#calling him just 'the professor' is bizarre to me but i have seen people do it!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lavishedinjimin · 3 years

Text

Hickeys 101 -> dilf!jjk

— synopsis: After Jungkook catches you messing around with another boy, he was determined to teach you a lesson you'll only learn from a father... well, step-father.

↳ pairing: dilf jungkook x f.reader

↳ genre: smut/angst

↳ rating: 18+

↳ word count: 8.6k

↳ warnings: step-dad jungkook, AGE GAP, all characters are in legal age, D/S, daddy kink, condescension, degradation, they’re both toxic and mean, mind manipulation, Jungkook puts OC in subspace, face fucking, spitting, usage of a belt, unprotected sex (ya’ll know the drill already!), little aftercare

A/N: this fic is not suitable for all audiences. If you are easily offended and are sensitive to the warnings stated above, this might not be for you. reminder that the events in this story are purely made up and fictional.

Living with no one else other than your profoundly distant stepdad during lockdown – where you can’t escape, where you can’t go anywhere – is much harder than this zoom class you’re attending.

“I'm so exhausted,” you mutter beneath your breath, rolling your eyes to the back of your head for your brain hurts from your Econ professor’s infuriating voice.

Most of the time you are shuffling endlessly from how uncomfortable the wooden chair in this dining area is. With your laptop placed in front of you, the blue light surely ruining your eyes, you tirelessly listen to the lecture as much as your brain could wield.

But your attention span isn't as great as most people.

Completely losing your focus on the class after two minutes, you turn your attention to your stepdad working his way to the kitchen.

“Can you put a goddamn shirt on?” you huff, a tinge of irritation in your voice.

He passes by you with a swift glance.

“How are you doing?” Jungkook asks, utterly ignoring your complaint.

“Since when did you care?” You place your chin on top of your palm, stopping your urges to not look at his exposed torso. His sleeve of tattoos was undeniably eye-catching, but you were too petty to go a have a normal conversation with him.

Jungkook, on the other hand, was used to your sharp tongue. He knew you didn’t like him ever since he started to date your mom. But now that he was technically your parent, he has all the right to correct you and put you in your place.

“You know I don’t like that tone, missy.” Jungkook stretches out his words, sounding stern. But you just sarcastically laugh him off.

As your stepdad was making some food in the kitchen, the class grew longer and more monotonous than ever. You were never the type to pay attention in class, and neither did it help that the school decided to move to online learning. Now you’re truly failing school.

“Jung—dad,” you sigh, realizing that his exposed back can almost be seen on your front camera’s screen, “can you scoot back a little? They can see you on-cam.”

“Nope.”

Jungkook chuckles at the way you grunt as he continues to make his avocado toast.

“Oh come on—” Jungkook teasingly shows the rest of his behind to the camera, not caring at all that your professor and classmates can see. “Give them a little show.”

“No!” immediately, you close your camera before swiftly turning your head to his direction, “Can you just stop? Okay? I’m trying to pay attention and you’re not helping!” You yell, banging your fist on the wooden table.

“I’m so tired, dad. Can you just go away?!”

He replies with his back still facing you, “Maybe if you asked a little nicer than that, little girl.”

With a complete shock to the words he used, you found yourself blushing in red while your eyes slowly expand. Your body's reaction from that single sentence was intoxicating. Your class was now forgotten and your professor's voice became white noise.

“W-What did you just call me?” You didn’t expect your tone to be as soft as it seemed.

Jungkook finally flips around to face you. He scans you, taking a good look at you as he crosses his arms together.

You couldn't dismiss that the way he looked at you made you feel something. Something that you’ve never experienced before.

“I called you little girl. That’s what you are, right?” he sneers, “A little girl who thinks she can talk to her father so impolitely.”

It was like a cat got your tongue. You flutter your eyes, trying to think of what to reply.

Jungkook clicks his tongue, “Tsk. See, you're rubbish in talking, Y/n. Once I start to put you in your place, you can no longer put on that bratty act on me.” He suddenly starts to walk over to you, putting you in a frenzy. You sit up straight, pursing your lips as you can't seem to breathe normally.

You cannot believe what was happening. Your mind starts to wander off from reality, trying to figure out what he is trying to tell you. Why did his voice change the way it did? As he walks closer, you can feel the warmth of his body enveloping yours. It was a situation that you wanted to run away from, but at the same time, you craved.

With your back to him, he places his hands to rest on the table in front of you. He traps you in your place, not letting you escape. Your breath hitch unexpectedly as he leans his face closer to yours.

“Jungkook… go away f-from me.” A trail of curses echoes in your mind, for you wanted to sound intimidating and not like a little kid.

Jungkook chuckles and clicks his tongue, “Then push me away, little girl.”

Everything in your system freezes. As if you just had been tasered, you feel electricity shooting throughout your body. Jungkook adores your reaction. He’s older than you, he knows more than you; and he knows just how to make a woman as you melt beneath his palms.

“Silent now, aren’t we?” he teases with a velvety voice, inching his face even closer to the curve of your neck. Strands of his hair tickle your neck as hot breath blows against your skin, causing shivers down your spine.

He hears a little whimper from you, making the grin on his face growing wider. “Be. A. Good. Girl. For. Me,” he says through an award-winning smirk.

But – of course – you will not let yourself lose.

“No.”

“No?” he stares at you, baffled.

“Never in a million years,” a bitter grin appears on your face.

Jungkook leans back and away from you. He was a hundred percent sure that he’s got you under his spell, but your reply got his mouth dry.

“Yeah?” So, he’s resulting in Plan B.

A hands-on experience.

Slowly and delicately, he lifts his tattooed-covered hand and wraps it around your neck. “Mhmm, there we go,” he coos after hearing another sudden whimper, “Remember who you're talking to, little girl, got it?”

Your palms start to get sweaty as you try your hardest not to moan. Jungkook grips your jugular tighter, making you hitch a breath. You can hear him grunt under his breath, knowing for a fact that this was turning him on as well.

“Who are you talking to, huh?” he starts to get aggressive as he presses his lips right against the shell of your ear. “Tell me, little girl. Remind yourself who’s in charge. C’mon, can’t speak now, baby?”

Baby.

Your eyes automatically close at that, feeling butterflies in your stomach. “Daddy.”

“Mhm, good girl—”

“Daddy,” you whine, “Daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, y-you’re in control.”

‘Finally’, Jungkook thinks to himself with a large cocky grin on his face. He finally got you to submit.

“Someone’s not as tough as they seem… I think I need to punish you for being such a fucking brat. What do you say?”

The way he said those words right against your ear instantly made your panties wet. It was humiliating that you got turned on by your stepdad, but at the same time, it was hot.

“Little girl… tsk, I need you to answer with your words and not with a desperate whimper.”

He releases the grip he has on your throat and instead, elevates his hand so that his fingers can rub against your scalp. A tingling sensation runs through your backbone as he massages your scalp, feeling so overwhelmingly good that made you lean back against his hand, yearning for more.

“Punish me,” you say in an almost audible whisper. “Do what you want, I don’t care. Please, please, please…”

Jungkook takes a good look at you; your cheeks flushed, eyelids closed and your mouth slightly parted. It looks like you were enjoying this a lot – too much to be exact.

The feeling was something else, something foreign that you honestly craved for such a long time. You and Jungkook had were never close, and you’ve never thought of him as a real father figure. After such a long time of not having a man to run the family, you didn’t know how to act around one.

Within a second of realization that you were loving this too much, he removes his hand from you and walks away without saying anything else. You feel like you just got heartbroken.

“W-What… why did you?” you stutter through a long exhale. Your eyes begged for him to come back, damn it – you were ready for him!

As Jungkook walks away from the kitchen with his bare, muscular back facing you, he says a final time, “Take your studies seriously, Y/n. I don’t want you failing any subject.”

You feel your shoulders slump down and your mouth purses into a straight line. You just got edged by your stepdad.

Staying silent was, you thought, the right thing to do at the moment. You insatiably did not trust your voice, and there was nothing to say to him without embarrassing yourself.

You glance at the clock on the wall just beside the refrigerator. As your classes were done for the day, and you have the rest of the afternoon all to yourself. Despite all of the unfinished homework that you currently have piled in your calendar, you still choose to watch a movie on Netflix and eat a tub of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream.

And, of course, all this just to distract yourself from the bizarre shit that happened between you and your step-dad, and to divert your attention on something else other than how sexy he is.

“Hey, hey, hey, where do you think you’re going this late?” Your dad stops you from stepping outside the door, grabbing you by the arm. You close your eyes for a brief moment, inhaling some air to let your senses calm down. The door was already opened, and all you had to do was to get out a little faster, and he wouldn’t have caught you.

Perhaps trying to sneak out of the house was harder than you thought.

Jungkook spins you around and makes you look at his dark eyes despite the dim lights of the entryway. He wears black checkered pajama pants and a white tank top, hair all messy as if he had just woken up from a deep sleep.

“It’s ten o’clock, and you’re supposed to be in bed,” he warns you with a strict tone.

Snatching your arm away from him, you reply with gritted teeth, “I’m going out with a friend.”

“Friend?” he scoffs, “I wasn’t born last night, Y/n. Where is he?”

“He?” You slowly back away, taking tiny little steps closer to the door, “What do you mean ‘he’? I’m not going out with any guy, dad.”

Jungkook rests his hips on one leg and eyes you up and down. Based on what you were wearing and the makeup that you have on, you looked like you’re about to give some boy the time of his life.

“I’m not going to do anything I’d regret, I promise,” you whisper as quiet as the night sky behind you. “I’ll be good, daddy.”

That was all it took for Jungkook to stop his tracks. You knew what you just did to him. The way how we reacted, how he froze immediately at his place, was the same reaction you had earlier this day when he did all those dirty things to you. Now he was in your shoes.

As Jungkook looked like a dear in headlights, that was the time where you rushed off into the middle of the streets where Yeonjun’s car is hesitantly parked.

“Quick, quick, quick!” you half-whispered, half-shouted as you closed the passenger’s door. Yeonjun laughs loudly while setting the gear up, preparing the car for a long, speedy ride.

You look back and see Jungkook standing outside the porch, watching in awe as the car drives away from him. There was nothing funnier than seeing his stunned expression, for he couldn't do anything about your mischief anymore.

“Is he angry?” Yeonjun asks, still giggling in his seat.

“Yeah, he didn’t want me to leave,” You swing the seatbelt across your torso, securing it in the buckle.

Yeonjun passes you a drink he bought for you from McDonald’s in which you gladly receive with thanks. “What’s this?” you ask before taking a sip.

“Iced coffee. We’re out here for a long, long night, Y/n. See, I have one for myself!” he exclaims as he points to his drink sitting on the cupholder.

Yeonjun pulls down the windows so that you two can get a feel of the cold, fresh air of the starry night. Strands of hair would so often get caught in between your lips, distracting you from the relaxing scenario.

Lifting your elbow to rest on the window frame, you ask him, “Are you sure this drive-in cinema is open this late at night?”

“Of course, they’re open 24/7.” Yeonjun takes a quick look at you before returning his focus on the road. He smirks slightly, “We’re gonna have so much fun, Y/n. You won’t regret it.”

You’ve already entered high-school when Jungkook met you. His first impressions of you were bashful and conservative, only showing your true nature around your friends. He thought you were such a warmhearted kid. He was only dating your mother at the time.

But you’ve never really felt that he was a part of the family. His aura was never the nurturing ‘dad’ type, but rather, the ‘cool uncle’. He was never accustomed to kids, he’s the youngest of his siblings, so it was astounding that he’d ever married someone with a hormonal teen.

Thus, as you’ve grown older, he’s slowly seeing your real side. Inch by inch, you're letting him see your colors and how you behave. A snappy and confident girl you are. You always have an opinion on things and you despise it when somebody gets in your way.

That’s how your mother raised you. She taught you how to stand up for yourself and how to make yourself known, even though you sometimes overstep people’s boundaries.

Your mom was out of town for a trip with her office friends. She just landed a new job at the local government unit, and she was invited to their annual orientation. Which, if you were in her shoes, wouldn’t go to. But thankfully without her strict guidance, you can do whatever you want.

Just say the magic words to your stepdad, and he’ll be putty in your hands.

Consequently, Jungkook won't admit that he doesn’t like your attitude you put on him. He cares for you, he does. But if there’s ever a situation that you cross his limits, he wouldn’t hesitate to punish you and make it known that in the end, he’s older and you need to obey him.

Scared was a downright understatement. No matter how much you try to be brave and face whatever your stepdad might do to you as a penalty for ‘misbehaving’, you couldn’t help but break into a cold sweat.

It was two in the morning, and your eyes are bloodshot red from almost having no sleep at all, besides the little nap you and Yeonjun took after watching a series of old movies in the drive-in cinema. You were wearing his sweater that he gave to you to keep you warm.

“Thank you for tonight, Yeonjun,” you lean into the window frame, resting your arms on it. The yellow-haired boy smiles at you, his eyes wandering around your face as if memorizing every pattern of your features. He takes a final look at your bruised, swollen lips and hickey-covered neck before orienting his torso close to you. His face was an inch away from yours before he kisses you goodbye.

“Try not to get caught,” he whispers against your lips with a cheeky grin.

“You said that before, and I got caught,” you shrug while tilting your head to the side, “Say something else.”

Yeonjun scrunches his nose. He uses his right hand to pinch your cheek endearingly, “Alright, then. How about… good luck with your stepdad.”

Pursing your lips into a thin line, you release an exasperated sigh while closing your eyes. The two of you result in laughter, before giving him his goodbye.

Hurriedly, you rush around the house until you arrive at your bedroom window. Thanking your past self for slightly lifting the glass pane open beforehand, it was easy for you to sneak in without any faults.

The room was dim only because of the dawn lights outside. “Ah, finally,” you shut the window, hearing the loud ‘thud’ in contrast to the quiet atmosphere around you.

“Did you enjoy yourself, hm?”

‘Oh. My. God.’

It feels like you were in a horror movie. Jungkook’s cold voice sent shivers all over your body, running down your spine, arms, and legs. Frozen in your place, you gulp the ball that formed in your throat.

Jungkook was sitting comfortably in your bed, one leg above another. “You know, little girl, I didn’t know how comfy this bed is. I might sleep in here with you sometimes.”

“What?” you abruptly turn to look at him. He had a despicable smirk, knowing what he said has gotten on your nerves. “You will not sleep with me.”

“Why not?” he doesn’t lose eye contact with you as he stands up, “You’re my baby girl.”

Your breathing turned heavy as he slowly pushes you back into a concrete wall, not providing you any room to run away. “I-I’m…I’m what?”

His eyes inspect your body up and down. You were praying to someone above that he wouldn’t see your hickeys, but it was all too late, and he knows you too much.

Jungkook prods his tongue in his cheek once his menacing eyes stay on your neck. He looks straight into your eyes, before directing them back to those hickeys.

“What is this—” your breathing snags from how rapid he was to press his body against you, wrapping his right hand around your jaw. He forcefully tilts your head to gain more access to your neck. Jungkook analyzes the deep red and purple marks on your skin, feeling oh-so disappointed in you. You turn squeamish from how tight he holds you, hearing how rugged the way his breath became, deep inhales and aggressive exhales. “What a fucking slut you are.”

You feel your blood rushing out from your face, turning pale in a mere second of him saying that word to you.

With a gruff, guttural voice, Jungkook doesn’t let you explain for he swiftly turns you around, pushing your frontside onto the cold wall.

He holds the back of your neck and “I stayed up all fucking night waiting for you to come back home. Despite how fucking irritating and bratty you are, no matter how much you hate me, I care for you, Y/n. I fucking care for you, and I promised your mother that I’ll look after you.”

You whimper when he tightens his grip once again, but you didn’t think about pushing away.

“But here you are, not even cooperating with daddy.”

“You’re not—”

Jungkook suddenly gives your clothed ass cheek a hard, loud spank. Your engrossed gasp captivated the room, and it sure did something to him. Jungkook, although he knows that you can’t see him, hides his growing smirk by biting his lower lip. He gives you a second spank, and a third spank, making your legs quiver and knees buckle from the pain.

“P-Please stop…” you whine, your hands trying to reach behind you to grab his arms.

“Stop?” he raises an eyebrow, “Wanna stop, little girl? You don’t like it when daddy spanks your ass?”

However, you don’t answer. You don’t know what you want. The situation turned you on, and you know you’ll love the way your ass will burn afterward. Why stop now when you can enjoy it?

Jungkook sees your mind was racing with thoughts, and he takes this as a perfect opportunity to drag you along with him to the bed. He sits on the edge of the mattress and swings you over his knee.

“Stop!” you yell loudly this time, trying to pry away, but he was holding onto you tightly.

“Shut up,” Jungkook growls, his voice immediately changes into a much deeper, hoarser tone. He, once again, grabs your jaw and forces you to tilt your head up, making you look directly into his eyes. “Shut the fuck up, little girl. You do nothing but run your mouth all over this goddamn house.”

Jungkook was angry. The pads of his fingertips dig deeper into the skin of your jaw and lower cheeks, causing your lips to form a pout.

He clicks his tongue, “Y/n, Y/n, Y/n. If you think that I’m going to let you go so easily, I’m afraid that you’re wrong, dear. I’ve finally gotten you between my teeth!” he exclaims sarcastically, although the sour tone of his voice makes you cringe.

“You think you’re the shit, huh? Wanting attention so bad that you sneak out at midnight to fuck a disgusting pig. Am I right, Y/n?”

“How fucking—” you shake and try to wiggle yourself out of his grip, offended by the words he said. You wanted to punch him yet cry at the same time. “How fucking dare you!” Facing him with tears slowly welling up in your eyes, “I-I do not— Yeonjun’s not… ugh!” You dig your nails into your palm from the raging frustration that was filling your mind and body. You kick your legs up and down, but Jungkook was not having it. He isn’t letting you go any time soon because he constricts your wrists together behind your back, tighter.

“Shhh, shhh,” Jungkook smirks menacingly, “Relax, little girl, relax. You’re safe now in daddy’s arms. Perhaps that Yeonjun boy has gotten in your head a little too much, hm? Don’t worry, daddy will fix your attitude.”

Without hesitating at all, Jungkook pulls your skirt down, revealing your lace panties all to his eyes. His warm hand rubs your soft flesh, squeezing it here and there. He knows that you like it. He knows that you’re only keeping this little act up to seem tough. But he sees the way your eyes dilate whenever he says a word that triggers you, that triggers you in a way that’ll make you surrender to him.

Take the kitchen scenario, for example. With one word, with a specific act, you were melting for him. He knows that you absolutely can’t get enough of him, and he loves to play with your mind.

He was completely aware that it wasn’t Yeonjun or anything else that makes you act like this; acting like a little monster. It was all because of him; he’s the one responsible.

And he’s the one who will fix you.

“Come on, baby,” Jungkook’s tone turns softer, more delicate. He hits your ass once, twice, before cooing you with shushes.

You slowly get hazy, the spiteful and bratty part of your brain switches off. A shiver runs throughout your system when he wraps his hand around your neck. Flashes of the kitchen scenario fill your mind; how submissive you turned for him so swiftly. Your consciousness knows that you’re doing it for a second time.

“Where’s my good baby girl, hm? Where’s that little girl that I love so, so fucking much?” He says through gritted teeth at the last sentence, spanking your butt again.

His thumb rubs soothing repetitive circles on your skin, disregarding how firm he was choking you. You close your eyes, sniffing a little, somehow feeling tranquility in his grasp.

You release a pain-filled mewl when he purposefully presses his thumb against the giant reddish-purple hickey on your neck. Jungkook’s cock hardens beneath his sweatpants, forming an obvious outline as each second passes.

He was enthralled by you. The way you move and the way you behave for him was addictive to see. “Yeonjun, huh?” Jungkook grins, “What’s this hickey for? Little girl?” Jungkook laughs as he lands another critical spank, causing your body to slightly jolt forward. “Is this his way of ‘marking’ you, hm? Claiming you as his own?” he doesn’t stop giggling from his own words, mocking you with a bitter attitude.

“How pathetic, don’t you think? You allow yourself to be ‘claimed’ by a random dude you just met. Are you proud of yourself? Oh, I bet you’re very delighted that you’ve finally found attention from a boy.”

He chokes you harder, pressing his thumb firmer against the hickey. The pain shoots throughout your body, making you quiver and close your eyes. However, you don’t respond. It was too humiliating to admit that his words were surprisingly true.

Without a warning, he hooks his index finger along the waistband of your panties and yanks it down. You sharply inhale through your nose, chewing down on your bottom lip as you feel two slender fingers play with your wet slit. Jungkook groans lowly from how wet you are, watching your pussy clench and unclench around nothing.

“But you… oh you, Y/n—” he flips you back up and positions you to sit on his thighs, straddling him. Jungkook tilts his head and raises both of his brows, looking at you with disbelief.

He exhales his words out, “You don’t know how to hide that skanky hickey of yours. Have you ever thought about covering up your hickey just as any other teen with a working brain, you slut?”

Jungkook’s vicious, barbed words hit you like a truck. You look away from him, but he was quick to place a finger on your chin. He flicks his finger up, your head joining the gesture.

As his tongue dances along with his plush bottom lip, he places his hands on your hips and squeezes thoroughly. His eyes rake your body up and down, your exposed cunt exposed to him.

“Hickeys 101, Y/n. Conceal and disguise your hickeys if you don’t want to be caught,” he smirks, “but of course you wanted to be caught. You wanted all of this to happen.”

“I don’t care.” You shake your head, trying your hardest to force a poker-face, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach. His hands were toying with your waist, tapping his fingertips on your dressed skin. Why does he have to mess with your mind like this?

Sensual. Your stepdad reeked sex appeal and you hate yourself for loving it so much. His senses stick to you like a shadow you can’t escape, his aura addicting, and you want more of it.

He pulls you closer, hands on each side of your face. His nose was a millimeter away from your own, and you can feel his hot breath fanning your face. That awful smirk doesn’t wipe off of his face. He looks at your lips, then back to your eyes. As much as he was admiring your beauty, you were doing the same.

Jungkook was undoubtedly handsome. Perfect, strong features that no man in your liking can ever compare. His luscious, long hair with wavy strands here and there frames his face, encompassing his flawless appearance.

There’s no way you will ever say no to him.

He kisses you. Pressing his lips against yours, he kisses you so gently that you forget that he’s supposed to punish you. The kiss was tender and soft, a kiss like he would give to a girl’s first time.

‘You’re kissing your stepdad, idiot.’ A voice at the back of your mind says. However, easily disregarding that conflicting thought, Jungkook pulls away before you can even take the kiss to the next level.

“Little girl, oh, baby,” he laughs, “I’m going to hurt you. I’m gonna fucking bruise you until I can see tears in your eyes.”

He easily throws you on the bed and he starts to strip himself down to his boxers. There was an evident fear written across your face, hugging your knees to your chest as you watch his dick grow beneath his underwear.

“Take your fucking shirt off,” he growls, “Take everything off. Now.” His natural dominating presence allowed you to obey him quite easily. You did as you were told, keeping eye contact the whole time just to tease him. Sucking your bottom lip, you hide your sly grin.

Jungkook stands tall from the edge of the bed, his honeydew skin being a perfect contrast with his dark hair. He palms himself through his boxer briefs, not having any hesitation at all. His eyes never leave you as you take off every piece of clothing from your body. You felt a little insecure, yes, but you gulp that nervousness down your throat.

However, as soon as you took your top off, Jungkook caught a glimpse of more hickeys scattered all over your chest. This sight causes him to tilt his head back with an exasperated sigh.

“Crawl.” He motions with his index and middle finger a ‘come here’ motion, “Crawl to me, little girl.”

You get down on all fours and do as your told. He smiles with a content look on his face, but was soon replaced with a seductive gaze, “Did you have sex with that boy?”

“W-What? No, I didn’t!” you answer quickly, shaking your head.

His throbbing cock was right in front of your face. Aside from it still being covered with his underwear, you can spot how it twitches then are there. He holds your head with both of his warm hands, “Tell me, little girl. What are you?”

Your mouth gapes open but no word comes out. With your mind filled with lust and desire, you couldn’t understand what he meant.

Jungkook pulls his cock out, but he doesn’t let you see it at first. He holds your head up and won’t even tolerate you taking a glance.

“You don’t know what you are, huh?” he scoffs bitterly, “I knew you wouldn’t. What’s a girl like you anyway, right?”

Your heart pounds rapidly in your chest.

“Repeat after me, Y/n. I am a whore.”

You whimper, pouting your lips.

“C’mon, don’t say it’s too degrading for you, whore. It’s the bare fucking minimum for me. Don’t you want me to be proud of you?”

Oh, he knows what he’s doing to you. He knows and of your weaknesses and he’s been using those against you. But you – you were naïve enough to notice that.

“I’m…” you blink rapidly, “I’m a whore.”

He snarks whilst stroking your luscious hair, “Louder.”

Jungkook ignores your whines and waits for you with a quirked eyebrow. His patience was wearing thin and you were walking on thin ice right now.

“I’m a whore.” You repeat loudly this time, the words sinking deep into your soul.

He leans down and slants his head, “And what do whores get, hm?”

“I-I don’t know.”

Jungkook wraps a big hand around his thick cock, aligning the tip in front of your mouth. You gasp. “They get their bratty mouths stuffed with dick.”

There wasn’t even a warning as Jungkook shoves his dick down your throat, making you gag and choke harshly around his girth. Jungkook growls deeply, his eyes rolling back to his head.

Your saliva starts to drip down to your chin as he face-fucks you, not giving you the time to breathe nor to adjust to his long length. With one hand, he creates a makeshift ponytail and pushes your head farther down his dick.

The whimpers you made out of protest didn’t even work, because the vibrations it caused pleasured him even more.

“Mhmm, that’s right, struggle for me,” he moans, watching your eyes filling up with tears. “This is where you belong, whore. Right at your stepdad’s mercy and submission. You don’t get to choose what you want because I owe you. I control you.”

Jungkook further fucks you as his hips thrust back and forth with no remorse. Gagging sounds fill the entire room and it just turns him on increasingly.

“Look at me. Look at me!” he grunts as he pulls his dick out. He watches a single tear fall down your cheek, making his mouth form another devilish grin.

He leans down to grab something from the floor, but you don’t notice.

“You’re such a mess, little girl. Just what daddy wants you to be.”

Jungkook takes his shaft and abruptly slaps your cheek with his dick. He hits your flesh a couple of times, humming in delight.

In a swift, quick second, you suddenly feel a hard and raging sting on your right ass cheek from an unexpected impact. You cry out loud, shutting your eyes from the pain you experienced without a notice.

His belt.

The harsh leather material instantly caused redness on your delicate, soft skin. Jungkook whips you again, triggering a downpour of tears. You release incoherent noises every time he spanks you, for every hit was harder and sharper from the last.

“You’re a naughty, irresponsible little girl.” He declares alongside another hit. He makes sure that each cheek was covered in red belt marks. His cock stands tall before you, drenched in your saliva as it leaks precum. You couldn’t take your eyes off of it and he takes this into account.

Another hit, he puts all his strength in, making you inhale a sharp breath. Jungkook takes this shot to plunge his dick deep back into your mouth, pushing past your gag reflex as you struggle for air once more.

Your pussy was awfully drenched and you can feel your wetness drip down from your slit and onto your inner thighs. You’ve never been this wet before, and it was insane that it’s all because of your unquestionably hot step-dad.

It was like you’re in a porn video. No matter how rough he was fucking your face, you enjoyed it and you were moaning as he obliterates your throat.

Jungkook pushes his cock deeper, your entire body twitching from the foreign feeling. “Stay there, stay there,” he rasps, “Stay there and take my big fucking dick down your little throat. Yes, that’s right, ohh fuck.”

Every muscle in his body flexes as he tries to keep you still. "This is all you're good for, slut. You deserve to be used for pleasure from a man. You're nothing but a cockwhore." His biceps harden as he puts your head in place, abs tight. He leans forward and encloses your poor head with his strong thighs, securing yourself to his dick.

With another crack of his belt onto your ass, you cry. Jungkook admires the sight of chaos he’s created. Once he was satisfied with the look of you, he pulls out.

This is what he likes; messy and all wet. A string of saliva connects from your lips and to the tip of his dick. You try to catch your breath, inhaling and exhaling so sharply. Looking up at him with red, pitiable eyes, you give him a sullen expression.

“You see what you did there, little girl? Hm? Now tell me again, what are you?”

This time, you don’t hesitate.

“I’m a whore.”

“Yes, you are. Yes, you are, baby. You’re daddy’s little whore.”

Your mind turns fuzzy once again. It was clear that you were not yourself anymore. If you weren’t drunk in lust, you wouldn’t let this happen and you absolutely wouldn’t allow him to handle you this way.

But then again, it was too difficult to not succumb to him.

“Cute little thing,” he murmurs beneath his breath. “Bet your pussy taste fucking delicious. Go on, turn around for daddy and let him see.”

Your cheeks blush once you’ve obeyed his order and your cunt was exposed all for his eyes. Feeling a hand run down your sore ass, you whine as his fingers trail down your inner thighs, purposely ignoring your needy pussy.

Jungkook was biting his lip so hard that he can almost draw blood. Ever so slightly, the pad of his thumb glides across your wet slit, lightly pressing against it. “Jungkook,” you whisper, wiggling your butt for more.

“Oww fuck!” you drop your face on the mattress when Jungkook slaps your pussy unanticipatedly. Legs quivering in need, you bite down on the sheets.

“Surprised that you don’t know how to address me, Y/n.” In a quick motion, he pushes two fingers inside your sopping entrance.

Already feeling full, your back painfully arches as you attempt to take his fingers that were thrusting in and out so boldly. Suave movements of his digits caused a chill down your back, feeling too much euphoria at once.

“What’s my name again?” he inquires before using his thumb to rub on your throbbing clit.

“Daddy,” you reply quickly, not wanting to be punished further.

“Good girl,” he chuckles, “that’s what a good girl should do; follow instructions without having to tell twice. You just love taking orders, don’t you? Huh?”

“I-I do,” your face heats up immensely, stomach churning.

Jungkook hums approvingly as he spreads your ass cheeks apart with his hands. You can feel the heat radiating off of his face as he leans into your cunt. With a bold lick of his tongue, your body shivers as the strong muscle toys with your folds.

“Oh, please,” you moan, “that feels so good.”

“Really now?” Jungkook gathers a bunch of his saliva and spits it down on your cunt, making it wetter and lubricated than it already was. He takes your clit into his mouth and sucks profusely, licking and biting here and there. The sound of your moans fueled his hunger for your cum, but he was not letting you go so easily.

