#he’s yet to admit he kinda wants to suck faces with the guy who threatens to violently tear him limb from limb

[acediaedeus]

I like the thought of Ichigo’s uncertainty about where he and Grimmjow now stand after TYBW.

he’s just wallowing in confusion, bc “what did it all mean??”. he doesn’t understand whether they’re allies now, or was it just temporary? could they become friends? are they going to have all those fights he promised Grimmjow? and Grimmjow is anything BUT confused, at least about the relationship he has with Kurosaki.

so in true asshole cat nature he hisses and scratches, he shouts and growls, but at the same time he follows Ichigo around whenever and wherever he sees him, he inches closer when they sit in Urahara’s shop, he’s even more tactile inside a fight and right after one, sometimes even with no fight at all. but, because he’s, as was previously mentioned, an asshole cat, an especially prideful one at that, he does it all while spitting venom left and right, what seems like seconds away from scratching Kurosaki’s eyes out.

Grimmjow finds his own behaviour embarrassing, bc “oh my god, I’m so obvious I might as well roll over in his lap and show my belly”. all the while Ichigo is a big orange question mark going “why does he hate me still?? :((“

everyone is exasperated, Urahara is on the brink of caving and meddling, but Yoruichi forbids him from doing so, because it’s hilarious to her.

one time Grimmjow was so uncharacteristically (in Ichigo’s opinion) peaceful and nice, nice to HIM(!!!!), that Ichigo pulls Urahara aside to ask if the arrancar has split personalities. Urahara just kind of stands there at first, then turns around without words and goes for a bottle of his strongest sake.

[blvckqwz]

Earth Kills

TWs: Angst, Death, Mentions of death

A/N: Hey guys, this chapter is kinda boring but I had so much fun writing the cave scene and the whole Y/N’s backstory was so hard to write because it’s LITERALLY PURE ANGST. Also I feel like all the characters are out of character in this chapter, I don’t know maybe it's because I've litterally wrote all of it tonight from 12 a.m. to 4 a.m. (So forgive me if there are any mistakes but I'm too tired to check for them again lol.) Well, tell me what you think!

The following nights weren’t as peaceful as the first one. Jasper’s moans were killing everyone in the camp. Some delinquents tried to threaten to kill him if he didn’t shut up, so Clarke decided that only a few people could get near him. Y/N spent all the past nights and days trying to help her to medicate Jasper's wounds but judging by his groans nothing changed from when they found him. 

“Hey, how is it going?” She asked the blonde, who was focused on applying a weird looking pomade on Jasper’s chest. “His pulse is three eighty.” She replied. 

Y/N didn't know if it was a good or a bad thing but judging by Clarke’s face it was bad. 

“I need clean water.” Clarke stated. “I’ll get it for you, don’t worry.” Y/N replied, not standing to be in that damn room for another minute. Clarke just nodded so Y/N exited the room without any other word. Things were still tense between them, she realized as she made her way out the drop ship. Her eyes started burning for the daylight and her head spinned like crazy. She really needed to sleep a few hours if she wanted to keep helping Jasper. Y/N sighed before taking a buck of water as she looked around, noticing that no one was asleep, probably due to Jasper’s groans. She was going to get back in the drop ship when she heard someone’s screams. She instantly dropped the buck and ran to the source of the screams. The screams were getting louder as she felt the panic rising in her chest. Maybe someone got hurt, she thought as she kept running, trying to find the screaming delinquent. She frantically turned around. Was she going insane and started to hear voices? Just as she was going to get back to the bucket, the person shot another loud scream, and this time it was clear that it came from the woods. Y/N started running again, this time faster, but the scene in front of her eyes made her stop in her tracks. 

It was just Charlotte who was having another nightmare, Y/N realized with a relieved sigh. “Hey, wake up. It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s just a dream.” Y/N tried to reassure her. Charlotte opened her tears filled eyes to look up at Y/N, who was staring back at her with a compassionate face. “What was it about?” She softly asked as she sat down next to her. “It’s… my parents. They were floated and they… and I see it in my dreams and I just…” Charlotte sobbed. 

