’t know. Forget I even brought it up.”
 …
 Winter break ended faster than you had anticipated, much to your powerless disappointment. It was a few days after the New Year had begun and classes were starting the very next Monday that you became conscious of just how swiftly time passes. You can’t say you were looking forward to going back to school, but at least you had a couple of classes you were looking forward to this semester.
Surprisingly, or maybe not so surprisingly, you didn’t see Jungkook after that fever incident when he thanked you one last time before leaving your apartment with clothes smelling like your laundry detergent. He had complimented the scent, but with someone as “bipolar” – the word you decided to refer to his multiple personalities as, as Jungkook, you couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or just fake nice. It had just become another addition to the hoard of other questions you had about him. Did he really want to be your friend or was he just trying to get in your pants? Was he a douche or was he some shy kid under the guise of an expert player? You didn’t know what to think or which side of him to trust, but you figured it didn’t matter because you wouldn’t have to see him again anyways.  
But oh how wrong you were yet again.
Taehyung and Jimin come back from break the weekend before classes start, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss their bright and bubbly personalities lighting up your days. And of course the first thing they want to do to kick off the semester is go watch the new Avengers movie, it’s so predictable of them but that doesn’t keep you from acting exasperated at their “lame” suggestion.
“Really now? The new Avengers movie?” You cross your arms, looking back and forth from Taehyung to Jimin.
“You know we’re huge fans” Taehyung flashes you a boxy smile. “Oh come on, Y/N, we know you are too~.”
You roll your eyes, pretending like you were being forced to something you would’ve agreed to anyways.
Jimin giggles, slapping Taehyung playfully on the shoulder, and you’re almost tempted to make a gagging motion.
“It’ll be the 3 of us, just like old times.” Taehyung chirps.
You can’t help the smile that forms on your face at Taehyung’s words, but when your eyes trace over to Jimin you notice a look of guilt wash over his features.
“What’s the matter Chim?” You query concerned.
“So I may or may not have invited….ummm, ugh…J-Jungkook” He cringes as if he was about to receive a smack in the face.
“You what!?” Taehyung gasps.
Jimin laughs nervously, preparing to use his crescent shaped eye smile to get Taehyung to forgive him. “He recently agreed to be a part of a three member dance crew with me and Hoseok. Completing our dream of entering the spring dance competition. You know how long Hoseok and I have wanted this, don't you?” Jimin explains quickly, voice full of desperation.
Taehyung practically rolls his eyes 360 degrees. “And that my friend, is how the mouse gets caught in the cheese trap.” He shakes his head and turns to you for a look of confirmation.
“Wait, you guys all know each other?” You accuse with a sharp finger pointing from Jimin to Taehyung and back to Jimin, finally putting the pieces together.
“About that…” Taehyung begins. “We used to hang out at parties and stuff all the time, until Hoseok met Yoongi, and Seokjin met Namjoon, leaving only Jungkook who decided to go solo after that.”
“And it’s always been me and Hoseok’s dream to form a dance team with Jungkook called the 3J’s, but ever since he left the group and started dating a bunch of random girls, we kind of fell apart.” Jimin adds. 
You swallow, finally viewing the picture in its entirety. “Hoseok and Yoongi, Seokjin and Namjoon, they’re all soulmates….” There it was again, the word you just seem to be unable to avoid. Taehyung and Jimin nod simultaneously, flashing you a sympathetic look.
“And I know it seems like I’m just letting go of the grudge I held against him because he agreed to join us again, but he seems different lately.” Jimin continues, inciting a skeptical look from both you and Taehyung, but there’s was nothing you could do now that Jimin’s already made up his mind.
“So you only invited him, right?” Taehyung inquires, just making sure there’re aren’t any more surprises.
“Jungkook and his plus one.” Jimin corrects, the statement making your heart fall to the pit of your stomach for reasons you claim are unknown to yourself. You knew he wouldn’t butt in on Taehyung and Jimin’s movie date without bringing an actual date himself, and yet you where somehow clutching on to the idea that maybe he take a break from being in fleeting relationships akin to that of fuck buddies.
“Oh come on Tae, you know Jungkook is rarely seen without at least one girl attached to his hip.” Jimin says. “He’s not the innocent child we knew before.”
“Ok guys, it’s fine.” You cut in. “Being the 5th wheel isn’t all that different from being the 3rd anyways.” It’s supposed to be a joke, but neither Jimin nor Taehyung laughs; they just throw you that sympathetic look you’ve gotten way to use to seeing.
The three of you wait for Jungkook- and whichever girl he was probably screwing now, at the Student Union so the five of you can walk to the city from there. You were listening to Taehyung and Jimin talk about how their break was, how their families are doing, and their plans for this summer (yeah already, and the semester technically hasn’t even started yet). Taehyung was in the middle of suggesting you guys go on a road trip/camping with the crew when he abruptly stops as you hear the footsteps of someone approach.  
You turn to see who you suspected it was.
“Hey” Jungkook’s familiar voice cuts through the sounds of the other students in the background, making you tense up as you were reminded of the other times you’ve heard that voice. 
He was dressed very casually, wearing a beanie to cover his hair except the bangs that lay flat against his forehead. There was something odd about his demeanor or what you couldn’t really place a finger on…until you realized…
He’s alone.
“So, uhh, where’s Rose?” Jimin asks, looking around and behind Jungkook to see if there was anyone there.
“She canceled,” He says, short, detached, and unbothered in the slightest.
“And you couldn’t find a replacement?” Taehyung raises his eyebrows disbelievingly.
“It was last minute.” Jungkook shrugs, avoiding your muted gazes.
“Ok, then are we ready to go?” Jimin gets up from his seat and flashes everyone a cheerful grin.
The fact that you haven't seen or spoken to Jungkook since you stripped him down naked and tended to his fever and the fact that Jungkook is clearly trying not to acknowledge your presence now doesn’t really sit well with you. If he’s going to be back to being buddies with Taehyung and Jimin, you’re going to have to force yourself to be on good terms with the guy.
You eye him suspiciously as he diverts his attention to the direction of the movie theater five blocks down. Jimin and Taehyung walk in front of the two of you, giggling in hushed whispers, pointing at the interesting objects displayed in the shop windows, forgetting that you and Jungkook were trailing awkwardly behind.
Somewhere in the space between skyscrapers and the muffled hum of car engines, you feel Jungkook’s hand brush against yours. It’s a light touch, the flutter of a feather drifting in the air, but it sends a tingle shooting up your arm and you swallow the saliva that has built up in your mouth.
You hear Jungkook clear his throat, and it was as if there were words bubbling up to his throat but ended up getting swallowing before they could be voiced.
The crowd of people was becoming denser as you neared the busier part of the city, it was hard not to be bumped by some random shoulder, or be squished closer and closer to Jungkook who was walking next to you. Taehyung and Jimin were far ahead now, and you could barely see the top of their head through the swarm of bodies.
“Um, is it ok if I hold your hand?” Jungkook murmurs, barely loud enough for you to hear.
You turn to see that he’s looking at you, waiting for you to either accept or reject him. You’re pretty sure your expression is reflecting how unprepared you were to face such a sudden request, and you’d be lying if you said that was an easy question to answer whether you said yes or no.
“Uh, you know, so we don’t get separated?” He adds in a significantly less confident tone. 
You ponder over his statement again, wanting to dissect the expression on his own face so you could figure out what his motives are, but the innocent look in his eyes compels you to nod before your mind could stop yourself.
At your signal, he tentatively reaches over and takes your hand, unable to even make eye contact as he performs the deed because he was so nervous. Jungkook’s hand is surprisingly delicate and soft. You’re not exactly sure what you were expecting because you had never taken the time to imagine what his hands would feel like, but it’s much warmer than yours. And you’re sure he’s taking note of how cold your hand is because he proceeds to stuff your intertwined hands into his coat pocket. He doesn’t look at you for the remainder of the walk to the movie theater, but you can feel his fingers move, and tenderly rub your frozen digits in an attempt to warm them up. His firm grip is strong yet gentle, like he was afraid to hurt you but also didn’t ever want to let go.
You would also be lying if you said walking hand in hand with Jungkook for the first time didn’t feel strange, but it’d be a bigger lie to say you didn’t enjoy feeling so protected and safe for once in your life.
You’re so caught up in your dreamy thoughts that you don’t notice the bump in the sidewalk that you conveniently decide to trip on in that moment. It sends you tumbling forward, but Jungkook catches you just in time, right before you can fall face flat on the hard cement.
“You ok?” Jungkook turns to you with concern while he supports your upper body.
“Yeah, haha.” You try to laugh it off, but it sounds more forced than you intended. “I do that all the time.”
He chuckles silently, relaxing a little for the first time this evening. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m here then.”
You open your mouth to respond, but your mind blanks for a millisecond.
“I-I mean, you know, keeping you from falling and stuff.” He quickly adds, clearing his throat awkwardly. 
“T-Thanks” You murmur softly, trying to avoid looking at his flushing face. You hope that he can’t sense your own nervousness and the churning of butterflies in your stomach, because you know exactly why that feeling is there and you most certainly do not want to address it.
You can feel his hand still moving as the two of you continue to walk, gripping and releasing like he was gently kneading your hand, contemplating how to start a conversation that would loosen the tense atmosphere hovering over the two of you.
“So, uh, I know you’re not interested in going out with me, but if you ever need someone when you’re with Taehyung and Jimin, I’ll be happy to get you out of that 3rd wheel situation.” He suddenly says when the two of you were reaching the theater entrance.
You wonder if that’s the real reason he came today.
“Jungkook, look, I don’t want to complicate things between us-”
“I understand.” He interrupts before you can finish. “It’s just, I’ve been in that sort of position, and I really hated that feeling of tagging along as an extra. Please don’t think this is just me trying to get in your pants or anything or being fake to get you to do something you don’t want to. I-I just want to help, and I totally get the not wanting to make it awkward between us since our friend groups overlap, and you know, it’s just, ugh, I’m just so bad at this.” He lets out a long exhale knowing that he was ranting again, that habit of his when he gets hit with social anxiety and hasn’t planned a whole speech out to come off cool and composed.
You bite your lip, wanting to let him know what you were truly thinking. Even though his thoughts came out jumbled, you get what he’s saying and you’re shocked at how accurately he hit the spot. It was true. As much as you liked being alone, you did hate that feeling of being out of place when Jimin and Taehyung dragged you along to their “dates”, you have been in situations when you wished someone who just come and take your hand and tell you they’ll be there when you don’t want to be alone. And you finally realized why you were secretly so happy when Jungkook had come without a date. But you don’t get the chance to respond because the heat of the theater lobby was greeting you, and your first instinct is to quickly slip your hand out of Jungkook’s pocket before Jimin and Taehyung turn to wave you guys over.
“We got the tickets!” Taehyung announces.
“Hope you guys don’t mind sitting closer to the back.” Jimin adds. “We probably should’ve reserved seats because this place is packed.”
You shrug. “Fine with me.”
You quickly follow behind Jimin and Taehyung, trying to put off the thought of responding to Jungkook’s offer. You’re immensely thankful that the lighting in theater is dim because it was acting as a blanket to cover all of the untended issues you were choosing to run away from.
“Oh yeah, and our seats are not in the same row.” Taehyung whispers. “Umm, do you want to sit with me and Jimin with Jungkook or I could sit with Jungkook and-“
“Tae, you go ahead and sit with Jimin” You interrupt, knowing that he was just trying to be polite and was probably feeling bad about leaving you with Jungkook.
“You sure?” He says, looking up to eye Jungkook who was pretending he couldn’t hear the conversation. 
You nod in confirmation.
 …
Seokjin and Namjoon may not seem like a classic soulmate pairing to the untrained eye, but you’ve known the two of them long enough to recognize complementarity at its finest. Kim Seokjin is maternal, protective, and caring, while Kim Namjoon is a genius-born leader and total klutz hybrid.
Seokjin is a complete jokester, always has been, and anyone who wasn’t familiar with his eccentric personality would think Namjoon was the older one in the relationship. But oh how wrong they would be, because despite always emphasizing his age with anyone younger than him, Seokjin has always treated Namjoon as his equal, if not superior. And everyone knew they were meant to be the moment he refrained himself from jumping out of his pants when Namjoon accidentally addressed him informally. It was actually quite a life defining moment.   
They now live comfortably in a newly constructed apartment complex downtown, and have invited you, Jimin, and Taehyung over for “afternoon tea”. It honestly did not make any sense to you, but it had something to do with Seokjin wanting to test out the housewife life just for kicks before heading off to grad school.