His tongue flicks your clit without mercy before inserting two fingers inside your hole once more. He feels your walls flutter around his digits, signaling your upcoming orgasm.

He pulls away completely.

Jungkook ignores your cries and how you bucked your hips to him, wanting more. He instructs you to lay down on the bed with your back against the headboard. Grasping the belt in his hand, you swallow the formed ball down your throat as you watch him crawl to you – like a predator hunting for its prey.

“Pretty,” he mumbles to himself, eyeing you up and down. He kneels before you and grabs your neck, pulling you to him. If it weren’t for his lewdness and obscure actions, then you would say that his smile was sweet. But you know for a fact that his mind was thinking of different ways on how to torture you.

Your eyes widen as he wraps the black leather belt around your jugular, using it like it's a dog collar and leash. “What are you – ohh…” Jungkook tightens the belt not enough to suffocate you, but enough for you to feel that it’ there.

“Gotta hide that hideous hickey of yours, little girl. The more I look at it, the more I remember how much of a slut you are for that boy. Tell me, can Yeonjun make you feel the way I make you feel?”

"No," you meekly reply with a little shake of your head. Nothing will ever compare to what Jungkook makes you feel than any other.

He wraps the belt around his fist and tugs on it, causing you to jolt forward, face closer to him. His nose barely grazes against yours. "Tell daddy you're sorry."

"B-But..."

He tilts his head in confusion, surely not expecting you to reply with anything else than a simple 'sorry.'

"But what?" he nags, slowly growing annoyed.

"I didn't mean to do it with Yeonju—".

*Slap*

His hands collide with your right cheek, slapping your face with no remorse, making you release a loud whimper of pain. Jungkook growls and roughly holds your cheek, making you pout. Your eyes instantly tear up from the stinging pain, and Jungkook leans to your ear to whisper; "Say. Sorry."

He releases his grip on your cheeks so you can answer properly, "I'm sorry...daddy."

"Good girl," he says simply before leaning in to give a tender, wet kiss on your lips. He smiles before you, eyes turning into little crescents with dark irises staring directly into yours, "Have you learned your lesson?"

"Yes, I do."

"Well, what've you learned, little girl?" he caresses your reddened cheek, "You promise to be good from now on and obey daddy?"

"I promise." You reply in an almost inaudible whisper. Thankfully, it was enough for Jungkook.

However, he wasn't done with you. He was yet to put his dick inside your pussy. Thanks to his strong build, Jungkook easily flips you around on your stomach, making you lay flat on the bed. He hovers on top of you with his dick in between your butt.

Grabbing your wrists to secure them behind your back, he takes his shaft with his other hand and aligns his cock to your dripping pussy's entrance.

"Want my cock?" Jungkook asks with a raspy voice, turned-on from the sight of your bruised butt with the combination of your sweet cunt, the folds all wet and ready for him.

"Mhm, please put it in me..." you insist politely.

Without hesitating, Jungkook pushes his tip inside your heat. "God, fuck," he chuckles, moaning right after, "you have such a tight pussy. So fucking tight and wet for my dick. Mhmm..."

Your pussy walls inevitably flutter around his girth once he had his whole tip in, and you can’t help yourself but twitch and squirm. Jungkook finds this endearing.

“Daddy,” you mewl, “please put it all in me.”

‘Well, if you said so.’ Jungkook thinks before shoving his whole length in. Ignoring how your back arched and the loud yelp you released, Jungkook thrusts his dick in and out of your pussy so good like he was a sex-god.

His dick is covered in your juices as he rubs his precum all over your walls, getting you all nice and extra-lubricated for him. Your moans motivate him to continue, his primal instincts were ultimately getting the best of him.

“F-Fuck,” he stutters, biting his bottom lip. It has been a while since he’s felt pussy wrapped around his cock, consequently, he ravishes on the sensation he missed so fucking much. “You’re being so good taking my dick, mhmm, you like it deep inside that young pussy?” he asks with a tint of mockery in his tone, “I bet you’re the type to prefer older men’s dick.” His thrusts were getting rougher and rougher, deeper, making you feel so full. His words were like honey, despite how lewd they are, the way how he spoke to you made you addicted.

Jungkook holds your wrists tighter, nails digging down your skin. “I know your little boyfriends can’t satisfy you. That’s why you only want my cock, correct, little lady?”

“M-Mhmm,” you respond as his balls clap against your ass.

You’ve never felt more euphoric in your entire life. Only vulgar and lecherous sounds can be heard and you never want it to stop. His fervent, erotic moans sounded so hot made you milk his cock even harder. And it worked; Jungkook feels you tightening, clenching and unclenching.

Pounding you like this from behind, all submissive for him was feeding onto his dark, domineering desires. Getting you all for himself was easier than he expected.

“Do you want to cum?” he flips you around and starts fucking you in missionary, the new position makes you throw your head back as his cock hits your g-spot over and over again.

You mouth the word ‘yes’, having no energy to form a coherent word.

Jungkook chuckles, lifting both your legs up to his shoulders, creating more leeway for him to move deeper.

“Ohh my god, just like that!”

“Yeah?” He presses his body to yours, sweaty bodies pressed together. Without wiping away that smirk of his, he brings his mouth to yours to kiss you one again.

You felt a sensory overload. With each hard, delicious thrust, you keep moaning into his mouth that you can’t even give him a proper kiss. “I-I’m gonna cum, daddy,” you sob, “I’m gonna cum!”

“Hold it.” He snaps, “Hold your cum. Wait for my instructions.”

His breathing was getting unsteady, you feel your room getting hotter and hotter with each second. All you can think of was his cock drilling inside your cunt. His long hair drapes from his face and the tips were slightly ticking your cheeks. The veins in his neck were protruding, making him look ten times hotter.

His cock was making you dumb. You can almost forget that he was your stepdad – for he was just an older man you lusted for.

“Be a good cockslut for me, m’kay baby? You’re already a good girl for letting daddy take control over you. I’m gonna let you cum as a reward.”

“Mmnggg, please!”

With his hand, he grabs your belt-clad throat and squeezes hard, making you see stars. Your toes curl up from this specific action.

“Open your mouth.” He says in a hurry, teeth gritted together, “Open your slutty mouth.”

After a second that you parted your lips, Jungkook spits in your mouth unexpectedly. This made you wild. You didn’t dare to close your mouth and swallow his already existing spit because you wanted more. “Ohh, I see what you want,” Jungkook snickers, “filthy little whore. Swallow and I’ll give you more.”

Subsequently, he praises you with words that made you blush. He gives you another load of his spit, and you consume it immediately. If Jungkook was hard earlier, he was now rock-solid from your freaky behavior he didn’t know you comprised.

“Daddy, please! I can’t hold it in…” your body slightly quivers from the unforgiving impact of his cock, squeezing your walls so tightly to prevent yourself from spilling your cum onto him.

Jungkook can’t wait any longer himself, “Cum. Cum on my cock, baby. Do it – oh shit – do it now.”

Your mouth falls open and your eyes roll back to your head. You felt an overwhelming drive of euphoria rush through your system as you let yourself loose on his cock. “Jesus Christ, you’re so hot, little girl,” Jungkook groans, “There, there,” he pumps his cock faster to catch his orgasm.

"Daddy's gonna cum inside your mouth," Jungkook's cock twitches instantly from the thought, "Imma spill my seed deep inside your throat. You're not wasting any spills, little girl, you're lucky to even get a taste of my cum. For a slut like you don't deserve a single shit. A-Ahhh fuck, y-you’re lucky your so goddamn cute that I – mmngg – couldn’t resist giving you daddy’s cum."

Within a couple of deep, mind-blowing thrusts, he pulls out and crawls over to your face. Automatically opening your mouth to accept his cock, he pushes his length down and past your gag-reflex. “B-Baby, baby, fucking shit,” he grits his teeth, hands clawing at your hair, “Take my cum, c’mon, I know you can. I know you can take this sweet daddy cum. Mhmm that’s a good girl, that’s daddy’s good little girl.”

Your throat contracts and gags as he fills you up, spilling his seed down your pipe. Tears started to fall down your woeful eyes, attempting to take everything that was given to you.

You knew you were going to hell for this – for all of this. But at least you’ve enjoyed yourself and got what you’ve wanted.

It was undeniably crazy how quick he got you into submission. Was it the way that he talks to you, the way he can technically read your mind and identify all of the things you desired, or was it just your daddy issues coming to play?

Whatever it was, you didn’t regret a single bit of this to happen.

Who knows if this will occur to you again; if you’ll receive the same pleasure as this again?

“Come ‘ere, let me wrap you in my arms,” Jungkook whispers after cleaning you up. Nodding, you scooch over to him to allow his warmth to resonate through your naked body.

He is the perfect big spoon. He rests his chin on top of your head, humming a song to soothe you.

Looking outside the window, you see that the sky is painted with variations of orange and red, signaling the arrival of dawn. Your eyes grow big as you examine the time on the wall clock; 4:00 A.M. You have three and a half hours left until classes start.

Jungkook minds how your body tenses. He holds you a bit tighter and snuggles his face into the crook of your neck. Even though he can see those awful hickeys, he turns a blind eye to them.

“Skip classes. Daddy won’t be mad,” he titters, “Although, your mom will be home anytime soon today.”

You emit a gasp, “Wait, today?”

“Yes,” he sneers, understanding the panic in your eyes, “Remember what I told you, Y/n. Hickeys 101, cover—”

“Cover it up.”

After you’ve slept through all your classes for today, you woke up in the afternoon exactly when your mother just arrived from her trip.

Your whole body was sore. You can’t walk straight and your hair was in tangles. Before exiting your bedroom, you went to your bathroom, grabbed your makeup back, and covered your hickeys with concealer.

‘Yeonjun… should I even see him again?’

The makeup did the bare minimum of covering your bruises. It wasn’t the best coverage ever, but it was enough. Parting your hair to the side to hide most of the skin of your neck, you finally went outside.

“Y/n!” your mother exclaims, raising her head after she was scurrying deep inside her bag. “There you are. Are classes dismissed early?”

Your step-dad chuckles behind her as he was carrying the rest of her luggage to the living room. Jungkook glances at you.

“Yes.” You straight out lied.

“I see. Oh! And did Jungkook treat you well?”

You almost choked in your spit.

“Was he good to you?” your mom raises her brows to Jungkook, “Or was Y/n a pain in the ass, babe?”

Your face turns red in an instant. You wanted to laugh from the double-meaning of her words.

“Y/n was a pain in the ass but don’t worry…” Jungkook smirks at you, his eyes hinting a sultry, teasing look, “She’s a good girl nevertheless.”

The way Jungkook looks at you has to be a crime. There’s never a moment where you didn’t feel a single thing whenever he locks his handsome eyes with yours. It was an incredibly intense feeling – a feeling that you know you’ll crave.

“Mm. Okay. You look…” she scans your figure, head to toe. “tired. But anyway, come here and help me unpack. I have tons of stories and gossips to tell!” Your mom exclaims as she sits down on the couch.

Before you can even approach her, Jungkook grabs your right arm and puts you in front of him. Afraid that he’ll do something you’ll regret, you pull away – but he shakes his head.

Jungkook puts his index finger in front of his mouth, looking down at you while he whispers, “Shhh,” he leans forward and mouths the next words close to your ear, “Act like nothing happened, little girl.”

#jungkook smut #btsbookclub #btswriterscollective #btsguild #bangtansmutcentral

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theeslytherinslut · 3 years

Text

The Perpetual Freak (1/?)

Pairings: Sirius Black x reader, Marauders x reader

Warnings: Mention of bullying,

Word Count: 2,063

The Beginning

“Twitch,

Just 4 days now--like I need to tell you, likely been counting down the days all bloody Holiday, haven’t you? We’ll be there Sept 1st at 10 on the dot, we should make it to King’s Cross by 11 that way. Be ready this time, won’t you? I think Padfoot just might actually hex your grandmother if he has to make small talk with her again, but can you blame him? Anyway, we’ll be there at 10. Don’t forget Jinx this time. I don’t fancy being attacked once he breaks out of your grandmother’s house.

P.S Sirius said he’ll be on his best behavior--does that make you nervous too?

See you soon,

Prongs (& Padfoot)

The letter lay in the same spot on your cracked cherrywood desk since you received it. Though short and to the point, you’d reread it many times, hoping somehow the more you read it, the faster the day would come.

Holidays were hell. Being a muggle-born, there was always a bit of an adjustment period after coming home from Hogwarts for a break--an adjustment period usually aided by parents and family--however, this could not have been further from the truth for you.

“Y/N!” As if on cue, your Grandmother's angry call shot up the stairs. Cringing, you held your breath as you walked down the stairs into the kitchen. She stood with her blue gingham apron covered in flour, as well as most of the floor and countertop.

“If this bloody bird scratches my window one-more-time,” she said the words through clenched teeth, glaring at you from across the room. Her stacked icy grey curls bobbled on her head as she shouted, her fist pressed against her hip. “I’ll have to drown it in the creek.”

Your Snowy Owl, Jinx, sat outside the baby-blue curtained window, his big orange eyes peering at you innocently through the glass.

Piecing together the situation, you’d guessed Jinx had arrived suddenly during your grandmother’s baking and had startled her, causing her to spill much of the contents of her bowl.

Suppressing a smile at the mess, you walked over to the window and opened it. Jinx’s peppered wings stretched out briefly before you felt his talons brush against your collarbone, and he perched onto your shoulder.

“Sorry, Grandmother,” you mumbled, catching your cousin smirking at you. A blush of anger lit up your face, and you made to disappear back into your room before anything got ugly; you’d gone all Holiday without a vicious row, and you weren’t about to start one just before you walked out the door.

“When does that school of yours start again, anyway? Aren’t you normally gone by now? Blakely’s school has already started, he’s been working so hard,” she doted, smoothing his hair as he ate his cereal, milk dribbling from his lips and onto the table. “We could all use a little peace and quiet around here, frankly.” she sniffed.

Jinx gave an annoyed hoot and ruffled his feathers unpleasantly as your grandmother glared at him from across the room.

“Train leaves September 1st at 11am like it always does. I’ll be leaving within the hour,” you said, struggling to control your voice.

“Train? There are enough of you--you, people, for an entire train?” Blakely said, dropping his spoon in his bowl, splattering more milk onto the table, evidently thoroughly shocked.

“Yes, oddly enough, it seems I’m not the only freak in England,” you said, using the word he often threw at you.

“Maybe not the only one, but definitely the biggest,” he said quietly, glaring up at you from his cereal. Grandmother, however, pretended as though she didn’t hear, merely clanged dishes loudly together as she turned back towards the sink.

“One day, I’ll hex you so terribly you’ll be lucky if someone calls you something so kind as freak,” you pushed the thought into his head and promptly stormed out of the kitchen, though savoring the terrified shock on his face.

“She-she did it again!” Blakely called, color draining his face. But you were already halfway up the staircase with Jinx balancing on your shoulder before her angry screech reached you.

You’d almost always been an utter freak in their eyes, and it all started when you were only a baby.

Your mother died while giving birth to you, and your father was never in the picture, so there was no one but your Grandmother to take you in; no one but you to blame for it all. You were, after all, the product of your mother’s insolence--having fallen pregnant at 15 by a man whom she’d never spoken of. And further, you were the reason she’d died; she wouldn’t have bled out if you hadn’t been conceived. To your Grandmother, it was as if you were the cause of every problem she had in life, a walking reminder of where it all went wrong--and she made sure you knew it.

Terrible as things already were, nothing was to be helped by the events that were to unfold. As the story had been told to you, you were a little over a year old, crying incessantly in your crib. You’d evidently been exceptionally whiny that day, crying non-stop, refusing to be consoled, and just when she’d for the first time seriously considered doing you in, you stopped. Relieved yet confused, your grandmother had come in to check on you.

“I’m hungry.”

She had heard the words clear as day, in a voice she didn’t recognize, but the words sounded funny. The voice almost echoed, somehow managing to sound crystal clear but miles away at the same time. Sure she was simply going mad from a lack of sleep, she stood rooted to her spot in shock.

“Did you hear me, Grandmother? I said I’m hungry.”

Seeing your bright Y/E/C eyes boring up into hers, she let out an ear-splitting scream when you grinned as recognition dawned on her face.

Obviously, no Muggle doctor could give any sort of explanation or help. At most, they’d give one of the two of you some kind of a crazy pill and a suggestion of seeing a family counselor.

Soon after, tragedy struck your grandmother’s side once more, and you were landed with a cousin, Blakely. Blakely, however, seemed to adopt a mindset closer to your grandmother’s about it all and would no sooner take a shine to you than get friendly with the rabies-infected alley cat.

But as the years went on, things began to get even stranger.

At the age of 3, your wailing cries caused all the lightbulbs around you to pop inexplicably (costing your grandmother a fortune, as she so loved to remind you).

At 5, you’d managed to levitate a ball Blakely was taunting you with out of his hands and into yours.

However, at age 9 is when it became harder to keep a secret; at age 9 is when your grandmother began truly resenting you.

Being a self-ascribed ‘freak,’ bullying was something you were no stranger to. A comment here, a hair tug there. However, this had been a particularly extreme case. Kylie Kippely and her best friends had backed you into a corner, each shooting off snarky comments at your scared state, and when that wasn’t enough, they began throwing things--anything they could get their hands on--cans, papers, pencils, erasers. All the while yelling how everyone would be much better off without such a freak in their midst, about how all their parents were scared to even send them to school anymore after your last incident.

Then, they began running out of rubbish and started picking up rocks instead. Before a single rock could leave their hands, however, the mulch around you began to shake, then chips slowly started rising into the air behind them. As your face went from scared to full of awe, they turned around to see what you were looking at and simultaneously dropped everything in their hands. The mulch then began pelting at all of them, causing everyone around you to scream and disperse, all batting away the pieces of mulch pelting at their running backsides.

Grandmother had pulled you out of the school before you could receive any other punishment, and from that moment on, you’d been stuck in the house with her.

With no outlet, with nothing but growing rage and resentment inside of you, things began to spiral even worse.

Just when Grandmother began researching distant reform schools, however, you received your Hogwarts letter, and everything made sense.

All the strange things you could do, all the bizarre things you made happen, had an explanation. Sure the explanation was that you were, in fact, a freak--but you weren’t the only freak. There was a whole school’s worth of freaks just like you--well, almost just like you.

Though paper cranes soared around you and magic burst from the tip of hundreds of wands, through your time at Hogwarts, you found you did have one unique gift: it was evidently called Telepathic Impression, a branch of complex magic known as Legillimens--no one else could push thoughts into other people’s heads like you could, not naturally anyway. Nobody could ask a question silently and have the Professor answer for all to hear. After you’d interjected into McGonagall’s head during your first Transfiguration class, she’d had you go straight off to Dumbledore’s office. After a brief discussion, it was found you possessed natural Legilimency skills--something that had only been seen once before. He’d been absolutely transfixed when you told him the first instance had been at the ripe age of 1, in fluent advanced English no less.

You smiled fondly at the memory of his laugh of delight as you’d repeated, ‘Did you hear me, Grandmother? I said I’m hungry.'

Never before had you told that story in any sort of positive light, never got a positive reaction either. Dumbledore had been absolutely enthralled with you from then on.

He had carefully explained the practice of Legilimency, how the mind was a layered thing and could not be ‘read’ simply, like a book. He’d explained how everyone learned it to some advantage of theirs, how no two Legilimens were the same.

After several years of private lessons, it seemed all you’d ever be able to do with your gift was push thoughts, images, and sounds of your own into other’s minds--but this was an incredible feat in itself, a private gift of yours. However, just the year before, it was found that with effort, you could twist the thought to become persuasive, convince the person the thought was their own, and to complete the idea you’d given them. During the first lesson which you found you could do so, you’d been practicing with Dumbledore. Though he was giving no effort at all to resist, you’d silently suggested his tea was abysmal and that he knock it off his desk in disgust. With a twitch of his wrist, the cup shattered onto the floor, shocking you both into silence. It was after this Dumbledore had insisted you promise to never use it for evil, never ever use it with ill intentions--for as a Legilimens himself, he would know. You quickly agreed, of course; you’d never once had the thought to use it with ill motives--aside from maybe having Blakely go for a nice long dip in the creek in the dead of January, but that was a fantasy you kept for yourself to get you through Holidays like these.

Shaking your head of past childhood memories, you turned to your trunk to make sure you did indeed have everything all packed up and ready. You didn’t want to stay a second longer than necessary.

Spotting your cloaks pushed into the depths of your closet, you plucked them from the dark and folded them into your trunk. It wasn’t a moment too soon either, because right as you closed the lid, you heard the boisterous arrival of your best friends as they pulled in the winding driveway driving the enchanted car James’ parents had lent him. You heard an enthusiastic barking whoop and smiled as Sirius’ bright eyes and smile filled your mind.

Your stomach bubbling with excitement, you hastily put Jinx in his cage as he looked around in interest. Picking up his cage, you bounded down the stairs to meet them.

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junowritings · 3 years

Note

how about before being isekai'ed to NRC mc was a vigilante? like a mix of daredevil and batman or like deadpool and red hood? imagining mc using martial arts or macgyvering unassuming everyday objects into weapons to defeat overblots instead of magic seem cool, the funniest scenario, mc using a wooden spoon, a slipper or even if you watched icarly a butter sock to hit and defeat an opponent would be hilarious

Honestly I love the idea of this scenario! Part of me always kind of wished with the overblots is that the MC would get involved somehow - I know it’d be dangerous, but who doesn’t love going a lil feral at some overblot monsters lmao ------

It’s like something straight out of a comic book. Sure, the same thing could be said about your situation - a self-made vigilante fighting to protect those close to you from idiots who think they’re smart enough to cause anything other than trouble - but getting straight up isekai’ed into another universe full of magic and fairy tale rewrites really takes the cake of weird situations you’ve gotten roped into. Guys in masks? You’ve seen them in abundance back home, so while the ‘extravagant’ nature of the headmaster is weird, it doesn’t really phase you. Being surrounded by a bunch of confused boys with vividly bright hair (and do some of those guys have razor teeth? You really don’t wanna find out if they do) and having a talking cat ranting your ear off about becoming the greatest wizard of all time...that’s around the time you figure out this isn’t just some elaborate kidnapping plot.

Being shacked up in this new world isn’t as bad a deal as you thought it would be, though going from physical fights every other week to just having to worry about classes was...an experience, to say the least, and takes a bit of getting used to in terms of putting your guard down. It isn’t long during your stay at Night Raven college that you start garnering attention too, and not just because of the circumstances surrounding your enrollment. Your way of dealing with things is a lot more physical than many of them used to; when Ace had first come to Ramshackle after being collared by Riddle, instead of asking what it was or what he’d done, you’d instead just sat him down and spent the better part of half an hour picking the lock. Granted, it wasn’t enough to crack Riddle’s magic, but Ace is pretty sure he heard something click open while you fiddled with the keyhole - and that was just a speck of some of your skills.

The physical prowess and litheness that comes from your ‘profession’ were valuable assets back in your homeworld, and while you’re not there anymore you’re still able to make use of them in this world, or you try to, at least. It makes for a hell of an entertaining sight during Ashton’s classes - you’ve just about knocked everyone in your class on their ass at least once (both intentionally and unintentionally). It’s been useful getting to lessons too, though you’ve spooked more than a few of your fellow classmates when they’ve caught you scaling the side of the building to skip the stairs and make it to class on time. You’ll never forget the shriek Ace let out when you dove through the window, skidded across the floor, and slid seamlessly into your seat right before the professor came through the door. Things like that have earned you more than a few skeptical looks, but it’s also led to more than a few people coming up to you to ask how you do it.

Just because you’re in a school setting doesn’t mean you slack off on your training. If anything, it means you have to train all the more to make sure you’re not growing rusty - you’re not about to get left in the dust just because all of these guys have wands and this ‘unique magic’ business at their disposal. That being said the lack of a fighting partner makes things difficult; when you first get settled into Ramshackle you find plenty of furniture beyond repair that you’ve been able to use, and with everything being such a cluttered mess it makes for the perfect obstacle course as you fight to clean it all up. But you’re missing your training buddies, and as much as Grim gets on your case about you being his subordinate, you’re not about to get expelled for fighting your magical feline housemate...not just yet, anyway. You do look around for some sparring partners though, and you find some pretty damn good ones in the process. Deuce is one of the first, being quite the fighter in the past, but given that it’s a skill he hasn’t actively trained it doesn’t take long for you to - quite literally - sweep his feet out from under him. Jack’s fairy competent too thanks to all of the muscle, so sparring with those two at once has given you something to bond over after school. As you got to know more students, you found a pretty good training buddy in Rook - you guess being a hunter has its perks, and isn’t that far off from being a vigilante, but it gives you one hell of a lesson to avoid getting on his bad side.

They’ve seen you make impromptu weapons out of things before - you just about took Floyd’s head off with a spatula when he’d rushed through the door unannounced, and Grim keeps finding the ends of the kitchen’s wooden utensils sharpened to a point when he sneaks down for late night snacks. You’re guessing old habits die hard, and it's tricky business completely stopping some of your more bizarre daily tasks.

Looks like those same skills come in handy when the overblots happen however! It’s not as though anyone gives you a crash course on magic overuse and overblotting, so when you see Riddle transform and watch that huge, tank of a thing start forming up behind him you have what you’d like to call, a reasonable reaction. The boys are preparing to fight their overblotted friend when a tea cake stand comes sailing overhead and nails the being behind Riddle directly in the face - or pot, you guess.

The thing is at least physical, which means you can hit it, and your friends are too preoccupied with Riddle to stop you from barging into the fray with just about every impromptu weapon you can get your hands on. Plates, cups, shoes, amongst other things shower the air as you close the distance, and at one point you end up hoisting up one of the garden chairs and swinging it up at the jar head until you have enough momentum to let go. The sound of shattering glass has you letting out a triumphant holler as you backtrack to avoid the spew of ink that spatters across the floor, cracks fanning out across the inkpot‘s surface as its hands fly up to its broken ‘face’ and it howls as though appalled by your audacity.

Whether that actually has a hand in finishing the fight or not, it isn’t long after that the overblot incident passes and Riddle collapses; however, that’s not before you get a couple more hits in, just about bringing the overblot to its knees by the time it finally dissipates for good. Once the Heartslabyul dorm leader is back on his feet and led away to rest and recover somewhere less demolished, that’s when the attention is focused back on you.

There’s more than a few comments about you getting involved in the fight when you have no magic - some comments are admonishing, telling you to be more careful and to not be so reckless; others however are more than a little intrigued by the turnout. Ace just about knocks you over when he claps his hands onto your shoulders and demands to know how the hell you learned to move like that, and Grim is more than a little puffed up bragging about how of course his lackey would be so useful. It catches you off guard - you’re so used to just doing this in your day-to-day life that having someone admonish or praise you is...nice, in a way. It reminds you of when you first took up the vigilante mantle, and you find yourself brimming with excitement at the thought. If they think what you did then was neat, just wait till you tell them about all of your escapades in your home world! You’ve got enough to keep em hooked for days.

#coffee-or-hot-cocoa #twst #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst imagines #imagines #headcanons #twisted wonderland headcanon #twst headcanons #twst deuce #twst ace #deuce spade #ace trappola #grim #twst grim #riddle rosehearts #twst riddle #request #ask

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ask-megamind-blue-defender · 3 years

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The Stupidity is Strong With This One...

People of Metrocity,

As you all have no doubt noticed, our fair city has acquired (and in all probability gotten rid of) a new villain. Who calls himself a supervillain. And really probably isn't. Because for the short time he roamed our streets he made even the most idiotic plots of Destruction Worker look almost brilliant.

Honestly! Even Judge Sludge finds Destruction Worker deficient in the intellect department, and Sludge literally has mud for brains. So when I unfavorably compare someone's mental capacity to that, that's bad. Really, really bad.

A few months ago, I wouldn't have thought it possible. Then Doctor Time Warp happened.

Really! Having to actually fight this guy, in public, was embarrassing! Not to mention time consuming! Because I will say this much: the jerk was tenacious.

For those among my fans who have no idea what their favorite blue hero is talking about, allow me to describe the hilarious yet humiliating spectacle that is Doctor Time Warp.

And yes, I know, I probably shouldn't be giving would-be supervillain's advice, but come on! Good or Bad Guy, professionalism is a requirement in this lifestyle! So I am going to point out a few things that literally everyone should already find obvious.

1.) If you're not a doctor, you're not a doctor!

Look, I know what you've all read in comics, but trust me, no matter what side of "the Cape Game" you're on, titles like "Doctor" and "Professor" are so 1985. And these days, unless you actually hold a doctorate, professorship, or whatever-it-is, you can get sued for that crap. Seriously. Don't do it.

Six years ago, Captain Courage, (who, by the way, really was an army captain before the bizarre microbes in a fallen asteroid gave him superpowers,) actually managed to successfully bring a malpractice suit against Dr. Agony, saying that he was falsely claiming to be a medical professional. The lawyers did the rest. It was, without question, the most hilarious take-down I've ever seen, made more funny by the fact that, back in my villainous days, I told Agony three different times that that name was going to land him in trouble.

Anyway, Doctor Time Warp definitely didn't qualify. Do you know what his last job was before he woke up one day and decided "gee, I think I'll be a supervillain?" Fry cook. Seriously. Who didn't even have a high school diploma. He was sort of like the anti-doctor. I mean, come on, his name was just pretentious. And if the man who once called himself the Incredibly Handsome Criminal Genius and Master of All Villainy says you're pretentious, then trust me, you're pretentious.

Also, his name was just begging for me to blast "The Time Warp" from The Rocky Horror Picture Show at full volume. Which I did.

2.) If you're going to be a professional, look like one!

You all probably already know how I feel about PRESENTATION! It's a vital part of any super's persona. With a name like "Doctor Time Warp" I would have expected a mad scientist look, or at least that he might have sprung for a lab coat. But no. Warp didn't even have a decent uniform. I get it. Not everyone can invent a waterproof, bulletproof, laser-proof environmentally-safe super-fabric, but at least invest in some tights and a cape. Something.

What did Time Warp wear? Footie pajamas. I'm not kidding. Do you have any idea of how embarrassing it is for a professional to be forced to fight a grown man in blasted footie pajamas? Come on!

3.) If you're not a big player, don't try to play a big game!

When I first received a Zoom call (no, really, the idiot actually contacted me on ZOOM,) from someone calling himself Doctor Time Warp, I thought: "ah, a supervillain with time-bending abilities, or maybe a working time machine! This should be an interesting challenge!"

And then I was very sadly disappointed.

No time machine. No special abilities. Nothing.

Do you know why he chose that name? Because he thought it might be fun to have plots themed after every possible holiday and special event on the calendar. Really. Every. Single. One.