Y/n felt guilt thinten in her throat. That child was too young, too innocente, to have nightmares about something this big. The fact that probably her father was the one who pushed the button that sucked the air out of those poor people’s throats just made it worse. 

“I get it. My mom got floated too when I was young.” she admitted. No one except Wells and Clarke knew that. And her father too, since he was the one who floated her. “Sometimes I get nightmares too, you know?” She continued. Charlotte was now staring at her with wide eyes. “It’s ok, it gets better as time passes.” She concluded, hugging her thigh. “How is that boy? The one that Clarke keeps in the dropship?” Charlotte asked. “He’ll recover. He his a fighter, we all are.” Y/N replied with a sad smile before looking up at the sky. The Ark was going to pay for what they did to them, she thought. “I probably should get back to work if we want to sleep next night.” She said, “Are you going to be okay by yourself?” Charlotte just nodded, looking away. It must be thought to be so little yet so alone, Y/N thought.

 “Hey, we’ll go hunting later, wanna join?” She asked. Charlotte looked up at her with a surprised smile, 

“But Bellamy said that only the strongest can go in the woods.” “You are strong Charlotte, stronger than those assholes. Plus we have knives and I have a bow if we meet something dangerous.” Y/N playfully said, “I’ll be right back ok? I just have to bring Clarke some water and check on Jasper, then we’ll go.” she concluded.

Ok!” Charlotte said with a huge smile before quickly hugging her “Thank you Y/N!” “No problem Charlotte.” She replied with a smile. 

Then she started walking towards the dropship, refilling the bucket that she dropped before. She could hear Jaspers moan from outside, she realized with a shiver. It was getting harder and harder to keep Jasper alive, she thought while she returned inside the drop ship. Immediately the smell of blood and alcohol filled her nose, making her want to throw up. She ignored the disgust and entered the room where Clarke was trying to save Jasper's life. “Hey, here’s the water.” She said, handing her the bucket. Clarke just nodded before wetting a cloth in it and putting it on Jasper’s forehead. “Press it here, it should cool his fever.” She instructed Y/N. Then she started working again on his wound, causing Jasper to let out a loud scream that made Y/N flinch a little. 

She hated hospitals and blood, she always has. Clarke instead was a natural doctor, causing everyone around her to be proud of the prodigy she was. 

Y/N used to be jealous of her talent, back when they were friends in the Ark and when everything was okay. She even learnt something about medicine too, nothing too hard, just how to apply bandages and how to recognize what was wrong with someone, just to not feel like a total failure as a daughter and as a human being in general. But of course it didn’t help. Nothing about Y/N was admirable, nor as a child nor as an adult.

However now she was glad to not be the one who operated on Jasper’s chest, just by watching Clarke’s hands covered in his blood she felt the urge to throw up. She watched Jasper as he contorted in agony and screamed again. She wasn’t exactly his friend but she really hoped that he’d heal soon because he seemed an amusing kid.

“Hey, what are you doing with him? Let him go!” A voice suddenly screamed. Octavia entered the room like a fury, Bellamy following her. 

She started to run to Jasper but Y/N stopped her.

“No Octavia stop! Clarke is saving him.” She screamed, her voice full of desperation, “She’s saving his life.”

Octavia watched the girl in front of her and for the first time she saw a human, not a death machine ready to rip everyone’s heads off. And that was enough to make her take a step back. 

But of course Bellamy didn't care, “She can’t, the kid is a lost cause.”

“Sorry if Jasper is an inconvenience to you but we aren’t on the Ark anymore, here every life matters and I can assure you that Clarke can save him.” Y/N replied, eyeing Clarke.

“We just have to remarginate his wound and to not make him bleed to death.” She explained, her eyes not leaving Jasper, who let out another loud groan. Immediately Y/N knelt next to him, trying to calm him down by putting the wet cloth on his forehead. 

Bellamy studied her unusual caring action as she brushed some of Jasper’s hairs away from his forehead,  before tearing his eyes away from her. Maybe she wasn’t a total basket case, he thought, maybe she just didn't like him. 