“I don’t get why Y/N and Jungkook can’t just get together.” Seokjin blurts out, making you jolt at the sound of your name and Jungkook’s being used in the same sentence.
The five of you were currently gathered in their cleanly organized living room, enjoying freshly brewed tea and baked goods courtesy of none other than Kim Seokjin.
“You know that’s not how it works,” Namjoon reminds him, before you can come up with a similar retort.
“He clearly doesn’t care about staying faithful to his soulmate.” Seokjin sighs. “He’s too feisty. I blame it on his competitive nature. I told him to wait for the time to come, but that boy has no patience.”
“Hyung, I think it’s better not to talk about that when, you know” Taehyung gestures to you not-so-subtly.
“Oh sorry, Y/N, I didn’t mean to-“
“Guys, how many times do I have to say that I’m over it?” You try and convince them that you’re fine with not knowing your soulmate and they don’t have to act like they’re walking on needles when they bring up the topic in front of you.
“Who is Jungkook’s soulmate anyways? Has he told you guys their name?” Jimin suddenly asks.
“I thought he told you guys.” Seokjin responds raising both his eyebrows. “He’s never bothered to tell us.”
“He hasn’t told any of us?” Taehyung gasps.
“Let the boy have his privacy.” Namjoon butts in. “I’m sure we’ll all know once that person shows up.”
There’s a moment of prolonged pause before Namjoon suddenly speaks again.
“So, Y/N, not to be nosy or anything, but what exactly happened to your, ugh, soulmate?”
“Oh right, I haven’t told you yet” You respond, realizing Namjoon has no idea about the line tattooed on your wrist. He probably thought you just hadn’t met them yet. “My soulmates name didn’t really show up when I was eighteen.”
He throws you a startled look. “Like there’s nothing there?”
You roll up your sleeve and show him the faint marking that had already grown almost invisible.
“Ahh, the infamous horizontal line.”
Your eyes widen. “You’ve seen this before?”
He chuckles lightly. “Not until now.” He admits, gesturing at your wrist. “But I’ve heard about how some people don’t get names but different markings instead.” He shakes his head. “They are very rare, and there’s still a lot that is unknown about what they mean, but I found an old book at a library once that explained some of the markings that have shown up throughout history.”
You ears perk up. “Did it say anything about what a line means?” You feel your heart beat quicken as you wait for the older male to respond.
“Well…” He begins, rubbing his hands together and preparing his pending monologue. “It talked about a couple of the more common markings. Like for example, an X meaning your soulmate has died before you met them, a circle for soulmates who will not meet in this life but another, and a triangle for people who have soulmates that have someone else’s name on their wrist and not theirs….” He sighs. “As for a line like yours….”
You lean in closer because his voice suddenly grew soft.
“…the book said that it was the rarest of all the symbols that have been studied so far.” He pauses again. “It means… you don’t have a soulmate.” The last sentence almost comes out inaudible, and you aren’t quite sure if it’s because Namjoon’s voice was so hushed or because your eardrums feel like they were suddenly plunged underwater.  
And maybe it was just because you were still clutching onto that nonexistent sliver of hope that a name would eventually appear, or that your soulmate would have the same marking as you and it would mean you found them, but all of that vanished with Namjoon’s words. The other markings are undoubtedly tragic, heartbreakingly so, but in some twisted way that could even come off as romantic depending on how one chose to view it, like those famous tales of star-crossed lovers or sad endings that are so meaningful because of the beautiful love that once was or could have been. But none of that was applicable in your case. It’s like you were torn away from all of that, not even privileged enough to feel the kind of gnawing pain that unforgettable or unrequited love leaves behind because what you are faced with is not even the thought of that red string of fate being cut or disappearing because now you’ve come to the realization that it never even existed in the first place.
You will always be reaching for something that is not there and never will be.
“Y/N, are you ok?” The voice of Jimin cuts through your isolated thoughts.
Breaking away from your reverie, you don’t have a choice but to force yourself back into reality and tell him you’re fine. Because truthfully, you are, and although it may seem unfair at times, you have already come to terms with your destiny, so knowing the meaning behind the rare marking on your wrist should not change that aforementioned acceptance.
...right? 
 On the Monday that classes officially begin, you run into Jungkook again.
You were starting to think your frequent run-ins with the younger male are too odd to be simple coincidences, but then you realize this was strictly only the second (or third?) time it’s been unplanned. But if that wasn’t enough evidence, the way he tries to pretend he hasn’t seen you and attempts to play it off as if the two of you were complete strangers tells you that he was not expecting to see your face among the crowd of swarming students. You watch in amusement as he looks everywhere but in the direction of you, even trying to use his scarf to cover his face.
“Jungkook!”
His eyes widen at the sound of your voice calling his name.
“I swear I’m not a stalker” is the first thing he blurts out of his mouth.
You giggle at how endearing he looks as he waits for you to charge him with a felony. “It’s fine. Coincidence, right?”
“Y-yeah, cause you know, I was walking to class and then… you… and I-I…yeah.” He smiles shyly, scratching the back of his neck.
You smile before looking down at your phone and notice that your first lecture starts in less than 5 minutes. “Well, I better get going. Don’t want to be late!” You turn to leave, but notice that he’s not making a motion to do the same. Instead, he’s just standing there, looking around like he didn’t have a class to catch. 
“Ok, don’t tell me it’s because you don’t want to walk the same way again.” You look at him mischievously, crossing your arms and patiently waiting for his response.
“Would you believe me if I said it is?” He almost sounds timid, like he was afraid you were going to get angry with him for being annoying or bothersome.  
“Unbelievable.” You sigh, shaking your head but unable to contain the grin that peeks through your incredulous expression. “What class are you headed to?”
“Zoology”
Your jaw drops. “No way.”
Jungkook looks at you confused.
“Me too.” You cannot believe this is actually happening. “But why are taking Zoology!?” You ask the question as if it’s something he shouldn’t be doing when in fact it should be the other way around, but you were in too much of a shock to think clearly. 
Jungkook cocks a brow. “Shouldn’t I be asking why you’re taking a freshman class?”
You can feel your face heat up. “I-I” Why the hell were you getting nervous now? “I put off finishing the my last life sciences requirement, and I didn’t want to take human anatomy and physiology because those are two separate courses.”
“Makes sense” Jungkook bobs his head in understanding, not wording another question as the two of you scramble into the lecture hall just in the nick of time.
...
It becomes something of the norm, a routine if you will, for the next few weeks verging on months. Namely you and Jungkook showing up at 8am lecture occasionally together, other times separately. Often times he gets there before you, and less frequently, you get there before him, but whatever the case you make it a habit to try and bring two cups of coffee when you get the chance to stop by the cafe so neither of you end up falling asleep half way through. He says he’s not a morning person, but he always seems to arrive in class earlier than you on most days, saving you a seat next to him with his backpack that he removes upon your entrance.  
You have to admit that in the beginning it was still a bit awkward, to see him every other day, bright and early in the morning, especially on the days you hit the snooze button one to many times and have to skip putting on makeup. You swear Jungkook is pretending when he acts like he doesn’t notice your dark eye bags and far from flawless skin, but you know he does and just chooses not to address why you look like you just rolled out of bed (or got ran over by a semi).
“Oh my god. I thought I was going to be late!” You huff as you settle down in the seat next to him.
“You know you could’ve just copied my notes right?” He grins, sliding over a pen and a sheet of blank paper he tears out of his notebook because he already knows you forgot in your frenzy to get to class.
“True” You respond casually, taking the stationary from him with gratitude. “But it’s not the same.”
It really isn’t, but that’s not genuinely the reason you not only haven’t skipped lecture all semester but have also consistently been on time, even in an impossible crunch. And as reluctant as you are to admit it, you secretly know you’re going because you know he’s going to be there waiting for you. Because let’s be real, you’ve skipped your fair share of classes in the past 3 years, and Zoology would not have been an exception had it not been for a certain Jeon Jungkook. You got used to counting on the fact that seeing him would put you in a good mood for the rest of the day, and you’re almost sure he’d be at least slightly disappointed if you didn’t show up one day. That kind of disappointment is not something you want to be held responsible for, not when his smiles makes his eyes crinkle in the corners and your heart feel all warm and fuzzy. 
So despite thinking it was maybe a bad idea to put off a freshman course until your junior year, you soon come to realize you’re more than grateful you did because you also don’t think you would’ve survived through dissections without Jungkook as your lab partner.  
“That freaking grasshopper was scary as fuck.” You comment as the two of you walk out of lab for the umpteenth time.
Jungkook laughs, making that signature cackling noise you’ve come to recognize from a mile away. “It was dead though.” He points out.
“My statement holds.” You shiver at the thought of how large it was, and how terrifying it looked when you were dissecting it. You hated bugs with a passion, and it didn’t matter that it was a lifeless black corpse, prior green color completely drained from being soaked in embalming fluid for god knows how long. “And it smelled horrible.”
“Not as bad as that dead bird.” Jungkook wrinkles his nose cutely.
“I think that’s only because the formaldehyde didn’t penetrate deep enough into the breast tissue. It smelled rotten.” You think back to how foul the specimen smelled, and mimic Jungkook’s nose scrunch.  
“Still. I’ll never look at chicken the same way again.”
 ...
The first half of the semester passes by at half the speed of light. You and Jungkook see each other in class and lab three days a week and occasionally on the weekends when you have to study for an exam. He’s boyish and funny, and you learn that he’s also really competitive because he goes out of his way to memorize entire taxonomies just to beat you in study games.
“How did you get another hundred?!” You stare, wide-eyed and dumbfounded at his test score. “Unbelievable.” You can’t even ignore the hint of jealousy that’s nipping at your belly.
He shrugs pretending like he did know it was because of his competitive nature and your suggestion to make studying a game of sorts.
“And you’re not even going to thank me?” You inquire, crossing your arms and waiting to hear a declaration of gratitude from him.
“For what?” He tilts his head innocently, still playing the oblivious bystander.
You frown. “Stop pretending like you would’ve set the curve had it not been for the game I came up with.”
There’s a pause as he pretends to ponder over the statement. “You’re right” He smirks. “I wouldn’t have. Thank you…Noona.”
His emphasis on that last word makes you blush like crazy, sinking down into your scarf to hide the blossoming roses. Did he seriously just?!
Sometimes you forget that you’re still older than him because he constantly makes it a point to act like age doesn’t matter. But it’s always when you least expect it, that he chooses just the right words to make your heart pound faster than it should. The audacity.
“Well, I’m off to my next class! ” You inform abruptly.
Jungkook smiles as you hastily turn away, acting like you were going to be late, when you knew that he knew it didn’t start until the next hour. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” He yells across the widening distance between the two of you.
“Yup!” You shout back as you almost half sprint through the lawn.  
In all honesty, you didn’t think a lame class like Zoology would end up being your favorite class of the semester, in fact, you were actually expecting to hate it with a passion, but something about getting to joke around with Jungkook put a smile on your face on those mornings when it was hard to get out of bed, and that’s more than you could’ve asked for.
 …
 A couple of days before Spring Break, Yoongi invites everyone to his “annual celebration”. It’s essentially just a small get together that he hosts at his parents’ mansion while they are out of town, so it’s not anything wild, particularly since Yoongi’s parents are a bit anal about keeping the place spotless and Yoongi himself is not a fan of big parties.
This is the first year you’ve been invited, or more accurately Taehyung and Jimin invited you because you don’t actually know Yoongi all that well, but friends of friends are usually forced to get along. That said, you’re not actually going because the they dragged you along for once. You’re going because Jungkook had asked you to go with him a few days before the inseparable pair even brought it up.   
It went down something like:
“S-so uhh, a friend of mine…uh, Yoongi, is having this p-party…and I w-was wonder if maybe you want to…?”
“Go with you?” You finish the sentence for him, not even bothering to hide the amused smile that stretches across your face.
The way he still gets choked up by his nerves has always been charming in it’s own unique way, especially when contrasted to the manner you’ve witnessed him joke about anything and everything at this point. So of course you agree, forgetting about the astonished looks on all of your friends’ faces when you walk in to Yoongi’s house with Jeon Jungkook at your side.
Yoongi’s expression isn’t all that different from the way he looks bored 99% of the time. You’ve only been acquainted with the guy on a couple of rare occasions, but according to Jimin, he has quite the natural poker face.
Seokjin and Namjoon have somewhat of a pair of knowing smiles plastered on their faces, and you’re first thought is, you don’t want them to get the wrong idea. You know exactly what they are thinking, and you didn’t want them to jump to any conclusions.  