Did you know that August 2nd was National Coloring Book Day? Neither did I. But guess who did? And guess who made a truly sad attempt to somehow turn what has to be literally the most innocent pastime in all creation into something evil?

Right. That didn't work out. Kids loved the "evil" coloring pages he scattered all over the city. They weren't even that scary looking... It was like H. P. Lovecraft and Disney decided to do a joint project. Everybody just assumed they were from someone looking to get into the Halloween spirit a little early.

I mean, maybe if they had been soaked in some sort of mind-altering chemical that made every child in Metrocity misbehave at once, it might have at least caused a little chaos. (For the record, I am absolutely NOT suggesting that someone should do that. I WILL hunt you down.) But no... They were only coloring pages. With free crayons. It was practically like a public service.

Then, two days later, on National Chocolate Chip Cookie Day, he attempted to steal all of the chocolate chip cookies in Metrocity. And managed to actually empty one mini-mart and half a grocery store of all of their Chips Ahoy stock. I'm told over a dozen people were mildly inconvenienced by that particular villainous scheme.

In fact, Doctor Time Warp was so pathetic, and I've been so busy with the Doom Syndicate and criminals, that I tried to just ignore him at first. I hoped that if no one encouraged him, he would go away. But he kept showing up with some other harebrained plot every few days because, clearly, he was determined to make a fool of himself. And force me to actually waste my time fighting him.

So I granted his wish. Last week I finally had enough of his irritating boasts, late-night Zoom calls, and ridiculous "plots." He wanted to play with the Big Kids? Fine. I mounted up on the Speeider Bot, laser canons blazing, and (metaphorically) stomped him into the dirt. Then took him to jail. Where he actually tried to get bail.

Sorry, that's not how it works, Cupcake! Supervillains are expected to escape prison! Have fun with that! But, hey, cheer up, Warp! Maybe you can share some of your coloring pages and cookies with your cell mates! It will be just like preschool all over again! Only with more punching. A lot more punching.

Anyway, the point is that if you're going to try to face off with the Incredibly Handsome Heroic Genius and Defender of All Metrocity, you'd better make sure you're up to scratch first. Because my patience only stretches so far. And I swear, the next person to pull this sort of crap WILL go into the alligator pit!

(Granted, Sir Snaps-a-Lot, Spiky, Ally McKill are about as tame as gators can be, and are surprisingly chill, not to mention lazy, so all they'll be likely to do is watch you and decide that waiting for their next meal of raw chicken is far easier than bothering with you. But it's the principle of the thing!)

Don't be that person. That's all I'm saying.

~Megamind

#Megamind #megamind #funny #joke #time warp #dr time warp #dr. time warp #villain #supervillain #fail #epic fail #humor #Metro City #Metrocity #metro city #metrocity #Defender

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lomlmarvel · 4 years

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Only You Pt. V

Only You Series Part 5

Part One | Part Two | Part Three I Part Four | Part Five

Cedric Diggory x fem!reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Summary: The last two challenges. That’s all I have to say for the matter.

A/N: Also, I’m very sorry for the delay in this update :/ I hope writer’s block leaves and I can start on the finale? Please share your comments and reactions with me, I love reading them. Thank you guys so much for the support with this series!

It had been a few weeks since the Yule Ball. Students who had left for the holidays had now returned, and classes were back in session. Y/N had been living on cloud nine since that night with Cedric. The two seemed to be almost inseparable if it wasn't for their different classes. Everyone could see the change in their behavior; it was prominent that something had happened that night of the Yule Ball.

After Y/N had returned to her dorm, Alicia and Angelina bombarded her with questions about her getaway with Cedric. They had seen her leave the ball and walk out hand-in-hand with the older boy. The two were so excited and giggly when Y/N told them the gist of what had happened. She didn't reveal all the details, just general descriptions that she knew the girls would enjoy. After she finished talking, she encouraged the other two to talk about their dates, getting excited for them. It was a few minutes after curfew, which meant everyone should be in their respective rooms. However, someone then knocked on their door.

Y/N walked over to the door, the two other girls setting themselves in bed just in case it was the house head. When she opened the door, Ginny stood there in her pajamas with an annoyed look on her face.

"Is everything okay, Gin?" The older girl asked her. Ginny rolled her eyes and pointed towards the stairs.

"Fred has been shouting your name from the common room for almost 15 minutes. Get him to shut up, please!" Ginny stated before turning around and walking back to her room. Y/N turned back to look at Alicia and Angelina's confused expressions before she walked out to meet Fred.

"Oi! You!" Fred slurred. Y/N quickly shushed him for yelling before she was attempting to drag him over to the sofa. "You abandoned me at the ball!" Y/N stopped pushing him and stopped in her tracks. She sat down on the couch and looked up at him.

"I did, didn't I? I'm so sorry, Fred," She hadn't realized it before, and she felt terrible. "I'll make it up to you, I promise." Fred didn't reply, but instead, he threw himself on the couch and laid his head on her lap.

"He's your boyfriend," Fred mumbled, closing his eyes.

"What?"

"He's your boyfriend," He repeated, "You don't have to feel bad for not hanging out with me. He's your boyfriend, not me," Y/N subconsciously ran her fingers through his red hair and nodded.

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I can't hang out with you and George. You're still my best friends; that's not going to change," Y/N responded. Fred hummed in reply and opened his eyes to look at her.

"You're beautiful; you know that?" She rolled her eyes at his flirty comment and patted his shoulder.

"Who let you drink firewhiskey?" Fred laughed and sat up. "I'm sorry for ditching you, I am. Cedric just makes me feel..." The two looked at each other.

"Like if you're the only person in the entire world?" Fred replied.

"Yes! Exactly," The two laughed together before Fred stood up.

"You can go to sleep now; I'll just bug George until I fall asleep," he stated, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Goodnight, Y/N/N"

She watched Fred walk up the stairs that led to his dormitory. He waved goodnight before disappearing into the darkness. Y/N sat in the common room, taking in her conversation with Fred. It was very much like him to call her when he was wasted, but he spent it dancing and trying to get her to party with him, not to have a short conversation. When he said about feeling like they were the only people in the room, the look on Fred's face was unique. She had never seen him like that before. He reminded her a lot of Arthur when he and Molly would share secret looks across the room. It was like if he was in love.

But back to the spring term, the second challenge was set to be in a few days. Y/N had spent almost every day in the library, trying to find something that could help Harry. Cedric had stated that he had found a spell to help him, but Harry refused to use Cedric's idea. To no luck, she and Hermione hadn't discovered anything quite useful. The day before the challenge, Neville had found the girls in the library and stated that he had found something for Harry. He met with Harry a few minutes later, and the two dished out their plan.

Cedric and Y/N walked hand in hand through the courtyard. They were about to head to the great hall to have lunch before the challenge started, but Professor McGonagall stopped them.

"Oh, Miss Potter! Excuse us, Mr.Diggory, but Professor Dumbledore requires Miss Potter's presence in his office right away," She stated, signaling for Y/N to follow her. Cedric let go of her hand and smiled.

"I'll see you later?" Cedric asked her rhetorically. She nodded and then walked to Dumbledore's office.

It was a few minutes before the challenge started, and Cedric looked for Y/N everywhere. Harry was looking around for his friends and his sister, too, making Cedric more anxious.

"I'm sure they're just running late," Cedric comforted Harry as the younger boy looked nervous.

Before they had gotten on the boats that took them to the arena in the middle of the lake, Neville had told Harry that he wasn't a hundred percent sure their plan would work, something about a debate between salt and freshwater. With his missing best friends and sister, Harry was more nervous than he was when he was fighting a dragon. He wasn't sure what he would face underwater, but the lack of support from the people he needed it the most felt a little bizarre.

Harry stood next to Cedric, along with Fleur and Viktor, on the platform. Dumbledore explained the rules to the rest of the students, as the four champions shivered in their swimsuits. The canons fired, and the four jumped into the lake's freezing water, starting the challenge.

It didn't take long for Harry to find the seaweed maze that he was forced to swim through, finding four people floating underwater, with their legs tied by seaweed, holding them down. As he swam closer, he saw three familiar faces, sending a panic wave to his brain. His two best friends stood next to each other, while his sister was next to Fleur's sister. He quickly reached for his sister's hand and patted her cheeks to wake her up. Concluding that they were all unconscious, Harry swam down to untie his sister's feet. He was then pushed by a mermaid holding some kind of trident. She hissed at his actions, causing him to back away.

"But she's my sister!" Harry said to her. The mermaid hissed again and pointed at Ron, telling him who his 'treasure' was. Harry had no choice but to swim to Ron and began untying him. There was a commotion coming towards him, putting him on high alert. Cedric swam into view and pulled out his wand. The spell he cast cut the seaweed holding Y/N down. Cedric grabbed onto her waist before tapping his watch, telling Harry he had to hurry up.

Harry watched as Cedric swam up with his sister and let out a sigh of relief he didn't even know he was holding in.

Y/N didn't remember much after McGonagall had dragged her away from Cedric earlier that morning. She remembered reaching Dumbledore's office and seeing Hermione and Ron. Dumbledore thanked McGonagall, leaving the Gryffindors alone with the headmaster.

"Professor, what exactly are we doing here?" Y/N questioned him. Dumbledore smiled at the oldest Potter and motioned behind him. Walking down Dumbledore's staircase led down from the collection of books, was the Minister of Magic.

"Are we in trouble, sir?" Hermione added, switching between the minister and Dumbledore.

"Blimey. Mum won't like it if I get in trouble again this year..." Ron whispered to the girls next to him.

"No. No, you are not in trouble, Miss Granger," Dumbledore eased their minds. The door opened, and in walked in one of the Beauxbaton students. She was young and looked scared.

"Thank you for joining us, Miss Delacour," Dumbledore greeted her. He patiently filled in the students on the next challenge, assuring them that they were safe.

The next thing Y/N knew, she was gasping for air in the middle of the Black Lake, with Cedric's arm around her waist keeping her afloat. She searched his eyes for an answer but was pushed towards the platform where the cheering Hufflepuffs extended their arms to help the two. One of Cedric's friends pulled Y/N in and immediately handed her a towel. She wrapped herself tightly, searching for Harry. Cedric walked to her sides and helped her put on his robe.

"Are you alright?" He asked her, his teeth chattering. She nodded, but her attention was back on the water, where she knew Harry was.

"He was right behind me," Cedric said to her. Y/N notice his uncontrollable shaking. He was just wrapped in a towel since he had given her his robe. She wrapped her arms around him, transferring some heat to his ice-cold skin.

Hermione and Viktor surfaced a minute after; Y/N then helped Hermione heat up. She hadn't noticed before, but Fleur stood at the edge of the platform, in a light blue robe looking distraughtly into the water. It finally clicked in her brain when she remembered that Gabrielle had been in Dumbledore's office with them earlier. It also meant that she was still underwater.

Hermione grabbed onto Y/N as the seconds counted down. Harry was meant to pop out any second. The crowd went silent when two heads shot up from the water. It was Ron and Gabrielle. The two were quickly ushered in by the Beauxbaton girls and were surrounded by dry towels in seconds. Dumbledore and the minister rushed down to the platform, a worried look on both of their faces. Cedric walked over to his girlfriend and wrapped an arm around her. The chatter began among the students watching; the last few seconds were on the clock. Suddenly, Harry flew out of the water and landed right on the platform.

Y/N ran to his side, patting him down with the towel she had on. It wasn't long before he was surrounded by Seamus, Ron, Hermione, and a few girls from Beauxbaton. They all worked together, trying to help Harry, who winced when the towels came in contact with his wounds. He had scraped along his legs and arms, a few scratches on his face and neck.

"You saved her, even though she wasn't yours to save. My little sister!" Fleur thanked Harry with a kiss on his cheek. The young teenage boy flushed in embarrassment.

"Thank you! And you-- You helped!" Fleur moved onto Ron, who stood in shock when she kissed him too.

Y/N helped Harry stand up as Dumbledore tried to grab everyone's attention. Different loud conversations were happening everywhere. The guys from Durmstrang were chanting Krum's name, even though he finished second. Cedric's friends were shouting his name since he was the first to surface with his 'treasure.' Others were wondering if Harry would be disqualified for pulling out another champion's loved one.

"Attention! Attention!" Dumbledore shouted. Everyone shut up in a matter of milliseconds. "The winner is... Mr. Diggory!"

The crowd went wild when Cedric's name was announced. Harry smiled at the Hufflepuff, standing right in front of him. As Cedric's friends and his house cheered for him, he reached out for his girlfriend's hand, who was immediately at his side, congratulating him.

"The way I see it, Mr. Potter would have finished first had it not been for his determination to rescue not only Mr. Weasley but the others as well," Dumbledore stated. Cedric looked in Harry's direction and nodded in agreement. "We've agreed to award him second place! For outstanding moral fiber."

The Gryffindor house went wild at the information that Harry won second place. The Durmstrang school was angry that Krum was pushed to third place, but that didn't stop the cheers coming from the Hogwarts students, celebrating the two Hogwarts champions.

It wasn't long until the Golden Trio and the Mischievous trio (Fred, George, and Y/N) were on a boat back to the main grounds. They were laughing and releasing the tension from the challenge to ease all of their minds.

"All that moral fiber, eh?" Fred chuckled at Harry, causing the group to laugh.

"Blimey, even when you go wrong, it turns outright," Ron commented.

"Well done 'moral fiber,'" George teased. The rest of the group continued walking past the Forbidden forest to Hogwarts. Y/N stayed behind with Harry as they noticed the minister waiting for Harry.

"I'm really proud of you, Harry. I'll see you later for dinner," Y/N kissed his cheek. She greeted the minister as she walked past him. The walk back to Hogwarts was loaded with teasing coming from Fred and George, mostly towards Hermione and how she was Krum's treasure.

Later that night, after dinner, Y/N rested against Cedric's chest as he read to her a book his father had gifted him. There was a vacant classroom on the fifth floor that contained random furniture. Students usually hung out there during their free periods if their common rooms were too chaotic for them to rest or do homework. Y/N and Cedric had come to realize that the professors were a little more lenient about curfew hours with them, considering Cedric was competing in the tournament.

Cedric ran his hand up and down her arm, creating heat friction to keep her warm. The castle walls tended to get cold in the spring. In a few weeks, summer would start, and the problem of keeping warm would no longer exist. Y/N played along with the jewelry hanging on her neck, catching Cedric's view. He paused his reading and looked down to see her playing with the necklace he had gifted her.

"Is that the necklace I gave you?" He asked her. Y/N looked up at him and smiled.

"It's our good luck charm," She replied. Cedric tossed his book to the side and flipped her over. Y/N laid on her back, with Cedric now towering over her. She couldn't retain the grin that took over her face when Cedric started kissing up her neck. Wherever his hands met her skin, she felt like a fire-heated up her skin. Their lips connected in a passionate embrace, parting slowly to allow their tongues to meet. Y/N didn't hold back the moan that escaped her lips when Cedric sucked on her sweet spot. Cedric pulled away and smiled at the delightful sounds that she let out.

"We can't do it here, Ced. Anyone can walk in," Y/N panted, her shiny eyes stared up at Cedric. He smiled and nodded before planting another kiss on her lips. He stood up and pulled her against him.

Y/N was confused. Was he mad that she didn't want to have sex in a random classroom on the fifth floor? It would be so embarrassing if a professor or Filch walked in on them.

Y/N started getting even more confused when he began leading her out of the room and into the dark halls of the castle. Cedric showed her in random directions, casually stopping to hear if Mrs. Norris or Filch were walking by. She didn't question his actions until they stopped in front of a dark, tall wooden door.

"Where are we?" She whispered, leaning onto his shoulder. Cedric smiled and pulled open the door.

"It's the Room of Requirements," Cedric answered. Y/N felt the heat on her cheeks when he revealed the room they had been in before. As students in Hogwarts, it was almost impossible to get any alone time anywhere. Let alone anywhere where there was a bed. A few days after the Yule Ball, Cedric and Y/N had come across the Room of Requirements during one of their nightly getaways, finding themselves a place where they could have all the privacy they wanted.

A few hours later, Cedric slowly rocked Y/N to wake her up. Her sleeping figure was something Cedric wanted to be implanted in his memory forever. Her lips were slightly parted, and her hair was a big mess. She looked peaceful and calm. Things she usually wasn't, especially during this time of year. With the end of the year approaching, it was time for students to start focusing on their final grades. But with this year's tournament, Y/N was more worried about the last challenge.

"Hey, darling. You need to wake up; I'm not exactly sure what time it is, but my guess is its breakfast," Cedric got no response from the brunette lying next to him. He let a few moments pass and subconsciously began tracing patterns on her bare skin. It didn't take long for Y/N to stir awake when she felt the tingling sensation on her skin. She rubbed the sleep off her eyes and smiled at the handsome boy staring down at her.

Cedric was lying on his side, his head resting on his hand, as the other hand was still tracing shaped on her skin. He looked so happy and magical. Y/N didn't think Cedric could get even more handsome-r than he already was, and he kept proving her wrong.

"Goodmorning, Ced," Y/N's faint voice cut through before she sat up to stretch. She held the white bedsheet tight to her body while she searched for her clothes. Cedric sat and admired how she so delicately ran her fingers through her hair to calm her wild hair-do. She fixed her hair into a braid when she finished dressing. She turned to see if Cedric was ready and saw the older boy fumbling with his uniform tie.

She had no idea why they even bothered to look civil. It was Saturday, meaning that most students wouldn't even be in their uniformed robes. Their friends would know what happened if they weren't able to sneak back into their dorms without anyone noticing and changing before meeting back up in the Great Hall.

After helping Cedric fix his tie, the two calmly opened the door to reveal that they were in the Gryffindor tower. Y/N let out a sigh of relief when she saw Alicia and Angelina walk out of the common room and down the stairs. If she were lucky, that meant everyone had already left to eat breakfast. Cedric walked her to the portrait of the Fat Lady and leaned against the wall.

"My dad sent me a letter yesterday. He asked if you were coming for your summer break," Y/N looked at Cedric to see the sincerity behind his question. It wasn't out of the blue that he asked this question. He had been dropping hints about wanting Y/N to meet his parents since they began dating. Sure, Y/N had met his father, but they didn't really have a chance to converse; with the game and then the death eaters attacking, there wasn't much time for open conversation. Cedric already knew that his father adored Y/N, having heard many stories from Arthur and Cedric. He knew his mother would love her; it was inevitable. Y/N had the power to make anyone enjoy her presence. Even people that ultimately disliked her; even had to admit that her attendance wasn't as bad as they wished.

"I have to ask my aunt and uncle, but I'm confident they'll say yes. They'd rather have one wizard at home than two," Y/N replied, staring down at him. He looked adorable with puffy eyes and swollen lips. She's sure the two of them didn't get enough sleep, but if they were gone for a few more hours, people would have started to notice.

"He's going to be so excited," Cedric replied, a small smile appearing on his face.

The rest of the day was uneventful. The two decided to spend the day at Hogsmeade, having caught breakfast shortly after they changed out of their day-old clothes. Angelina, Alicia, and a few of Cedric's friends noticed the two walk into the Great Hall and pointed out their tired faces. Cedric ignored them all and focused on eating breakfast to walk away from their playful teasing. Y/N, on the other hand, was a blushing mess. She had thankfully avoided running into her younger brother and his best friends, along with her two best friends, who would play the joke out for too long.

After escaping their teasing, Cedric and Y/N caught the group of students heading to Hogsmeade for a few hours. Flitwick was in charge of taking the group this weekend, seeing his small figure at the front of the group. Hogwarts students, along with Beauxbaton girls and Durmstrang boys, accompanied the assemblage.

As the seasons started to shift from Spring to Summer, more traveled to Hogsmeade and didn't worry about freezing to death on the way back to Hogwarts. Cedric and Y/N walked around the small shops, stopping to buy sweets from Honeydukes and enjoying butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks. Towards the end of their trip, they invited Flitwick for a butterbeer, which he graciously accepted.

Professor Flitwick admitted that he enjoyed having Y/N Potter as a student. He admired her patience and generosity. When he had first met her, she was just a first-year, confused and amazed by the wizarding world and her family history. Quickly, she adapted to their new world and culture and effortlessly enchanted most professors with her fast learning and determination to learn as much as she could. When she started to hang out with the Weasley twins, he was worried she would turn into them and get caught in between their reckless pranks. However, she became best friends with them and managed to influence them into getting their work done. She wasn't as successful in stopping their tricks but rather stayed far away from most of them. But unknowingly to the charms professor, she was the brain behind most. She chose the prank receivers and made sure not to target her favorite professors, leading to Filch and Snape being on the receiving end of most pranks.

When Harry joined Hogwarts, Flitwick expected him to be more like his older sister. But mischief found Harry more than it did with her. He could see their father's mischievousness DNA in them both. Hanging out with Weasleys only added to that lifestyle.

He was pleased and grateful to have been able to watch this incredible young witch grow into the potential he had seen in her from her first day in class. Y/N had surpassed every expectation, and with each year, she exceeded herself. It was unprofessional for Hogwarts professors to gossip about their students, but they thoroughly enjoyed talking about their drama and playing matchmakers. McGonagall and Trelawney had betted that Fred and Y/N would end up dating; however, they were all surprised when she and Cedric were seen holding hands. Sprout and Flitwick decided to place bets that Cedric and Y/N would wound up getting married after Hogwarts and being happily married.

When the topic of them getting married was first brought up, McGonagall couldn't help but snicker and note that Lily Evans was charmed by James Potter's intelligence, mischievousness, and adventurous spirit. It was something that she noticed in Fred. Sprout brought up the fact that Y/N was already in love with Cedric, and their love was something she had never really seen in such young students. Professor Flitwick only sneered and enjoyed their conversation before changing directions to a serious matter. Professor Trelawney sat in silence, holding her cup of tea close to her chest. She felt a dark presence whenever she thought of the young couple. She wanted them to be happy, but she could see a heavy cloud in their future; something big and horrible was in their future. She was fearful and kept it to herself, but she knew she couldn't keep it to herself.

The remaining weeks of the term were spent studying for exams and preparing the champions for the final challenge. Students were shaken with news when they found out that the minister of magic was found dead in the Forbidden Forest. Students were assured that they were safe and would get to the bottom of it, but no new information was discovered.

It was the morning of the last challenge, and everyone was excited. After this, the champion would get crowned, and everyone would celebrate a successful tournament. Regardless of who won, the three schools had enjoyed their stay together and had made friends. Y/N had been helping Harry learn new defensive spells, teaching him dueling tricks that Flitwick had taught her and those that her godfather, Remus, had practiced with her before she knew he was her godfather.

"McGonagall asked me to join you during the opening ceremony, is that alright?" Y/N asked her younger brother. The two hung out in the owl tower to calm Harry's nerves before the challenge.

"That'd be great, thanks, Y/N," Harry turned to look out the massive arch. He could see almost everyone, those in the courtyard, the castle grounds, quidditch field, but what attracted him the most was Cedric and his father walking in the yard.

He was invited to attend, to support his son. Krum and Fleur had their headmasters join them, Cedric had his father, and Harry was thankful for Y/N. He was grateful for his friends for supporting him, even those who thought he had cheated. He really hoped any of the other champions won; he didn't want or need the glory. He only wanted to make his sister and his friends proud.

Before Harry noticed, he was on the field, his sister comfortingly grabbing his arm while sporting a matching shirt to his. Cedric and Amos stood a few feet far from them, next with Fleur and Krum with their headmasters. Dumbledore had just thanked the band for their musical support and had introduced the final challenge.

"Earlier today, Professor Moody placed the tri-wizards cup deep within the maze. Only he knows its exact position. Now, as Mr. Diggory," The crowd went wild, and the Potters turned to see his blushing cheeks. Cedric looked in the direction of his girlfriend, a broad grin on his and his father's face, who proudly lifted his arm in the air.

"And Mr. Potter tied for the first position they will be the first to enter the maze. Followed by Mr. Krum and Ms. Delacour," As students cheered for their friends and classmates, Harry tuned out. He felt off since the morning. Something about that day didn't feel right. He didn't want to bother his sister, but little did he know she felt the same way.

On her way to breakfast that morning, Professor Trelawney had asked her to join her in her office. The divinations professor led Y/N to a seat where she began to ramble and stutter on her words.

"Professor, are you feeling well?" Y/N asked. Trelawney stopped her stuttering when the young woman grabbed her trembling hands in her own.

"If it's about the last challenge, I can assure you; I helped train Harry. He will be fine," Y/N assured her. The Professor smiled and remembered why she enjoyed having her as a student. She was caring and gentle with others, always bringing a soothing and tender aura with her.

"Young girl, I didn't want to alert you, but I feel a presence," this caught the younger witch's attention. "It's cold and dark. I feel death and confrontation around your future. I just had to let you know," Trelawney cut herself off as to not worry Y/N much more. Y/N nodded, and her smile faltered.

"Thank you, Professor. I know your best interest is in us and I am sure I'll be fine. I can't worry too much right now; the term is almost over. Maybe we can talk about this next term?" The younger woman smiled. Trelawney nodded in return and watched as she walked out of her classroom. She didn't know whether to run after her and explain that the dark presence was surrounded on that particular day. She decided to think about her decisions further and wait for the best.

Professor Trelawney knew that the older Potter was very well aware of their famous connection with He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named or how Harry and Y/N referred to him, Voldemort. It wasn't a surprise that he tried to make himself come back every few months to attack Harry. It had been a few months since the Death Eaters attacked the World Quidditch Cup, and that was the last time they had heard of anything having to do with Voldemort and his group of cowards.

The ministry had been keeping a very close eye on dark magic and former death eaters. They knew a successful Triwizard Tournament would ease the minds of many wizarding families, and that meant that they could get back to their regular business.

Y/N, however, felt eerie after leaving the divination classroom. Something didn't seem right about Trelawney being so worried. She usually just muttered that fate was fate, and they just had to accept it. She loved to teach her students everything she knew about the foretelling of the future, but usually, her predications were about mild things like upcoming exams and OWL's. Y/N didn't want to worry Harry or Cedric with this, so she kept it to herself.

"Hey, there you are! We've been looking everywhere for you," Cedric had greeted his girlfriend earlier. They were making their way out of the Great Hall, where Amos had accompanied Cedric during breakfast. It had been a bit weird, but he was thankful to have his father at his side.

"Hey, I was with Trelawney; she wanted to talk to me about something," Y/N smiled at Cedric before turning to the older Diggory, "Good morning, Mr. Diggory, it's great to see you."

Amos smiled sweetly at his son's girlfriend. The last time he had seen her, she was being whisked away by Cedric, who wanted to spend some alone time with her at the Quidditch World Cup.

"Hello, Y/N. Excited for today?" He asked her. Y/N smiled in return and replied. While his father and his girlfriend chatted amongst themselves, Cedric couldn't help but tune out. He knew it was premature of him to think of this, but he knew that Y/N was the love of his life. She was the one he was meant to be with forever. He had countlessly written to his parents throughout the year about his relationship with Y/N; he confessed when she had broken up with him and told them when they got back together.

Amos knew Cedric was in love with Y/N. He felt it when he read his letters, but he knew it when he saw his son's eyes when he spotted the young Gryffindor. His eyes lit up in milliseconds, and his entire mood had changed. He had never seen his son, so in love, and that's all it took for him to love Y/N, too.

"I'll see you at the opening ceremony? I'm meant to meet Harry after breakfast," Y/N looked back at Cedric. He snapped out of his thoughts and just smiled in return.

"Yeah, sure. I'll see you later," He turned to look at his father, who had turned to occupy himself with one of the portraits near the Great Entrance. Cedric quickly kissed his girlfriend, blushing deeply when he noticed his father's attention had fallen back on them.

"See you later, Mr. Diggory," Y/N excused herself before entering the Great Hall to join her friends for breakfast.

Dumbledore gathered all the champions around him. He talked through some rules first before preparing them for the countdown. Cedric had hugged his father, and Y/N had pecked Harry on the cheek.

"On the count of three... ONE---" Filch accidentally fired the cannon, pressuring Harry and Cedric to step into the maze. Once they stepped further into it, their entrances were closed off from the audience's eyes. After, Krum followed in with Fleur a few seconds behind.

Mr. Diggory walked over to Y/N and invited her to sit next to him. Y/N agreed and thanked him before following him to the arena seating. She hugged Arthur Weasley, who had been patiently watching from the audience as his son's best friend and his close friend's son waited to compete against each other.

"Exciting isn't it!" He commented, watching as the band started to play music to entertain the audience.

Almost an hour had passed, and with each second that continued, Y/N grew even more anxious. Fleur had been the first to be rescued from the maze. Her school, along with everyone else, applauded her. It wasn't long until Krum appeared with defeat on his face, disappointed that he didn't win. Everyone waited for either Harry or Cedric to appear after him, but no one came.

Dumbledore began to worry as well until the two teenagers apparated with the Goblet at their feet. However, Y/N was the first to leave her seat when she saw Harry clutching onto her boyfriend's shirt.

Tag:

@lilulo-12 @malfoys-demigod @ladyblablabla @truly-insatiablem @dottirose @lovinnholland @ziggyspurplehaze @firefliesindaylight @inmygardensuit @bebana-7913 @suixdal-dreams29 @onebatch--twobatch @degeathesaviour @sunles

#cedric diggory #cedric diggory imagine #cedric x reader #cedric diggory x reader #cedric x y/n #Harry Potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #Fred and George #fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #imagine #Only You series #robert pattinson #robert pattinson imagine

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missdawnandherdusk · 4 years

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Ravenclaw Extensive Dating a Malfoy Headcanons:

Okay, so other than Ravenclaw and Slytherin I have two series with Draco and the other houses but they don’t always get the little moments so here I am adding them in as well as beginning the remaining houses. (Of course you all know how I feel about sorting but for the sake of Draco Malfoy being happy I’ll set that aside). Yes this has been done before but come on, you’re gonna read it anyway. I’ll do one for each house promise.