“He’s been like this for three days, if he doesn’t get better tomorrow, I’ll kill him myself.” He stated before turning to Octavia 

“Let's get out of here, this air is killing me.” He said to her. 

“No, I want to stay here with him.” she shot back. 

Bellamy just scoffed before walking out the drop ship. Just as he did Clarke let out a shaky breath and moved her hairs behind her ears. 

“Hey, take a break. We’ve got this.” Y/N softly spoke to her, eyeing Jasper who now was asleep. Clarke looked up at Y/N, surprised. “Okay I guess, just call me if he wakes up.” She said. Y/N just gave her a nod and a small smile before turning back at Jasper. 

Octavia watched cautionally Y/N as she cleaned Jasper’s sweaty face. She didn’t really understand her but it’s not like she hated her like the rest of the delinquents. She actually thought she was pretty cool, all thought she tried to hide her opinion in case Bellamy would find out. She couldn’t understand her behavior though. The way she snapped sometimes and the way her eyes burned with hate always made Octavia rethink if she was a good person or not. But she helped with her wound the other day and she seemed nice to her few friends, so she had a heart and feelings, she thought. And the way she was helping Jasper was too caring for a psychopath.

Octavia wanted to thank her for cleaning up her leg, which worked since she could walk much better now, but didn’t have the guts to do it. Maybe it was because Bellamy pretty much hated her or maybe it was because she seemed to be a lunatic sometimes, but Octavia was afraid that she would make things worse between her and Bellamy’s clique if she said something.

“Hey wanna switch?” Y/N broke the awkward silence between the two of them. 

Of course she noticed Octavia eyeing her but she didn't pay much attention to it, her mind already full of other thoughts. 

She was thinking about her talk to Charlotte about her parents and the way they died. She was trying to remember them, maybe she had seen them getting executed, she thought. 

She remembered almost everyone she watched dying by her father’s hands. Her dad was a cold hearted man, everyone knew it. He was always willing to do whatever it took to save humanity. 

But no one knew how harish he could be. No one except Y/N. He wasn’t really a bad father but in Y/N’s mind he was a coward. He did horrible things in the name of justice, he claimed. Thanks to his justice she grew up watching people die in front of her. “That’s why you must behave Y/N, because otherwise you’ll end up just like them.” She could still hear his father's voice as she silently cried while people begged for mercy. Yes some of them did really sick things but others just stole a blanket or some food for their sick childrens. 

She still remembered his face when he pushed the button that ended her mothers life. It was the only execution that he forbidden Y/n to see. But of course she did not obey. She wanted to see with her eyes how much of a coward her dad could be. 

But as he watched his face, she didn't see a coward, just a hurt man. 

The slightest relationship they had broke that day. She became more insufferable, more rebellious. And he became more strict and more distant. She liked to remind him how he killed her mother every time they had an argument and he felt his cold heart breaking every time he replied that she would die the same way if she didn’t learn to behave. 

“I wonder if you’ll push the button that kills me just like you did to mom. That would bring you more satisfaction than having me as a daughter ever did.” She always shot back, hiding the tears that pooled in the corners of her eyes. “Probably it would because that would mean that I did the right thing.” He always replied, trying to not sound as heartbroken as he was.

Y/N could still feel those tears trying to come out as she remembered her dad and how she sent her to die. He probably still thinks he did the right thing, she thought with a bittersweet smile. It’s not that she missed him, they didn’t ever stand each other, but she missed the way they could have been. She always felt jealous of Clarke or Wells for having such great dads. Clarke's father died so she could have a future and even though Wells’s father was the Chancellor, it was obvious to Y/N that he cared about his son, despite his title. 

So why didn’t her dad love her? Maybe she was the problem, maybe she was the reason her father hated her so much. 

It would've made sense, Y/N thought, since there wasn’t exactly someone who cared about her. But it was okay, because like she already said she didn’t care about anyone either. 

But then she looked down at Jasper and she thought about Clarke or Wells or Charlotte, and she realized that it wasn’t true, that she did care about some people. 

And that was what scared her the most. 

Octavia's eyes studying her snapped her out of her trance. She had to get out of that room, she thought, the small room was getting too small for her likings. 