Hoseok’s face is perhaps the most startled. His mouth forms a perfect “o” as his pupils dart from you to Jungkook and back to you.
“Jungkookie!” He suddenly shouts as he snaps out of his trance and runs up to the two of you still standing in the door way. He flings an arm around Yoongi who was still holding the door open as you and Jungkook proceed to remove your shoes at the entrance.
“Hyung!” Jungkook greets with a nod as the older male pats him on the shoulder.
“And this…is Y/N, right?” You look up and notice that Hoseok is now looking at you with a smile brighter than the sun. You’re slightly pleased that he still remembers you from the coffee shop incident a couple months ago. 
You nod, returning a smile of your own.
He points at Jungkook and then back at you. “Are you guys finally…?”
Jungkook opens his mouth to respond, but you beat him to it.
“We’re just in the same class this semester.” Even as you hear your own response, you can’t believe it flew out of your mouth so quickly. You see Jungkook’s face drop ever so slightly from the corner of your eye, and something in your chest clenches.
You don’t really know what you and Jungkook are because you’re obviously not together in the traditional sense. You’re just friends…classmates…lab partners…or maybe more, you don’t really know. You do, however, know that you don’t want to set yourself up for getting hurt, and if that means being suspended in this ambiguous state with Jungkook, then maybe it’s better to keep it that way.  
It’d be a lie to say you never thought about being more than friends, but it’s only a fleeting thought you sweep to the back of your mind whenever you’re reminded of that sting on your wrist. Seldom do you ponder over the idea of being more than friends with anyone, especially not when you know it’ll only be a fling for them before they find their destined soulmate, and you are definitely not one to go against the laws of the universe.  
“I see” Hoseok nods in mild disappointment.
“Well, help yourselves to drinks and snacks” Yoongi cuts in. You had almost forgotten he was still there because he had been silent for so long.
“Guys let’s sing!” Taehyung suddenly pipes up.
“Oh god” You hear Namjoon groan in the background, but it doesn’t stop Taehyung and Jimin from giggling like little kids as they hurriedly set up the karaoke system.
It was not a surprise that they would end up being on a team. You’ve always known they were naturally talented singers, and you’ve witnessed their angelic voices first ear on more occasions than one. They know they’re good, so of course they end up going first and getting a solid 95%.
“You guys do this just to make us look bad right?” Yoongi sighs as he takes the mic Jimin conveniently hands him with a playful smile.
“No problem. We’ve got this.” Hoseok loosens his shoulders confidently and smirks. For the few seconds before the duet open their mouths, you’re almost led to believe they might give the reigning champions a run for their money. That is, until the song actually begins and you’re almost tempted to cover your ears. 
It’s safe to say Hoseok and Yoongi don’t even try to stay on key. They’re hitting all the wrong notes, and they howl at the top of their lungs as if singing louder will hide their cracking voices.
“You’re turn” Hoseok says to Namjoon as the song ends.
“And don’t even try to let Seokjin do all the singing.” Yoongi adds.
Namjoon starts three pitches lower than he actually should, and suddenly goes up three pitches higher. It makes you wonder if he’s just doing it on purpose or if he’s just vocally challenged. Seokjin, however, has one of the most soothing voices you’ve ever heard, but you’re not allowed to enjoy it for long before it’s you and Jungkook’s turn.
You’re nervous to say the least, but Jungkook flashes you a reassuring smile that quells your anxiety. You’ve never been told you were a bad singer, but you weren’t amazing either and certainly nowhere near the level of Taehyung and Jimin.
When the song begins you start out softly, almost at an inaudible volume due to the fear of singing on the wrong key or messing up the lyrics, but you hear a voice so clear and calming, twirling along the melody like colorful ribbons, that you question if they accidentally forgot to turn off the original singer’s voice. You glance around but detect that no one is making a move to correct what you assumed to be a mistake, and then it hits you that it’s Jungkook. You’re so at loss for words that you’ve stopped singing completely, slowly turning your head to look at the male sitting next to you in awe. His eyes were closed, and he was fully immersed in the song like a lonely man serenading his lover. You’re mouth hangs slightly ajar, and you barely comprehend the ending of the song when his eyes flutter open to meet yours.
“As expected” Jimin sighs at the perfect score flashing on the screen. 
Jungkook clears his throat and diverts his eyes the same time you do.
“Well, I kind of stopped singing like 10 seconds into the song.” You admit embarrassingly, even though it was probably obvious to everyone in the room.
“It’s ok, Y/N, it’s just for fun anyways.” Taehyung hops up to grab the mic from Jungkook. “Who’s ready for round 2?”
A series of reluctant groans is heard from Yoongi and Hoseok before Namjoon comes up with a negotiation.
“Let us rap and you’ve got a deal,” Namjoon requests, to which Taehyung and Jimin both permit, decreeing it “only fair in the spirit of the game”.
 ...
A couple hours later, every one is either passed out on the couch or still drunkenly singing. Yoongi’s house is more spacious than you had imagined, so you decide to have a look around and grab a breath of fresh air. One of the guest bedrooms has a nice balcony overlooking the mountainside, so you decide to do some stargazing or viewing of the enthralling cityscape in the distance. It’s the perfect setting for you to contemplate life the way you always do when you’re feeling that need for solitude.
It was a clear night, the moon was hanging on the dark indigo canvas, looming over the treetops that are partially covering the miniature skyscrapers as seen from afar. The breeze is a bit chilly, but not unbearable and the muted sounds of the night are serene and sedative.
Just as you were watching a dark cloud drift across the starry expanse, you hear a faint click and the opening of the sliding door behind you.
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you were here.” Jungkook’s voice is apologetic and soft. 
“It’s ok, I just thought I’d get some fresh air.” You smile, hoping that the moonlight is bright enough for him to see that you’re not bothered by his interruption in the slightest.
He nods before sluggishly turning to leave.
“Jungkook, wait” You stop him before he steps back inside. “Do you want to talk for a bit?”
A surprised expression sweeps across his face, but just as quickly as it appeared it’s washed away as he approaches you with a relieved smile.
“Things were getting pretty crazy back there.” Jungkook chuckles weakly, trying to lighten up the stuffy atmosphere hovering over the two of you. “They’re all passed out now.”
“Yeah, I had no idea Karaoke could be that intense.”
“Haha, yea. Today was actually tame compared to some other instances.”
You grin, thinking about how hilarious Yoongi, Hoseok, and Namjoon were. “You’re really good at singing.” You comment, not meeting his eye but somehow able to see how wide they’re probably opened right now.
“T-thanks” He clears his throat and swallows. “I’ve always loved singing. I practiced only when I was alone, which used to be all the time, so I guess that explains why I got good at it. ”
“Did you ever feel lonely?” It was more of a test rather than a question. You just wanted to hear his opinion on the matter, the one topic you seem to ponder over all the damn time whether you choose to acknowledge it or not. And it somehow always ends up resulting in you convincing yourself that you’re not lonely at all, and that you simply enjoy being alone. 
You still believe it’s indisputably true.
Jungkook doesn’t respond right away, taking the time to really think about your rather impulsive inquiry. He turns his attention to you, and you really don’t have a choice but to maintain eye contact because you had initiated the question and he was relaying an answer.
“Sometimes I feel like I can have all the people in the world and still feel lonely.”
Your breathing slows to a stand still.
“And it’s those times when I’m alone that I feel like I’m with the perfect amount of company. It’s like I can only win by battling lonely with lonely. ” He chuckles. “Ugh, I don’t know what I’m saying anymore.” He drops his gaze, and if it weren’t for the darkness you would probably be able to see the color drenching his features.
You cautiously take a few steps forward, making sure not to startle him. “How do you feel now?”
You can see his lip part as he looks back up at you who is now only inches away from his face. Lifting a tentative hand, you reach up to cup his soft cheek, feeling the warmth of his tender skin in the center of your palm. It’s the first time you’ve examined him from such proximity, the curvature of his nose, the slight pout of his lip, and his eyes- a pair of crystal clear orbs that are shimmering under the moonlight, glittering with the light of a thousand stars.
Moving forward, you can sense his hesitation, but he doesn’t inch back. Instead he leans in closer, lifting his own hand to grab your wrist and pull you towards him until your bodies were almost in contact.
And then his lips are melting onto yours.
Your eyes are closed but you can feel him. You can feel the way he releases his grip of your wrist as he uses both hands to caress your face. Your own hold on his cheek is broken as you lose yourself to the sensation of his soothing lips enveloping yours, motions slowly paced with a trained patience that tells you he’s still afraid. Initially, it’s frustratingly delicate, the way he holds back as if you would suddenly pull away if he were too urgent- too forceful, but gradually the momentum picks up and the swirling ways of his tongue incites you to press your body against his, erasing any thought of turning back, like an object hitting escape velocity setting off on its way to the end of the universe.
He supports you against the sliding glass door as he continues to drink you in; hands clasped around your hips as you hastily reach backwards and slide the door open so the both of you can stumble back inside. You fall onto the bed, gasping for air as he cages you underneath him. 
“Are you sure about this?” He whispers in between breaths as he searches for the answer in your eyes.  
“Positive” You answer with a confidence you weren’t aware you had, but you were ready to finally give in to that desire buried deep within your heart, the one you’ve ignored all this time because you too, were afraid.
He nods gently before connecting his lips with yours once more, working his way down your neck and igniting a flame in your stomach. His hands begin roaming parts of your body that you didn’t think he had the guts to explore, and it makes you question if he’s just as nervous as you are or if you were perhaps analyzing this situation more than you should. Your thoughts are racing as he tugs your pants down, coming back up after he does and taking your lips into his once more. You falteringly start to unbutton his shirt, but it so painstakingly sloppy that he lifts a hand to stop you after only two buttons, pausing to stand up and throw it off completely instead. You can feel your readiness increase as you eye his toned torso, the one you’ve had unspeakable thoughts of since the day you tended to his fever.
His eyes trace along your own bare figure, laid on the bed with no protective barrier, nothing to hide any of your self-proclaimed flaws, and that’s when you’re hit with an instant of vulnerability right before he leans back on top of you. He dips his hand under your panties, an action that causes you to emit a loud gasp and quickly stretch down to halt him, clutching on his arm a little tighter than you intended.  
He freezes in place. “Do you want to stop?” He questions in concern, searching for a signal within your eyes.
You shake your head. “Sorry, I panicked.” You murmur, feeling even more heat rise to your face. 
He flashes you a faint half smile, giving you a light nod as he proceeds to carefully slide two fingers between your already moistened folds. He plunges them in and out, wiggling in fluid motions, and using his thumb to rub your clitoris in small circular drawings, sensually spreading the fluid that is being released by your arousal. You feel the knot in your lower abdomen tighten, and it’s only emphasized by Jungkook’s own stifled breathing as he continues to dust tiny kisses down your neck to your exposed chest.    
“J-Jungkook” You moan rather timidly as he stops to look back up at your pleading eyes. It was embarrassing to admit it, but you couldn’t wait much longer. You needed to feel more of him inside of you. You wanted him to fill that physical hollowness, even if it was only going to be temporary.  
He somehow understands what you want without you having to state it explicitly, and you’re relieved when you see him unzipping his jeans, the crotch area of which was already giving away his own unhindered arousal.
“Are you ready?” He voices in a rich timbre, making an excited shudder run down your spine. You nod, straddling him by the waist.
He leans down to leave one last peck on your lips before he begins to enter you, sinking his length into your taut entrance. You can hear a guttural moan emanate from his throat as a reaction to how tight you actually are and how good you’re making him feel. Each of his movements is restrained but contain a trace of primal hunger that leaves you wanting more as he thrusts in and out of you after you’ve adjusted to his girth.
Never once did he lose himself in his own pleasure and forget to tend to your needs, making sure to read every little change in expression, every subtle jerk that maybe meant his movement had hurt you. You think Jungkook’s determined gaze is deceivingly sweet and misleadingly comforting because it’s erasing all of the doubt that you don’t actually have a soulmate, all of the invasive thoughts that you don’t deserve to be loved. It’s wiping away every last tear you’ve cried in the past, when you were lost and had to tell yourself that you’re fine amidst the hidden pain. Jungkook’s dazzling eyes are telling you that he will cherish you for the rest of his life, and despite the skepticism that all of this may be a dream, in that moment, you allow yourself to believe it’s real.
“Jungkook, that feels so good” You reassure him as you throw your head back against the pillow, prompting him to speed up and eliciting a louder cry to escape your lips. 