So being ravenclaw comes with the name calling “nerd” “four eyes” “freak” “weirdo” ya know real high brow stuff

Mostly it comes from Draco and his Slytherin classmates they feel threatened, you’re smart, go figure

It’s not that you’re “smart” it’s that you want to learn especially if you’re Muggle born because WHAT DO YOU MEAN MAGIC EXISTS

So you get good. Very good. At everything. Which infuriates Draco because you surpass him in Potions

He fails a Transfiguration quiz and McGonagall asks you to help him because you’re probably the only one who won’t punch him a-la-muggle

You protest but it’s no use, and McGonagall said she’ll give you extra credit and house points so, ya know what bring it

He hates it of course, sulking the entire time, muttering about “if my father knew about this” which just makes you smile because good lord he’s ridiculous

Your tutoring sessions give you time with Draco alone and though the first few times you’re terrified and stumble over your words, you get more comfortable with him and he’s less snappy at you

He has an ambition for knowledge, you have the means to give it to him

Soon he’ll start sitting next to you in class because you’re notes make more sense to him than the professor’s do

You come to realize that “oh my stars Draco might be dyslexic like you” you don’t mention it to him because you know he’d just shut down and get aggressive but it explains why he likes your notes so much: he can actually read them

People still make fun of your for your brains and knowledge, but it starts to fade over time and unbeknownst to you, Draco began to threaten anyone who bullied you; which accidentally put you on edge because you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop

You’re reading up on the American Revolution and Wizards involvement in the war when Draco comes to you, grinning

You look up at him, nervous and expecting

He hands you his latest Charms exam

He got full marks

You’re so excited you forget yourself and hug him which leads to blushing and awkward “good job” and “thanks”

One day Harry is being Harry with Draco and “she’s only helping you because she’s getting extra credit and house points” Draco knew that but hearing it from Harry is different

You go straight to McGonagall and tell her you don’t want the credit or points anymore you don’t tell draco this, because well... you don’t know

Your study session become less laughter filled and fun... Draco seems almost too distracted to focus on anything he’s moping

You reach over one time in class and draw a smiley face on his notes while he’s sulking. When he glares at you, you offer a smile and maybe he smiles back

“Are you okay?” You write under the smiley face. “Fine.” He scrawls. “I don’t believe you”

He stares at you like you have two heads. No ones ever pressed past his “I’m fine” charade before

That night you’re studying and he comes to you and starts to talk. It starts with school but it goes on to how his family is doing and the looming war and then he finally admits that he’s not as put together as he looks and that the only friend he has is being “paid” to be with him

“Draco, I stopped getting extra credit months ago,” You finally explain what you did after what Harry said that one day and he’s just dumbfounded so maybe his only friend wasn’t being paid to be with him

You introduce him to Muggle Coffee Monsters for late night studying and occasional all nighters theyre “really really really really good” he’s practically bouncing in his seat. You wonder if he’s ever had caffeine before...

You fail a potions test. Badly. Not that you meant to but you don’t know what happened. You try everything to hold back tears because you’ve never failed before. Draco gets perfect marks and you’re just dying inside and so ashamed because you’re supposed to be smart

Draco finds out even though you try to keep it from him and he chases after you in the hall not before pleading with Snape to have you redo the exam. Snape allows it

“Just leave me alone Draco,” you snap. “Just wait!” He calls. “Leave me alone!” You pull out your wand against him and he just freezes. You realize what you’ve done and run, tears streaming down your face

You don’t talk to him in class because you’re just so confused and ashamed and sorry. He slides a note over. “You’re more than a grade,” is written in his careful script. There’s a smiley face too.

You finally peek over at him and he offers you a smile now you’re really confused

You keep that note and whenever you’re stressed or get a grade less than you wanted you read it until the paper is faded and worn from its wear.

You retake the exam you take after Draco spends the week beforehand making sure you know exactly what you’re doing

“You can do this,” He insists. “No I can’t,” you groan, hopeless. “You’re being ridiculous, come on wise girl, if I can do it so can you.” The nickname started as a taunt but now it was something that only Draco was allowed to call you

You get full marks on your retake and run to find Draco and hug him in the middle of the Great Hall with everyone watching and maybe you kiss him because he believed in you when he leads to awkward blushing and stammering apologies before he pulls you back and really kisses you

There’s a chorus of “finally”s from the surrounding students and a few cheers the whole school shipped you two and it was just frustrated to watch you two pine for another

Draco leads you to a quiet corner of the castle, your exam still in your hand as he really asks you if you want this—to be with him. He knows he’s not the best person and goes on listing why he’s a bad person and yadda yadda yadda

You tell him if you’re more than a grade he’s more than a Slytherin

You start dating

Cue blushing and nervous Draco because “I’ve never had a girlfriend what am I supposed to do? Flowers? Chocolate? Dates? Handholding?” The poor boy is a mess

“Draco, sweetheart. Calm down you’re doing fine,” you laugh one afternoon as he fumbles over asking you to hogsmeade with him. “It’s just me,” he just feels so pressured to be perfect you constantly remind him that he doesn’t have to be, not for you

You still study together but sometimes you just end up cuddling. Except on the nights you have an exam the next day or an essay due “Draco I will hex you to next week if you don’t focus”

You both aren’t sure how to be affectionate towards another. Sure you’ve read books and he’s seen other do it but you two are so bad at just talking without stammering or blushing

So you start writing down how you feel and what you want to do and what you’re comfortable with, and he’ll respond and you two actually get somewhere because you’re communicating it’s not “the norm” but at least you’re communicating

Reading books under trees; late nights in the library; sitting together in class; holding hands in the halls; “wise girl” and “pretty boy”

Your friends are happy to see that your happy and can appreciate Dracos ambition for knowledge and that you both are a bit competitive when it comes to grades

His friends are a bit cold and distant and snappy sometimes, but you don’t mind much, you know it’s not a commonality for Slytherin to date outside of House

Draco spoils you at every turn. “You looked at this book in the shop so I got it signed by the author for you” / “you said you wanted this quill once... so here” / “I will never understand Muggle stores but I picked up more Oreos and Monsters” / “I saw this necklace and it reminded me of you so I bought it” / “you lost your other scarf so I got you this new one. It’s unicorn silk” / “here, this bag is enchanted so you can carry all of the books you want and not have to carry the weight”

You love him a little more with each thing he gets you because they’re the most bizarre things that you didn’t know you wanted but somehow he did. He’s like a bird “I saw this shiny rock and wanted you to have it”

Your parents adore him. They were a bit wary about you dating a Malfoy/Slytherin but he spends one afternoon and dinner with your family and they’re completely smitten and tell him to come back any time especially when they hear about getting you that retake exam

His parents are a bit more reserved towards you. Until Narcissa sees Draco smiling at you as you talk about the history of something he really couldn’t care less about but you’re so excited he can’t help but stare and she sees your wisdom and ambition and wonders if the Sorting Hat made the right call about you

Lucius doesn’t talk down to you not that he talked much at all to you but when you ask him more about his job at the ministry/his peacock/family history/possible Veela descent he’s absolutely taken with you because you remind him of a young Narcissa especially when you snip right back at Draco. Lucius chokes on his drink when he hears you call Draco “pretty boy” and Narcissa grins at him because that’s her nickname for him

When Draco takes the Dark Mark you can bet your Galleons your spending every night looking into Dark Magic and how it works to truly understand what’s happening. You feel less panicked when you know what’s going on good or bad and you help Draco understand too

Which means you’re talking to Snape a bit more. Not to use the magic, but you want to know. You don’t want Draco to feel like he’s alone in all of it. You find spells that make the Mark burn less and affect his thoughts/mood less

When Draco starts to slip behind on grades again during Sixth Year, you go back to tutoring him, with gentle encouraging words and soft promises that he can do it

After the war you encourage him to come back to school and finish and though he’s terrified to face anyone his ambition for knowledge is still there and you’ve become a lot more terrifying since learning dark magic that people back off when they see you

Tags: @coffee-addicti @msmcsmutt @ravn-87 @artemismohr18 @whygz @crazywritingbug @fuzzy-panda@bitemebro522 @zombiesnips-blog @jillanaholland @shookyungsoo @savingdraco @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @akari180 @slytherin-emerald @chaotic-good-gemini @memalfoy-spidey@theres-a-dog-outside-omg @queenfeatherwings @fanficflaneuse @go-whovian-universe @spicyshenanigans @darling-im-not-okay-i-promise@dietkiwi@katsukink @takemetothekingdom @strangerr-things@tmnt-queen @mccloudchloe @hxneybgb @justsomerandomgur @belcvayelena @moviesbooksandfandoms @howdycharlie@xtrashmouthxtozierx @cocochanelthepupper@ninacotte@mccloudchloe @braelynn-j @jiggllyy @honeymarvel@go-whovian-universe @darcypottah @atomicpunkrock@thiccheerioss @lottie289 @boredashaeck @beautiful-pegasus @tceedlmao @deadlynyghtshayde @iconjuresnapeingrandmaclothes @anonymous034 @bi-andready-tocry @lunna-does-real-doodle @dragonsandbread @atomicwonderlandmentality @okaydraco @the–queen-of-hell @langdonzvoid @cmxreader @alienmotel @oh-itsnothing @tulippings @thestressedprincess @sunflowerxsadnessw @caps-wilsonn @fattycooter @angelotakunerd08 @thisisahugemistake @fanficsigottaread @gweaslvy @okaydraco @strawberriesonsummer @ughjjloveme @honeymarvel @gaysludge @cleopatera

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tarteausuga · 3 years

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Not Like This

In which you’re caught in a situation where no one can be happy

WC: 3K

CW: Jungwoo x Reader (x Mark vaguely) angst, a lot of angst. Cheating, unhealthy relationship, mild manipulation. Usual disclaimer that the characters are purely works of fiction and are not directly correlated to their namesakes in any way.

Prompt: “We can’t keep this up forever.” Part of the Candy Hearts Collab (click link for other members) hosted by @127-mile

Outwardly, the last word you would use to describe Jungwoo was “exhilarating” but he always had a way of surprising you. He was amazing. Amazing in his ability to show anyone exactly what he wanted. He had you fooled for a long time as well. Soft spoken, unassuming, funny Jungwoo who was polite to everyone he came across, put a smile on everyone's face and was the perfect boyfriend to his girlfriend.

He treated her like a princess. At least from what you could see. Watching them was pure agony and it didn't help that he had the audacity to occasionally take a glance at you with that conniving smirk on his face, all while with his girlfriend. Were you jealous of her? Rarely. Pity is what you felt whenever you passed by her but more than anything, guilt was the heaviest weight of all.

What am I doing here? You questioned yourself whenever you were with him. He was nothing like how he was with his girlfriend or friends. At least not with you. But who could deny late night adventures with him? Who was he to you anyway? A friend? He couldn't be your boyfriend… at least not now. You felt ashamed to know that you were an accomplice to infidelity. They looked so damn perfect. But were they?

[2:34AM] jungwoo: hey, you up? I'm outside your place.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes as they adjusted to the light from your phone.

[2:36AM] you: I am now?? It's so late, what are you doing?

[2:37AM] jungwoo: not sure, let's find something together :)

[2:37AM] you: I'm not wearing pants…

[2:38AM] jungwoo: is that an invitation? ;)

[2:38AM] you: shut up, I'm coming down now.

You begrudgingly pull on a pair of track pants and throw on a hat to cover your bed head before leaving to meet up with Jungwoo. If it were anyone else, you would have pretended to not see the text at all. There always seemed to be this inescapable pull towards him whether you liked it or not because those moments where it was just the two of you in the dead of night made you feel like time slowed down. The way he accepted you into his arms and pulled you in to fit perfectly into his ever so perfectly proportioned frame - it felt like home. He kissed you ever so softly but deeply enough to make you believe that those kisses were meant for you and you alone.

But you knew that they weren't.

The tricky thing with Jungwoo is that he made you feel like the most important person to him while also feeling like he didn't want to be seen with you. Otherwise, he wouldn't call you when most of the world was asleep. You wouldn't have to sneak around behind everyone's backs. You wouldn't have to fantasize about the simplest things like holding his hand while he walked you to class.

And yet, it was worth it to you. For some bizarre reason, you were just happy to be with him and didn't care under what circumstances.

"Hey baby," he pulled you in and placed a kiss on your forehead. "Sleepy?" He smiled as he lifted your head up by your chin. The sleep was apparent in your eyes but that softened him even further. The layers of his outer persona melted away and suddenly you were left with Jungwoo in the purest form.

"What are we doing?" You hold back a yawn. He was so warm, so comforting, you just wanted to fade into him.

"I don't know yet but I'm sure we can find someone, right?" He smiled and reached out for you to follow along.

Night and day, that was exactly how Jungwoo behaved. The daytime version was this upbeat guy that made everyone laugh. People gravitated towards him naturally. He was the sun and you were Pluto. At night, the real Jungwoo would come out, the Jungwoo you fell in love with despite your best efforts to distance yourself when you found out he wasn't single. But something about him was irresistible. It could be the way he confided in you. His fears, his dreams, his most obscure thoughts that didn't fit into his days so he expressed them to you in his nights. Maybe that's why he wanted to keep you in the dark but that didn't make things any better.

Even so, with the guilt locked away in the back of your head, you happily spent the dark hours with Jungwoo. It was never anything extravagant. You often bought convenience store food and sat on a random park bench, talking about anything and everything. You took turns sneaking into each other's apartments in efforts to not wake your respective roommates. It was tradition to leave before daybreak so you often woke up by yourself, wondering if the night before was a dream.

There were times when you questioned your own sanity. Did Jungwoo only exist in your dreams? When it came to the Jungwoo you see everyday on campus, he was a different person. The extended periods of not seeing him for weeks at a time convinced you that maybe it wasn't real at all. The quiet glances you exchanged during the day were purely coincidental and your dreams were just dreams.

But when you least expected it and you had begun accepting that Jungwoo was just a dream, he would pull you away at random points during the day to remind you that he was very much real. Is this what love feels like? The rush of pure elation when you're with The One? The cliche feeling of time stopping? Or was this the excitement of getting caught and maybe worse, the everlasting awareness of how wrong this was that you tried to keep tucked away in the darkest parts of your mind.

---

It had been almost a month since Jungwoo last lured you out from the warmth of your bed. A month since you last felt his lips on yours. A month since he made you laugh until your sides ached. Maybe he finally realized this wasn't right for either of us. You conceded. It was time to move on. And though you kept waiting for him to find you in the halls to pull you into an empty office or lecture hall, it didn't happen. Instead, you felt the pull of someone wanting you both day and night.

Mark had been your friend for a while. The two of you were in the same group for orientation week and for some reason, you kept in touch. He often joked that it was because you are both perfectly awkward to the point where you combined to make one functional person. No matter the reason, he was a good friend but you were still surprised when he asked you out. You could say you saw it coming with your best friend constantly saying how Mark could never stop asking about you but it never clicked in your head to be true. Likely too caught up in Jungwoo's world, you never stopped to experience your own.

So you said yes.

Things felt so easy with Mark. It was nice to not have to sneak around to go out with someone you kind of liked. He walked you to class, held your hand and did the simplest things to make your heart flutter. Mark never pulled you away for no reason. He didn't take your breath away but he certainly made you feel safe and warm. You tried your best to forget about Jungwoo and it was starting to work. Eventually, Jungwoo became an afterthought with Mark around but as always, Jungwoo always had a way with you.

Walking to get lunch one day, you felt a sudden pull on your wrist. Turning, you see Jungwoo. Your brain told you to pull away at risk of Mark seeing you but your heart wanted to follow Jungwoo. And follow him, you did, into an empty classroom with the lights off. The moment you entered, Jungwoo closed the door behind you and pulled you into his arms.

"I missed you." His voice nearly broke.

"Where have you been?" You melt into his body.

"Things got a bit complicated…" he looked down, staring at your lips.

"Tell me." You stared back.

Before either of you could say anything more, you kissed each other desperately. A craving you didn't know you had was being fulfilled and it was truly intoxicating. You were addicted to him. As your mind finally caught up to what you were doing, the thought of Mark being hurt by what you were doing flashed into your brain. The guilt got caught in your throat and you pushed him away.

"What are you doing?" He said, offended that you would reject him at all.

"We can't keep this up forever." You say as you gasp for a breath.

"What do you mean?" He tries to pull you back into the kiss.

"This, Jungwoo!" You finally push him off and motion to the

"Can we not do this now? Please." He reached for your hand but you pulled away. As much as you missed him and wanted to dissolve into his arms again, it was too much.

"We do this now or we're done. We're hurting people and it's not okay anymore." You cross your arms.

"What? You really want to be with Mark? Yeah right, like you're not just using him to-" he was cut off by the ringing of your phone. He tries to snatch it away from you but you pull away before answering the call.

"Hey Mark." You try to sound as normal as possible.

"Hey, I thought we were meeting up after class. Are you okay?" He says.

Jungwoo is now glaring at you and the waves of jealousy were more apparent now than ever but you continue your conversation, "Yeah, sorry, I had to talk to my professor about something. I'm heading over to meet you now."

The call ended and you wished that would mark the end of your confrontation with Jungwoo. "Don't go." He sounded like he was begging.

"This isn't going to end well for anyone. We need to just end things before we can't turn back." You sigh as you collect your bag. It took every ounce of your being to not plant a kiss on his cheek to say goodbye like you usually did. This was likely the last time you would have this chance but you pass in favour of just cutting things off completely.

You tried to forget about Jungwoo. You really tried. You wanted to have the same feelings that you had for Jungwoo with Mark but it wasn't sitting right at all.

"Are you okay?" Mark asked from across the table at the cafe you two were studying at.

"Hmm?" You responded.

"You seem really spaced out. Did something happen?" He said with honest concern.

"No… well yeah but… it's complicated." You struggle to explain.

"What's going on?" He held your hand but you instinctively pulled away, leaving him confused and mildly offended.

"You're going to think I'm a terrible person."

"You think peaches are better than watermelon, how much worse can you get?" He smiled and you reciprocated.

Why does he have to be so nice and cute? You cursed at yourself.

"Peaches are a more practical fruit than watermelon." You joke back and the two of you chuckle but it didn't make things any easier to say.

"Whatever it is, I'm your friend. I know I asked you out and I'm not quite sure what we are at this point but I like you no matter how bad you think what you're doing is." He assured you and you once again, curse yourself for what you're about to do.

"Hypothetically…" you say slowly and he listens intently. "Hypothetically, let's say you're seeing someone but they're already someone's boyfriend or girlfriend…"

"Hypothetically that would be messed up." Mark concludes.

"I'm not done." You glare at him and he shrugs. "But hypothetically, let's say the person you're seeing is more real and raw with you than anyone else. And you feel a stronger connection to them than anyone else."

"I think hypothetically," he emphasizes for your sake, "it's still wrong. Everyone would just end up hurt in the end no matter what happens." He sits back in his chair, waiting for your response.

"Yeah, I know. Why do I have to have a conscience?" You bury your head into your crossed arms across your open textbook.

"Is that what's happening?" Mark leaned in.

"Yeah but I broke things off." You say with your head still hidden from the world.

"For me?" Mark smirks but you look up to glare at him.

"Partially for you but mainly because I'm fully aware that it's wrong." You sigh.

"I'll be honest, I like you a lot. But I think with the way you talk about this person, you're still attached to them."

"I'm sorry, Mark." You pout at him.

He holds your hand again, lifting it up to place a kiss on your hand. "I'll be alright. I just hope you will be too.”

---

"I don't get why you broke up with Mark. That guy is like… The ideal boyfriend." Your best friend ranted over the phone.

"We weren't together so we didn't break up." You clarify as you squeeze the bridge of your nose. She had been your best friend for 15 years so, naturally, she had an amazing talent of giving you headaches with little to no effort.

"Are you even aware of how many girls who are absolutely in love with that guy? And you broke up with him?" She practically yells.

"I'm aware and once again, we didn't break up!” You remind her.

"Whatever. You're the one whining about being alone on Valentine's Day."

"No, you're the one who called me to whine about Valentine's Day and you're the one with a boyfriend. What? Jaehyun only got you one dozen roses except for two?" You chuckle.

"We've been together for two years. It makes sense to get two dozen."

"Alright, alright. Go talk to him about it, I'm sure he'll make it up to you in other ways." You say suggestively and you swear you could hear her blush over the phone.

"Shut up! Oh my god. Please call Mark and ask him to hang out. You're too cute to be alone today." She said before you hung up on her.

You tossed your phone onto your bed before doing the same with your body. Maybe I should call Mark… But I'm the one who ended things… I could call him but he's probably with his girlfriend. You groaned in frustration as your best friend's words resonated in your head. She's right though. Mark is the ideal boyfriend but so is Jungwoo… If he were single. Why is this happening to me?

A knock came from the front door of your apartment. Your roommate was out for the night with her boyfriend so you were puzzled about who would be coming to visit.

"Hey." A slightly disheveled Jungwoo greeted you when you opened the door.

You try to harden your expression for him but he's truly your weakness. Especially in this state where he's looking like he hadn't slept in who knows how long. "What are you doing here?" You finally ask when you let him in and he collapses on the sofa.

"I'm here to see you." He says but you roll your eyes.

"Okay but why? Why aren't you spending Valentine's Day with your girlfriend?" You interrogated him.

"Oh. We broke up." He said nonchalantly.

"You what? When?"

"A week ago… I was trying to call or message you but I couldn't get through." He says and you tell him you blocked his phone number. "That's harsh… but what about you? Why aren't you with Mark?" He throws the ball back in your court.

"We stopped seeing each other…" you say quietly and Jungwoo looks at you with wide eyes.

"When?"

"Right after I broke things off with you. Things just didn't feel right." You explained but realized you had done a terrible job at that.

"I see…" The two of you sat in silence for a few moments before you heard him say quietly, “she was cheating on me the whole time.”

Shocked was an understatement for the flood of emotions you were suddenly experiencing. “That doesn’t make what we were doing any less wrong.” You resolved to say.

“I know. I don’t really know why I didn’t just break up with her…”

“So… what? You just used me to make yourself feel better?” You accused him.

“What? No! I care for you more than I have ever cared about anyone else.”

“Then why didn’t you leave her? Why did you choose her?” You stood up, demanding an answer.

“I…” He started but hit a wall in trying to come up with a reasonable answer. This wasn’t how he was planning for this to go. This wasn’t how he played this out in his head. What could he possibly say to make you less upset with him? How could he fix this?

“It’s funny because I thought that we really had something and I was delusional enough to think that we could work…” You started and he stared at you intently. “But I’m still just your second choice.”

“You’re not…” he said, sounding out of breath.

“I am! You wouldn’t be here otherwise. You wouldn’t have started anything with me if I was your first choice. You wouldn’t keep me in the literal dark. You wouldn’t sneak away with me. You wouldn’t keep this a secret.”

“Hold on. I thought you liked that stuff.” He stood up in order to tower over you again.

“It was fun but so was dating someone in public… like normal. Not having to feel like I’m doing something wrong anytime I look at you or think about you.” You said, stepping away when he tried to pull you into his arms.

“You make it sound like I was the one doing something wrong?” He started to sound angry.

“That’s not what I’m saying. We both were. I knew it was wrong too and that guilt was just too much.”

“So… what now?” he asked

“We’re done.”

#jungwoo angst #jungwoo scenarios #jungwoo imagines #jungwoo scenario #jungwoo imagine #nct angst #nct scenarios #nct scenario #nct imagines #nct imagine #collab

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1kook · 5 years

Text

late fee

jeon jeongguk x (f) reader

summary: “Captain Underpants isn’t glorified by all the tryhards, so when I pick those books, you’re unknowingly more interested in me.” tags: f2l, flirty kook, jk’s obsession w/captain underpants, he’s a fuckboy but he’s a soft fuckboy dont get it twisted, campus boy crush jk(yes again), jk abuses the FuCK out of pet names, miss koo1aid actually writes some PLOT warnings: much flirting, nsfw bc of a lot of heavy petting, pussy eatin’, a lil dirty talk, very s l i g h t coochie sniffing, BUT!!! protected sex :) wc: 10.3k

i wrote another fic (applause) and the entire thing is based off my belief that jungkook 10000% would enjoy captain underpants books. not proofread bc i am a hermit and speak to exactly 0 ppl on here, que dios los bendiga

“Helloooo, sexy librarian,” Jeongguk says the moment he steps through the door, lopsided grin adorning his features as he swaggers over to obnoxiously lean against your desk. You can’t even pretend you didn’t see him, his presence so blaringly consuming, and evident in the way some dorky high schoolers glance over to gawk at him.

“What book are you checking out today, Jeon?” You muse instead, leaving your desk chair to head over to the stack of new books that needed to be stamped. As you turn, Jeongguk whistles at the sight, and you don’t even have it in you anymore to retort back the same way you would when he first started bugging you. “Also, are you aware that your copy of Captain Underpants and the Perilous Plot of Professor Poopypants is due tomorrow? It’s a dollar for every day it’s late—”

“You needn’t worry longer, baby,” Jeongguk interrupts, and the loud smack of a hardcover against the desk catches your attention. There lies Jeongguk’s Captain Underpants book, alongside the paperback copy of Beloved that has definitely seen better days.

You furrow your brows. “When did you check out this one?” You question, checking the spine to make sure the book belongs to your library. Much to your surprise, there’s no barcode on the side, and no stamp on the inside.

Your question goes unanswered as Jeongguk jumps into a full-length novella recapture of the hot frat party he’d been to last weekend, and how the Zeta Theta Psi guys knew how to party. That Jimin fellow that Jeongguk frequently mentions had apparently snorted a line of coke off their friend Seokjin’s broad shoulders just to prove his friend had godly proportions. It’s weird, but Jeongguk says it’s because you have to ride for your bros. You try to act uninterested, but Jeongguk’s a funny guy, really, and you can only hide so many chuckles with the sound of a stamp.

He’s in the middle of trying to cover up of one of his frequent trysts after accidentally exposing himself—”Don’t get it twisted, baby, I just took her upstairs to call her friend.”—when Namjoon comes out of the back room looking for you. He barely glances at your guest, before handing you a list of overdue books.

“Would you mind calling these people?” He asks, voice soft, just as everything else was about Namjoon. “They’re all a week past.”

“Yikes,” you say, eyes scanning over the list. Surprisingly, Jeongguk is still there, hovering over you as if waiting for you to dismiss him. “Do you mind, Jeon?” You say, channeling your best customer service voice. As much as Namjoon was wary of him, he still considered Jeongguk a patron in your establishment and hated to see him treated poorly, no matter how many library rules Jeongguk broke.

“Of course,” he sighs, and you miss the hostile glare he throws Namjoon when you whirl around for a highlighter. “I’ll see you later, sweetheart,” he says when you turn back around, stretching ana rm in your direction.

Half of you knows exactly what he’ll do, but the other half of you, the one trying desperately to act like his advances have no effect on you, have you placing your palm in his. You’re not super surprised when he tugs your hand upward, pecking your knuckles with a flirty wink. “Adios, Juliet,” he smirks.

“Wrong language,” you inform him, rolling your eyes nonchalantly even though your heart is beating one hundred miles per second. Jeongguk cackles, loud as all hell in the silent library, before making his exit.

It’s silent for all of twenty seconds before Namjoon jumps right into it. “So are you seeing him, or…” he interrogates, trying to act like he’s hardly interested, but you’ve known and worked alongside Namjoon long enough to know he’s secretly the community gossip.

You ignore him, choosing to jam the buttons on the phone instead.

The weird thing about Jeongguk, was that, although he was notoriously known amongst the undergraduates (and even some graduates, because he just had it like that, you suppose) as one of the biggest fuckboys, he was different. Not to sound like every teen romcom you’d ever scanned, but he genuinely was. For starters, he’d fuck your brains out and then make you his best friend the morning after. He definitely had a very peculiar, and backwards, way of doing the whole one night stand thing.

All this you’ve gathered from your friends, who, at one point have had some sort of encounter with Jeongguk. Dahyun’s was last spring at a club event, when he’d oh so smoothly flirted with her for a solid hour before realizing she didn’t swing that way. Which is how they become close friends, which is how, by association, Jeongguk set his sights on you.

Your introduction to Jeongguk wasn’t anything out of the ordinary; he’d been tagging along behind Dahyun like a lost puppy, begging her for some class notes, and had subsequently followed her all the way to your favorite meeting place. From then, he’d dropped his petulant, childish act and put on his macho face, chest puffed and eyes hooded as he devoured your very presence.

The next time you see him, it’s at a frat party where some guy had been harping on you go upstairs with him. Another weird thing about Jeongguk, he hated when other fuckboys didn’t utilize their brains. You assume it’s because it gives the fuckboy community a bad rep as a whole, but Jeongguk hated when guys were overbearing. So he’d taken the initiative to snatch you away from that fellow, guiding you all the way back to Dahyun and friends just to make sure you were alright. Somewhere along the way, you’d informed him you worked at the local library—”The one that does bingo on Tuesdays?” “That’s for senior citizens only, why do you know that?”—and he’d never left you alone again.

This time, he spots you in the dining hall.

“You come here often, dollface?” He says the moment he slides up beside you, instantly zeroing in on the burrito wrap on your plate. Like the little immature baby he is, his hand immediately snakes out to touch the precariously wrapped white tortilla holding the deliciousness inside, and you have to physically slap the offender away. He jumps, bumping into a girl standing in line behind him, not that particularly cares. “So, it’s fuck Jeongguk hours, huh?” He huffs, adorning his face with that uppity glare he mastered from watching Mean Girls on repeat a few months ago.

“Your plate is stacked, but you wanna grab the one thing on mine,” you point out, and his lips curl into a smile at your response. “By the way, your book is past due.”

At this he gasps, all real, no Regina George effects added. “You’re lying,” he chokes, switching his plate to his other hand, and you nearly jump when the muffin balancing dangerously on top shifts. He tugs his phone out of the pocket of his sweats, scanning through his remind app until he sees that his book is overdue by three days. He groans, staring at the ceiling in shame.

You nod, breezing over his inner meltdown. “Was wondering when we were gonna get the wedgie winner, or whatever its called, back.”

He scoffs, giving you an unimpressed glare. “Wrath of the Wicked Wedgie Woman,” he corrects, looking so disappointed that you don’t have these bizarre titles memorized. “For such a pretty librarian, you sure are ignorant to these literary masterpieces.”

This makes you cackle, and your cheeks flush when at least three people turn to stare at your outburst. “You aren’t seriously calling these Captain Underpants books masterpieces,” you snort. Jeongguk shrugs, and you begin to wonder if he really is as airheaded as the characters he admires. “Jeon,” you try to reason, giving him a pleading look, because arguing the credibility of kids novels in line for lunch simply does not seem real. You must have been warped into another dimension where all pretty boys are as dumb as the movies make them out to seem.

“Listen,” he says, smiling when you grow desperate for him to prove you wrong. “I’ve read a lot of good books, but nothing tops a hypnotized superhero principal fighting crime in his underwear.”

You sigh, paying for your meal, and then, surprisingly, waiting for him to pay for his. You tell yourself it’s because you want to finish this conversation, but part of you just genuinely enjoys being in Jeongguk’s presence. Gag.

“I saw you with Beloved last week,” you carry on the second he’s done giving flirty eyes to the middle-aged cashier. “Now that’s a masterpiece.”