“Hey wanna switch?” She asked her.

“Are you sure?” Octavia replied reluctantly. 

“Of course”, Y/N replied, “Here.” She said, handing her the wet cloth. 

Octavia studied her for a few seconds before accepting the cloth. She could’ve sworn that she saw Y/N almost crying while she watched her before, but it was probably just the lighting. The second she took the cloth Y/N jumped up, walking towards the door. “Where are you going?” Octavia asked. 

“I’ve got stuff to do. Plus this room smells really bad.” She said, stopping for a second at the doorway, “Tell Clarke that I’m with Charlotte if she needs help.” She added.

“Okay.” Octavia replied, “Thanks for helping me the other day by the way.” She said as she turned around. But Y/N was already gone.

“I was starting to think you ditched me.” Charlotte said as she watched Y/N make her way towards her. “Over a hospital room with a dying oy? No thank you." Y/N said, “So, are you ready for our adventure?” She asked with a smile. Charlotte enthusiastically nodded, causing Y/N to laugh. 

Then they started to move towards the woods, looking for something to hunt. Not that Y/N expected to find something, she just wanted to entertain Charlotte. The only thing that they found were some berries, which were poisonous, as Y/N explained to Charlotte. 

“You see, you can recognize if something is poisonous or not based on its color and form. For example, white, yellow and green berries are usually poisonous. Sometimes the poisonous berries have bright colors like bright red, but sometimes they could be edible. That's why it’s important to learn the different types of berries.” Y/N explained as they kept walking in the deep forest. 

Charlotte carefully listened to her, truly enchanted by Y/N’s knowledge. She wasn’t old enough to attend Earth Skills on the Ark so Y/N was her only source of information. Plus it was nice to walk around the forest without being afraid of grounders or dangerous animals. “And what are those?” Charlotte asked the older delinquent. 

“I think you’ve found wild strawberries.” Y/N announced with a proud smile. “You can eat them if you want.” She said before putting one in her mouth. Charlotte looked at the girl and once she understood that they were safe she started eating them voraciously. 

Damn, she was so hungry, she realized as the delicious fruits met her mouth. 

“You want some?” She asked Y/N, with her mouth still stuffed. “No thank you kid, I’ve already eaten.” She replied. It was a lie, but Charlotte needed food more than she did, Y/N thought.  They kept walking for a while but then they saw a wild boar running away from something. The sounds of loud footsteps made both the girls freeze in panic as they hid behind a tree. Y/N drew the knife from her belt and covered Charlotte's mouth, who was crying. 

“I’ll be right back.” She whispered to the young girl before skeaking out of her hiding place. She was gripping the knife so hard that her kunickle were white and she was sweating as she tried to reach the footsteps but a noise made her turn around to the tree where Charlotte was standing a second ago. 

She was gone, Y/N realized. Fear started to grow inside of her, if that kid got hurt in any way she wouldn't be able to forgive herself. She quickly ran to the tree, trying to find Charlotte. But she wasn’t anywhere. 

The sound of voices made Y/N turn around and before she could even realize it she was running towards them. She didn't care that it was a dumb plan, she needed to find Charlotte more than anything. When she saw a glimpse of her blonde hair she started running even faster, fearing that the voices might reach them faster than she could. 

“Charlotte!” She steamed, grabbing her arm and pulling her away from the axe that flew just a couple of centimeters away from her head and hit the tree behind them. Y/N nocked an arrow before stepping out from behind the tree where she and Charlotte were standing and the little girl followed her.. 

“What the fuck just happened?” A boy asked. Y/N immediately retired, her back resting against the tree. 

“There was someone running.” She heard a too familiar voice reply. It was Bellamy and his dumb minions, she recognized with an annoyed sigh. They almost got killed by those assholes, she thought. Y/N turned to Charlotte to ask her if she was ok, but she realized that she was still standing in the middle of the trees. 

“Who the hell are you?” Bellamy asked her. 