His palm rises to hold your face because he didn’t think his gaze was enough to capture how beautiful you are to him, how much you’ve meant to him all this time. And in that momentary flickering, you can see the welling of his eyes, the gathering of tears that make his obsidian irises gleam with an insurmountable volume of stardust. It brings you to a transitory calm in the heat of the moment, a fleeting pause before the burning desire comes flooding back and you can feel yourself nearing the brink. You catch a glimpse of his eye crinkles as he squeezes them shut in pleasure, biting his lip and trying to delay his release. But another moan from you sends him hurling towards the edge with you chasing after him only seconds later. The last thrust drains him of all energy as he falls on top of you, chest rising and falling in rhythm with yours as everything else dissipates.
That feeling of your tangled bodies finding each other in this sea of isolation is filling the all the spaces that were once left empty. You make an effort to remember the warmth of his body, the scent of his hair, and the dull vibration of his pulsating member still inside of you, but you’re mind is too foggy to do so. Jungkook slowly rolls off of you, shifting into a position where he’s cradling you with his torso before drifting into the deep depths of slumber.
...
Hours pass before you wake up to the dim glow of the moonlight seeping in through the opened curtains. The male next to you is still sound asleep, breathing peacefully through parted lips. You swallow the lump in your throat as you sit up, making sure you cause the bed to move as little as possible as to not wake Jungkook up. Cautiously you stand up, tug on your clothes, and tiptoe over to the door, forcing yourself to not look back at his sleeping form.
He stirs awake, sensing your intent to leave, but just as you were about to turn the doorknob and step out of the room, you hear him whimper faintly.  
You freeze in place, dropping the hand that you had lifted to twist the doorknob. It was as if the planet had stopped revolving and the surroundings had frozen in time. You turn back to Jungkook, the boy lying alone in the bed that seemed too big for how small he looked in that moment, and something in your chest constricts, robbing the air from your lungs.
“Please, don’t leave me.” He whispers pleadingly, with glossy eyes that contain entire galaxies, star systems that you cannot even dream of reaching, and looking into them in that infinitesimal second, you realize that he is, indeed, not your home.
He is not the comfort of a place that you ache to return to at the end of time and are capable of doing so, the destination every wanderer will eventually conclude their seemingly never-ending journeys. No, Jungkook is not your home. He is your hiraeth, something that does not exist in this tangible realm. He is that place that you will never be able to grasp because it is not actually there, it’s not real and never will be, but your heart will continuously chase after it anyways.
So you don’t leave him.
 You stay.
 …
 “Oh come on Y/N, we’ve been planning this for months!” Taehyung exasperates, reminding you that he and Jimin have been planning this summer road trip since the begging of the year.
Of course you still remember. How could you possibly forget?
“It wouldn’t be the same without you and Jungkook” Jimin insists, almost in a whining tone as he nudges your shoulder.
You weren’t planning on rejecting their offer anyways. You just wanted to see their genuine reactions to you pretending to be on the fence, being a tease and all. In reality, you loved road trips, camping, and travelling the country. You can practically already see the beautiful scenery that Jungkook will capture on camera, as you had learned of his love of photography and filmmaking not too long ago.
The image of his smiling face pops up in your mind, making you smile fondly before turning back to Taehyung and Jimin.
“Guys, we’re obviously going” You roll your eyes playfully as identical looks of relief wash across both of their faces simultaneously.
You liked the way they accepted your relationship with Jungkook, how seamlessly it blended in to your friend group dynamic, with virtually no objections or awkward feelings. It was like everything had finally fallen into place.
And maybe they were all still concerned for when Jungkook actually finds his soulmate, still wary of the day he might leave you for someone else, the precise thing that had held you back from accepting him for so long. But you somehow find yourself dwelling over these fears less and less as time passes, because Jungkook makes you feel courageous. He renders you strong enough to believe that everything will be ok in the end no matter what happens, and for now, that’s more than enough.
 ...
It was the end of spring semester when you receive a text from Jungkook telling you there was something important he wanted to say to you in person. He had just messaged you about meeting him by the duck pond near campus, the place students liked to read under willow trees and come to feed their expired bread to the variety of bird species in the area. The blossoming spring was a perfect setting to take a nice walk outside and enjoy the mild weather, but you find yourself racing down the sidewalk because you were already twenty minutes late.
“Y/N?”
“Jungkook, sorry I’m late. I had to turn in my thesis paper last minute, that crazy professor wanted a hard copy. Like what century is he living in?” You shake your head, still trying to catch your breath.
“No worries. I just got here myself.”
You eye his half eaten granola bar, and the rest of the crumpled wrappers he was squeezing within his palms. Jungkook was either a fast eater or he was lying to make you feel better for being nearly half an hour late.
You barely hold back the urge to swoop down and hug him dearly. “So what did you want to tell me?” You query instead, sitting down on the patch of grass next to him, dropping your backpack and leaning next to him. 
“I-I, ummm…”
“Or did you just want to see me?” You help him out; completely familiar with the way he gets too nervous to form coherent thoughts at times.
“Yeah, I really did.” He sighs, sitting up more to make room for you to rest your head against his chest as he leaned against the tree. 
A moment of silence passes as the two of you gaze out at the pond, ducks swimming in sync and the occasional elegant swan making its way across the water.
“I use to come here a lot by myself.” You say, eyes still focused on the way the warm breeze causes the droopy branches of the willow trees lining the pond to sweep along the water’s surface. “I enjoyed my time alone, and although I’m reluctant to admit this even to myself, the reason I was so obsessed with solitude was because it made me feel like I was alongside someone I really wanted to be with.” You chuckle, realizing you sounded like you were spewing nonsense. “Sorry, I’m not making any sense am I?”
Jungkook doesn’t respond right away, but you know he’s thinking about something from the way he twirls his fingers in your hair, separating the silky strands and taking his time to ponder over your words. “No, I get it.” He voices. “That feeling of always thinking about someone even if that person isn’t real. So we never feel lonely even when we are alone.”
“Wow, that’s way better than I could’ve described it.”
You feel his body shift slightly as he wraps his arm around your shoulder a little tighter, and you can’t help but reflect on the fact that the sensation of being with Jungkook felt almost exactly like the alone times you treasured so much. As impossible as it sounds, it’s like he was somehow always with you disguised as that person who isn’t real or maybe it’s the other way around.
“So there actually is something I wanted to tell you today, and I’m really not sure if this is right time or if I should just wait because I might just be messing things up by saying this to you and I’m so nervous right now- god, I’m never going to be good at this am I?” He closes his eyes and sighs deeply, making you giggle at his flustered state. Truthfully, you’ll always find it extremely endearing, and you wished he wasn’t so hard on himself.
“Jungkook, it’s ok. Just tell me, I’m all ears.” You reassure him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest and being able to hear the rapid pounding of his heart as you nuzzled against his chest.
“I love you.” He says, voice so soft and airy that it was almost carried away by the wind before it could make it’s way to you ear.
Your initial reaction is not of disbelief or skepticism because you somewhat already knew about his feelings for you. And it wasn’t because he had already gotten in your pants and made love to you and it also wasn’t a deceiving result of you own feelings for him. Jungkook had made you feel special with his nonverbal gestures and shy actions for a long time coming, even when he was pretending to be a douchebag and acting unlike his real self to impress the people around him. It was always clear to you that he had placed you somewhere deep within his heart with his showing of his vulnerable side and the seeping of his true thoughts that he only revealed to you. But the weight of the actual words that escaped his lips just now comes as a slow swelling of your heart and makes a home in widening smile gradually stretching across your features.
“I love you too, Jungkook.” You whisper back, hugging him just a tad bit tighter, even though you knew he would never disappear.  
It’s astonishing how much importance you used to put on the concept of finding a soulmate, that one person who was meant for you and promised to make you feel whole. You’ve come to learn over time that soulmates are not the final destination; your other half is not the ultimate goal in life or the only window to happiness and security, because in the end, those things are only constructs of your mind and ways that dictate how you ultimately perceive your own reality. Everyone is on this endless journey in search of that which cannot be found in this world or even the next, discovering consolation and solace in the spaces created by things we wished were there to fill the void.
Jungkook may not be your soulmate, but he’s the closest thing in this universe to that which your heart yearns for, and in a way it makes him mean so much more to you than a destined soulmate or an definitive home.
“So, this might make me sound grossly hypocritical, but I never actually received a soulmate.” You confess as you tilt your head up to read his reaction to your statement.
“What do you mean?” He questions, sitting up so he can look into your eyes because he truly cared, and he could tell just by the hesitation and tone of your voice that this was something you were reluctant to share but were doing so because you felt that it was the right time. 
You flash him a faint smile before fiddling with your sleeve, biting your bottom lip as extend your upturned wrist towards him. There’s no hue of surprise washing over his face, or any kind of shocked response flickering past his irises for that matter. He just stares down at the horizontal line that you’ve put in the utmost effort to conceal ever since the fateful day it showed up on the tender skin of your wrist with a fondness that you don’t really understand.
“Jungkook?” You whisper, afraid that you might’ve scared him or made him change his mind about you.
He doesn’t respond vocally, still gazing at the exposed skin, pale and raw from the lack of exposure to sunlight over the years. He cautiously lifts his hand to place on your wrist, rubbing the area gently with the caressing touches of his quivering fingertips. You see his eyelids flutter up to glance at you momentarily with glistening eyes and the faintest of smiles. He doesn’t say anything, but instead turns his own arm over, slowly lifting the sleeve of his shirt cuff.
And beneath the fabric that is filtering away the harshness of the world is a marking that almost stops time:  
An identical black horizontal line, matching the very one tattooed on your own wrist.
...
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damien-ward · 6 years
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Wolf Among Us
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(Thank you to the awesome DM of our event Dilleana Escalon she wrote out this description for the start of the event and played all the NPCs in this event.  She is awesome.)
Those of House Stygian who were assigned to the mission had gathered at the consulate where Lady Illayia Caliat Stygian’s arcanist opened a portal to their destination..
 The mist rested softly on the mountain peaks like a cloth draped over a pillow. The moonlight tried to break through the clouds, spilling onto the tall, green grass wet with dew. The vast valleys and glens that surrounded the landscape seemed endless. This is the lands of the ancients, and you can feel their presence in the very earth beneath your feet. The expanse of the lush greenery was breathtaking. The mountain peaked were topped with ivory snow at the very top, with cascades of green that clung to the rocky sides. Splashes of purple were scattered around from the thistle and heather that sprouted from the fertile soils. Along the valley under Stygian’s feet, yellow daffodils brushed along their ankles and spread in thick clusters as far as the eye could see. Sheep, freshly wooled, were grazing along their pasture. A small creek ran by, pouring out of the nearby woodland and filled the air with a bubbling melody of running water.
 Up the road, there was a slate roofed farmhouse. The farm grew up out of the pale green hills as if it had always been part of the scenery. The house itself was a beautiful brick, the colors being the hues of the land herself, rustic brown striations on grey rock. Upon the rolling fields grew potatoes, turnips and other root related vegetables. Beyond the farm, several leagues off rested a quaint village. At the center of it all towered what appeared to be a church. It’s height towered over the rest of the buildings that circled it, and it’s brick had darkened with age, giving it’s Gothic steeples an eerie appearance. On top of it all, at the very top where the clouds parted...the moon hung low and large, and blood red in color.
The moon drew the attention of everyone, as they wondered if it had something to do with why they were asked to come here and discussed why the moon was red.
Dilleana Escanlon, House Stygian’s Director of the Battalion, let out a low hum. "Well...to be honest." She paused and flickered her ambers skyward. "I have no idea if that's even relevant to what's going on here. The Circle caught wind of a rumor, which of course I then heard...and this isn't the first time I've asked help from Stygian in regards to druidic matters. But basically, this village has been plagued by something lupine in nature, started stirring up a lot of local lore...so it also could be nothing. "
 “Lupine? Like a worgen?”  Dardillien asked as he turned to their leader.
“So we have a feral worgen or a pack of rabid wolves?” Mozelle, the second in command behind Dilleana, also asked.
The group discussed the possibilities of what the creature could be, from a worgen, to a shaman wolf spirit, to rabid wolves, and even the wolf cult.  After the discussion, Dilleana took to her bird form to survey the area around from the skies while Mozelle led the group on the ground.  As the group drew closer to the farm house, the lights inside had long since been blown out for the night. Had it not been so late, one might have thought that the home had all together been abandoned. However, by the look of the drying line of clothes outside, it was still indeed inhabited. Suddenly, The bells rang in a peal. Normally this would signal a wedding or Sunday service. But it was midnight and the clanging that echoed through the valley was chaotic rather than melodic. It was a warning.  The farmstead showed no sign of movement in it as the bells rung out so the group turned towards the source of the ringing, they noticed in the center of the village an animal chained to an altar, and in front of it the body of a person.  With Mozelle at the head, the group made it’s way into the village toward the altar to investigate.