He nods in agreement. “But, baby,” he purrs, and the sudden switch from weird, 12 year-old literary enthusiast to grown as hell, suave bastard has you jolting a step that you try to play off by pretending to look at something on the ground. “How else will you remember my face?”

You blank. “What the hell are you talking about.”

Jeongguk gives you a pointed look. “Sweetheart, you wouldn’t remember a damn thing about me if I did what every other stuck-up bastard did trying to pick up chicks at the library.” You tilt your head in confusion. Jeongguk sighs. “If I went in every rainy Friday and checked out a Tale of Two Cities, or Oliver Twist, or some other Charles Dickens shit, you wouldn’t glance my way.”

“Do people still read Dickens?” You say instead, glossing over the fact that apparently Jeongguk’s visits were apparently blatant attempts to flirt with girls. Finally, you find a suitable spot at a long, dinner table so you don’t have to sit completely alone with Jeongguk.

“You know damn well better than I do that that those wannabe sophisticated books have waitlists.” He shoves half a pizza slice into his mouth, and you hate how your eyes immediately laser in on the strong movements of his jaw. “My point is,” he says through a greasy mouthful. “Captain Underpants isn’t glorified by all the tryhards, so when I pick those books, you’re unknowingly more interested in me.”

You cradle your burrito in your palms, rolling his words around your head for a bit. Jeongguk doesn’t particularly seem like he’s awaiting an answer, munching through the mountain of food on his plate as you revel in your thoughts.

It’s right when you go to take your first bite that you finally come to a conclusion. “But have you ever considered I’m interested in you because I think you’re funny?”

Silence. Jeongguk stares at you through his fringe, pizza slice slowly going limp in his hold as he absorbs your words. Before you know it, his ears flush red. He splutters. “I-You think I’m funny?” He asks, cheeks slowly growing rosy as well, and his lips quirk in a cute way to the side, as if he’s trying desperately to hide his excitement.

You nod, because it’s true, why would you lie? “Duh. You come in every week and just talk about your day, Jeongguk,” you say, as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “I think you’re very interesting and entertaining without trying.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, and for the first time, you’re thrown off by how adorable this man looks, lips pressed tight to contain a smile from your compliments.

Realization hits you all at once, but you’ve long since trained in the fluid art of avoiding your emotions.

“There’s a party tonight,” Dahyun announces from her desk, not even bothering to glance at you when you return from the showers. You hum, not really that interested in whatever is going on this fine Thursday evening. You plop down at your own desk, starting your skincare routine.

Dahyun lets you relax in the soothing motions of self care for all of three seconds before she adds, “Jeongguk wanted to know if you’re coming.”

You press down too hard on the pump of your moisturizer, sending a large glomp onto the tips of your fingers. “That’s nice,” you say, trying to play it off, but you doubt Dahyun hadn’t heard the little spaz you had, or that she couldn’t sense the way your body immediately lit aflame at the mention of him and you in the same sentence.

She turns in her seat, and you catch sight of her in your mirror. You avert your eyes right away, because Dahyun had many talents, and her best one was reading your mind with a single gaze. You maintain an aura of unbothered and uninterested, finishing with the rest of your skincare.

Just when you think you’re safe, Dahyun pounces.

“Y’know,” she says, and you can hear the grin in her voice. “He hasn’t slept with anyone in almost a month. In fuckboy time, that’s the equivalent of two years.”

You roll your eyes, putting away your products before trying to busy yourself with anything else. “He probably has, but with people who know how to keep their mouths shut.”

Faintly, you hear Dahyun’s chair scrape against the carpet, and then suddenly she has you in a headlock. “Admit you like Jeongguk or I will throw your toothbrush into the toilet on the third floor.”

You choke, grappling her arms in an attempt to pry her off. “No,” you huff, switching tactics to tangle a hand in her silver locks. “Why would I confess to something that isn’t true?”

She shrieks when you give a sharp tug, sending her careening sideways against the foot of your bed, but not without taking you with her. “You are lying to yourself and to the entire librarian community, you sick fuck.”

You snort. “The fuck does Namjoon have to do with this?”

“He told me Jeongguk’s been bringing you Starbucks.”

Her reveal has you halting in your tracks, cheeks flushing at being exposed. “That gossiping fuck,” you seethe, finally loosening your grip on your friend. Somehow, you’ve ended up sprawled on the floor of her side of the room, nestled into the stupidly fluffy carpet she thrifted. She rolls onto her belly, propping herself up on her elbows to narrow her eyes at you.

“So it’s true,” she sighs. You shrug. “Well,” she claps her hands together. “Shimmy into that sexy dress from Windsor, we’re going out.”

You groan, rolling over in metaphorical agony. “Dude, I just washed my face. No way in hell, I’m putting on makeup now.” She considers your point for negative three seconds.

“The Glow Kit is in my bottom left drawer,” she announces right as she exits the room with her towel and shower essentials in hand.

The Glow Kit is in fact in Dahyun’s drawer, which is a little suspicious considering it’s the same one you thought you lost three months ago. Nonetheless, it never lets you down, and by the time you’re done with your makeup, you’re looking like a shimmering, little succubus in the hot dress from Windsor.

Normally, you and your self-esteem were rivals; never on the same page, always bickering, sworn enemies from birth. But right now, as you admire yourself in the closet mirror, you can’t help but marvel at how good you look in the slightly loose dress.

“Damn,” Dahyun says as soon as she returns, all fluffy in her towel. “You will fuck tonight, or else.”

“Hey, baby,” Jeongguk smiles at you the moment you walk in, hooded eyes raking over your body in an agonizingly slow manner. Dahyun chooses then to do her party trick—disappearing without a word.

“Hi…” you respond, voice meek in this party setting. There’s more people than you anticipated, which is weird because it’s a Thursday and surely some of these people have morning classes. You can’t comment, though, because you’re here knowing damn well you have an eight am tomorrow.

The music is blasting, so loud you can feel the bass shaking the floor, sending jolts up from your toes to your head with every beat. There’s people in every crevice of this household, some even taking refuge on the staircase leading up to the bedrooms. Someone brushes by you, and you instinctively step closer to the wall to avoid being in the way. You should have known Jeongguk would follow.

He ducks down to shout into your ear. “Wasn’t sure if you were coming tonight,” he tells you, right as one of his friends rushes by, thrusting a cup into his hand that Jeongguk doesn’t even stop to question. He takes a sip, then offers you some.

“Dahyun didn’t wanna come alone,” you lie, tentatively sipping from his cup only to realize it’s worse than any alcohol here: it’s Sprite. Jeongguk seems amused by your subtle disgust, immediately taking the cup back. You send out a light prayer for his stomach and his skin. “Aren’t you supposed to be out pulling hoes or something?” You say, trying to go for teasing and playful but missing by a mile.

Jeongguk grins. “Why would I do that when the only girl I want is right here,” he motions, and then does that cliche move where he places a hand by the wall behind you. The worst thing is, even though Jeongguk seems intent on pulling every cheesy act known to mankind, your heart actually races.

“Shut up,” you laugh, “you just like that I don’t charge you the late fees on your books.”

At this, Jeongguk genuinely smiles, nose scrunching up as he gazes at you. “False,” he argues, and then leans forward, same stupid dopey smile on his face. “I love a woman who snorts milk out of her nose.”

“Jeon!” You shriek, smacking his arm as embarrassment washes over you. “You said you would forget about that!”

Jeongguk cackles, all boyish and rough like he does when he’s around Hoseok for too long. Somehow, knowing you’re the cause of that charming laughter has your annoyance fading away, a soft smile crawling onto your features.

“I hate you,” you say instead, looking up and meeting his gaze dead on for the first time that night.

Jeongguk smirks. “Do you now?” He throws back, then takes a step forward. Your shoulder touches the wall when you take a tentative step back. You give a half-assed shrug, entranced by the playfulness that lurks behind his eyes. He gives you an exaggerated pout. “That sucks, because I,” he steps closer again, and this time he’s looking down at you over the bridge of his nose, “really like you.”

“I…” you trail off, too hypnotized by the pink tongue that swipes across his lips as he gazes at you. There is no hesitation on his face.

When you don’t say anything for another moment, Jeongguk ducks down. His nose bumps against yours, his breath warm as it fans across your face. “Y’know, I’d treat you so right,” he suddenly says, and your panties immediately turn into Niagara Falls at the newfound deepness of his voice. You feel lightheaded from his close proximity and promising words. “Could make you feel so good, baby, if you just let me.”

You shiver, nearly jumping out of your skin when a hand snakes its way around your waist, tugging you forward gently. Not overbearingly, because you know the last thing Jeongguk would ever do was want to make you uncomfortable. He pulls you close enough that it ends up being you who steps completely into his embrace. Your trembling hands find their place on his shoulders, and Jeongguk has never looked more content.

“You... only want sex,” you softly accuse, and the only reason your quiet voice doesn’t get lost in the noise is because of how close the two of you are.

Jeongguk bites his lip at your words, and you wonder if part of him is surprised that you’d so openly say such a thing. “Not with you,” he says eventually. “Wanna hold you like this forever, ___. And if that leads to you cumming on my tongue every now and then, well,” he smiles, “all fine by me.”

“Jeon,” you scold, scared that someone might have heard him.

“What?” He grins, pressing impossibly closer. His lip gives the slightest pucker, and you find yourself unconsciously leaning closer, the hand around your waist tightening. “I want you, baby.”

You can’t hide the lovestruck expression on your face as you look between his mouth and his eyes, and you wonder if he’s being honest.

Right as you’re about to throw all your doubts out the window and kiss him, you’re bombarded with the sound of obnoxious air horns from a DJ who obviously knows shit about, well, DJ-ing.

You jump at the sudden sound, bumping your head against the wall behind you. Jeongguk’s eyes widen. “Oh shit, are you okay?” He fusses, all traces of that suave, heartthrob replaced with a fretful Jeon.

“I’m fine,” you say, though you’re not because you’re absolutely dying right now. From the fact you almost gave into Jeongguk but also the embarrassment of hitting your head. “I-I need to find Dahyun,” you announce, and give Jeongguk no time to process that before you’re bolting into the crowded house like you just broke something.

jeon tell me you got home safe jeon please

You pause in the middle of removing your makeup, one eyelash on to symbolize the mess you are right now. Dahyun is humming some tune as she does the same, the both of you clad in your pajamas and fuzzy socks. Carefully, you pick up your phone.

you im home! me and the girls ubered home lol you sorry i didnt get to say goodbye :(

jeon dont worry abt it babe jeon just happy to know ur ok

“You better be texting Jeongguk, since you failed to complete the one job you had tonight,” Dahyun calls and you curse. You whirl around to face her, and she snorts at your one eyelash.

“Be honest,” you say. “If you were the campus crush who could get coochie every time he breathed, would you leave all that for me?”

Dahyun freezes. “Well, not when you’re only wearing one eyelash.” You groan, flopping into your seat uncomfortably. “Babe,” Dahyun sighs, as if sensing the gravity of your dilemma. “You’re hot! Everyone knows this except you.”

“But am I?” You whine. “Am I attractive or do you just feel obligated to say that because you’re my friend, be honest.”

“Oh my god,” she huffs, climbing into her bed, phone in hand. She doesn’t even bother looking your way when she’s all settled in. “You have this weird idea that Jeongguk is some intangible idol, as if you haven’t seen the dude deepthroat an entire bratwurst at the diversity fair. If anything, you’re the dream girl on campus, you stupid bitch.”

“The only true thing I heard is me being a stupid bitch,” you mope, and Dahyun throws a pillow at your face. You take this attack as initiative to finally take off your other lash, finishing your cleansing and moisturizing (for the second time) routine.

“Listen,” she says, setting her phone down to stare you dead in the eye. Her voice is devoid of any emotion. “If it makes you feel better, he wrote JK + __ on our group handout last week.”

You don’t sleep that night.

The last person you’re expecting to see at this secluded cafe on a Saturday morning was Jeon Jeongguk, yet here he was in all his delicious morning glory. By morning glory, you mean the soft, sleepy eyes that stare at you from across the table, voice so deep and husky.

“Why are you here if you just woke up?” You interrogate, settling into the empty seat in front of him. Carefully, you begin pulling things out of your bag, trying your best to not look away too long. This sight was rare, Jeongguk usually being at an energy level of about eighty seven at all times. To see him so tired and sluggish was unheard of.

He gestures over to where Taehyung is in the middle of what looks like a job interview. “Moral support,” Jeongguk informs you. You nod in understanding, before returning your gaze to the sleepy angel in front of you.

He’s ridiculously tired, eyes dropping shut every time you so much as pause for a second. He seems apologetic too, murmuring I’m sorry I’m sorry whenever his eyes flutter shut. Your heart was going haywire at the sight. “Jeon,” you say softly, and get one, soft hum in response. “I think you should go home, Taehyung seems fine.”

He shakes his head. “Needs me,” he murmurs, trying desperately to snap his eyes back open to no avail. Eventually, you make the call, packing your things up way earlier than usual. You haul Jeongguk out of his seat, him sleepily trailing after you as you drag him out of the shop. He sleeps on the short bus ride back to campus, and even almost sleeps on the elevator up to his dorm.

“In we go,” you announce, unlocking his door before nudging him inside. His roommate is nowhere to be found, oddly enough given the early hour. Jeongguk stumbles inside, plopping down on his bed right away. “Sleep.”

He lets out a high pitched whine the moment you turn to leave. “Come cuddle,” he huffs, face pressed against his pillow. His hair’s haloed around him, pout smushed against the cushion as he stares at you.

“You need to sleep,” you point out.

He rolls onto his back, patting the mattress beside him. “Wanna feel you,” he says. Your cheeks flush red. As if realizing the meaning behind his words, sleepy little Jeongguk takes the initiative to push you further. “Pressed against my body,” he drawls, his deep chuckle resonating throughout your body. “C’mon, baby, too scared to be in bed with me?”

You scoff, though your cheeks are warm. “You wouldn’t do anything anyway, you’re half asleep.”

Jeongguk shrugs, lips quirking to the side as he motions to his side again. “So? Can tell you like it slow anyway,” he grunts, before sitting up and shuffling to the edge of the bed and assuming a sitting position. Without warning, he catches your wrist in his hand and tugs you between his spread thighs.

He’s more awake than he’s been all morning, and part of you is happy but the other is anxious. God, was this boy dangerous.

“You’re half asleep, Jeon,” you say, trying to diffuse the sudden sexual tension. Jeongguk smiles up at you.

“Cmon, baby,” he exhales, and one fluid tug has you plopping onto his thigh. You startle at the sudden change, grabbing onto his shoulders for support. All he does is laugh some more, nuzzling his face against your neck as your heart goes into panic mode. “Bet I could get in so deep,” he murmurs, breath tickling your neck and you feel your legs turn to jelly.

“G-Gguk,” you try to warn, but it ends up sounding more like a plea. For what, you’re not entirely sure.

A sudden kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulder has your spirit ascending into another plane. Jeongguk smiles at your pliant body. “Look at you,” he continues, kissing down your neck until your body is physically quivering. “So sensitive. No one ever touched you like this before, doll?”

You shake your head no, and nearly jump out of your own skin when a hand clasps onto the inside of your thigh. “Jeon, we shouldn’t…” you choke out, even though your traitorous hand clamps down on his and pushes it closer to where you need him most.

“We shouldn’t?” He teases, and then cups your sex.

You transcend.

Jeongguk laughs, airy chuckles fanning across your jaw. “Then stop,” he tells you, the both of you watching as your hips unconsciously grind into his palm. Even when you tell yourself you need to stop, your body feels heavenly being touched by him, so you physically can’t.

“I can’t,” you reiterate, and muffle a moan against the side of his face when he presses a finger down on where he knows your clit is hiding. The thin leggings you’d worn did nothing to spare you.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy,” he sighs, watching you work yourself on his hand. He traces his index finger over the seam of your leggings, where your folds meet and you moan again. “You gonna let me finish you off, princess? Gonna let me finger your tight little pussy until you cry? But I bet you’d make the prettiest noises if I licked you down there. Or are you gonna cum in your panties like this?”

All the different ideas he stuffs into your brain are overwhelming, especially when the only thing you really want is to be stuffed with his fingers and cock. “J-Just do it,” you beg.

“Do what?” He plays, watching the way your face contorted with every brush against your mound.

“Whatever you want,” you cry, biting down on your fist to stop any more noises from spilling out.

Jeongguk smiles, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Such a simple gesture, but it has your stomach somersaulting. God, you needed this. You were practically sobbing for his dick, which was embarrassing in itself, but actually getting dicked down sort of cancelled it out. PEMDAS or whatever.

Just as his hand creeps to the hem of your leggings, there’s a rattle of the doorknob, and you jump. The cloud of lust that had engulfed you two fades away and you’re suddenly aware of the jingling of a key outside.

“What the fuck,” Jeongguk whisper-shouts, looking absolutely scandalized that his roommate is coming home at this moment of all moments.

“Should I hide?” You whisper back, never having been in such a situation before. Jeongguk looks at you like you’re stupid.

“Just,” he sighs, standing up. He ruffles his hair anxiously. “Just… act natural.”

You sit perfectly still. “Not like a Sim!!”

“Captain Underpants and the Invasion of the Incredibly Naughty Cafeteria Ladies from Outer Space (and the Subsequent Assault of the Equally Evil Lunchroom Zombie Nerds),” you read, gasping for breath by the end of it. Jeongguk beams at you. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Nope,” Jeongguk says, leaning over the counter and watching as you scan his book under his name. “I’ll let you know how it is.”

You roll your eyes, writing down the return date on a piece of paper you stuff inside. “Please do, I’m absolutely dying to read this book.”

You hand the book over to Jeongguk, and try to ignore the way he stares at you for a second too long. Namjoon chooses this exact moment to take his lunch break, sauntering off whistling the the Angry Birds tune.

Right before Jeongguk can jump into an interrogation, the door swings open and Jisoo from your sociology elective saunters in, carrying the same mountain of books you had checked out for her two weeks ago.

“___, hi!” She exclaims right away. She, too, was infected with the same bimbo disease as Jeongguk, the one where they both had no concept of being quiet in a library.

“Hi,” you greet back, immediately standing to take the books from her. “Did you actually read through all of these?” You ask, trying to make polite small talk. You’re not particularly close to her, but it’d be rude to act like you didn’t know her.

She laughs at your comment. “Oh god, no. I just open random pages and reference them for essays,” she admits.

You try to make more small talk with her as you scan through her books, but the girl literally almost hit the material limit, which is fifty books, so you soon become consumed in scanning the barcode, briefly flipping through the book for any damage, and then repeating it all over. You’re not surprised when she drifts away, and you’re mentally cursing Namjoon for going on break now of all times.

It’s about ten minutes later when you’re all done, the computer’s library system going haywire on you, the same way it had when she first checked out all these books. You look away from the screen, standing to face Jisoo, only to find she’s drifted to the other end of the welcome desk, where a certain someone had gone to while you served her.

Oh.

You’re not anticipating the wave of jealousy that hits you watching gorgeous, smart Jisoo talk to Jeongguk. She matches him perfectly, both so beautiful it hurts. It’s when she says something to him that you snap out of it. “When can I come over again?” Soft enough that you wouldn’t have heard if you hadn’t been paying attention.

Jeongguk’s toying with a bookmark stand, but you still see the quirk of his lips on his face when she says that.

All you can do is watch from the sidelines, so close yet somehow miles away as he says something back to her that gets drowned out by the thundering of your heart. You suppose it’s only natural for a guy like Jeongguk to flirt with girls, and he’d never said he only, exclusively wanted you. Really, you shouldn’t be as surprised.

But you are.

You’re surprised and, dare you say it, discouraged by the scene. He’d been so eager to finally win you over the other night, so much so that he made you feel special with every word he uttered and every look he gave you. You’d almost believed in his sincerity, but seeing him so easily converse with Jisoo about whatever past they have, served as a cold reminder that you and Jeongguk believe in two completely different relationship styles.

So you sit back down, gnawing on your lip as you try to do other duties, clicking around uselessly on your computer until eventually, Jisoo wanders back.

“Am I all set?” She smiles, and you can’t even find it in you to dislike her. You plaster on your best customer service smile, nodding and handing her back her library card. She thanks you three times over for the hassle, before waving goodbye to you and Jeongguk.

When the door falls shut behind her, you immediately drop the facade, though Jeongguk doesn’t seem to notice. “Whew. She left a lot of work for you,” he laughs, eyeing the big stack beside you. You don’t even bother responding, as, at that moment, Namjoon returns from his lunch break.

(How convenient! You swear this fucker had a sixth sense for knowing when work was about to become hard.)

“Joon, I’m taking my break now,” you announce, and Namjoon stares at you like a deer in headlights, the last bite of a sandwich raised to his mouth.

“Uh,” he says, 140 IQ and all. He glances behind you at Jeongguk, who also is confused as all hell. “Okay, then.”

“___?” Jeongguk questions. You stalk off, pushing the gate away from the desk before bursting into the employee break room right across from it.

You cry the moment you get home, and Dahyun jumps ten feet out of her bed in shock. Her girlfriend, Momo, is sitting on the floor painting her toes. “Oh no,” she cries, sweet and understanding in all the ways Dahyun wasn’t. “My poor baby, what’s wrong?” She asks, waddling over in the my-nail-polish-hasn’t-dried-yet way to hug you.

“He was flirting with another girl,” you sob, dropping your bag by the door as Momo continues fawning over you, wiping your face with tissues. Dahyun gets out of bed, cracks her fingers, and promptly announces:

“I’m gonna kill him.”

Initially, you would have let her. But after a while you manage to calm down, loud Kim Kardashian sobs fading into tiny hiccups as the two of them coddle you. You tell them all about what terrible, good for nothing Jeongguk did, and in true female solidarity, they vow to kick his ass for you. Eventually, you settle on not whooping his ass, just cutting any romantic notions with him off to avoid further heartbreak. After all, you were kinda friends before you had your little crush revelation.

It’s later in the night when you announce you maybe got 2% over him, which the girls count as an absolute win, but then Jeongguk texts you and they groan at the way you jump for your phone.

jeon hey can we talk ? jeon did I do something wrong today? jeon felt like u were mad at me lol, and then u took a really long break and I had to leave for class so I didn’t even get to see u again jeon just wanna know if everything is ok

You read through the messages a couple times, and wonder if he’s being serious and didn’t see anything sus with his actions, or if he’s just toying with your emotions. Momo tugs Dahyun away to give you some sort of privacy, and then you’re left alone in your thoughts.

you everything’s fine ! you I just wasn’t feeling well lol

He responds right away.

jeon please don’t lie to me ___ jeon I know what you’re probably thinking and I just want to say it’s not like that

For some reason, him saying he knows you enough to know your thoughts irritates you. He obviously didn’t know shit about you if he was out here making you look like a clown. Your fingers type before you can even think.

you lmao you thats funny

jeon ?

you you most def do not know what I’m thinking so please just take my word when I say I felt sick

jeon lmao. what do you mean...

you you barely know ME besides the fact I work @ the library and dorm w Dahyun. don't say u know what I’m thinking, bc that would imply you know me on a closer level which you don’t

jeon ok seriously what's up with you? jeon im trying to make sure ur okay but ur just being difficult as fuck

you I’m not being difficult I’m just being real

jeon ur not tho, ur being defensive for no reason at all

you so? we’re barely friends and we barely know each other, how I feel is none of ur business

jeon lmfaoooo, so now we’re barely friends?

you thats what I said didnt I

You set your phone aside when you don’t immediately see the texting dots appear, assuming your dry response is probably enough to ward Jeongguk off. Your face feels warm, and you’re not sure if it’s from frustration or anger, but you guess it’s both. You’re not sure what set you off, the fact Jeongguk wants to act like he knows you, as if he wasn’t just chasing after you for some pussy, or the fact he wanted to act like some all-knowing being when it came to your feelings.

Eitherway, you’re extremely heated, grinding your teeth together when five minutes pass and he hasn’t texted you back. As if sensing the tension, Momo and Dahyun abruptly announce that they’re going to the ice cream place down the street, offering to bring something back to which you decline.

They leave, the heavy door slamming shut behind them. You get exactly two seconds of peace and quiet before your phone starts going off like crazy, all from Jeongguk.

jeon you’re starting to piss me off jeon drop the attitude baby. jeon bc I can be just as mean as u jeon and I won’t hesitate to make you cry

You blink. Every ounce of your body that had been consumed with an unknown anger slowly fades away as you stare wide eyed at Jeongguk’s messages. This was nothing like the Jeongguk you knew; he was soft and playful. He never raised his voice at you, and he’d never been anything less than a sweetheart.

you I don’t have an attitude

Is your feeble reply, too scared to reply to any other part of his message because you truly had no experience with this Jeongguk.

jeon so then put your big girl pants on and tell me what’s wrong jeon enough w this other shit

You sigh, snuggling into your covers as you absentmindedly tap the back of your phone.

you nothing is wrong

He doesn’t reply for a couple minutes again, but Dahyun sends you a text letting you know her and Momo decided to go to an event on the other side of campus, and telling you not to wait up. You reply back a simple ok right as Jeongguk responds.

jeon ok. so let me tell you what’s wrong then jeon you’re mad bc I was speaking to Jisoo today and she asked abt coming over jeon she comes over all the time jeon bc she is my roommates girlfriend

Your mind goes blank.

How embarrassing to have your mind read word for word, even more so when apparently, your worries weren’t even plausible. God. Instantly you feel stupid, replaying today’s entire scene and trying desperately to find something to catch Jeongguk in a lie. But other than asking that one question, there had been no other interesting talk between the two.

Your phone pings again, and you scramble to type a response, only to freeze at the words on the screen

jeon what blows me is that i don’t even owe u shit especially not an explanation jeon u don’t give 2 flying fucks about me. U just like the attention I give u and watching me make a fool of myself for u jeon I bend over backwards chasing after you, trying to get you to notice me, but you’ve done nothing to show me u feel the same jeon but you’re the one allowed to get mad when I speak to other girls? like u said “ that’s funny ”

Oh, no. Immediately your heart comes crashing down, and your fingers tremble as you watch Jeongguk slip away right before your eyes.

you Jeongguk you it’s not like that please you I like you so much, it’s just hard for me to

jeon to what? Get over your stupid stereotype of me?? jeon lmfao. Yeah that must be sooo hard jeon it’s whatever tho bc I had one of u too jeon my dream girl

This is not what you expected when he said he’d make you cry.

“Honey, you just have to talk to him,” Momo says the next morning, pressing a cucumber slice onto your eyes. You flinch at the initial iciness, but then relax when she brushes your hair out of your face. You’d gone to sleep a wreck, crying and sobbing as you thought desperately on how to win Jeongguk back, but everything he had said was true.

You’d done nothing but reject him since the beginning, had only just begun treating him as a friend, yet you instantly placed the blame on him at the first signs of trouble. God, he was right. You’d been selfish this entire time, and now he wasn’t responding to your messages anymore.

Dahyun nods from her cocoon at the foot of your bed. “I’m sure it’ll be easier in person, text convos are always weird,” she tries to comfort you. “But keep those slices on, those bags under your eyes are no joke.”

Momo smacks her calf. “Be nice! She’s going through a crisis.”

Right as you’re about to pay for your meal and sprint back to hide in your dorm, you spot a coconut head of hair facing the windows in the far corner of the dining hall. Fuck. Faintly, you can hear Dahyun’s voice shouting for you to stop being a pussy and go talk to him. You pause by the exit, one leg in one leg out, before saying fuck it. If worse comes to worse, you transfer schools and live with heartbreak and three cats for the rest of your life.

“I-Is someone sitting here?” You say before you can chicken out, and mentally curse yourself for stuttering. Oh, the social horror.

Jeongguk visibly jumps at your voice, wide doe eyes staring at you as if he expected to never see you again. After all, it’s been a week since your little fight, three days since you last tried texting him. He shakes his head, turning his attention back to his plate, but not before tugging the hoodie of his sweater over his head in a classic self defensive tactic.

You slide into the seat, staring at the plate of food like you’ve never seen it in your life, never mind the fact you picked it out less than fifteen minutes ago. You accidentally scrape your fork against the bottom, and the both of you cringe.

Jeongguk clears his throat, hands clasped together between his thighs as he stares out the window. “Don’t you have work?” He asks, voice raspy.

You shake your head. “I took the week off,” you confess, hoping he doesn’t press for more, because then you’d have to tell him your reasoning was due to heartache.

“Oh. That’s nice,” he says, and then you fall into a pit of awkward silence.

You push the food around on your plate, hoping he’ll say something, anything to save the two of you. In the end, he stays silent, sleepily glancing out the windows.

When you look closer, though, Jeongguk doesn’t look much hot than you. He’s got the same bags as you under his eyes, and his hair looks messier than his usual messy style. The fact he’s wearing his blue crocs out in public only confirms your theory.

After a solid five minutes of silence, even your hungry stomach managing to stay quiet, you decide enough is enough.

You shift ever so slightly, until you’re somewhat facing him and clear your throat; Jeongguk barely spares you a glance. “The Preposterous Plight of the Purple Potty People,” you blurt. Jeongguk blinks, face slowly morphing into one of confusion. Your cheeks feel hot under his gaze, having missed his brown eyes in the past week. “It’s your favorite one,” you announce. “Of the Captain Underpants books.”

After a moment, Jeongguk snorts, turning his attention away from you. “You’re not gonna win me over with that,” he says curtly, and your heart tightens at his emotionless tone of voice.

But you’ve done your research, and you’re not letting it go to waste. “You like George more than Harold because you think he contributes more. You love the characterization of Mr. Krupp the most, but you hate his theme song. You think the cover art could use some work, but you enjoy the overall art style. You hated the movie adaptation because Kevin Hart was in it,” you list, recalling every bit of information you’ve ever heard Jeongguk share about the stupid novels.

There’s a small quirk in the corner of Jeongguk’s lips, but it’s not the one you’re aiming for, so you switch tactics. “You hate the smell of bananas because you don’t think it should have a smell. You can’t put your left sock on first, because it’s bad luck to you. Your mom still washes your sheets for you. You know the lyrics to the original Dragon Ball series in three languages. You like wearing rings because it makes you feel like a pimp. You hate when Hoseok calls you the baby, because, according to you, you bench press his weight times two.”

“And a half,” he softly corrects, gazing at his hands, cheeks slightly tinged with red. You bite your lip, tentatively reaching a hand out to place on his arm. He looks at you right away, doe eyes so vulnerable and scared, like nothing you’ve ever seen before.