“I’m C-Charlotte.” The poor girl replied. “What are you doing out here? I almost killed you.” The boy replied. “She’s with me.” Y/N said with a sigh, walking towards them. “Great.” He murmured under his breath. “Well she shouldn’t be here, This place it’s dangerous for a little girl and you know it.” He replied “I’m not little.” Charlotte hissed. A proud smile flashed on Y/N’s lips as she watched the girl in front of her finally standing up for herself. Bellamy shot Y/n a confused look before she replied, “You heard her, she’s not little. Plus we need food and you are too loud, could hear you from meters away.” She said.

“Whatever, bring her back to the camp.” He replied, clearly annoyed. 

“No, I want to stay.” Charlotte replied, eyeing Y/N, who nodded in approval at her. 

“Fine.” He huffed, “Ever killed something before, Charlotte?” He asked with a smirk. Charlotte just nodded while Y/N rolled her eyes, 

“So she can’t step out of the camp but you are okay with her killing something?” She asked in disbelief. “Since like you said she’s not little she can help us hunt.” He replied with a victorious grin, “Got any problem with it?”

But before she could even answer a loud horn echoed in the forest. The delinquents exchanged confused looks. “What the hell was that?” A boy asked. “Maybe it was just the wind…” Bellamy said, clearly not believing his own words. “Are you stupid? Wind doesn’t sound like that.” Y/N replied with a scoff. “Yeah? Since when are you an expert?” “It doesn’t take an expert to state that that sound wasn’t fucking wind.” The two of them were too focused on arguing to realize that the forest was now deadly silent. “Hey, look!” someone pointed at something coming from afar. It was fog, yellow fog. Y/N looked around, there wasn’t any animal around them. Then she looked up and saw birds flying in the opposite direction. “Something isn’t right…” She murmured. “What do you mean?” Bellamy asked her but she didn’t answer him. Instead she made a step forward the strange fog, gesturing to Charlotte to stay with Bellamy and the others. She cautiously pulled a hand towards the haze but when she finally touched it her fingers started burning like crazy. It wasn’t just normal fog, it was acid fog. “Run! The fog it’s toxic!” She screamed before running towards Charlotte, grabbing her by the arm, “We have to go Charlotte! Let’s go now!” She yelled as Charlotte was standing still, clearly paralyzed. “Kane, we have to run away!” Bellamy screamed at her from afar. “She can’t move!” She screamed back, looking at Charlotte, who was frozen in fear. “Charlotte we have to go! The fog will kill you.” She kept repeating to the younger girl, holding her arms and shaking her. But her eyes were absent, she was clearly too afraid to understand anything. Suddenly she saw a pair of arms grab the girl. Y/N turned around just to see Bellamy lifting the girl up. “Let’s go!” He screamed at her. She just nodded as they kept running. “In here.” She yelled, pointing at a cave ahead of them. Bellamy shoved Charlotte in it before moving away, allowing Y/N to enter the cave. “Hey, where are you going?” She asked him. “I have to make sure they are okay.” He spoke firmly, all thought his eyes were full of fear. “No you can’t. The fog will kill you.” She said. 

Normally she wouldn’t care much, but he just saved her and Charlotte’s life so she felt obligated to save his. “I’m sure they are fine.” She added. “What if they aren’t?” He asked, still looking at the fog who was reaching them. “It doesn’t matter, getting yourself killed won’t help them.” She spoke as she watched him in the eyes. They both knew she was right. Bellamy sighed before following Y/N. Charlotte sobs broke the silence. Immediately Y/n hurried to her, kneeling so she could check if she had got hurt in any way, “Charlotte, what’s wrong? The fog got you? Did you get hurt?” She asked, looking for any bruise on her small hands and arms. “I’m sorry Y/N, I’m sorry but I couldn’t move.” She kept sobbing, “I’m so sorry that you almost got killed because of me.”

“It’s okay, I’m okay. I didn’t get hurt. We are fine.” She kept reassuring her. “Get some sleep ‘mkay? We'll probably have to stay here for a while.” She spoke. Charlotte nodded before shivering. She was cold, Y/N realized.

“Here.” She said, handing her her jacket. “T-thank you.” She responded softly. 