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As the bells chimed, the whole village came to life. Lights of candles flickered in the windows before citizens, painted Dwarves in nature emerged from their homes. They all began to flock to the church, looking at the outsiders in slight confusion, but it appeared the panic got the best of them. A few people seemed to stop on their way to the church however, and screamed in horror. One woman fainted by the altar, causing the rest of the citizens to gather around and chatter.  
Mozelle, Illayia, and the other members of House Stygian gathered around the altar to investigate while Dardillien kept his eyes peeled and continued to survey around the village, checking for any suspicious activity using his enhanced senses to sniff the area and listen for anything. After a short time, the worgen returned to the rest of group to see what they discovered, and tell them the area seemed clear.
At the altar stood a sheep,chained to a metal stake in the ground. While most of the women and children rushed for the church, a few men were carrying the woman who had fainted off. The body that laid before the altar was female, young, and very bloodied. Long claw marks ripped down her torso, shredding the fabric of her dress. The bleeding had long stopped, and body just started to go cold. No pool of blood lay beside her, indicating that she had probably been moved.
"Looks like it was either a worg — which do exist in the area — or a worgen. I'd lean towards worgen, as both wolves and worgs prefer to bite their prey and clawing is supplementary to biting, whereas worgen are more inclined to claw." Mozelle spoke up as she examined the woman’s corpse, “She wasn't killed here. The body was moved postmortem, as you can see by the lack of blood on the altar.”
"From my experience, worgen prefer to bite if they are feral, they tend to go for the neck or shoulder."  Dardillien said in response to Mozelle’s remark.
The poor sheep was huddled as far away as he could from the surrounding people, shaking and wide eyed in his fear. At one point he tried to bolt, but upon the yank of his chain he began to pace. By now the group of men that were by the alter were startingto take attention to Mozelle and company. A few were specifically looking at Dardillien in an accusing manner. Hush whispered began to form before one dwarf addressed the group. He was a short, stubby old man, bald and black bearded with blue tattoos streaked across the shiny head. "Woo ye' be?"
Mozelle began to explain to the Dwarf, who seemed to be the leader of this community, that they were there to assist the Cenarion Circle in this mystery of the lupine creature, however the elder Dwarf was hard of hearing and had never heard of the Cenarion Circle and began ranting about how the village had a pact with the ‘hine’ and it broke it by killing the young female.  Meanwhile, Dardillien took a look around the area at the scared people's faces as they stared and whispered.. pointing at him, Damn.. Why did I show up here in worgen form? I am an idiot, these people are terrified of a lupine creature.. Dardillien thought to himself before beginning to revert back to his human form.  As he reverted, the townspeople seemed even more freaked and concerned. A few began to slowly approach him, hands raised in a defensive yet predatory manner.
"Would you like any assistance with handling this hine?" Mozelle offered to the elder Dwarf.
"Ye' already 'ot on right there~!" He threw up a heavy hand, pointing an accusing finger towards Dardillien. "And we gon' keep him 'round here. Ye' all be outlanders, outsiders. Suddenly ye' show up wi' a hine and we 'ot a dead girl? Somethin' ain't right!"
Mozelle shrugged. "I have no objections to you detaining him. However, we did not even enter town until after the woman was dead."
"Ah, likely story. But if ya' so sure it ain't yer hine responsible for this...then we -will- detain him until we know why the pact was broken!" The elder Dwarf yelled, “We know about the hine! They can't go on to holy ground, silver is deadly, and normally a bite is fatal but a scarlet moon'll change ye!"
During all this Dardillien watched as the other Dwarven men approached cautiously, he did not resist and only put his hands up to show he meant them no harm.  The Dwarves quickly grabbed him and pulled his arms behind his back, putting silver shackles around his wrists to keep him detained... he knew these silver shackles did nothing, but he did not want to cause anymore trouble by changing and breaking free, they were there to help these people.  The men walked Dardillien to the same stake that held the sheep and secured his chains to it, pushing him to the ground.
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After Dardillien was contained, he merely sat quietly while Illayia got the attention of the elder Dwarf and asked about the farmhouse they had seen up the road, as well as asking where the hine usually resides.  The Dwarf answered all the questions, informing them that the house belonged to the Stonemiller’s, the parents of the girl who had been killed, and that the hine usually resided in a cave west of the farmhouse.  Mozelle simply waved off the situation with Dardillien and explained that the rest of their group will go investigate the farmhouse, however the elder Dwarf still did not trust the members of House Stygian and had three of other Dwarves accompany the group to their destination.
As Mozelle led the group to the farmhouse, Illayia stopped and looked to Dardillien, “Shall one of us stay behind to make sure Dardillien is kept well?” 
“If you want.” Mozelle answered. With that, the others made their way out of the village while Illayia remained behind with Dardillien and the two Dwarves that stood guard over him.
"Bal'a dash. I see you have not used the familiar well." Illayia addressed Dardillien.
"What do you mean? I have used it a decent amount."
"You could have hidden away."
"I didn’t think to.  Besides, if I used it to go invisible when they began approaching that would have only caused more problems and suspicion..” He sighed, “ Anyways, you should go help the others, they may need you if worgen are involved.  I will be fine here."
"I would rather not leave you here completely undefended."
 A couple hours went by and the others had not returned, Dardillien lifted his head towards Illayia who looked around town as if counting and then she hummed quietly as she idly glanced toward the church.  She pursed her lips and waved a hand, the arcanist worked an old hat trick and made it sound as if a wolf were echoing from behind the church itself.The two Dwarves that stood by Dardillien turned their heads. The one who was actually alert, immediately got up and ran towards the back of the the church. The other, having been digging for gold in his nose, looked confused for a moment before huffing and puffing after the other guard. 
 Illayia moved to Dardillien's side and took his arm, helping him up to his feet, "Let us make haste. I can only throw the sound so far before they realize it is but an illusion."
Dardillien watched as the two Dwaves ran off to towards the church, confused by what was happening, he then shifts into his worgen form breaking he shackles that detained him and following Illayia out of the village to safety. He followed the Ren’dorei as they made their way back to their original location when they first arrived in the area through the portal.  Along the way Illayia explained the situation, and what the others had discovered in their investigation as Dilleana and Illayia had been communicating mentally through magic...
The others had gone to the Stonemiller’s farmhouse where they discovered the the young woman’s bedroom window had been left open, but her bed was all made, so they suspected that she had snuck out earlier in the night.  Their suspicion was correct, as the group discovered one of the Dwarves that had accompanied them was the woman’s lover, he had planned to meet her outside of the village and ask her to marry him, but he was held up working at his workshop and never showed made it.  Dilleana had found a splattering of blood and torn cloth while observing the area from the sky, she informed the others before leading them to it. Once there, Mia’kua, a Draenei priestess of the House, used her abilities to peak into the realm of spirits where she discovered the truth about what happened.  The young girl had been waiting for her lover to arrive when a worgen showed up and began to argue with her, Mia’kua was only to pick out bits and pieces, but heard the word “cheating” said and shortly afterwards the worgen went into a rage and killed the woman.
This meant two things.  First, the worgen was not feral like they believed but actually intelligent... Second, this meant it was out of their jurisdiction, and they could no longer help in the matter.  House Stygian was asked for help in the matter by the Cenarion Circle because they believed the issue was one involving nature such as a feral worgen, or pack of rabid wolves, etc.. however, this was just a case of murder, there was nothing they could do.  The decision was soon made to abort the mission, save Dardillien, and evacuate the area.
Illayia finished explaining while her and Dardillien arrived the original destination and they waited for the others to return.  This news upset Dardillien... he didn’t like that they were just running away, but they did not have a choice and he had to respect the decision, however he wished the worgen could have been brought to justice for the murder of the young woman..
Several minutes later the rest of the group arrived after losing the three Dwarves that had accompanied them, Illayia began waving her hands in the air before finally opening a portal to Stormwind, and one by one everyone entered the portal returning to the consulate.  Their mission a success and they did what they were asked to do, investigate the area and find out what kind of creature was plaguing the village.. However, Dardillien couldn’t help feel like they failed since the worgen was not brought to justice, as his services were no longer required he headed back to his townhouse to get some rest.
(Mentions @housestygian  This was a really fun event!  Again thank you to Dilleana for hosting it, and I hope I somewhat did it justice I wanted to do it from Dardillien’s perspective and so because of this I had to cut down all the investigation stuff since he ended up being detained which was not expected.  This post would have been much longer if I included everything.  Hahaha.)
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The Beautiful Daughter of Liu-Kung
In one of the central provinces of this long-lived Empire of China, there lived in very early times a man of the name of Chan. He was a person of a bright, active nature which made him enjoy life, and caused him to be popular amongst his companions and a favourite with every one who knew him. But he was also a scholar, well-versed in the literature of his country, and he spent every moment that he could spare in the study of the great writings of the famous men of former days.
In order that he might be interrupted as little as possible in his pursuit of learning, he engaged a room in a famous monastery some miles away from his own home. The only inhabitants of this monastery were a dozen or so of Buddhist priests, who, except when they were engaged in the daily services of the temple, lived a quiet, humdrum, lazy kind of existence which harmonized well with the solitude and the majestic stillness of the mountain scenery by which they were surrounded.
This monastery was indeed one of the most beautiful in China. It was situated on the slope of a hill, looking down upon a lovely valley, where the natural solitude was as complete as the most devoted hermit could desire. The only means of getting to it were the narrow hill footpaths along which the worshippers from the great city and the scattered villages wound in and out on festal days, when they came trooping to the temple to make their offerings to the famous God enshrined within.
Chan was a diligent student, and rarely indulged in recreation of any kind. Occasionally, when his mind became oppressed with excessive study he would go for a quiet walk along the hillside; but these occasions were few and far between, for he made up for every hour he spent away from his beloved books by still closer application to them in the hours that followed.
One day he was strolling in an aimless kind of way on the hillside, when suddenly a party of hunters from the neighbouring city of Eternal Spring came dashing into view. They were a merry group and full of excitement, for they had just sighted a fox which Chan had seen a moment before flying away at its highest speed in mortal dread of its pursuers.
Prominent amongst the hunters was a young girl, who was mounted on a fiery little steed, so full of spirit and so eager to follow in the mad chase after the prey, that its rider seemed to have some difficulty in restraining it. The girl herself was a perfect picture. Her face was the loveliest that Chan had ever looked upon, and her figure, which her trim hunting dress showed off to the utmost advantage, was graceful in the extreme. As she swept by him with her face flushed with excitement and her features all aglow with health, Chan felt at once that he had lost his heart and that he was deeply and profoundly in love with her.
On making enquiries, he found that she was named Willow, that she was the daughter of the chief mandarin of the town in which she lived, and that she was intensely fond of the chase and delighted in galloping over the hills and valleys in the pursuit of the wild animals to be found there. So powerfully had Chan’s mind been affected by what he had seen of Willow, that he had already begun to entertain serious thoughts of making her his wife; but while his mind was full of this delightful prospect he was plunged into the deepest grief by hearing that she had suddenly died. For some days he was so stricken with sorrow that he lost all interest in life, and could do nothing but dwell on the memory of her whom he had come to love with all the devotion of his heart.
A few weeks after the news of her death, the quiet of the retreat was one day broken by a huge procession which wound its way along the mountain path leading to the monastery doors. On looking out, Chan saw that many of the men in this procession were dressed in sackcloth, and that in front of it was a band of musicians producing weird, shrill notes on their various instruments.
By these signs Chan knew that what he saw was a funeral, and he expected to see the long line of mourners pass on to some spot on the hillside where the dead would be buried. Instead of that, however, they entered through the great gates of the monastery, and the coffin, the red pall of which told him that it contained the body of a woman, was carried into an inner room of the building and laid on trestles that had been made ready for it.
After the mourners had dispersed, Chan asked one of the priests the name of the woman who had died, and how it was that the coffin was laid within the precincts of the temple instead of in the house of the deceased, where it could be looked after by her relatives and where the customary sacrifices to the spirit of the dead could be offered more conveniently than in the monastery.
The bonze replied that this was a peculiar case, calling for special treatment.