“I said we barely knew each other, but that was a lie,” you chuckle humorlessly, suddenly feeling your eyes tear up just remembering the conversation. “I know so much about you because I love listening to you talk. I love hearing your voice, and watching you wrestle with your friends, and fight with Dahyun. But I never tell you,” you bite your lip, blinking your eyes to backtrack the tears.

“And you’re right, I made you do all the work and I’m sorry, but I’m just so scared, Jeongguk,” you admit, voice cracking on his name. Your press a hand over your mouth, trying to collect yourself. Suddenly, a soft hand gently pats your thigh, and you find yourself reaching down to tangle your fingers together. “You can have anyone, Jeongguk, and you obviously know this,” you sigh. “I’m scared that I won’t be enough for you.”

“Hey, it’s alright,” Jeongguk says, voice soft in the way you’ve missed so much. His hand, shaky and unsure, reaches up to brush a tear from the corner of your eye. “Look at me,” he commands, and you do. “I think we’re both stupid, because I feel like I’ve never been enough for you,” he confesses with a chuckle you try to replicate through sniffles.

Suddenly, he’s close, forehead pressed to yours. “And maybe it’s true,” he says. “You won’t be enough for me, and I’ve never been enough for you.” Your heart aches at his words. “But that’s okay,” he assures, squeezing your thigh between his fingers. “We don't have to be right now, but we can try.”

You nod, clamping down a sob. “God, I hate how optimistic you are,” you laugh, and he smiles, cupping your face in his hands.

“And I hate watching you cry,” he says, fingers wiping your cheeks. Before you can say what you’re thinking, he’s snatching the words right out of you, “yes, I know I said what I said, and I felt like such a dick typing it, I made Jimin flick my forehead right after.”

You giggle, and he beams that dreamy smile at you again. “I’m gonna kiss you now,” he announces, and your heart thunders in your chest faster than the wings of a hummingbird.

And he does.

“I don’t know, I think Kevin Hart sounds great in this,” you mention, and you feel the hard scoff Jeongguk lets out from your position cradled on his chest. “It’s not the worst thing in the world,” you defend.

“You’re sick,” he says, then pauses the Captain Underpants movie to engage in your third debate of the evening. You’re barely fifteen minutes in. “You think that weirdo did George justice? How? In what world?”

“Babe, it’s just a voice actor,” you placate. “No one died because Mr. Hart voiced him.”

Jeongguk splutters. “Mr. Hart—you don’t know this man! And something did die! My hopes for a sequel!”

You shush him, pressing your index finger to his lips. “Enough complaints, Rotten Tomatoes. We won’t even finish at this rate.”

Jeongguk hits play, grumbling under his breath.

Just as you’d predicted, you don’t even make it to the halfway mark before Jeongguk’s got you on your back, plush lips working yours until they’re bruised, tongue halfway down your throat. “The mov—“ you mumble.

“Fuck Mr. Hart,” Jeongguk says, kissing down your jaw like he can’t allow himself to miss a single spot. When he reaches the collar of your shirt, he wastes no time tugging it off of you. You whine, instinctively covering your chest. “Don’t be shy,” he chuckles, “here, look-,” he tugs his sweatshirt over his head, and you’re met with the strong muscles of his abdomen and pecs, “-twins.”

You roll your eyes. “Just kiss me, Mr. Jeon,” you tease, wrapping your hands around him to bring him closer. He chokes, and mumbles something about saving that for another time.

Before you know it, he’s kissing between your thighs, soft lips producing the most erotic sounds with every smooch he gives. “Can I take these off?” he asks, one lone finger creeping beneath the hem of your panties, right where your hip is. You nod, biting your lower lip hard the moment he begins sliding them down. His hands are soft as they glide over your legs, and when he finally tugs them away from your ankles, he wastes no time nudging your legs open for him.

“Don’t just look at it,” you whine, jabbing his ribs with your foot. Jeongguk grins.

“Sorry I stare, you’re just so pretty,” he smiles, and you muffle an annoyed groan into your palms. “Gonna eat you out now,” he announces, finally, and you uncover your face to watch the way he lowers his mouth onto your throbbing pussy, pink tongue coming out to lick at your clit.

The first press of the wet muscle has your toes curling, back arched. You’d been craving this for the longest, and just as you’d expect, it’s better than any fantasy. “Right there,” you moan, reaching down to tangle a hand in Jeongguk’s wavy hair, the other fisting the pillow beneath your head.

Jeongguk absorbs all your tiny reactions, toying with your clit just how you like it. He rolls his tongue around it, making sure every part has been in his mouth at least once. When he suctions his lips around it and moans like this was getting him off, your body melts. “Fuck,” you cry out, your thighs quivering around his head. Part of you wants to slam them shut, hide from his tongue and all its devious ministrations. But the other part has never felt so good in your entire life.

When Jeongguk decides he’s pampered your swollen clit enough, he gives it one final kiss, wet and slippery. “Good?” He smiles up at you, lips slick with your juices. You nod, probably already looking fucked out. He smirks at your response, and your heart backflips in your chest, when he reaches up to knot your fingers together.

He kisses your knuckle and you whine. “How many fingers do you want?” He asks, and you blurt out the first number you can think of.

“Eight,” you choke, and immediately flush in embarrassment afterwards.

Jeongguk laughs, dropping his head to your thigh in a fit of giggles. He looks absolutely ethereal there, soft brown hair sprawled across your skin like an angel. “Smaller numbers, baby, please,” he chuckles. You shrug, so he decides for you. “How about I just use my tongue instead?” You think you might love him.

He settles back down, lips pressing against your mound one final time, before he’s diving in. You mewl right away, body becoming one with the mattress beneath you at the first brush of his tongue.

“Oh, Jeongguk,” you gasp, hands burying themselves in his scalp again. He hums in response, and the sound has every nerve in your body lighting up. His tongue prods against your folds, slowly licking his way deeper and deeper into your cunt.

The worst comes when he sighs against your pussy, literally sighs, like he’s so blessed to be there. “You’re s-so good at this,” you cry out, trembling fingers twisting his hair so tightly that you manage to pull him off just an inch. He pinches your thigh in warning, before stuffing his tongue into you again, absolutely plunging into the depths of your hole.

Just when you think he couldn’t possibly outdo this, he jolts up suddenly, nose brushing against your clit. His eyes go wide for the slightest second, as if he really hadn’t planned that, before flickering at you.

To your utter embarrassment, he takes one long whiff, eyes rolling to the back of his head in pleasure.

He pulls away from your dripping hole. “You smell so fucking good,” he informs you, spreading a fiery blush across your cheeks.

“Thanks?” You say, and he grins, shuffling onto his knees all of a sudden. You mope the loss of his tongue on your pussy, but forget about it the second he reaches for his desk and returns with a condom.

He tears the foil packet open with gentle hands, eyes weirdly zeroed in on that only. You nudge his hip, and when he meets your gaze, he instantly averts it. Like he’s suddenly shy.

Oh he was gonna be the death of you.

You tug his boxers down and get to revel in more of those bashful glances, but you soon forget about that when he grips his rock hard member in one hand, jacking it to its full potential. “Ready?” He says, one hand gripping your hip, the other his cock. You nod, and then shift up onto your elbows to watch him sink into you.

You can barely keep your eyes open, the second the tip of his cock brushes against you your eyes roll back into your head. You moan, letting yourself flop back against the mattress, chest heaving with each inch he sinks in. “Fuck, you’re big,” you cry, biting down on your fist.

Jeongguk chuckles. “Yeah?” He grunts, and then stills as he waits for you to catch your breath. He gives you exactly four seconds before he’s thrusting the remainder of the way in.

Your back arches off the bed, a high-pitched moan ripping itself out of your throat. “Jeon!”

“Relax, relax,” he croons, releasing your hip to lean over you, peppering your face in kisses. You’re heaving for air, so overwhelmed with emotions. “You’re doing so good for me, doll,” he comforts, kissing every inch of you until you regain your wits. “So wet and warm for me, you have no idea how bad I wanna just ram my cock into your tight, little pussy.”

You huff, heart still skipping by the time you grow familiar with the sheer size of his dick inside of you. When you’ve finally come back down to earth, eyes fluttering at Jeongguk, he gives you one affirmative nod before he begins really fucking you.

He starts carefully, like he’s afraid he’ll break you with one push. You’re thankful that he’s at least somewhat aware of his own bear strength, but you’d prefer if he picked up the pace. Before you can file a complaint, he’s hiking your thigh up onto the crease of his elbow, and ramming himself into you.

“Could already hear some smart ass comment coming,” he groans, snapping his hips into you with a newfound intensity. You moan, trying desperately to reciprocate some movements back.

“Wasn’t gonna say anything,” you gasp, fingernails digging into the skin of his shoulders, scratching lone lines down his back. Jeongguk snorts, pushing in, and then grinding your pelvises together deliciously.

He rolls his eyes, then chooses that exact moment to capture your lips in his. You groan softly, body boneless beneath him at the gentle way he kisses you, like his entire life depends on this single kiss.

When he finally releases your lips, he’s huffing against your mouth, hips having not stopped a single time. You know he’s tired and so riled up; you’d felt the brush of his half-hard member from the moment you first laid down to watch the movie.

But Jeongguk was a gentleman, through and through. You’d felt the brush of his cock, and heard the thundering of his heart, but he hadn’t pushed you further a single time. He basked in your presence, waiting until you crept your hand beneath his shirt to finally pounce.

“I’m close,” you tell him, reaching down to toy with your clit. Jeongguk had treated it like the finest treasure earlier, but now your gentle caresses feel mediocre compared to the way he’d touched it. Jeongguk nods, the tips of his wavy hair sticking to his forehead and the back of his neck. You abandon your quest to finish yourself off and focus on brushing his hair away from his face. “You’re so good to me,” you moan, lightly picking the corner of his mouth. “Don’t deserve you.”

He rams his cock into you, the arm not holding up your thigh weakening, until he’s leaning on his forearm over you. “Don’t say that,” he chokes out, and you wonder if his orgasm is as close as yours.

A particular brush of his cock against your cervix has you seeing stars, thighs clenching around him. “Just a little bit—more,” you beg, body writhing beneath him, pushing yourself up to meet his thrusts.

“So perfect,” he praises, kissing along your jaw. “Come for me, baby.”

You nod, but not before cupping his face in your hands, and pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. He makes a soft little sound of surprise, smile pressed against your mouth, and the heat in your abdomen finally explodes. You disassociate for all of one second, consumed in a wave of bliss never before heard of, his pistoning thrusts working you through it.

You nearly cry from how good it feels, throwing an arm around his neck to pull him closer. You’re babbling like an idiot, saying shit you won’t remember later. What you do recall is the chuckles Jeongguk had muffled against your neck, hips never faltering as he chased his own high.

He finds it a few beats later, the muscles of his back suddenly going rigid. He moans your name, somehow making it sound like it’s the best song in the world, before his hips begin stuttering in their mission. He eventually goes slack, slumped over you without completely crushing you beneath the weight of his muscles.

By the time you’ve fully recovered, he’s sliding out of you. Right as you go to speak, he stuffs two fingers into your sensitive cunt. “Jeon!” You wail, reaching down to push him away before you come again.

He snickers. “What? It’d be a waste to let it out,” he says, letting go when he’s decided he’s done his job, popping the digits into his mouth. You groan, trying to quell the excitement that builds in your chest from watching him suck your cum off his fingers.

“You’re the worst,” you sigh, snatching his t-shirt off the edge of the bed to tug over your bare form. Jeongguk tugs his underwear back on, retrieving yours from where he’d flung them across the room. When you’re settled into the blankets again, you’re not expecting the laptop to return as well. You raise a questioning eyebrow.

Jeongguk shrugs, nestling into your chest. “Hit play, this is when Professor Poopy Pants begins attacking the city.”

#kpopwonderlandtag #ksmutclub #jungkook smut #jeongguk smut #jjk♡#jeongguk #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungkook #mine

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ihopethisendswell · 3 years

Text

The part where you get basic info on my Pokémon oc's so you don't get confused when I post about them.

This is gonna be a long post. I have like 8 total. 16 if your counting the secondary protags (my version of May and Lucas for example,which I won't be going over in detail cause I'm not insane). Might want to check my timeline 9 it's pinned or just check bulbapedia if your confused about the ages. If you have any questions feel free to ask. I hope you enjoy :)

Name :Jin Amachi

Gender: " I am nonbinary. I they/ them pronouns, but I'm alright with he/ him as well.

Age:

12( when started journey in Hoenn( Emerald)

22 by SM/USUSM

26 by SWSH

Basic info: With all things said and done, Jin is grateful for their journey. They learned a lot, even if they had to stop two extreme environmentalist along the way. They know the two meant well, but it's just too bizarre for it to happen. Though the two seem to be in a better place now. They're happy for them. They're father and them talk more now. It's still awkward, but better. They know he's trying his best, and they will do the same. It's much better than back then. But no need to worry about the past.

If anything, they're more worried about the others.

Kenji Elm

Gender: " I'm getting sudden dejavu. But I'm a boy! The best boy! Don't call me a girl, I will cry. And because I'm not one! So don't. Anyway have you heard of-" * starts to ramble*

Age:

10 when journey started in Johto( HGSS)

17 by SM

21 by SWSH

Basic Info: Kenji Elm is not the biological son of Professor Elm. He was adopted at a young age, and he doesn't know who is birth parents. Not that he cares. He's more than happy with the family he got( though he wonders when they'll throw him away like his parents did). Energetic and always willing for an adventure, Kenji is generally on the move!( He's so sorry if he's being annoying please don't leave please)

He has a vast amount of interests, but his two favorites are painting and battling. Battling is obvious, he's the champion of the Indigo League, but he always had an artistic eye. But his favorite pastime is hanging out with his friends! When he gets the time of course. He's sometimes wonder how he was able to hold the title of champion for so long though haha ( his win was a fluke he knows it he knows it) .But yeah! That's Kenji! Always there with a smile! Our little golden boy! 😁

Name: Danica Yamamoto

Gender: "I'm a girl. She/her pronouns. They/ them is cool too. Don't mind Kenji, he talks a lot." *Offended Kenji noises in the background*

Age:

11 when journey started in Sinnoh( Platinum)

18 by SM)

22 by SWSH

Basic Info: Giratina and Arcues are quite alike, the more she thinks about it. Though, the rest if Sinnoh, quite possibly the whole world would disagree with her. Giratina is " the lord of darkness". It's followers have a history of not being....the best. Giratina resides alone in the Distortion World, paying for it's past sins. Clearly, Giratina and Arcues are nothing alike.

Hm? Oh. Right. Pardon.

Danica grew up in Twinleaf town, with her best friend Barry. Those two are almost polar opposites. Barry is always moving, going fast, and doesn't wait for no one( except Danica and Emmet). Danica can go fast, possibly faster than Barry, but likes to take things slow. Both can be quite chaotic.Barry has a bit of a temper, Danica's chill. Both are cases where you should run when they are angry. Like. Very angry. The two bounces of each other well,and hang out regularly with Emmet, even with their busy professions ( Danica as champion, Barry as Frontier Brain and Emmet as a professor). Danica loves baking, and would often be making poffins and other baked treats for her, her pokemon and others ! She's also a bit of a nerd, so you'll also find her in a library or two. Her pokemon are her babies, and she hopes to have plenty of battles with them in the future!

.....

But really. They are quite alike. Both are beings of great power. Both have a following, even if one is less seen. Both are feared. They are feared greatly. Do they fear each other? Did Arcues banish Giratina in fear of the world or in fear of losing control? Did Giratina learn it's lesson after eons of being in the Distortion World? She could never tell. It doesn't really open up much, only going back to said Distortion World on its own Accord( it felt wrong to be it's "owner"). Though it do comes back, surprisingly. Maybe because she asked it to. To make sure Cyrus doesn't die in there. He still won't come out. She doesn't understand why. It's been years. Has he learned his lesson? Giratina seems to be fond of him. Affectionate. Cyrus never objects to this. So he must right? Right?

Ah, getting off topic. They're quite alike, being feared by the masses. Even if Arcues is mostly beloved. It's a god. It has such power. They're both feared. They themselves must fear as well . It must get lonely....... She thinks she gets Cyrus now.

Name: Alexis " Alex" Jones

Gender: " Um, hi? I'm just a dude. Use he/ him pronouns.....yeah"

Age:

14 when journey started in Unova( BW)

18 by SM

22 by SWSH

Basic info: It's so funny, the more he thinks about. He was so excited, despite his worries. He was going on a journey. A gym challenge. Pathway to champion. He was going to do that! With his sister and his friends! On his birthday! It was perfect! It should have been perfect! But everything just went wrong.

The bodies, the blood, the pressure to " be a hero"( intentional or not), it was all too much. Too much. Then- then he was a coward. He fled it all. Even after saving the day. It was stupid. So stupid. And the people in his life had a right to be angry. Why wouldn't they? He deserved it, really. But now things are better(?). He has a daycare to co-run, he's gradually learning his way as a pokemon medic, and he still has his pokemon( the ones that were lucky enough to survive). He's so grateful for them. He doesn't battle, though. No, he's never doing that ever again. He's caused enough harm( he hates how he stares at trainers battling). He's no good anyway( he hates how bored his team looks half the time) . He doesn't understand why people insist that he is( he hates that he has this itch, this desire). He doesn't understand why they look so disappointed when he says he doesn't battle anymore( he hates that he misses the rush, the strategy, the freedom of it all). He's fine with what he got. He's no hero.

.....Why is his aunt calling him?

Name: Evangeline " Eva" Ortiz

Gender: " Hiya! I'm a lovely lady! I use she/her pronouns, please and thank you!"

Age:

14 when journey started ( B2W2)

16 by SM

20 by SwSh

Basic Info: Eva! Eva my Beloved. Eva's fun, y'know? Always moving, helping, laughing, smiling. Life of the party! She rivals Kenji with that winning smile. Not to mention that she's a great battler! It's almost like she was born for this. Maybe she is! Who knows. But what she do know is that she's Unova's Champ and she gotta defend her title! And protect her region! Though she probably would have done that without the title anyway haha! Hmm what else? Oh! She loves technology! For some reason that surprises a lot of people that don't really know her, but she does! She's a bit of a tinkerer if she do say so herself. She likes it when people compliment on her skills it makes her more confident in them. Even Col-

No.

....

Ahem.

Anyway she's pretty talented. But that comes from a lot of hard work! And luck. But lots of hard work.( And also luck). Aaaah, that should that's it? Well, she does tend to be distant, b-but she's busy, yeah? Don't worry about it. Oh! One more thing. It's not really a big deal, just a random fact.

She hates the cold.

Name Jude Bellrose

Gender: "...... Why do you care ?" ( E: Jude don't be rude! Al: No no, she has a point.) *Ooc: Jude is genderfluid. Right now, in this post, she's using she/ her pronouns, but she also uses he/him and they/them*

Age:

18 when journey started in Kalos( XY)

20 by SM

24 by SwSh

Basic info: Death has a way of teaching you things. Jude learned a lot from it. She learns to not take it for granted, both death itself and the one that is dead.She learns to be humble. She learns to be kind.

Jude was, and still is, prickly. She's not rude my any means, unless she is, but she's just hard to become friends with. She used to have this philosophy of trainer and pokemon; they should be no emotional bonds. They're not here for that. They're here to win. And she did. Until she didn't. Her first pokemon died. It devastated her. Her pokemon, surprisingly, comforted her. And then another one died, and her pokemon comforted her again. Star, her Staraptor, was strong. So strong, and yet it died, and she cried and get pokemon cried with her. She never felt so loved. Not saying that her mother doesn't love her, the opposite really, it's just things have been....complicated. Couple that with strangers turn( begrudgingly) friends, and Jude's heart turned all warm inside. Not that she'll ever admit that outloud.

Jude is a kind person, despite her prickly nature. She loves the world around her, loves her friends, loves her pokemon. She respects death, despite the pain she causes her. The world itself of beautiful as it is, which it's such a shame that a capitalist fool a certain someone couldn't see that way( poor Sycamore).

Jude is a good trainer, despite her loss. She knows this. She'll prove it too the moon and back. If only a certain someone thought the same for himself.

Aster Mahina

Gender: "...." "Mizzz Aster is a girl! She uses she/her pronouns! Zzt."

Age:

11 in SM, where her journey started

15 by SwSh

Basic Bio: Aster doesn't hate Kanto. She doesn't. She was born there and lived there for 11 years. She just doesn't want to back. But she has to, cause she's " the first champion of Alola and as champion" yada yada yada. Like. She gets it. Being Alola's first and currently only champion, you gotta make an impression. She gets that. She still doesn't want to go. Even when she's been there, like, 4 times now. There are some good things in Kanto though. Lillie is there. And seeing Lillie physically is always a plus. She also gets to see Uncle Red, Uncle Green, and Aunt Blue. Kenji, while not living in Kanto, is champion of the Indigo League, and it's always fun with Kenji( she loves his art). But. Like. She still doesn't want to go.

But she also likes being Champion. That means she's strong. And since she's strong she can protect her mom. But she can't protect her mom when she's all the way in Kanto! What if he comes back? What if goes to Alola when she's away? She knows that her mom is strong, she knows that but still!

No. No it's okay. Her mom is strong. Lillie is strong. Gladion is strong . Hau is strong. Guzma is strong. They're all strong. She's strong.

She is strong.

Name: Naomi Einar

Gender: "I-I'm a girl! She/her pronouns please!"

Age:

15 in SWSH, which is the start of her gym challenge in Galar!

Basic Info: Hop is pretty convincing, she realizes. Or maybe she's very weak willed. " Let's do the gym challenge together!" He said. He had that look in his eye. She couldn't say no. Or she could, but that would make him upset, and that's the last thing she wants.

If she's being honest with herself, she's scared. She doesn't like big crowds, the attention. They'll be so many eyes on her. So many. A-and then there's Lee and her cousin, Alexis. Hop has made her sit down and watch almost every single match Leon has had. He's an amazing trainer. A-and her mum would tell her stories about Alexis. He was a hero! He stopped an evil team and everything! She can't live up to that! She never even battled before, why would Hop-

No. It's okay. It's okay. She- she'll just quite after failing the first gym. She can handle the embarrassment. And then she'll cheer Hop on when he wins against his brother. Yep. She'll do just that. Okay. Okay.

.....

Everyday, Slumbering Weald seem to intrigue her more and more. It's almost like it's calling her. Da?

No. It- it'sprobably nothing.

#pokemon oc #long post #just the basic info :)#the title is totally not misleading in anyway shape or form #:)#trust me!

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hermannsthumb · 4 years

Note

Idk if you doing requests or not rn buut, feriowind has been posting a bunch of vampire!Hermann and I needs some modern vampire Hermann and professor Newt...

uwu ily

SO I feel like I should open by saying a WIP fic with this concept by @coloredpencilroses exists and I Love it, so read High Stakes for something much better than this lol (and leave a nice comment). HAPPY OCTOBER!!!! warning for very mildly implied sexy stuff. EDIT: and of COURSE I forgot to tag @theloccent for my extremely belated fill for the “Vampire” square on my bingo card :/

-----------------------

Newt has always been an extremely persistent type. He considers it, naturally, one his greatest strengths—no theory goes untested, no question goes unanswered, no experiment goes…well, unexperimented. You don’t get more PhDs than you can count on one hand if you’re not persistent. You don’t get a date with the hot new engineering professor down the hall if you’re not persistent, either, but Newt is finding this venture is taking a little more effort than usual. That’s fine, though. He likes challenges.

Dr. Gottlieb was hired by the university at the start of the semester, after the head of the engineering department—who’s nearing her seventies—finally decided she’d had enough and announced her retirement somewhat last minute. He is, frankly, unlike anyone Newt’s ever seen before, a weird combination of cheekbones, wide lips, and a turn-of-the-century old-fashioned air that carries over into everything from his wardrobe to the stiff way he carries himself. He wouldn’t look out of place in a black and white photograph, Newt thinks. Or maybe even the illustrations of a Dickens novel. That’s not why Newt’s into him, though—well, not the only reason why.

In the entire month and a half Gottlieb’s been here, he hasn’t spoken a single word to anyone his contract doesn’t require him to; when he is forced into conversation, he scowls and snaps and mumbles his way through before making a polite excuse as to why he needs to leave the room right now, immediately. No one knows anything about him other than the bare minimum—that his name is Dr. Gottlieb, he lectures in engineering, and he exists. Shit, Newt doesn’t even know his first name. The little plaque outside his office just says Gottlieb.

The mystery just makes Gottlieb all the more alluring to Newt.

Anyway, his continued failures in winning Gottlieb over aren’t a result of a lack of trying. On Gottlieb’s first day, Newt stopped by his office to introduce himself. He didn’t bother knocking. Maybe that was his first mistake. “I’m Newt,” he said. “My office is a few doors down from you. You’re the new department head?”

Gottlieb looked stricken, but he nodded. “Yes,” he said. He didn’t say anything else.

“Cool,” Newt said. “Anyway, I’m technically in the bio department, but I teach a few interdisciplinary courses with engineering, so I requested they stick me over here to get a bigger office.” He cracked a grin. “I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

“Hm,” Gottlieb said.

Newt tried again the next day.

“Your office is so dark,” he said, conversationally, because it was—lights all off, books stacked up everywhere, maroon drapes drawn tightly in front of the single small window. Dark and stuffy. “Feel free to stop by my office whenever you want a break from it. I have a corner one, so I have two windows.”

“I requested this office,” Gottlieb said, not looking up the article he was marking up.

Newt became desperate by his third attempt and did something that’s left him burning with shame even now, weeks later, and that would probably warrant the immediate transfers of sleep-deprived engineering majors out of all his courses if word ever got out it was him: he deliberately broke the department coffee machine. “Man, I can’t believe that thing is busted again,” he declared to Gottlieb. “Good thing I have a Keurig in my office.” Newt had gone out and purchased a Keurig immediately before destroying the coffee pot. “Seriously, come by whenever you need caffeine.”

Gottlieb blinked at him, long and slow, and Newt had the strangest sense that he knew exactly what happened to the coffee pot. “I never drink… coffee,” Gottlieb finally said.

For all Newt’s troubles, the list of things he knows about Gottlieb has expanded by two pitiful points: that his accent is English and posh, and his voice is low and sexy. Helpful.

It’s a chilly day in late October when Newt finally decides to enlist the aid of his interdisciplinary undergrads. Some of them—he learned after poking around their registration records—have a seminar with Gottlieb, and they seem his best bet at learning anything. A spouse—a first name—Newt would take Gottlieb’s favorite color, even. “So,” he starts class, unwinding his scarf off his neck, “that Dr. Gottlieb sure is weird, huh?”

In Newt’s firsthand experience, undergrads love to gossip about their professors, and his certainly don’t disappoint. Gottlieb’s classes are all held in the basement of the engineering building. All run well into the evening, after the sun’s set—most not finished until nine—and Gottlieb hustles out of the lecture hall the moment he can. He walks with a cane and a slight limp. He always dresses like that. He’s never mentioned any sort of family, and wears no wedding ring. He’s scary good at math. No one knows his first name.

“You’ve been an invaluable help,” Newt tells them all seriously.

He mulls the new information over in his office later as he grades some tests. So Gottlieb is a bit of shy, reclusive, genius. No surprise there. Well, his apparent hatred of sunlight is kind of weird (if unsurprising, given how pale he is) but maybe he just has sensitive eyes or something. Who is Newt to judge? At least he knows how to improve his next plan of attack—he just has to ask the guy to come over and sit in a dark room in silence with him. That’s probably Gottlieb’s dream date, actually.

There’s a knock on Newt’s office door. Newt looks up and drops his pen: it’s Gottlieb.

“Uh. Hey, dude!” he squeaks, unsure of how to proceed in this entirely unfamiliar territory. Gottlieb, willingly interacting with him? Willingly leaving his office? “Is there…can I help you with something? Did you want that coffee after all?”

“Most definitely not,” Gottlieb says coolly. He’s standing far enough back from the door that not a single sliver of lamp light from Newt’s office hits him, instead shrouded by the shadows of the dark engineering department. Newt didn’t realize how late it had gotten. “My students informed me that you were interrogating them about me.”

It’s not a question. Newt is struck by a wave of nervousness that he doesn’t quite understand—maybe it’s the sour expression Gottlieb is giving him, something in those dark brown eyes that are piercing through Newt. He feels, foolishly and briefly, like cowering under his desk. He swallows. “Yes,” he says, and adds, stammering, “I mean—I wasn’t interrogating them. I was just asking a few questions.”

“Why?” Gottlieb says.

“Uh,” Newt says. “I guess I was…curious, about you?”

He works up the guts to look Gottlieb in the eyes; he sees Gottlieb’s eyebrows jump the tiniest fraction of an inch. “You’re attracted to me,” Gottlieb says, another non-question, though Newt hears a flicker of surprise.

“Yeah,” Newt admits.

“I see,” Gottlieb says. Then, to Newt’s surprise, he suddenly smiles. “I’d like if you invited me over for dinner, Dr. Geiszler.”

“Dinner,” Newt says. He feels strangely dizzy; but, shaking himself, he quickly gets over it. “I mean, dinner! Yes! Shit! When?”

“Tonight, I should think,” Hermann says.

Tonight is Friday, which means they don’t have work tomorrow. By the time they make it off campus it’ll be almost ten—way later than people eat dinner—and besides, Newt already had a sandwich at around seven. Is dinner a euphemism? Is Gottlieb propositioning him? God, why didn’t he wash his sheets with the laundry this week? “Tonight,” Newt says. He stands up abruptly and grabs his leather jacket with trembling fingers. Why is he trembling? Nerves, he guesses. He’s about to hook up with total hottie Dr. Gottlieb, he’s allowed to be nervous. “Fuck yes. Let’s go now.”

Gottlieb is not impressed with the messy state of Newt’s apartment, and even less impressed with the state of Newt’s refrigerator and freezer. “Dinosaur chicken nuggets and canned Lime-A-Ritas,” he says with a sniff. “Hm. You ought to be getting more vitamins, Dr. Geiszler. I’m certain you’re deficient in something.”

“You sound like my dad,” Newt snorts. He throws his car keys on the counter and shrugs off his jacket. “There’s some leftover Chinese on the second shelf if you want it—just some lo mein. Or I could put a frozen pizza in the oven. Or I guess we could order something too?”

Gottlieb shuts the fridge door delicately. “How kind of you to offer,” he says. He doesn’t sound like he means it. Newt is suddenly struck by how bizarre a sight he is in the midst of Newt’s chaotic kitchen: buttoned up to the throat with his stupid shirt and blazer, prodding at the fraying lime lizard-shaped rug by the sink with the end of his ornately-handled cane. Out of time and out of place.

“It’s Newt,” Newt says. “Please don’t call me Dr. Geiszler, it makes me feel ancient.”