Bellamy awkwardly watched the two girls. Perfect, he thought, I’m stuck in a fucking cave with the psychotic bitch and her little clone. That’s how he explained the uncomfortable feeling growing in his chest. 

He didn’t know why he did it, why he saved Charlotte and consequently Y/N too. Maybe he was afraid to return with two corpses or maybe it was because Charlotte was too young to die that way. It didn’t matter tho, Bellamy thought, not anymore.

Now he was obligated to spend time with one of the people who hated him the most, he realized as he watched Y/N sharpening her arrows with her knife. A shiver ran down his back as he sat down on the opposite wall of the cave. 

His eyes shifted to Charlotte, who was now sleeping near Y/N with her head resting against the cold stone. It was getting colder, he thought. His eyes landed again on Y/N, who didn’t have her jacket and was probably freezing. 

Should he do a chivalry thing and give her his jacket? He asked himself. Maybe not, after all they weren’t exactly on good terms. Plus the girl in front of her surely wasn’t a damsel in distress, he thought. 

He studied her face, which was now contorted in a focussed expression. She had some dirt on her left cheek and her hairs were slightly curled, instead of straight like the day they landed. She had a bruise covering her chin, probably from the fight with Murphy. 

He still couldn’t comprehend how she beat him up as he watched the girl in front of him. She surely was more skilled than he thought, he said to himself as he watched her sharpening the arrows. He wondered when and how she learnt that. 

He rested his head against the wall while he watched her hands moving too fast for him to understand what she was doing. 

Charlotte moved in her sleep, causing Y/N to stop whatever she was doing to look at the young girl, her face completely morphing from a cold face to a caring one. When she understood that the kid was fine she returned to her cold expressionless face and started sharpening the arrows again. 

Bellamy still couldn’t help but wonder why Y/N cared so much for the little girl. Maybe it was because it was almost mathematic that the girl would die if she was alone, but something told him that it wasn’t the only reason.

A chough interrupted his thoughts, his eyes met Y/N’s who looked at him with a confused and slightly annoyed look. Damn, he got caught staring, he realized. 

He didn’t want to argue with her again, and Y/N seemed calm for once, which was weird. 

“Thank you for saving Charlotte’s life early by the way.” She said, studying him. 

The truth was that she didn’t understand why he did it, considering that by saving her he left one of his friends behind. She was grateful to him for saving them of course, but why was he keeping saving her life and then putting it in danger? It was starting to get on her nerves since there wasn’t really any way to pay him back except stopping him from killing himself early. 

She met his eyes aging, noticing that he was studying her back and causing her to shiver. He surely was an asshole and she hated him most of the time but he had to admit that he was rather actactive, especially without his stupid grin. She immediately shut that thought down. 

The close space was getting into her, she thought.

“And thank you for not making me jump in the fog. That wouldn’t have been a nice way to die.” He said with a cruckle. 

He was nervous, he realized. Nervous of what? He asked himself. She wasn’t going to kill him, it wouldn’t make sense. Maybe it’s because you are stuck in a relatively small room with a pretty girl, a small voice in his brain suggested. 

No way, he replied to himself. He slept with almost half of the girls in the camp, why would he get flustered just for being in the same place as a girl.

 And she wasn’t an ordinary girl, it was Y/N Kane, which isn’t pretty, he said to himself. Okay maybe she was objectively pretty, but not his type, he ascertained. Plus she was annoying and bossy and was part of the privileged. 

But as he met her eyes he couldn’t help but still feel a little nervous.

It was the close space, he stated to himself.

An awkward silence fell on the two delinquents as they kept studying each other, neither of them had the guts to speak up but that didn’t stop them from staring at each other. Charlotte shifted again in her sleep so Y/N focussed her attention on her instead. Thank god, Bellamy thought with a sigh. Y/N’s gaze was making him feel agitated, he thought as he let out another sigh. He had to get out of her room as quickly as possible, he realized. Y/N’s presence was tensing him up, and he couldn’t show it. He didn’t want her to get strange ideas.

Y/N was thinking the same thing as she returned to her place after checking on Charlotte. He was making her nervous, and she didn’t like being nervous. She decided that the situation wasn’t bearable anymore as she spoke, “When do you think we’ll be able to get out?” 