“The father of the poor young girl who died so suddenly,” he said, “was the mandarin of the neighbouring city of Eternal Spring. Just after the death of his daughter an order came from the Emperor transferring him to another district, a thousand miles from here.
"The command was very urgent that he should proceed without delay to take up his post in the far-off province, and that he was to allow nothing to hinder him from doing so. He could not carry his daughter’s body with him on so long a journey, and no time was permitted him to take the coffin to his home, where she might be buried amongst her own kindred. It was equally impossible to deposit the coffin in the yamen he was about to leave, for the new mandarin who was soon to arrive would certainly object to have the body of a stranger in such close proximity to his family. It might bring him bad luck, and his career as an official might end in disaster.
"Permission was therefore asked from our abbot to allow the coffin to be placed in one of our vacant rooms, until the father some day in the future can come and bear the body of his beloved daughter to the home of his ancestors, there to be laid at rest amongst his own people.
"This request was readily granted, for whilst he was in office the mandarin showed us many favours, and his daughter was a beautiful girl who was beloved by everyone; and so we were only too glad to do anything in our power to help in this unhappy matter.”
Chan was profoundly moved when he realized that the woman whom he had loved as his own life lay dead within a chamber only a few steps away from his own. His passion, instead of being crushed out of his heart by the thought that she was utterly beyond his reach, and by no possibility could ever be more to him than a memory, seemed to grow in intensity as he became conscious that it was an absolutely hopeless one.
On that very same evening, about midnight, when silence rested on the monastery, and the priests were all wrapped in slumber, Chan, with a lighted taper in his hand, stole with noiseless footsteps along the dark passages into the chamber of death where his beloved lay. Kneeling beside the coffin with a heart full of emotion, in trembling accents he called upon Willow to listen to the story of his passion.
He spoke to her just as though she were standing face to face with him, and he told her how he had fallen in love with her on the day on which he had caught a glimpse of her as she galloped in pursuit of the fox that had fled through the valley from the hunters. He had planned, he told her, to make her his wife, and he described, in tones through which the tears could be heard to run, how heart-broken he was when he heard of her death.
“I want to see you,” he continued, “for I feel that I cannot live without you. You are near to me, and yet oh! how far away. Can you not come from the Land of Shadows, where you are now, and comfort me by one vision of your fair face, and one sound of the voice that would fill my soul with the sweetest music?”
For many months the comfort of Chan’s life was this nightly visit to the chamber where his dead love lay. Not a single night passed without his going to tell her of the unalterable and undying affection that filled his heart; and whilst the temple lay shrouded in darkness, and the only sounds that broke the stillness were those inexplicable ones in which nature seems to indulge when man is removed by sleep from the scene, Chan was uttering those love notes which had lain deeply hidden within his soul, but which now in the utter desolation of his heart burst forth to ease his pain by their mere expression.
One night as he was sitting poring over his books, he happened to turn round, and was startled to see the figure of a young girl standing just inside the door of his room. It seemed perfectly human, and yet it was so ethereal that it had the appearance of a spirit of the other world. As he looked at the girl with a wondering gaze, a smile lit up her beautiful features, and he then discovered to his great joy that she was none other than Willow, his lost love whom he had despaired of ever seeing again.
With her face wreathed in smiles, she sat down beside him and said in a timid, modest way:—"I am here to-night in response to the great love which has never faltered since the day I died. That is the magnet which has had the power of drawing me from the Land of Shadows. I felt it there, and many speak about it in that sunless country. Even Yam-lo, the lord of the spirits of that dreary world, has been moved by your unchanging devotion; so much so that he has given me permission to come and see you, in order that I might tell you how deeply my heart is moved by the profound affection that you have exhibited for me all these months during which you never had any expectation of its being returned.“
For many months this sweet intercourse between Chan and his beloved Willow was carried on, and no one in the whole monastery knew anything of it. The interviews always took place about midnight, and Willow, who seemed to pass with freedom through closed doors or the stoutest walls, invariably vanished during the small hours of the morning.
One evening whilst they were conversing on topics agreeable to them both, Willow unburdened her heart to Chan, and told him how unhappy she was in the world of spirits.
"You know,” she said, “that before I died I was not married, and so I am only a wandering spirit with no place where I can rest, and no friends to whom I can betake myself. I travel here and there and everywhere, feeling that no one cares for me, and that there are no ties to bind me to any particular place or thing. For a young girl like me, this is a very sad and sorrowful state of things.
"There is another thing that adds to my sorrow in the Land of Shadows,” she went on to say, with a mournful look on her lovely countenance. “I was very fond of hunting when I was in my father’s home, and many a wild animal was slain in the hunting expeditions in which I took an active part. This has all told against me in the world in which I am now living, and for the share I took in destroying life I have to suffer by many pains and penalties which are hard for me to endure.
"My sin has been great,” she said, “and so I wish to make special offerings in this temple to the Goddess of Mercy and implore her to send down to the other world a good report of me to Yam-lo, and intercede with him to forgive the sins of which I have been guilty. If you will do this for me, I promise that after I have been born again into the world I will never forget you, and if you like to wait for me I shall willingly become your wife and serve you with the deepest devotion of which my heart is capable, as long as Heaven will permit you and me to live together as husband and wife.”
From this time, much to the astonishment of the priests in the monastery, Chan began to show unwonted enthusiasm for the service of the Goddess, and would sometimes spend hours before her image and repeat long prayers to her. This was all the more remarkable, as the scholar had rarely if ever shown any desire to have anything to do with the numerous gods which were enshrined in various parts of the temple.
After some months of this daily appeal to the Goddess of Mercy, Willow informed him that his prayers had been so far successful that the misery of her lot in the Land of Shadows had been greatly mitigated. The pleadings of the Goddess with Yam-lo had so influenced his heart towards Willow that she believed her great sin in the destruction of animal life had been forgiven, and there were signs that the dread ruler of the Underworld was looking upon her with kindness.
Chan was delighted with this news, and his prayers and offerings became still more frequent and more fervent. He little dreamed that his devotion to the Goddess would be the means of his speedy separation from Willow, but so it was. One evening she came as usual to see him, but instead of entering with smiling face and laughter in her eyes, she was weeping bitterly as though she were in the direst sorrow.
Chan was in the greatest distress when he saw this and asked her to explain the reason for her grief. “The reason for my tears,” she said, “is because after this evening I shall not see you again. Your petitions to the Goddess have had such a powerful effect upon her mind that she has used all her influence with Yam-lo to induce him to set me free from the misery of the Land of Shadows, and so I am to leave that sunless country and to be born again into life in this upper world.”
As she uttered these words her tears began to flow once more and her whole frame was convulsed with sobbing.
“I am glad,” she said, “that I am to be born once more and live amongst men, but I cannot bear the thought of having to be separated for so long from you. Let us not grieve too much, however. It is our fate, and we may not rebel against it. Yam-lo has been kinder to me than he has ever been to any one in the past, for he has revealed to me the family into which I am to be born and the place where they live, so if you come to me in eighteen years you will find me waiting for you. Your love has been so great that it has entered into my very soul, and there is nothing that can ever efface it from my heart. A thousand re-births may take place, but never shall I love any one as I love you.”
Chan professed that he was greatly comforted by this confession of her love, but all the same he felt in despair when he thought of the future.
“When next I shall see you,” he said with a sigh, “I shall be getting so old that you, a young girl in the first flush of womanhood, will not care to look at me. My hair will have turned grey and my face will be marked with wrinkles, and in the re-birth you will have forgotten all that took place in the Land of Shadows, and the memory of me will have vanished from your heart for ever.”
Willow looked with loving but sorrowful eyes upon her lover as he was expressing his concern about the future, but quickly assured him that nothing in the world would ever cause her to cease to remember him with the tenderest affection.
“In order to comfort you,” she said, “let me tell you of two things that the dread Yam-lo, out of consideration for your love for me, has granted me—two things which he has never bestowed upon any other mortal who has come within the region of his rule. The first is, he has allowed me to inspect the book of Life and Death, in which is recorded the history of every human being, with the times of their re-births and the places in which they are to be born. I want you this very minute to write down the secret which has been revealed to me as to my new name and family and the place where I shall reside, so that you will have no difficulty in finding me, when eighteen years hence you shall come to claim me as your wife.
"The next is a gift so precious that I have no words in which to express my gratitude for its having been bestowed upon me. It is this. I am given the privilege of not forgetting what has taken place during my stay in the Land of Shadows, and so when I am re-born into another part of China, with a new father and mother, I shall hold within my memory my recollection of you. The years will pass quickly, for I shall be looking for you, and this day eighteen years hence will be the happiest in my life, for it will bring you to me never more to be separated from me.
"But I must hasten on,” she hurriedly exclaimed, “for the footsteps of fate are moving steadily towards me. In a few minutes the gates of Hades will have closed against me, and Willow will have vanished, and I shall be a babe once more with my new life before me. See, but a minute more is left me, and I seem to have so much to say. Farewell! Never forget me! I shall ever remember you, but my time is come!”
As she uttered these words, a smile of ineffable sweetness flashed across, her beautiful face, and she was gone.
Chan was inexpressibly sad at the loss he had sustained by the re-birth of Willow, and in order to drive away his sorrow he threw his heart and soul into his studies. His books became his constant companions, and he tried to find in them a solace for the loneliness which had come upon him since the visits of Willow had ceased. He also became a diligent worshipper of the idols, and especially of the Goddess of Mercy, who had played such an important part in the history of his beloved Willow.
The years went slowly by, and Chan began to feel that he was growing old. His hair became dashed with silver threads, and wrinkles appeared in his forehead and under his eyes. The strain of waiting for the one woman who had taken complete possession of his heart had been too much for him. As the time drew near, too, when he should go to meet her, a great and nervous dread began to fill him with anxiety. Would she recognize him? And would she, a young girl of eighteen, be content to accept as a husband a man so advanced in years as he now was? These questions were constantly flashing through his brain.
At last only a few months remained before he was to set out on his journey to the distant province where Yam-lo had decided that Willow was to begin her new life on earth.
He was sitting one evening in his study, brooding over the great problem that would be solved before long, when a man dressed in black silently entered the room. Looking on Chan with a kindly smile which seemed to find its way instantly to his heart, he informed him that he was a fairy from the Western Heaven and that he had been specially deputed by the rulers there to render him all the assistance in his power at this particular crisis, when they knew his heart was so full of anxiety.
“We have all heard in that far-off fairyland,” he continued, “of the devotion you have shown to Willow, and how during all the years which have intervened since you saw her last you have never faltered in your love for her. Such affection is rare among mortals, and the dwellers in fairyland would like to help in bringing together two such loving hearts; for let me assure you that however strong your feeling for the one whom you are so anxious to see again, she on her part is just as deeply in love with you, and is now counting the days until she will be able to see you and until you need never again be parted from each other. In order to assist in this happy consummation, I want you to take a short trip with me. It will only take a few hours, and you will then find that something has happened to remove all your fears as to how you will be received by Willow.”
The fairy man then led Chan to the door, and gave a wave of his hand in the direction of the sky. Instantly the sound of the fluttering and swish of wings was heard, and in a moment a splendid eagle landed gracefully at their feet. Taking their seats upon its back, they found themselves flashing at lightning speed away through the darkness of the night. Higher and higher they rose, till they had pierced the heavy masses of clouds which hung hovering in the sky. Swift as an arrow the eagle still cleft its way upward until the clouds had vanished to an infinite distance below them; and still onward they were borne in the mighty stillness of an expanse where no human being had ever travelled before.
Chan felt his heart throb with a nervousness which he could not control. What if the bird should tire, he thought, and he should be dropped into the fathomless abyss below? Life’s journey would then come to a tragic end. Where, too, was he being carried and how should he be ever able to return to his far-off home on the earth? He was becoming more and more agitated, when the fairy took hold of his hand and in a voice which at once stilled his fears, assured him that there was not the least danger in this journey through the air.
“We are as safe here,” he assured him, “as though we were standing upon a mountain whose roots lie miles below the surface of the earth. And see,” he continued, pointing to something in the distance, “we shall arrive at our destination in the course of a few seconds.”
True enough, he had hardly finished speaking when a land, fairer than Chan had ever seen on earth or pictured in imagination, loomed up suddenly in front of them; and before he could gather together his astonished thoughts, the eagle had landed them on its shores, and with outspread wings was soaring into the mystery of the unknown beyond.