“Hm,” Gottlieb says.

“And what,” Newt says, deciding to test his luck a little, “uh—what should I call you?”

Gottlieb considers him. “Hermann,” he says.

The name rings a bell in the back of Newt’s head. He swears he’s heard it somewhere before—an article, maybe. A book. Has he stumbled across Dr. Gottlieb’s research before without even realizing it? He’s on the verge of asking what publications Gottlieb’s been featured in when Gottlieb suddenly snags hold of his hand; then, raising it to his mouth, he kisses it. His lips are as cold as his skin. “Would you like to show me to your quarters, Newton?” he murmurs.

Newt shivers; he nods.

“Hermann Gottlieb,” Newt says aloud later, while Hermann redresses himself. “Now I know where I’ve heard that name before.”

“Yes?” Hermann says. He’s lacing up one of his Oxfords.

“I worked with his research in one of my dissertations,” Newt says. “Another Dr. Hermann Gottlieb, I mean. He was a brilliant mathematician from—God, 1830-something. German. His work was groundbreaking for the time, or shit, for our time, too.” He remembers seeing a portrait of that Hermann Gottlieb in one of his sources; the whole of the similarities between him and Newt’s Hermann Gottlieb (the dark eyes, the mouth, the cheekbones) are a little too much to be entirely coincidental. “You must be related to him, right? Like, he’s your great-great-great—”

“Yes,” Hermann cuts him off quickly. He turns to Newt and smiles. “A distant ancestor, certainly. I believe you are the first in some time to have made that connection.”

“Always thought he was cool,” Newt yawns. “Man, I’m tired.” The romp with Hermann had been fun, if not unexpectedly exhausting, and a little…out of the ordinary. The dude apparently has some sort of weird biting kink that left Newt’s neck stinging a little bit, but it’s cool, Newt doesn’t mind. It was like boning a vampire or something. Kinda hot. “Do you need me to show you to the door, or can I just stay here? I’m serious about spending the night though. I really don’t mind.”

Hermann fiddles with the laces of his other shoe, then, slowly, draws the whole thing back off. “If it’s not an imposition,” he says, and smiles again, shyly. “Though, I warn you—I’m a bit of a late sleeper.”

“Good, so I am,” Newt says. “Could you toss me the sweatshirt hanging on that chair? You can grab one for yourself too, if you’re cold, I’ve got another hanging in the closet. No, not--yeah, that door.”

They dip under the covers and get cozy, Newt taking on the task of big spoon, because Hermann is a cold sonofabitch and could use a little insulation. The last thought on his mind before he drifts off to a comfortable sleep is how strange it is he can’t feel Hermann’s heartbeat—though, he realizes, it’s probably just muffled by their clothing.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

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e350tb · 3 years

Text

The Owl House: A Blight on Gravesfield (Chapter Two)

Two

Luz wakes up.

So, ten Puritans walk into Connecticut. Sounds like the start of a joke, doesn’t it?

To be fair, ‘Puritans’ might not be the right word here. Most of them were, certainly, like Goodfaith Smathers, and the excellently named The-Lord-Shall-Damn-Ye-Sinners Marlowe, who seems to have insisted on his full name being used in all conversation. But then there’s the pair we’ll be talking about today, Philip and John Wittelsbane.

You’ve all seen the statue, I’m sure, but nearly all the ‘common knowledge’ about them is actually false.

See, in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth century, the Wittlesbanes were big on the whole ‘family history’ thing, but not so much on the whole ‘truth telling’ thing. The story that John Wittelsbane personally chose the site of Gravesfield, and that he personally converted a local Pequot village to Christianity? There’s no evidence of that, and indeed it seems very unlikely, because John was sixteen at the time, and Smathers was the real leader of the exhibition.

Of course, Smathers died in the Pequot War, and The-Lord-Shall-Blah-Blah-Blah Marlowe went out from smallpox in 1639. The others were illiterate, so most of the records of early Gravesfield come from the Wittelsbanes. So it’s very easy for their family to pretend they were more important than they actually were.

Now, in 1642, something very big happens. It doesn’t happen in America, but it’s effects cross the Atlantic. Can anyone tell me what that is?

The Thirty Years War? Close, that was just about ending at this time. Any other guesses?

That’s right, the English Civil War! Or the War of the Three Kingdoms, as some call it today. To put it simply, you had the Cavaliers supporting the King on one side, and the Roundheads supporting Parliament on the other. It’s a gross oversimplification but it’s all you really need to know for this class.

A sixth of all the men in New England went back to England to fight for Parliament, and most people generally supported the Roundheads. Most people. Do you remember what I said about dissenters? Fascinating people with bizarre names, like Fifth Monarchists and Muggletonians. Some of them were very egalitarian, at least for the time.

It seems the Wittelsbanes got themselves mixed up in a particularly weird form of dissension. In 1645, Philip starts writing a lot about witches - but not in the same way that someone like, for example, Matthew Hopkins, Witchfinder-General in England, might have. This wasn’t fear; it was curiosity. He and John began to believe that magic was a gift from Christ.

This was a privately held belief of cause. The war was breeding suspicion in the Puritan populace of Connecticut, and in 1647, something happened in that colony. Something that would set the course for a split between the Wittelsbane brothers that would never be healed.

It was the beginning of the Connecticut Witch Trials.

---------

It was storming in earnest now, the wind shaking the house as the sounds of driving rain pounded on the windows. It was dark enough that Camila had had to turn the lights on, although the artificial light did little to abate the sense of gloom that hung over the house.

They had moved Luz and the other girl into Camila’s bedroom - there was more room to lay them down on the bed. That had been about an hour ago, and Camila was getting more than a little restless. She sat on her chair, facing away from her desk, rapping on the wood with her fingers. Vee paced by the door, looking no less antsy.

“We should call an ambulance,” declared Camila at last.

“What’re we gonna tell them?” asked Vee.

“I… I don’t know,” replied Camila, “But…”

There was a cough.

Camila’s eyes widened as Luz slowly began to sit up, rubbing her head.

“...man, I feel like I got hit by a truck…”

“Luz!”

Camila leapt out of her chair and darted over to her daughter, instinctively pulling her into a hug.

“Cariño, I’m so glad you’re okay,” she said, her voice breaking. “I was so worried! I…”

“M-mom?”

Luz blinked; it seemed like she didn’t know how to process her surroundings. She blinked, and a few tears ran down her cheek.

“Mom!”

She returned the hug, chest heaving. Neither of them moved for some time - there was a sense of unreality, the sudden ability to see each other, to touch each other. For a brief and beautiful moment, nothing else in the world mattered; just them, reunited at last.

Eventually, Camila pulled out of the hug.

“Oh, mija, never scare me like that again,” she sighed.

“Mom, I…”

Luz’s face fell, her eyes widening.

“...wait, where’s Eda?” she asked. “Where’s King? Where’s…”

She looked to her right, her eyes falling on the girl unconscious next to her. She gripped the bedsheets, starting to shake.

“Amity?” she exclaimed. “But… but we’re in the human world! Which means there’s a portal! We’ve gotta get Amity home!”

“Yeah, about that…” said Vee, rubbing the back of her head.

Camila frowned.

“The… portal disappeared,” she said.

Luz swallowed.

“So… we’re stuck?”

“We’re stuck?” The words came out before Camila could stop herself.

Luz’s eyes widened and she shook her head.

“No, no, that’s not… that’s not what I…”

She reached out, seizing Camila’s hands in hers.

“Mami, I don’t want to leave you again, I didn’t - I never wanted to hurt you, I just…”

Camila took a deep breath, closing her eyes.

“Luz,” she said, as evenly as she could, “I think we both need to talk about this.”

Luz bowed her head.

“I know.”

She turned to Amity.

“Is… is Amity okay?” she asked. “I don’t remember her getting hurt.”

“She cast a spell, I think,” replied Camila. “Something about… sharing the pain?”

Luz swallowed, and a few more tears spilled down her cheek.

“Oh Amity,” she said. “You didn’t… you didn’t have to do that for me. You didn’t have to do any of this…”

“Amity?” Vee tilted her head. “Amity Blight?”

Luz turned and nodded.

“Yeah,” she replied. “How do you know… oh yeah, Blight family, duh.”

She turned back to Amity - just in time to see her eyes slowly start to open.

“L… Luz?” she murmured.

“It’s okay, Amity, I’m here,” Luz replied. “We’re gonna figure this out, okay? Just…”

She sighed.

“...it’s just a little complicated.”

-------

“He really believed in witches from Mars?”

The Gravesfield Historical Society had been closed for the past two weeks; this was the first time somebody who wasn’t a policeman had stepped in since the Jacob Hopkins Incident. But the Society had to keep going, and that meant the museum needed a new curator.

Enter Professor Fabian Stearne.

Stearne was an older man, somewhere between fifty and sixty, and looked every inch the prof. The tweed jacket, the blue shirt (tie roguishly discarded), the purple cardigan and the fire-engine red vans painted the picture of a charming eccentric, not hindered by his half-moon glasses, comb over, and trimmed grey moustache. He was a Gravesfield ‘lifer,’ who had rejected esteemed job offers from Yale and Harvard to head the history department at the small Gravesfield College.

And he’d never wanted to be a curator; if anyone had asked him, he’d tell them he was a researcher, preferring to dig up new theories than present old relics. Yet now there was literally no one else to do the job, so it was up to him.

“I did my PhD with him. Never thought he had that sort of thing in him.”

His assistant, Ben Frakes, was helping him clean the staff room - clearing the mess of weird conspiracy theory paraphernalia to make it a little more professional. Much younger than Stearne, Ben was fairly junior in the history department; he was convening his first course, ‘History and Myth in Gravesfield,’ a small, niche course that he nevertheless enjoyed.

Stearne and Frakes went back many years; Ben’s whole progress from history undergrad to PhD had been done under his watch. The lanky young man, brown haired, clean shaven and with a propensity for leather jackets, owed his career to Stearne, and he was always keen to give back when he could.

If that meant taking doctored photos of ‘owl beasts’ off a wall, then he was happy to do it.

“Yes, it’s a shame what happened to Jacob,” nodded Stearne. “But he’s not the first historian to run afoul of the law. Hopefully, once he’s gotten the help he needs, he can get back on his feet.”

He took the photo from Ben’s hands.

“He’s a clever man,” he said. “Just prone to wild imagination.”

“And animal endangerment?” said Ben, raising an eyebrow.

Stearne chuckled.

“What is a historian without eccentricity?”

“I’m surprised you took this job,” mused Ben, grabbing a box to take out to the trash. “You were always so critical of museums.”

“Well, there are worse ways to spend your twilight years than curating,” shrugged Stearne. “And Mr. Wittelsbane made a very compelling case. The town needs this museum. We can’t lose track of our past.”

Ben chuckled.

“Well, I’m gonna take this out back,” he said. “You need me to carry anything else?”

“No, my boy, not just yet,” replied Stearne.

“Okay, see you when I get back!”

Stearne watched as Ben walked away - as soon as he was gone, he looked down at the photograph, running a hand across it.

“Oh, my dear Jacob, so close and yet so far,” he sighed. “But worry not, worry not.”

He smiled - or perhaps it was more of a smirk.

“Redemption comes for all of us, in the end.”

#the owl house #luz noceda #amity blight #camila noceda #vee #fanfiction #writing #a blight on gravesfield

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korra-the-red-lion · 3 years

Text

Unnatural Affairs. Chapter 20: What Do We Do Now?

(Ally + Lyn + Michael)

Ally.

It doesn’t make sense to me.

No matter how many times I’ve stared at the picture, it’s just not connecting. How could our professor be the one in the picture when he was alive and well, torturing us with his love for drama? It was like my brain had stopped working, because there were no theories or thoughts running through it for once. I was at a loss for words.

We ended up just going back to our rooms after that bomb was dropped, because what else could we do? We needed answers from someone who could actually give us something to work with. Our best option was to see if Dahlia would be able to tell us anything, or maybe even the lady that Michael’s been speaking to at the Dreaming Mythic.

As I unlocked the door to my room, Sarah was still up, working away at something on her laptop. She glanced my way when I walked in, looking away with an embarrassed flush. At this point, I was used to her just ignoring me, even though it still stung. Controlling the urge to sigh, I dropped my schoolbag and purse onto the floor, then kicked my boots off. I was ready to hit the bed right there and then when I heard Sarah clear her throat.

“Hey…” she said carefully, glancing my way.

“Hey,” I said just as cautiously.

“So, like…um,” Sarah rubbed her hands together awkwardly. “I thought about you told me… and like, well, it is a little hard to believe but I’ve decided something. I’m not going to like, ruin a friendship I have with you because of that.” She sat on the edge of the bed now, her eyes filled with tears. “I’ve been a bad friend, Ally. I hope you can like, forgive me for taking so long to realize that. I totally understand if you like, never want to talk to me again. I just wanted to let you know that I like, really miss you and know how badly I messed up.”

My own eyes had filled with tears and now they were spilling out. They left hot trails on my cheeks as I nodded. “I forgive you.”

Sarah sobbed as she got up. I got up too and we hugged each other tightly. I couldn’t believe that this was happening. I honestly thought that this was over, that we were never going to talk to each other again. I’ve lost so many people in my life to this, so the fact that I had so many friends I had who accepted me was so startling beautiful.

We pulled away and Sarah put her hands on my shoulders, looking into my eyes. “Ally, you have to, like, promise me that you’ll be more careful, though. Those bruises…they were horrible.”

“I’m trying to be,” I sniffled. “It’s not like I’m looking for danger, danger just comes looking for me.”

Sarah giggled wetly. “Danger usually follows trouble. So, if you’re like, looking for trouble, danger is sure to be there too.”

“Okay, I’ll try a little bit harder.” I smiled softly at her, placing my hands on hers. “Now, sorry, but I really need sleep. I’m about to pass out on my feet.”

“Please don’t.”

Tonight, as I slipped under the covers, my heart felt a little bit lighter, even if my head was full of uncontrolled thoughts.

XXX

Drama was the most awkward class the next time I was in it.

I sat in between Mags and Michael, as Professor Kinkly was wrapping up his lecture for the day. Exams were only a few short weeks away, so he wanted to make sure he was cramming all his last-minute crap in now. I wasn’t listening to a word he was saying as my eyes were focused solely on the clock, watching the seconds tick away. Class seemed like it was never going to end.

“…and I’m handing back those papers you all wrote for me,” said Kinkly as his final remarks before the end. I sat up a little straighter when I realized what was going on.

He started calling names so people would go up front and grab them. When my name was called, I stiffened for a second before scooting out of my seat, slipping past Michael as I did. When I walked up to him, all I could see was the face in the photograph. He barely looked any older now. How was that even possible?

“Good job, Alexandra,” he said as he handed back my paper. “It was a very interesting read.”

“Thank you,” I said stiffly. I’m not sure why, but suddenly I really didn’t like that he had my full name. There was a deep discomfort settling in my stomach at the thought. I quickly retreated back to where my bag was and stuffed the paper inside.

“Is everything okay?” Mags asked as they glanced at the grade scrawled on the back of their paper.

I nodded carefully, making sure to look more relaxed. “Just ready to get out of here, I’m starving.”

“Amen to that.”

Eventually Michael got up to get his paper. I’m pretty sure he was actually the last person in class to get his paper. Poor guy and his unfortunate placing in the alphabet. Together, we scampered out of there, the two of us sparing one last glance at our professor. I noticed with a jolt that he was watching us leave, the lens of his glasses reflecting funny, so we could barely make out his eyes. It was very creepy.

My head was in the clouds as we walked across campus, not really focusing on the conversation at hand. We passed by Dahlia’s tree, and I found myself looking for the ghost, only to see she wasn’t showing herself right now. I wondered where they went, if they couldn’t go back to the spirit world or whatever.

We sat down in the meal hall, and I could practically feel the tension in the air. Students were nervously catching up to last minute work that needed to be submitted. Others were discussing final papers or final exams. Some of the students even were discussing the big football game that our team was playing in this week. It was surprising, considering how bad they were last year. They really turned things around, I guess. Overall, there was just a sense of unease filling the room today.

Maybe it was just my over heighted senses, but I was feeling a lot more spiritual presence as well. I’ve suspected for a while now that there was something going on…oh. Oh. OH.

My eyes widen as the thought hit me like a wrecking ball. Oozing walls. Doors locking themselves. People had reported many times that something bizarre or unexplained happened each time there had been a murder. I was sensing stronger spiritual presence, even more so than usual. None of the students had said anything so far, but I wasn’t sure who would really be able to pick up on that. But suddenly, her skeptical face flashed in my mind, and I knew who I needed to talk to.

Janna Kawada.

I didn’t even think about it before, when she had mentioned it to me, because my mind had been collecting so much information at the time that I buried it. But she saw Fiona. She saw her in the mirror. No one else had ever said as much, but that meant that either Janna could see them too or the spiritual powers were growing, and I just never noticed because this is what I was used to.

I had to speak with her. I needed to know. But where would she be? A third year Biochem student on the soccer team. She probably didn’t live on campus anymore, and practice was no longer going on. Crap. I needed to think. How would I be able to get in touch with her?

“Michael,” I said suddenly, turning to him.

He was holding his fork halfway to his mouth, noodles dangling from them, dripping sauce onto the plate. “Uh, yea’?”

“Do you happen to know when the Biochem lab is for the third years?”

Slowly he put his fork down, his expression puzzled. “Kinda. Why?”

“I need to speak to someone. Janna Kawada.”

“The one from the newspaper article?”

I nodded quickly. “The very one and the same. It’s super important. I’ll explain it later.”

Michael frowned in thought. “Right. I think there’s actually one that happens at 4:30 today, so if you stalk outside the building, you might be able to catch her. But if you don’t, those labs are usually four hours long.”

I glanced at the time on my phone and saw that it was only 2:18. Crap.

“Why do you have to talk to her?” Mags asked, drawing my attention to them. Crap. I forgot we were sitting together still. My mind had jumped way too far ahead there for a second.

My brain worked furiously as I came up with an excuse. Finally, one popped into my head, and I said, “I’m thinking of taking Chem next term as my science credit, and I might need a tutor for it.”

Mags looked skeptical. “Why not take an easier class? Human Bio is supposed to be a bird course.”

“I want to challenge myself,” I lied.

Mags looked at me for a long minute before shaking their head. “Whatever, you do you. I don’t care. I personally would take the easy option though.”

I just nodded in response, not being to say much else. I had a plan now, I needed to focus on that. Maybe I could talk to Dahlia before then? I bit my lip, thinking it through. She was never willing to tell who had killed all these people before, but it still might be worth it. Deciding it was, I picked up my bag and said goodbye to my two friends.

Quickly I made my way back to her tree. I plopped myself down and knocked on the tree. After a few minutes passed, I was worried that she wasn’t going to come. But I felt the shift in pressure as all sounds stopped around me. Dahlia appeared beside me, but something about her posture was different. She had her legs pulled up, her chin resting on her knees with the smallest of frowns on her lips. Dahlia looked younger and more vulnerable than I’ve ever seen her before. She gave me a side-eyed glance. “Yes?”

I shifted so I was shoulder to shoulder with her. “What going on with you? You seem down or something.”

Conflict played out behind her sea-green eyes before she gave me a small shake of her head.

“Are you sure?” I frowned.

“Always,” she drawled. “What is it that you need, darling?”

“Well…I just noticed recently the increase of spiritual power on campus,” I said slowly, judging her reaction. But as usual, it was nearly impossible to read. “And I was wondering if you maybe knew something about that.”

Dahlia stayed quiet for several seconds as she gathered her thoughts. Finally, she did a jerky nod. “I can’t say too much. But yes, you are correct. He’s gathering power for his next…target. But that’s all I can say.” She shifted so she could look at me fully. “Ally, there isn’t much time left. If you don’t hurry, someone else will die.” Her image flickered briefly, as if she was disappearing.

A dash of fear spiked in my system for a flash. I was running out of time? I didn’t understand, and there was something that was not letting Dahlia tell me. I thought I saw a shadow of a hand creeping onto her face.

I wanted to reach out and touch her, to comfort her but I knew I couldn’t. I placed my hand next to hers and stared into her eyes. “Listen, I will stop him. I know you can’t help me but thank you for trying anyway.”

Her image flickered again as she smiled at me. “Archives, Ally. Check them, your answers are there. Trust me when I tell you that. It’s going to be extremely dangerous, but I do believe in you. I believe in Lyndsey and Michael as well. Just be smart.” She flickered even more intensely now, nearly disappearing from view. Her eyes lit up with mischief as she said, “Salty silver witches hurt those who cannot write missives, Ally.” She disappeared after that. Of her own volition, I wasn’t sure.

I sat there, puzzled. What did that even mean?

XXX

Michael.

It was later that night when Ally came stumbling into the basement of the library. After she had gone off to do whatever it was, I hadn’t seen her for the rest of the day. After Lyn got out of her practice, she texted me saying that she was able to help with any research, but for once I think we were all stumped on our next move. So, I ended up telling her not to bother. She still showed up and ended up just working on her paper. She looked up over her laptop, staring at Ally in silent confusion. I was just as confused by her sudden arrival.

Ally gripped her phone tightly in her hand, her whole body shaking. With what, I wasn’t sure. Slowly, she sat down at out table. Lyn pulled her headphones off and reached over to place a hand on Ally’s forearm.

“Ally, you okay?” she asked, the concern noticeable in her tone.

Ally nodded. “I think I figured something out.”

I scootched my chair closer. “Like what?”

“I…” she took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds before slowly releasing it through her nose. The shaking stopped a little. “I spoke with Janna today, because I realized something. When I did my interview with her all those weeks ago, she told me she saw Fiona. It literally just came to me when I was thinking about the spiritual presences on campus feeling stronger. So, I did the stupid thing and asked her. I legit asked her if she could see the dead.” She stopped and took another deep breath.

“She said that she couldn’t. Not normally anyway. Michael, you said you could see her too, right?” I nodded and Ally continued. “Okay, so it is stronger. Stronger that other people can see it, which is why I think Dahlia was able to possess Lyn like she did, because she is already powerful as is, so it just increased her power. But it’s not all-around campus, it’s only at the Athletic Centre.”

“How come?” Lyn asked, her brow furrowed.

“Because…” Ally bit her lip, her face pale. “It was the last place someone was murdered.”

I tapped my hand against my knee, trying to keep my nerves in check. “What does that mean? Why does it matter it was the last place someone died?”

Ally pushed her glasses up her faces and pressed her hands to her eyes. “So, I spoke to the others before coming here. The others being the ghosts, that is. They all told me similar things.” She put her notebook on the table and pushed it forwards so we could read it. “Basically, each time someone had been murdered, the area where the last person had died some a sudden spike of energy. Jamieson said that he always hated having his class in Harper Hall because weird things happened all the time. Amelia was the last one to die, and she hated spending any time around the old art building, where it turns out there was another student who was killed there, but never reported on because it was considered an OD. Since Jamieson can’t leave the Student Centre, he didn’t notice the dark energy that surrounds the Athletic Centre, and he wasn’t aware that someone else had be killed.”

She sat back in her chair, the weariness on her face making her look older than 18. “So, the reason why you guys could see them when you normally couldn’t, is just that. But it gets worse, because Dahlia just went missing earlier. I can’t sense her at all. But, before she disappeared, she told me that the killer is gathering power for his next kill and that we’re running out of time. I’m not sure why he needs energy to kill, but if we think that he was the one who made Fredrik into the monster, he might be planning something similar.”

Lyn’s face looked like it was set in stone as she chewed on this information, while I continued to tap my hands against my knees. Ally sighed as she rubbed her face. “But I think if we can send Fredrik back, we can weaken the spiritual energy. That’s where Katherine comes in.”

“If she agrees,” I said quietly.

“If she does,” conceded Ally.

We stayed quiet for a minute, each of us thinking about different things. What if Katherine didn’t agree? I suppose we could always ask Talia, I’m sure she would help. But how much time did we have left? Not to joke in a serious situation, but I really hoped that he’d have the decency to kill before exams, so they were at least cancelled.

Lyn got up suddenly, as if she was possessed. Oh, maybe that wasn’t the right choice of words. Oh well. She said nothing to us as she headed for the staircase that led to the second floor of the basement. Ally and I shared a look before I shrugged. I wasn’t going to make the effort to go and see what she was getting up to.

XXX

Lyn.

I don’t know what possessed me, but I knew I needed to look in here.

The archives.

I was spending so much time looking up things online that I forgot about one thing: a lot of these old newspapers haven’t been put on the internet yet because someone had to do it manually. People were a lot of things but being paid a lame wage plus no motivation equalled someone not doing their job.

I knew the person who died in the ‘60s was Dahlia Cressman, because we had her old things in our home. My great grandpa had mentioned it a few times too. There was no point in looking into that, now that I’ve made that connection. But the opening of the school, that’s what I needed to know about. Ally had mentioned it a few times, but it wasn’t until now that something occurred to me. Dahlia had told her someone had died before the campus had opened. These things happened, unfortunately. Accidents happen at construction sites.

But what if that death was more than that? I went all the way into the back of the room, going to the oldest shelf. I gently pulled out boxes full of old news articles, flipping through them until I found what I was looking for: the article written about that day.

I gingerly opened the paper, being careful of where I laid it on the table. My eyes scanned through the garble of the paper until I found what I was looking for. The headline was still legible, reading Tragedy at New University Location.

What should have been a wonderful day ended in tragedy. During the nearly finished construction of the new University campus built in Yokeville, a disaster struck. 27-year-old Jeremiah Kinkly was found dead this morning, Tuesday June 12th. It was suspected that Kinkly was trying to sneak into the property, into the Kramer Hall building. This building had not been finished yet, and many pieces of scaffolding had been hung in place, not locked up. According to RCMP officer Lawrence, it looked as if the man fell to his death.

“His body was somewheres near the building, all mangled like,” said the young officer. “I got a call about a trespasser, and when I got here, I seen the body right away. I knew there was nothing I could do for him. Poor soul.”

Mr. Kinkly is survived by his mother, father, and pet dog.

The picture they had used for him looked exactly like the Drama professor. But that wasn’t the only thing I was looking for. I went back into the archives and shuffled through more of the boxes, knowing what it was I needed. The lights flickered dangerously overhead, which told me I was looking in the right spot after all. My heart picked up its pace when I found it. Quickly I read it over, just to be sure. I grinned in confirmation and headed back to the table. I picked up the newspaper and went back upstairs, where the other two where still sitting, looking just as tired as I felt. I put the paper on the table and pushed it towards them.

“Do you see the issue I see?”

Michael looked up with a frown. “What do you mean?”

I tapped at the end of the article, when Ally gasped. “Mother, father. No other family is mentioned. How is that possible? They must be related. They literally look like the same person…”

I dropped my other find on the table. “Look at this.”

Ally picked it up, her eyes widening as she got to the end of the article. Michael took it next and read through it a few times, his brow furrowed as he muttered, “This doesn’t make sense.”

“They’re the same person,” I said, crossing my arms. “Robert Kinkly claimed that he was related to the dead man when asked about after his hiring, but there were no other children, and the family seemingly didn’t have another child. Even if they did, Kinkly wouldn’t look as young as he did. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“But how…?” Ally’s voice was practically a whisper. “How is it that he died but he’s here now?”

Then Ally’s face paled as realization bloomed in her eyes. “He’s like them. He’s like the Moore siblings.”

Michael asked, “What does that mean?” as I sat down.

“They’re tangible. They can touch us and we can touch them.” Ally pulled over her notebook and started writing furiously. “I suspected the reason why they could be because they had turned into something evil. Was it because they had no family? Kinkly would fall into that category if that was the case, because his family may no longer be alive. But does that make him the killer?”

“The killings started happening once he got a job here, in the ‘70s,” I pointed out. “You said that Amelia didn’t like going to the art building, probably because someone had died there. What did she say about that?”

“That she always felt like there was someone watching her there,” said Ally. “Would it be worth it to try and talk to the ghost there? Maybe we can learn something.”

Michael ran his hands over his face as he mumbled, “We might as well.”

“Yeah, it’s not like it can get any more insane than this,” I said with a slight smirk.

Ally looked between us before nodding. “Alright, we’ll go for it tomorrow. I’m too tired tonight.”

“Blessed,” said Michael as he started tossing his things into his bag. “I really didn’t want to go tonight, no offence.”

“None taken.”

I packed up quickly too and followed them out. I made sure to say bye to Eileen as we left. I loved the little old lady and she always helped me out in first year. We walked with Michael all the way back to his res before I walked with Ally back to hers.

I wasn’t the most observant person on the planet, but I thought she seemed a little happier recently. A smile flickered across my face unbidden, and I looked up at the stars. They were hard to see through the light, the pollution, and the clouds, but they were fighting through. I always liked going camping in the summer and staring up at them, losing myself in them. It was one of the few things I liked as a teenager. It was a way for me to get away from all the drama at home.

Ally’s hands slipped into mine as she pressed herself against my side. I looked down at her and she was smiling up at me, her face pink from the cold. It was amazing that she could still smile through all of this. Her strength never ceased to amaze me. We were standing in front of Lukas but Ally didn’t seem to be in a rush to get inside. She probably would have stayed there for as long as possible, but I could already see she was starting to shiver. So, I bent down and kissed her, whispering good night in her ear. She kissed me back before heading inside, and I waved to her as I left.

I wasn’t sure why I went this way instead of heading back to MacGavin, but I found myself standing in front of the big tree. The one where Dahlia resides. I placed my hand on the bark, not able to feel the roughness because of my gloves. It was a strange feeling, knowing that someone I was related to had died here on this very campus. I didn’t feel a sense of sadness or anything, since I didn’t know anything about the chick, but still. It was a little unsettling, you know?

“Hey, um,” I felt my ears heating up, “I have no idea if you can hear me but thanks. I know I gave ya grief the other day for possessing me and shit, but you save our asses. Um…great grandpa never stopped missing you. I wish we had the chance to meet, because honestly you sound like a super cool lady. And thanks for helping Ally out, even if you can’t give her all the answers. I’m sure you have your reasons.” I let my hand drop to my side as I looked up at the branches, noticing for the first time that all the water had froze, creating a crystal-like appearance. It was gorgeous to look at. “Uh, yeah. That’s about it, I guess. It’d be awesome if you could help us one last time, but I guess you’re missing. I hope you’re okay. Well…bye, Dahlia.”

Did it feel super fucking weird to talk to a tree? Yes. Did it make any sense to me? Nope. But for whatever reason, I felt a little bit lighter as I walked back to my res.

XXX

Ally.