Bellamy was caught by surprise by Y/N’s words, but he was glad she was speaking because he couldn’t spend one more second with that awkward silence. 

“I don’t know, I don’t even know if it’s dark outside or not.” He said, “Probably it is since I can’t see anything.” He realized. 

Damn, they spent an entire afternoon in silence.

“Here.” Y/N said to him before making something roll over him.He caught the thing, which he happily realized was a torch. He turned it on, finally seeing things properly. Then he put it in the middle of the room, illuminating it whole. “It’s even smaller than I realized.” he spoke, looking around. 

“God I hate closed spaces.” Y/N said. “That’s something we can agree on.” He replied with a smile. 

It got easier from there. Y/N returned on her arrows and Bellamy returned to study her, this time more subtly. Now that there was light he could see her face properly. And it wasn’t such an awful view, he realized surprised. Her big eyes had dark circles around them and she was a little too pale, clearly she didn’t eat much since they landed, but she was still pretty, he thought. Still totally not his type by the way, but pretty. He watched her hands as they tied to laces together to make a string and she noticed that the knuckles of her left hand were bruised while the right hand was resting in her pocket. Weird, he thought. Why would someone use just one? Then it clicked. She burned her hand in the fog early, he realized. She kept it hidden for so long too. 

“Hey did you hurt?” He asked before he could even realize it. “Huh?” She replied confused. 

“Your hand. I thought that maybe you had hurt it before since you touched the fog.”

“It’s just a scratch, don’t worry.” She brushed it off. Normally she would’ve just told him to fuck off but she didn’t want to fight. She could feel his eyes staring at her before he said, “Here.” And handed her a small bottle of water, “Clean it up.” 

She murmured a thank you before ripping off a small piece of her shirt and poured some water on it. She hissed in pain as the water met her burned skin but tried to keep it as low as possible, not wanting to make a scene. Unfortunately for her Bellamy had an attentive ear and heard her. He immediately shifted by her side. “Can I take a look?” He cautionally asked. Maybe they weren’t biting their head off for once, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t snap at him. Y/N looked at him carefully before nodding. Bellamy gently took her hand in his, trying to not hurt her, as he examined it. It was red and probably hurt really bad but nothing too serious. “So, what’s the diagnosis doctor?” She asked with a smirk. 

“I think we’ll have to cut it off.” He replied, before tearing a strip of his jacket and carefully bandaging her hand with it. A shiver ran down his spine as their fingers briefly touched. 

“Thank you.” She softly said. It was the first time that she spoke in that way to him, usually she just yelled. He turned around, resting his back against the cold wall.

“Why are you actually being nice to me?” She suddenly asked. The question made him twist his head to look at her, but her eyes were focussed on the arrow in front of her. “I don’t know.” He admitted, “I just don’t want to spend the whole night arguing I guess.” He said. He didn’t know if it was actually the truth though. 

He knew that she was the enemy and that she hated him, but he surprisingly found her company not totally unwanted for the first time. 

“Why are you nice to me?” He asked back. “I guess for the same reason as you. Plus you saved my life twice so I’m kinda it owe to you.” She explained, “Don’t get used to it though.” She then said with a smirk.

 “I won’t.” He softly answered. Deep down he knew that friends were a luxury that he couldn’t afford if he wanted to escape his crime, especially with the Vice-Chancellor daughter. But it was nice to pretend that everything stopped just for a night.

“Are you tired?” He asked, but Y/N didn’t answer him. When he turned around to face her he realized that she was already asleep. He stopped a second, admiring her features before turning off the lights and trying to get some sleep too.

A high-pitched scream woke Bellamy up just as he finally was falling asleep. He opened his eyes and turned around, meeting Charlotte wide’s ones. “Hey what happened?” He asked her. Charlotte just murmured an apology as she uncomfortably shifted. The boy looked over to Y/N, who was still sleeping and he didn’t have the guts to wake her up, leaving him to do the babysitter duty alone. “Does it happen often?” He whispered to the young girl as he sat near to her. She just nodded. “You have to slay your demons kid…” He started to explain.