The fairy now led Chan along a road surrounded by the most bewildering beauty. Rare flowers, graceful trees, and birds which made the groves resound with the sweetest music, were objects that kept his mind in one continual state of delight. Before long they arrived in front of a magnificent palace, so grand and vast that Chan felt afraid to enter within its portals, or even tread the avenue leading up to it.
Once more his companion relieved Chan’s anxiety by assuring him that he was an expected guest, and that the Queen of this fairy country had sent him to earth specially to invite him to come and visit her, in order that she might bestow upon him a blessing which would enrich the whole of his life and would enable him to spend many happy years with her whom he had loved with such devotion.
Chan was ushered into a large reception hall, where he was met by a very stately lady, with a face full of benevolence, whom he at once recognized, from the images he had often worshipped, as the Goddess of Mercy. He was startled when he discovered in what august presence he was standing, and began to tremble with excitement as he realized that here in actual life was the famous personage whose image was worshipped by the millions of China, and whose influence spread even into the Land of Shadows.
Seeing Chan’s humility and evident terror of her, the Goddess spoke to him in a gentle, loving voice, and told him to have no fear, for she had summoned him to her presence not to rebuke but to comfort him.
“I know your story,” she said, “and I think it is a beautiful one. Before I was raised to the high position I now occupy I was at one time a woman like Willow, and I can sympathize with her in her devotion to you because of the wonderful love you have shown her from the first moment that you saw her.
"I know, too, your anxiety about your age, and your fear lest when Willow sees you with the marks of advancing years upon you, her love may die out and you will be left with your heart broken and in despair. I have foreseen this difficulty, and I am going to have it removed.
"The fairy who brought you here,” she continued, “will now take you round the palace grounds, and if you will carry out my wishes, the fears which have been troubling you for years shall entirely vanish. You will then meet Willow with a heart as light as that of any man in the flush of youth, who awaits the coming of the bridal chair which bears his future wife to his home.”
Chan at once, without any hesitation, followed his guide through the spacious grounds which surrounded the palace, and was finally led to the edge of a beautiful little lake embowered amongst trees and ferns, and rare and fragrant flowers. It was the most exquisite scene on which his vision had ever rested.
With a kindly look at his companion, the fairy said, “This beautiful piece of water goes by the name of the ‘Fountain of Eternal Youth,’ and it is the Queen’s express desire that you should bathe in it.”
Quickly undressing, Chan plunged into the pool and for a moment sank beneath the surface of the waters. Emerging quickly from them, a delightful feeling of new-born strength seemed to be creeping in at every pore of his body. The sense of advancing age passed away, and the years of youth appeared to come back to him again. He felt as though he were a young man once more; for the weary doubts, which for some years past had made his footsteps lag, had gone with his first plunge into those fragrant waters.
By-and-by he came out of this “Fountain of Eternal Youth” with the visions and ambitions of his young manhood rushing through his brain. His powers, which seemed of late to have become dull and sluggish, had recovered the impetus which in earlier years had carried him so successfully through many a severe examination. His thoughts, too, about Willow had so completely changed that instead of dreading the day when he should stand before her, his one passionate desire now was to start upon his journey to keep his appointment with her.
Chan and the fairy then proceeded to the edge of the vast and boundless expanse which bordered the palace of the Goddess, and found a magnificent dragon waiting to convey them back to earth. No sooner had they taken their seats on its back than it fled with the swiftness of the wind through the untrodden spaces of the air, until at length the mountains came looming out of the dim and shadowy distance, and with a rush Chan found himself safely landed at the door of the temple from which he had taken his departure for his amazing journey to the Western Heaven.
Whilst these wonderful things were taking place, Willow—or rather Precious Pearl, as she had been named by her new parents, who of course had no knowledge of her previous history—had grown up to be a most beautiful and fascinating woman.
During all these years she had never ceased to look forward with an anxious heart to the day when she would once more meet the man to whom she had betrothed herself eighteen years ago. Latterly she had begun to count the days that must still elapse before she could see him again. She never forgot the night in the temple when she bade him “Good-bye” just before she was reborn into this world. The day and the hour had been stamped upon her memory, and since then the years had seemed to travel with halting, leaden feet, as though they were loth to move on. But now only a few months remained, and no doubt ever entered her brain that Chan would fail her.
Just about this time her mother had an offer of marriage for her from a very wealthy and distinguished family, and contrary to the usual custom of mothers in China she asked her daughter what she thought of the proposal. Pearl was distressed beyond measure, and prayed and entreated her mother on no account to broach the subject to her again, as she could never entertain any proposition of the kind.
Amazed at such a statement, her mother begged her to explain her reason for such strange views. “Girls at your age,” she said, “are usually betrothed and are thinking of having homes of their own. This is the universal custom throughout the Empire, and therefore there must be some serious reason why you will not allow me to make arrangements for your being allied to some respectable family.”
Pearl had been feeling that the time was drawing near when she would have to divulge the secret of her love affair, and she considered that now was the best opportunity for doing so. To the astonishment therefore of her mother, who believed that she was romancing, she told her the whole story of the past; how Chan had fallen in love with her, and how after she had died and had come under the control of Yam-lo in the Land of Shadows, that dread lord had permitted her spirit to visit her lover in the temple where her body had been laid until a lucky resting-place could be found for it on the hillside. She also explained how it had been agreed between them that she was to wait for him until after the lapse of eighteen years, when she would be old enough to become his wife. “In a few months the time will be up,” she concluded, “and so I beseech you not to speak of my being betrothed to any one else, for I feel that if I am compelled to marry any other than Chan I shall die.”
The mother was thunderstruck at this wonderful story which her daughter told her. She could only imagine that Pearl had in some way or another been bewitched, and was under a fatal delusion that she was in love with some hero of romance, to whom she believed she was betrothed. Still, her daughter had always been most loving and devoted to her, and had shown more brightness and ability than Chinese girls of her age usually possessed. Her mother did not like, therefore, to reprove her for what she considered her ridiculous ideas, so she determined to try another plan to cure her of her folly.
“What age was this man Chan,” she asked, “when you entered into this engagement with him?”
“He was just thirty,” Pearl replied. “He was of very good family and a scholar, and had distinguished himself for his proficiency in the ancient literature of China.”
“Oh! then he must be nearly fifty now. A fine mate he would make for you, a young girl of only eighteen! But who knows how he may have changed since last you saw him? His hair must be turning grey, and his teeth may have fallen out; and for anything you know he may have been dead and buried so long ago that by this time they have taken up his bones, and nothing is left of him but what the funeral urn may contain of his ashes.”
“Oh! I do pray that nothing of that kind has happened to him,” cried Pearl, in a tone of voice which showed the anguish she was suffering. “Let us leave the question for a few months, and then when he comes for me, as I know he will, you will find by personal knowledge what a splendid man he is, and how entirely worthy he is of being your son-in-law.”
On the day which had been appointed under such romantic circumstances eighteen years before, Chan arrived in the town, and after taking a room in an inn and making certain enquiries, he made his way to the home where he believed that Willow resided. On his arrival, however, he was roughly told by the servant that no such person as Willow lived there, and that they did not like strangers coming about the house. Indeed he was given plainly to understand that the sooner he left, the better everyone would be pleased. This treatment was of course part of a scheme devised by Pearl’s parents to frustrate any plans that Chan might have formed for seeing her. They were determined not to give their daughter to a man so old as he must be, and therefore they decided that an interview between the two must be prevented at all hazards.
Chan was greatly distressed at the rebuff which he had received. Had Willow after all made a mistake eighteen years ago when she gave him the name of this town as the place where her new home was to be? He had carefully written it down at her dictation, and it had been burned into his brain all the years since. No, there could be no mistake on that point. If there were any, then it was one that had been made purposely by Yam-lo in order to deceive them both. That idea, however, was unthinkable, and so there must be something else to account for his not finding Willow as he had expected. He at once made enquiries at the inn at which he was staying, and found that there was a daughter at the very house to which he had gone, and that in almost every particular the description he was given of her corresponded with his beloved Willow.
In the meantime, poor Pearl was in a state of the greatest anxiety. The eventful day on which she was to meet her lover had opened for her with keen expectation of meeting him after their long and romantic separation. She had never for one moment doubted that he would keep his engagement with her. An instinct which she could not explain made her feel certain that he was still alive, and that nothing in the world would prevent him from meeting her, as had been agreed upon between them at that eventful parting in the temple eighteen years before.
As the day wore on, however, and there were no signs of Chan, Pearl’s distress became exceedingly pitiful; and when night came and her mother declared that nothing had been seen of him, she was so stricken with despair that she lost all consciousness, and had to be carried to bed, where she lay in a kind of trance from which, for some time, it seemed impossible to arouse her.
When at last she did regain consciousness, her mother tried to comfort her by saying that perhaps Chan was dead, or that he had forgotten her in the long course of years, and that therefore she must not grieve too much. “You are a young girl,” she said, “and you have a long life before you. Chan is an old man by this time; no doubt he has long ago married, and the home ties which he has formed have caused him to forget you. But you need not be broken-hearted on that account. There are many other men who will be more suitable for you than he could possibly be. By-and-by we shall arrange a marriage for you, and then life will appear to you very different from what it does now.”
Instead of being comforted, however, Pearl was only the more distressed by her mother’s words. Her love, which had begun in the Land of Shadows, and which had been growing in her heart for the last eighteen years, was not one to be easily put aside by such plausible arguments as those she had just listened to. The result was that she had a relapse, and for several days her life was in great danger.
The father and mother, fearing now that their daughter would die, determined, as there seemed no other remedy, to bring Chan to their home, and see whether his presence would not deliver Pearl from the danger in which the doctor declared she undoubtedly was.
The father accordingly went to the inn where he knew Chan was staying, and to his immense surprise he found him to be a young man of about twenty-five, highly polished in manner, and possessed of unusual intelligence. For some time he utterly refused to believe that this handsome young fellow was really the man with whom Pearl was so deeply in love, and it was not until Chan had told him the romantic story of his life that he could at all believe that he was not being imposed upon. Eventually, however, he was so taken with Chan that he became determined to do all in his power to bring about his marriage with his daughter.
“Come with me at once,” he said, “and see if your presence will not do more than the cleverest doctors in the town have been able to accomplish. Pearl has been so distressed at not seeing you that she is now seriously ill, and we have been afraid that she would die of a broken heart.”
When they arrived at the house Chan was taken into the sick-room, and the girl gazed into his face with a look of wonderment. “I do not seem to recognize you,” she said in a feeble voice. “You are much younger than Chan, and although there is something about you that reminds me of him, I cannot realize that you are the same person with whom my spirit eighteen years ago held fellowship in the monastery where my body lay unburied.”
Chan proceeded to explain the mystery. “For years,” he said, “my mind was troubled about the difference between our ages. I was afraid that when you saw me with grey hairs and with wrinkles on my face, your love would receive a shock, and you might regret that you had ever pledged yourself to me. Although you had vanished from my sight, my prayers still continued to be offered to the Goddess of Mercy. She had heard them for you, you remember, when you were in the Land of Shadows, and through her intercession Yam-lo had forgiven your sins, and had made life easier for you in that gloomy country.
"I still continued to pray to her, hoping in some vague way that she would intervene to bring about the desire of my heart, and that when in due time I should meet you again, every obstacle to our mutual love would be for ever removed.
"One day a fairy came into the very room where your spirit had often conversed with me. He carried me away with him to the Western Heaven and brought me into the very presence of the Goddess of Mercy. She gave directions for me to bathe in the 'Fountain of Eternal Youth,’ and I became young again. That is why you see me now with a young face and a young nature, but my heart in its love for you has never changed, and never will as long as life lasts.”
As he was telling this entrancing story, a look of devoted love spread over the beautiful countenance of Pearl. She gradually became instinct with life, and before he had finished speaking, the lassitude and exhaustion which had seemed to threaten her very life entirely disappeared. A rosy look came over her face, and her coal-black eyes flashed with hidden fires.
“Now I know,” she cried, “that you are Chan. You are so changed that when I first caught sight of you my heart sank within me, for I had pictured an older man, and I could not at once realize that you were the same Chan who showed such unbounded love for me in the years gone by.
"It was not that I should have loved you less even though you had really been older. My heart would never have changed. It was only my doubt as to your reality that made me hesitate, but now my happiness is indeed great; for since through the goodness of the Goddess you have recovered your youth, I need not fear that the difference between our years may in the near future bring to us an eternal separation.”