Next time I decide to solve murders of long dead people and go on spooky missions during the night, I’m doing it in a warmer season because I’m so sick of the cold at this point. It was only 8:00 at night but I was freezing.

I pushed open the doors of the art building, welcoming the warmth that blasted my face. The building was still open because there was a play going on for Drama. I had already seen it on a previous night because it was part of our grade to do so. I was here for a different reason tonight. To speak to one last ghost. Hopefully.

The music for the show was muffled but could still be heard through the doors. The two students in charge of the tickets were talking to each other to pass the time, paying me no attention, which was perfect. I didn’t want them to ask me any questions.

I quietly walked by their table as I felt my skin prickling. I looked up to see him sitting there, a young man sketching. I used the stairs to get up to the third level of the building, a decision I regretted almost immediately. Look, I’m not the most fit person, I’ll admit that, but I don’t think anyone on this planet could take multiple flights of stairs without getting tired. If they could, they probably weren’t human.

He was waiting for me when I finally made it to him, trying very hard to not wheeze. He had slicked back black hair and curious blue eyes. He gave me a wave and a small smile that I returned as I leaned over the balcony, looking down to the ground floor.

“You’re the one making waves around here, huh?” he asked, floating off so he was standing next to me.

“That’s me.”

He nodded, looking down as well. “You know you’re making a name for yourself in the spirit world, right? I usually don’t haunt here anymore, since I gave up hope a long time ago that anyone was going to bring that killer to justice, so when Dahlia told me about you, it was hard to believe. Yet, here you are.”

“Here I am,” I said softly. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my notebook and pen. I smiled at him as I waved it. “Mind if I ask you a few questions?”

“Go right ahead, young lady.”

“What’s your name?”

“David Lancaster,” he answered simply.

“If you don’t mind telling me, I would like to know how you died.”

“I don’t. I was here, working on my art project when I heard something strange. I decided to go check it out, because the banging wouldn’t stop. I ended going into the auditorium, that one over there,” he pointed at where the play was currently taking place. “Once I was inside, the doors slammed shut behind me and they wouldn’t budge. I knew about the emergency exit, so I wasn’t too scared yet, but I’d just seen Halloween with my girlfriend Sally, and I thought maybe it was my buddy Joe playing a prank on me. But as I got closer to the door, I felt this terrible chill just seep into my bones. I thought it was from the door since it led outside, but I was very wrong.

“Next thing I knew, I was frozen to the spot. I couldn’t move, no matter how hard I tried. Then I felt someone come up from behind me and jab me in the arm. I tried to get a good look at who it was, but I never saw his face, only heard his voice. He jabbed me again, and my vision went black. When I woke up, my body was lying on the ground and I wasn’t in it. I believe the coroner said I had OD’d. That hurt the most, since I never did a bad drug in my life. Just some weed, but most people my age had.” He scratched his chin before running his hand through his hair in thoughtful silence.

I put the pen down, surprised at how easy that fell off his tongue. I suppose being dead for nearly 50 years stopped you from being sensitive about your own demise. But listening to him, I was certain now that Kinkly was behind this. I asked if he saw the killer’s general height and hair colour, and when I showed him a picture his eyes widened a little.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered to himself. “I remember taking classes with Professor Kinkly. He told me I was his brightest star.”

“I think…” I took a deep breath in and steeled myself. “I think he was the one who killed you, David.”

David looked at me, his jaw slack with surprise and his eyes watery. He closed them and his body started to shake. I was confused when I realized he was laughing, and I took a step away from him. The laughter became echoing, as if there was more than one voice laughing with him. When he turned to look at me again, his eyes were gone, and the skin was melting off his bones. Fear spiked in my system as I stumbled away from him. I spirted to the staircase, trying to get away from him.

“I told you he was coming! He’s coming for you!” His voice followed me all the way down, and when I turned around to see if he was gone, I saw nothing. However, when I got to the bottom of the stairs, he jumped out in front of me, reaching for my face. I screamed in shock as I fell back.

His face had warped into something monstrous, with bloody saliva and sharp teeth. I whimpered as I tried to scoot away, but the only thing behind me was the stairs and they stopped me from going anywhere.

“You shouldn’t have stuck your nose where it didn’t belong, you stupid girl,” said the voice of Kinkly’s from David’s mouth. “If you had minded your own business, then I would have left you alone. But now? Now, I have to KILL YOU!” He roared in my face, raising a clawed hand.

I lifted my arms up in protection when something strange happened. His body froze and began to twist in an inhumanly way. He looked like someone possessed in a scary movie. One clear blue eye found mine and he said in the calming voice from earlier, “You need to get away, young lady.”

I’m not sure how David took his spirit form back, but I quickly scrambled away. There must have been a distortion of space in place, because no one was around. I was all alone here, stuck with the murderer who killed so many before me. I wasn’t sure how long David was going to be able to hold out for, and I didn’t want to stick around to find out.

I hear him howling behind me and I made a mad dash to the door. I slammed against the glass and pulled on them violently, but they wouldn’t budge. My panic levels were starting to rise to a dangerous level as I looked around for an escape from this hell space. My eyes were drawn to the other exit, back from where I came from. My pulse was pounding in my ears and in my head as I ran like crazy past David, who took a vicious swipe at me as I did. I managed to dodge out of the way, with only a nick in my jacket to show for it.

The sounds of galloping followed behind me as Beast David charged at me. I jumped out of the way as he flew by, taking a chunk of the floor with him. I winced as I hit the floor but ignored it for now as I scrambled back to my feet. I raced towards the exit and smashed my shoulder into it, and the door popped open with a hiss like a pop tab. I slammed it shut behind me and backed away. David slammed into the door but couldn’t make past it.

Students were leaving from the other side, blissfully unaware of the monster that was on the other side. David’s form melted as he disappeared, his haunting empty sockets being the last thing I saw.

A few students glanced my way as I stood there, breathing heavily. I winced as I took a step back, pain flaring like heat in my ribs. I must have landed on them funny when I jumped. I raked my fingers through my hair, trying hard to bring my heart rate down.

David’s voice had sounded so familiar to me, and now I know why. He was the one who warned me, back in the library. He warned me that someone was coming for me. How he did that, I wasn’t sure. But it was him.

Slowly, I made my way back to my dorm room. I quickly fired off a message in the ‘Spook Searchers’ group chat as I did, wanting to let the others know what happened. I was just about to slip my phone back in my pocket when I noticed that I had a notification on Messenger still. It was from someone who wasn’t considered a friend. Curious, I hit it open and saw that it was from Katherine Howard. I was a little unsure of who that was until I read the message.

7:52

Katherine:

listen I thought about it

come meet me at the shop and we’ll talk

bring your friends if you want to idc

Shoot, that a while ago. It was nearly 9 now. I sent back a reply saying I was coming now if that was okay. The little green dot saying she was online appeared, and the little meatballs showed up saying she was writing back. All she said was “yes,” so I gritted my teeth and walked briskly towards the store.

My ribs felt like they were stabbing me as I approached the store. I wiped at the sweat that starting to form on my forehead despite the cold weather. I was really, really, really getting sick of being hurt from these ghosts. If this kept up, I was going to need more serious stuff than just some Tylenol and Ibuprofen.

There was a single light on in the store as I got closer. I peeked through the window and jumped when the door swung open. Katherine hurried me in and quickly closed the door behind us, making sure it was locked. She directed me to follow her into the back where she sat on the counter and offered me the stool. I sat on it gingerly, watching her carefully.

Katherine was tugging on her hair, a nervous gesture from what I saw last time we spoke. It was tied back in a messy ponytail with pink tips, and I could see a hearing aid resting in her left ear. She had long nose and stunning green eyes that were watching me carefully as well. Her eyes darted to the door and back to me before she hunched her shoulders.

“Did no one else want to come?” she asked, moving her hands at the same time.

I shook my head. “I didn’t ask them, actually. I just got back from business and come over here.”

“Business?”

“The supernatural kind.”

She exhaled through pursed lips as she nodded. “Right. Well…I thought about what you asked of me.”

I waited for her to continue, but she just sat there and said nothing. I frowned and with an indication of my hand, I motioned her to continue.

Katherine sighed, dropping her hands to rest on the countertop. “What you’re asking of me is very dangerous. Like, stupidly dangerous. I thought long and hard about it, because it’s not just some decision I’m gonna make on the fly…but… I’ll help.”

My eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Really? How come?”

“Because, when I talked to my mom about it, she said it was the right thing for me to do,” Katherine huffed. “Whatever the hell that means. When I asked her why she couldn’t just do it, she said that she couldn’t anymore.”

I nodded slowly. “Okay…” I tried to shift, which was a bad idea. Closing my eyes, I focused on taking a deep breath through my nose. It actually made it worse.

“Are you alright?”

“Just a little sore,” I said through gritted teeth. “So, not to come off as rude, but are you actually a witch? I know Michael was a little blunt in his approach last time.”

Katherine’s face went slightly pink as she nodded. “Magic is real. My mom taught me all that she knows. But if you guys need me to do a banishment or exorcism or whatever, that’s a really heavy spell. I’m gonna be wiped out after that.”

“Good to know.” I stood up, not being able to withstand the discomfort anymore. “I’m sorry that I’ve put you in this position, but I’m really grateful that you’re helping us out. It means a lot to me.”

Katherine looked away. “Whatever. It’s the right thing to do. Someone shouldn’t suffer like that because the acts of another did that to them.”

My eyes must be playing tricks on me, because I thought I saw something flicker around Katherine’s head when she said that. But there was nothing there. I did still have that strange sense like I did last time, however. I wasn’t sure what it was about her, but there was something that was calling to me. It was very puzzling.

��Is that all you wanted to talk about?” I asked. “Because if it was, I’m going to head back to my room. I’ve got some stuff to catch up on.”

Katherine nodded and slipped off the desk with grace. She walked over to the door and glanced through the window before unlocking it. She glanced at me with her hand resting on the handle. “We’ll have to do it before the full moon next week, otherwise I’m worried this guy will be too much for me to handle. I’ll get a boost too, but I’m not risking my head for this.”

I thought back to our last full moon encounter with Fredrik and shuddered. “No complaints from me. Thanks so much, Katherine. I really mean it.”

“You’re welcome, sheesh,” she pulled the door open for me. “Be safe walking home… Uh, Ally?”

“Ally,” I confirmed with a smile.

“Right. Okay, well, I’ll message you when we should do. Might be in the next couple of days.”

“Okay, just let me know. Bye, and have a goodnight.”

“You too,” she said quietly. She watched me leave and walk a little up the street before ducking back inside and most likely locking the door again.

At least one good thing happened before the night ended. Knowing that we had someone who was willing to help us with our Fredrik problem was a way better ending than me nearly getting killed by David’s monster form. The stabbing pain in my ribs was now a dull throbbing, which might not be the best sign in the world. I just needed to get back to my room and take some meds before heading to bed. God, this semester couldn’t end fast enough if it wanted to.

#unnatural affairs #ua #ally holland #lyn hart #michael yamamoto #dahlia cressman #mags richard #ghosts #paranormal #romance #wlw romance #sapphic lead #murder mysteries #writing #orginal work #orginal writing #original story

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dsoe-masteroftheheavenlyyard · 4 years

Text

Chapter 2–Hunt for the Deadly Sins; Scene 3

master of the heavenly yard pages 18-28

It was currently nighttime, and there were no artificial lights anywhere in the desolate field they could rely on.

Even so, as there were no buildings to block the light of the moon it actually wasn’t all that hard to see.

--Just as Allen had been when he first came here, Nemesis seemed unable to believe the scenery before her.

“How…could this be? The Millennium Tree Forest was destroyed along with the rest of the world—no, it was burned down even earlier than that. So how…”

The trees were flourishing in abundance.

As though they had never been destroyed at all.

It was undoubtedly strange, considering everything they had seen up to arriving here was wasteland.

“There’s no cause for finding it so unusual, Nemesis. To put it in layman’s terms…These exist here under the same principles as that clinic did.”

Nemesis seemed to immediately understand when she heard Allen’s explanation

“The specialty clinic in the illusory Moscow that Levia Barisol created…I see. Thoughts can materialize in the Hellish Yard…In other words this too is an illusion created by souls—"

“You catch on quick. Not that I’d expect any less from the original ‘Master of the Hellish Yard’.”

“My…so you know that much, do you?”

Allen pointed up to the moon in the sky.

“I studied everything about this world inside the ‘Blackbox’ up there. So I understand most of what’s going on.”

“You studied ‘everything’ but you only understand ‘most’ of it?”

“I’m not as smart as you. That, and there are some things I couldn’t study with the black box.”

“Such as?”

“The gods call this world the ‘Third Period’. The black box taught me about events that occurred there. But…I wasn’t able to get much information on the world before, the ‘Second Period’ where the gods lived.”

“Assuming it was Sickle who created that ‘Blackbox’…That information was probably left out on purpose. Well, it sounds like something she’d do, anyway.”

“…?” Allen made a curious expression. “Is Sickle—a girl?”

“By my reconning at least.”

“I see…I always thought he was male. Well, at any rate, you would know more about the ‘Second Period’ than me.”

“And that’s why you brought me along on your journey.”

“There is that, and I also was wanting to borrow the connections you’ve built up over your long life. There’s a lot of souls on the ground world now that lived in the past. Naturally, a lot of them are people I’ve never met.” Allen looked back to the forest before them. “For example, the spirits that live in this forest. I didn’t even know they existed back when I was alive. However…That’s not the case with you.”

“The spirits—are still residing here in the forest?”

“Yeah. This forest itself was something they conjured up.”

Nemesis reached out to put a hand on a nearby tree branch.

Despite it being an illusion, she was able to touch it. It felt peculiarly rough…It certainly “existed”, but it gave across a somewhat strange sensation that felt unstable to her.

She noticed something moving at the edges of her vision, and turned toward it. A single fox was gazing at her, but the moment Nemesis saw it, it quickly hid itself in the shadow of the tree.

Phaser…

Nemesis remembered that fox’s name. She was certain it was one of the spirits that lived in the forest—or would it be more accurate to say “people”?

Whichever it was, she knew this one to have an affable personality. That they refused to come near in spite of that must be because she was in this form, Nemesis thought to herself.

I am…the one responsible for destroying the forest, after all.

Nemesis turned back to Allen.

“Is Michaela coming back here?”

Allen shook his head.

“If she’d intended to do so, she would have come along with us.”

“That’s true. So this forest is currently—”

“Being managed not by Michaela, but a proxy.”

In that next moment, they could hear someone’s voice from above their heads.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit harsh to treat me as a mere ‘proxy’, Allen?”

A single blue bird flew above them. It was the bird that had spoken just then.

“That voice, and that manner of speaking…Professor Held!?”

Nemesis’ eyes widened.

“If you’re calling me ‘Professor’, then…Your memory has come back.”

“Yeah, it’s all returned, thank you…Why do you look like that?”

“Various reasons. By all rights I was unable to materialize on the ground world due to my restrictions. As a result of tirelessly endeavoring to slip through a loophole in those rules, I wound up as this bluebird.” Held selected a branch on one of the trees and landed there. “By the way…What is it I ought to call you?”

“Nemesis is fine.”

“I see. Then, dictator Nemesis—you’re guilty of quite the horrendous deed, aren’t you? The reckless act of firing the weapon of mass destruction ‘Punishment’ at the world and bringing it to an end.”

Nemesis felt no fear at Held’s grave words.

“I don’t feel like apologizing for it. As you well know, that was my goal from the very start. You and Hazuki laid all sorts of groundwork to avoid it, but it looks like it that was all in vain.”

“You wished not for ‘management’ but ‘destruction’…So, as we feared, your mind was already infected with ‘malice’.”

“So what if it was? If you want to kill me you’re welcome to do so.”

“I have no intention of holding you responsible for that now. That wouldn’t bring the world back. …And besides, I’ve come to be increasingly less certain as I’ve watched you, Seth, and that girl Irina—all of you who have been reduced to ‘HER’s.”

“Less certain of what?”

“—Just what in the world ‘evil’ is.”

Nemesis was wordless for a moment at such an abstract question.

Allen silently listened to the two of them speak from the side. He wasn’t boorish enough to cut into an exchange between “gods”.

“…Evil is—” Finally Nemesis opened her mouth. “—Those who won’t obey the established ‘rules’. Those who disrupt order. That’s the basics of it, right?”

“Then what about Gallerian and Riliane’s case? They were the ones who created the ‘rules’, after all.”

“I said ‘rules’ to be brief, but there’s many applications of that. Rules of countries, rules of the court, personal rules, or…the rules of gods. Occasionally those contradict each other. In that case—the rules of the one who wins out in the end are taken as just.”

“So you’re saying that you aren’t ‘evil’.”

“Correct. I’m the winner.”

“…Is that really so? It’s true that you’re the sole living thing in the world. But…It’s still possible for the dead to kill the living.” Held looked up at the night sky. “If you wish to become the true ‘winner’…I would advise you do something about that.”

At that moment, Nemesis finally noticed it.

On the other end of Held’s gaze, floating high in the air, was a peculiar object illuminated by the light of the moon.

“That’s…it can’t be! What’s that doing here?!”

It was an enormous “black box”.

If Nemesis’ eyes weren’t deceiving her, that was without a doubt a “Blackbox”—a piece of technology from the Second Period.

“Is that an illusion someone conjured up too?”

“It can’t be. Who could think one up, given it didn’t exist in the Third Period?”

Upon hearing those words, Nemesis immediately turned to Allen.

“Nope, it wasn’t me.” Allen denied firmly, shaking his head and waving his hands. “And that ‘Blackbox’ looks a bit different in construction from the one I’m familiar with.”

There were several types of “Blackbox” that Nemesis knew about.

The one floating in the air just then was—

It’s unlike the Type E, as well as the Type L that I made. The closest I can think of is…the Type S!

The second edition device created by the physicist Seth Twiright.

That was the “Type S”.

But the Type S wasn’t loaded onto the spaceship “Climb One” that we’d been riding on. It shouldn’t be in this world—

And there Nemesis recalled an event in her past.

A battle between sorceresses that had occurred in Merrigod Plateau…That phrase that had been spoken by the Red Cat Sorceress.

…She had called the device that was installed in her chest cavity a “Blackbox Type S”. If that was a “Blackbox” that Seth made in this world—

If that “black box” up there was no illusion, but the real deal.

There was a chance that Seth had created it in secret.

Though I’d no inkling of him making such a thing while he was with me—or rather, Nemesis—at the very least. Perhaps when he was in the Hellish Yard before…But then, I can’t imagine Gumillia would have allowed it.

It might have been fastest for her to just ask Seth, but given that he wasn’t around at the moment she couldn’t do that either.

“How about we try getting close to it for now?”

Allen nodded at Nemesis’ suggestion. “That might be best.”

“We’ll just head to ‘Evils Theater’ later…”

“—It looks like we might not have to.”

Allen pointed above the “black box” in the air.

It would be more clearly visible if this were during the day, but…it appeared that something else was floating there.

Nemesis strained her eyes, trying to confirm what she was seeing.

And once she understood his response, she was shocked once again.

“…I don’t get any of this. How is a theater floating above the ‘Blackbox’?”

“I guess that looks bizarre to you too, huh?”

“I could say the same for the ‘Blackbox’, but…A heavy building like that floating in the air should be completely impossible under Third Period technology, at the very least. Even if it’s an illusion, it’s just completely uncalled for to deliberately have it floating in space. It’s like a child made it up.”

“…Surprisingly enough, that might be accurate.”

“…?”

“I mean that theater might be an illusion brought about by a child, or else someone with a child-like personality. In any case, we should probably go see it first.”

“Quite right.” Nemesis approached the blue bird that was sitting blasé on the tree branch. “With that, we’ll be leaving soon.”

“Hmph…You alright leaving without saying anything to your friends?”

“—They aren’t the ‘Climb One’ crewmembers anymore. They’ve lost their memories, and live in this world as spirits.”

“True…But there are exceptions. Those who have regained their former memories.”

Nemesis didn’t need to ask him who those “exceptions” were. She had a pretty good idea of who that applied to, and also knew that none of them were in this forest right then.

Rather, she had something else that she needed to ask him.

“One last thing…Professor Held. Why did you become the ‘Great Land God Held’?”

“…? What do you mean?”

“You were against us managing the new world. That was the reason why we wound up fighting each other. And yet despite that—”

“You can’t understand it. You’re wondering then what in the world were we fighting over.”

“—Yeah.”

“…It was the ‘Moon Goddess’s idea. I—no, none of us, could go against her. …Now then, I think you best be off.”

And at that, Held finally stopped talking completely.

It was as though he had turned into a mere bird, that would not reply no matter what Nemesis said.

“…Farewell, Professor Held.”

“…”

Nemesis reluctantly said goodbye to Held, and went to move on ahead with Allen.

<<prev------directory------next>>

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the-homicidediaries · 3 years

Text

Issei Sagawa

“Sometimes I wonder why I did such a horrible thing. Maybe it’s because I come from another planet, or another dimension and accidentally fell to Earth like a meteorite, disguised as a baby crying on the street. My mother walked by and took pity on me. I must have come from a place of cannibals, and I’m the only one of my kind who exists on this planet.”

Good afternoon, everyone who takes the time to read this!

Today, I have the very displeasure of telling you about one of the most.. bizarre human beings I have ever read about.

I have been interested in true crime ever since I could remember. My father is really interested in it as well, so growing up there were always books laying around about the worst of the worst kind of people. Even to this day, my dad and I share stories we heard or a new podcast we listened to or swap books; it’s real fun. And when you are heavily interested in true crime, you hear and see so many similar stories. This person had an abusive childhood and became a serial killer, this person was not longer interested in being a family man so he killed his whole family and moved away to start a new life, this person was strung out on drugs, this person caught her husband cheating on her and stabbed him as a crime of passion, etc. And while I am not downplaying or excusing these murders AT ALL, because no one should be murdered, I do find myself skipping stories like that. They don’t check my boxes.

Cannibals check my box. And I have, admittedly, unconsciously, been surrounding myself with cannibalistic aspects. I just finished (another) three part podcast about Jeffrey Dahmer, I’m reading My Friend Dahmer, and watching Attack on Titan like my life depends on it. (Attack on Titan is a Japanese manga series turned into a long running anime about three conjoined towns who are constantly being attacked and eaten by the HUGE human-like zombie creatures, but that is for another day.)

Have I rambled enough? Yes. Yes, I think so. Let’s get into ittttt.

Issei Sagawa, known as Pang or The Kobe Cannibal, was born on April 26th, 1949 in Kobe, Japan to a very wealthy family. Issei has said himself that his childhood was the happiest time of his life and he was a carefree child. He said his parents love him deeply. One thing to note about Issei is that he was born prematurely (and he looks.. off) and doctors did not think he would survive. Issei said because of this, he has always seen himself as an undesirable person. So, instead of friends, Issei had books! Because his family was so wealthy, Issei was afforded an incredible education and was able to travel all over the world and learn about music, art, literature, etc. He was very interested in art. This will come back around later.

So how does a rich, seemingly normal, intelligent child become a cannibal? Issei contributes a few things to this: *Issei said his first cannibalistic urge happened when he was in first grade and saw a fellow classmate’s thighs. *Issei said sex was a taboo subject around his household. He said when he had reached a certain age, he began having erections, like all boys do, but he thought he was sick and was too embarrassed to tell anyone. He didn’t know how to relieve himself at this time.. soooo. He, uh, got help from his dog. Yeah. Yeeeah. (I watched an interview he did with Vice about ten years ago, which I will link below, and watching him describe this so nonchalantly made me the most uncomfortable. Actually, he is nonchalant the entire interview and it’s so disturbing and uncomfy. At one point he says, “I think my sexual desires began to distort around that time.” Yeah, I would say so, buddy.) *Issei said he would have a reoccurring dream where he and his brother were being boiled in a large pot to be eaten. Issei said he flipped the script and began to fantasize about what it would be like to eat someone. As with most premeditated killers, his fantasies escalated from curiosity to behavior. *Issei was obsessed with western women. He said they are tall and beautiful and he has described himself as a “weak, ugly, and small man”. In an interview after what he keeps calling an “incident”, Issei claimed one of the reasons he consumed human flesh was to “absorb her energy”.

Issei said he did practice a good amount of restraint for his cannibalistic urges until his college years. While attending Wako University in Tokyo, Issei said he saw a beautiful, blonde, German woman walking by and he was “dazzled by her white thighs”. One day, he broke into this woman’s apartment on the ground floor. He said his plan was to hit her in the head with an umbrella so he could get a knife from her kitchen and cut into her buttocks and eat it. He was extremely hesitant and his knees accidentally brushed against her stomach, waking her up. She screamed and Issei fled. Police charged him with attempted rape. Issei said he did explain to psychiatrists about his sexual urges but they didn’t consider it cannibalism and let him go.

After this, Akira (his father) sent Issei to study comparative literature at Sorbonne University in France in 1981. In the interview, as Issei is recalling this, he said his mother had the an extremely sad look on her face the day he was leaving, “like she knew something horrible was going to happen”. (I could think of a reason why.)

Issei had not forgotten about how close he had gotten to fulfilling his fantasy of eating a European woman back in Tokyo. He was convinced if he was more prepared he could follow through with it flawlessly. He said when he moved to France, he would bring home a sex worker almost every night, but everytime he tried to shoot her, his fingers would freeze. While studying at Sorbonne University, Issei set his eyes on 25-year old Dutch student, Renée Hartevelt. Issei said Renée was so beautiful and he had never seen anyone like her before. (She really was stunning and looked like such a sweet person.) He also said he didn’t want to get caught staring at her, so he began making sketches of her. From what I read, and I do not know how accurate this is, the two started as friends and eventually Issei began to pursue Renée romantically. He would take her on dates to art museums and dinner. When he confessed his feelings for her, she insisted they just remain friends because she was not sexually attracted to him. So Issei lied to Renée and told her his professor wanted him to record some German poetry. Renée didn’t think anything about helping out a fellow classmate, so she was happy to come over and help. Issei said he picked out the poem she read, and as she was reading the poem out loud at his desk, he pulled a rifle out of a closet and shot her in the neck. He said she kept reciting the poem after he shot her, then she just.. stopped. Issei said he fainted after he shot her and when he came to he almost called an ambulance for her, but he knew he would regret it if he lost this opportunity to act out his fantasies.

I am going to quote Issei verbatim from his interview with Vice.

TRIGGER WARNING

“I lied to her that my professor wanted some German poetry recorded. That was the pretext. She didn’t doubt a thing. I chose the poetry. I reached for the gun while she was reading. I was talking to her with a smile on my face. I was really scared. Yet I did pull the trigger. She... kept on talking... until suddenly she fell silent. First she collapsed onto the desk, then fell to the ground with the chair. I laid a towel under her head then undressed her. I had everything planned out in my head from which part i would start feasting on and such. Starting with her ass. I thought it looked the most delicious. It had to be the right cheek, not the left. The left cheek is closer to the heart and I’m scared of blood. I abruptly bit into it, but it was too hard to bite into. It hurt my jaw. I tried cutting in with a fruit knife but it didn’t go through. I gave up and went to the market. I bought a curved meat knife. Finally it went through the flesh. I thought I’d see red meat right away, but there was a yellow corn-like substance, which I later found out was fat. I had to cut deeply to reach the red meat. I don’t remember if I sliced it off, or tore it off with my fingers. I put most of my favorite parts, like the thighs, in the fridge.”

My face right now.

He’s leaving out a lot of details on this.. right after he shot Renée, he had sex with her corpse. And, like I said before, he is so nonchalant about all of this. He ate a LOT of her. I saw a picture of eleven paper plates loaded with human flesh, muscles, and fat. Both of her breasts, her nose, her tongue, her bottom lip, and most of her lower half (her hips, middle of her stomach, and thighs) was missing. He did say he tried to eat her breast, but it was mostly fat and he didn’t enjoy it. Her buttocks, however, “(It) melted in my mouth like raw tuna in a sushi restaurant.” He continued to try different parts of Renée’s body. He would fry pieces of her and eat other parts with mustard. He even decapitated her. He took pictures of Renée’s mutilated body and would have sex with it while listening to the recording of her reading the German poem.

For four days.

He mentioned how June is the hottest month in Paris and he was worried the body would start to rot. So he took Renée’s body to the bathroom and cut her up so he could get rid of it. (He also mentioned after finishing his graduate program, he wanted to go to Greece. He said he took a big luxurious boat and actually shared a table with a butcher and his wife during dinner. He said the butcher was a fat, jolly man and told him how to butcher meat. Issei wrote a letter to the butcher after “the incident” thanking him. He said the butcher never wrote back.)

One he had cut the body up into pieces, he placed the pieces into two suitcases and, made plans to dump the body in a lake in Bois de Boulogne, called in a cab. “It wasn’t easy getting the body into [the suitcases]. The torso is extremely heavy. It’s really hard to cut to begin with. It’s nothing like a horror movie.” When the cab driver picked up Issei’s suitcases to put them in the cab, he asked Issei if he had a dead body in them. (That tidbit made me really sad.)

Once Issei reached the lake, he pushed the suitcases down the slope. He vastly underestimated how light it still was outside at 8 pm. He said several people were sunbathing still. The sun was setting across the lake, and Issei said for the first time, he saw color. He was fascinated watching a young boy and his grandfather at the top of a hill and while he was distracted, another man came up, opened one of the suitcases, and saw a bloody bedsheet with legs wrapped in it. A woman screamed and someone else yelled, “Murderer!” Issei said he just walked away.

Issei was, of course, arrested. He was interrogated by three psychiatrists who deemed him mentally insane. Issei was sent to a criminal psych ward, but before he could even begin treatment, he was deported back to Japan because the French people were very uncomfortable with him being there at their expense. Once Issei arrived back in Japan, he mentioned the hospital he was staying at didn’t conclude that he was mentally ill, just that he had a personality disorder. Issei was forced to leave the hospital without undergoing any treatment. He did not serve any time in prison for ungodly crimes he had committed. Actually, in a weird turn of events, he became a local celebrity. He became an author, had several interviews, has illustrated mangas (that’s why I mentioned he loves art), made porn, and was even a food critic. He even travelled to Canada, Mexico, and Iceland with two friends of him. I don’t have time to cover all of that because that in itself could be a whole other essay, but like I said, I will link the YouTube video I watched below.

And that is the gruesome, awful, gut wrenching story of Issei Sagawa.

Below are pictures of Issei Sagawa and his victim, Renée Hartevelt. I am also linking the Vice interview on YouTube as well as the crime scene photos. Please view at your own risk.

Thank you for reading. <3

Crime scene photos: https://murderpedia.org/male.S/s/sagawa-issei-photos-2.htm Vice Interview: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BosZxa1bYcE&t=336s

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