In a few days Pearl was once more herself again. Her parents, delighted with the romantic turn that things had taken and highly pleased with Chan himself, arranged for the betrothal of their daughter to him; and in the course of a few months, the loving couple were united in marriage. And so, after years of waiting, the happy consummation was accomplished, which Heaven and the Goddess of Mercy and even the dread Ruler of the Land of Shadows had each taken a share in bringing about; and for many and many a long year the story of Chan and his wife was spread abroad throughout the region in which they lived.
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darlingpeter · 7 years
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revelation. (part 2)
this is the second part of @elenoranave‘s request where after reader finds out that matt is daredevil, she tries to help and almost gets herself killed! luckily daredevil comes to save the day and there’s some fluff that follows! 
(read part 1 here)
pairing: matt murdock x reader
warnings: some mentioned violence and swearing
length: 1587 words
Trying to keep up with Daredevil in secret was no easy task.
Matt was no help whatsoever, as he kept to himself a lot more since you found out about his vigilantism, but you managed to do some useful digging yourself thanks to some acquaintances who worked in local journalism. It was because of this that you were able to find information on a drug cartel led by a man that they called “Sabretooth” that had been involved in a few murders that had taken place around the area.
It’s because of this that you found yourself at the wharf near midnight. You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself as a sudden gust of wind caused you to shiver. Focusing on making your footfalls as gentle as possible, you crept between the storage containers that were scattered around the shipyard, searching for any sign of activity in the otherwise abandoned place.
You rounded a corner to see the group but immediately dashed back to cover before they could see you. They were standing around in a circle, the gathering illuminated by the headlights of two trucks. Your hands were shaky as you pulled out your phone, starting to dial the police department. Maybe if the police arrived before Matt did, they would be able to do their job before the vigilante would ever have to intervene.
However, you were only able to dial the first few numbers before you felt a blunt object press harshly into the small of your back and heard the sharp cocking of a gun.
You froze, immediately feeling sick to your stomach. “Drop the phone, darling.” A distinctly male voice said from behind you, and you cringed at the pet-name. The sound made your skin crawl, a harsh voice that was lowered to a gravelly purr, one that sounded unnatural and forced. You let your phone slip through your fingers, landing on the concrete ground with a betraying clack of plastic.
He let out a pleased huff of breath before he twisted your left arm behind your back and jabbed the barrel of the gun into your lower spine, causing you to wince and move forward out of the cover of the crate you were hiding behind. “I found a hero!” He called, which got the attention of the others. You received sneers and a few chuckles as you were forced forward until you were right next to the group.
One man stepped forward, and you recognized him from the mugshots that they had been flashing over the news in the last few weeks: Sabretooth. He was tall and gaunt, looming over you with long hair that was tied back and a tattoo of a black ‘x’ on one cheekbone. “You thought you were gonna cry wolf, weren’t you, sugar?” He grinned, revealing that all four of his canines were plated gold. You shuddered. “Too bad we can’t leave you alive. You’re such a pretty little thing.” He crooned.
Feeling disgust rise like bile in your throat, you gave a hiss of “fuck you” and spat into his ugly face. As he stumbled backward, your arm was wrenched at an even more painful angle, causing you to cry out as the man behind you used his hold on you to force you to your knees. Sabretooth came forward once more to kick you in the stomach, causing you to double over with a pained wheeze. “Fucking bitch.” He snarled, wiping the saliva from his face.
The man who had the gun pressed to your back then had it mere inches from the back of your head. You didn’t need to feel it press to your skull in order to know that it was there, you could sense the weighted presence of it behind you. It was at that moment that it really set in how futile continuing to struggle was, especially when you were so outnumbered and unarmed.
“Wasn’t planning on making a martyr tonight.” Sabretooth shrugged. “But desperate times, gentlemen. Do what you have to do.”
You took a deep breath, anticipating the inevitable end.
But it didn’t come.
What did come was a grunt of the henchman behind you, as if someone had hit him, and then the gun was going off near your left ear. It sent you reeling, falling onto your side on the ground as your head rang painfully.
You curled into the fetal position, your eyes squeezed shut and half convinced that you were already dead because you couldn’t see or hear anything around you. However, when you opened your eyes you were confronted with the view of a familiar red suit.
Daredevil was taking down the thugs left and right, and in all of the confusion, you gathered your bearings the best that you could to get yourself out of harm’s way. You stood on shaky legs and managed to dash back behind the storage container you were hiding out behind before you were caught and grabbed a piece of rebar that you could use in self defense.
The ringing in your ears didn’t cease, and neither did the pounding in your head, but you had started to be able to make out yelling and muffled gunshots. You were so scared and so out of your element that you felt as if you couldn’t breathe, and you gripped the piece of rebar in your hands like your life depended on it.
When you spotted a figure approaching from around the storage container, you raised the bar over your head, ready to swing at whatever thug came around the corner next, and as soon as you saw the figure round the corner, you swung down as hard as you could. However, your wrist was caught in a firm grip and the rebar was taken from your hands like it was nothing.
With a cry of anguish, you opened your eyes and were met with a pair of all-too-familiar brown eyes.
“It’s me, sweetheart, it’s me. Take it easy.” Matt said, his mask dangling from one of his hands. You were barely able to make out his words with all of the noise in your head, but what you did hear made you collapse forward into his solid chest, tears rolling freely down your cheeks.
“You’re ok, you’re ok.” He held you close, petting your hair as you cried into his chest. “Let’s get you out of here, the cops should be here any minute.”
~
You were still shaking as you sat on the kitchen counter, watching as Matt carefully bandaged your scraped-up knees. The silence had been tense, broken only by your soft breathing and the sound of the traffic outside.
He left briefly to put away the bandages and antiseptic he had used, and when he came back, he pulled at the hem of your shirt. “He kicked you. Take this off.” He demanded quietly, and you did as you were told, wincing as you lifted your arms up above your head. He let out a slow breath and a frown as he gently let his fingers skim over your abdomen, already hot with a bruise starting to form. “Jesus, Y/N.” He murmured, lightly putting pressure on each of your ribs to make sure that none were broken, and you winced. After concluding that nothing was broken, Matt helped you put on your shirt and then stood facing the counter, bracing his hands against it and hanging his head down.
“Are you mad at me?” You asked quietly, gingerly hopping off of the counter and placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Of course I’m not mad, I just…” He hung his head further and sighed. “That was way too close. What were you even thinking?”
“I had to do something, Matthew. You couldn’t take on a gang like that alone.”
In a split second, he had turned toward you and gripped your shoulders. “I’ve been doing it alone for years, Y/N!” He said, his voice raised in the otherwise quiet space. “Tonight was way too close. You were seconds away from getting a bullet through the skull, and you call that helping?”
“I was trying to call the police-”
“I almost lost you!” He bellowed, and you flinched, but in his eyes, you saw no anger. You saw fear, desperation, helplessness. It was the first time that you had ever seen sheer terror ever cross his features. “If I had been there a second later, I would’ve been too late, and you would’ve died.” There were tears rolling down his cheeks now, and his calloused hands cupped your cheeks so you knew that he could feel the first ones fall from your eyes. “I love you, Y/N. I love you so much, but never try to do anything like that again. I can’t lose you, especially to all of the shit that I get involved in.”
“But I need someone to help you come home, Matt. I need to know that you have a safety net out there.”
Matt gave a watery laugh, letting the corners of his mouth turn up into a smile. “Sweetheart, you are my safety net.” He breathed. “You’ve always been. If anything goes wrong, the only thing I know is that I need to come home to you. You bring me back every time.”
You choked out a sob and surged forward to wrap him in a hug, and he returned it, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll always be there for you.” You promised.
“I’m counting on it, sweetheart.”
[a/n: as always, please tell me what you thought of this! I’ll be checking my inbox, my messages, reblogs, and tags left on this story for feedback! my requests are open, though classes have started so it might take me a bit to get to all of them! thank you guys so much for reading!! :-) ]
tags:  @howlingbarnes  @rotisserierogers @maybe-mikala  @mskittystanley
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mistajsqueen-blog · 7 years
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Ghost!
anonymous asked:
Joker x reader with prompts 93 & 140? :)
“Are you high?” “I swear my house is haunted.”
warnings: marijuana use, slight paranormal activity
word count: 1,000
masterlist
I walk through the large house that J and I live in together. Even though I've been here for over a year now, the winding hallways and countless doors always confuse me, and I get lost.
Making my way down one of the many long, skinny hallways, I smell an all too familiar smell. I push open the large, wooden double doors and step into J's office. He's sitting on his desk, surrounded by papers, smoking a rather large and fat joint. 
 "Hey, doll face, want a hit?" He ask, holding out the joint to me while blowing a puff of smoke into the air. I roll my eyes and take the it from him, holding it with my thumb and pointer finger, and place it to my mouth. I inhale, ignoring the burning sensation in the back of my throat and my chest. I blow the smoke out through my nose and hand it back to J. 
 "Since when do you smoke weed?" I ask, letting out a few coughs. Whatever strand he has, it's a strong one.
 "I always have, I just stopped when you moved in because I wasn't... sure if you would be okay with it." He passes the joint back to me. I inhale. 
"I used to smoke all the time before you came around." I say as I blow the smoke into his face. He smiles, taking the joint back and inhales a large amount of smoke. He grabs my face and brings my lips to his, blowing the smoke from his mouth to mine. I inhale once more, and blow the smoke above me.
It had been about 30 minutes, and we had finished smoking the joint together. J was sitting on the luxurious couch in his office, and I had my head in his lap. 
"Can I say something... crazy?" He asks, stroking my hair.
 "Everything you say is crazy." I laugh, looking up at him. He laughs back. 
"Well... this may be a little more crazy than usual." 
 "What is it?" I ask, now intrigued by his serious tone. 
 "I swear this house is haunted." He says, and even though he seems dead ass serious, I can't help but to burst out in laughter. 
 "What makes you say that?" I say in between cackles. 
 "At night, I'll always hear footsteps and banging on the walls." He pauses. "Just this morning when I woke up before you, all the cabinets in the kitchen were wide open." I sit up, staring at him. 
 "You have to be joking." I say. "It must be Frost pulling your leg." 
 "I don't think it is." He says, looking me right in the eye. "I re-" 
 Just then, a loud knocking starts on the door to the office. J stands, looking back at me with an annoyed look on his face. He swings the door open, ready to bitch at whoever just interrupted him, but he's taken aback when no one is there. He peeks his head out the threshold, looking down both ends of the hallway. 
 "No one's there." He says, slamming the door shut and scurrying back over to his seat on the couch. 
 "I really think Frost is just fucking with you, puddin'." I rub his arm in an attempt to comfort him when I notice the slight fear in his eyes. "Are you that scared of 'ghosts'?" I ask. 
 "Supernatural things freak me out." He says, wrapping his arms around me asked pulling me into his lap. He buries his head in my chest, as if my tits are going to protect him from any harm. 
 "I think we should stay up all night tonight and walk around the house to see if anything happens." I suggest, running my hand along the back of his head. 
"We're not splitting up." He says, gripping onto me harder. 
 "Why not?" I chuckle quietly at his sudden fear. He's the Joker, he shouldn't be afraid of anything. 
 "I don't wanna be alone." 
 It was now a little after midnight, and Frost and every other henchmen who stayed in the house was asleep already. I was sitting in the living room, waiting for J to come downstairs. There's no way this house could be haunted, J had it constructed and a few years ago, and no one had ever died in it. I think he really is just hallucinating all this "ghost" stuff. 
 I hear J coming down the staircase, and I turn to smile at him, but to my surprise no one was there. The footsteps still continue, and the hairs on my arms and back of my neck rise. My heartbeat picks up. I stand up and run into the kitchen, hiding in the large pantry. 
 I stay there for a minute or two, and the footsteps walk past the door. They continue on into a hallway, but I still don't move. I hear more footsteps coming down the stairs, but this time I hear J calling out my name. 
 "(Y/N)?" He shouts. I open the door and dash into the living room, running right into his arms. 
 "There were footsteps coming down the stairs, but no one was there. I got scared and hid in the pantry." It was his turn to laugh at me now. I hit him in the chest. "Don't laugh at me! It was scary..." I pout. 
 "Oh, baby doll, come here." He picks me up and sits on the couch, with me in his lap. "Daddy's got you." He coos in an almost mocking tone, and I hit him on the chest again. 
 "Stop it, you got scared too." I say, climbing off his lap and sitting beside him, my arms folded over my chest and the pout still on my lips. He begins to laugh at me again, but that's cut short when a vase on the mantle falls off and breaks. 
We both race to the door and barrel out of the house, both screaming "Ghost!"
I’m sorry it’s been forever since I uploaded! 
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