The morning came pretty fast and with that Bellamy’s annoying personality. “Kane get up. We have to go.” He said to the girl as he shook her shoulder. “Shut the hell up.” She murmured before finally getting up. Things got back to normal, they both realized as they made their way out the cave. Charlotte kept clinging to Y/N’s arm, probably afraid that the fog would return but lucky the forest seemed okay. 

The rest of the delinquents got out of their caves too. All except Atom. Y/N and Bellamy exchanged worried glances as they kept looking for him but no one could find him. 

Suddenly a loud scream filled the forest. Y/N ran towards the scream afraid of what could’ve happened. But nothing could have prepared her for the horrifying scene that her eyes met.

Charlotte was staring at a figure on the ground. It was Atom. And he was clearly badly injured. Y/N hurried over Charlotte, “Go back to the camp. Now.” She spoke. The delinquents started to gather around the limp body and as Y/N looked up she met Bellamy’s eyes. He was destroyed, she realized as she watched him looking at his friend. “Everybody go back to the camp!” She yelled. As the group left another group walked towards them. It was Clarke with Wells and Finn. 

“What happened?” The blonde asked in disbelief. 

“The fog got him.” Bellamy said with glossy eyes. Clarke then turned to Y/N who was examining the body. “Y/N? Is he going to make it?” She asked, panicking. The girl looked at Bellamy before meeting Clarke’s eyes and shaking her head. “K-kill m-me, ple…ase.” Atom breathed out. 

Clarke knelt next to him, pulling out a knife, but her hands were shaking too hard to precisely slit his throat. “I’ll do it.” Y/N said softly, “Bring her to the camp.” She said to Finn, who just nodded. 

Then she turned to Atom, who kept panting. “I’m going to help you, ok?” She said, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. Atom just nodded as Y/N pulled the blade closer to his throat. And then she pierced his throat, killing him instantly. 

She did it again. She killed someone again.

Bellamy watched the girl as she ended his friend’s life. He could never do that, he realized. Not after what he did to the Chancellor. He couldn’t kill another person. 

Atom was dead now, lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood. It was his fault, he thought. He should’ve kept him safe. He should’ve protected him but he failed. He was a failure and now his friend is dead because of him. He watched Y/N, who was now blankly staring at the corpse in front of her. That was his fault too. She didn’t deserve to be traumatized just because he was a coward who couldn’t even mercy-kill. He watched as the girl suddenly got up and rushed towards the camp. He wanted to thank her but he wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do.

Y/N was going to puke as she watched her hands covered in Atoms blood. She saw Clarke trying to approach her but she simply walked away. She finally got to the water as she started to scrub off the blood from her hands. She killed someone. She ended a life. Again. After everything that happened she did it again. She felt nauseous as she climbed up her tree, not wanting to be bothered. She started to cry silently like she did for all those years. “Oh God forgive me… please forgive me…” She kept murmuring as she watched her hands. They were clean but there still was blood under her nails. Y/N hurried down just to puke as soon as she reached the forest. She fell down her knees, her head in her hands, 

“What the fuck is wrong with me.” She kept crying. It was the first time she cried in a really long time but it didn’t make her feel any better. 

After a solid hour spent crying in the woods she got back to the camp. 

“Hey Y/N are you ok?” Wells asked her with concern.

 “Yeah yeah I’m fine.” She lied, “What’s up?” She asked the boy. 

“You can’t believe what just happened.” He spoke happily. 

“You dug a grave?” Y/N confusedly asked. 

“No, better.” Wells replied full of enthusiasm, “Clarke knows! She figured out everything!” He finally answered. 

“Wow Wells, that’s awesome.” She said with a sad smile. 

“Y/N what’s wrong? You’re the one who insisted that Clarke needed to know the truth.” He asked with a worried look on his face. 

“No I… I just had a rough day, that’s it.” She said, eyeing at her hands still partially covered in blood. 

Wells followed her eyes before saying, “Oh my God, I’m so sorry I forgot about it.” He said, truly apologizing, “Hey wanna come taking a walk with me? I’m next on watch.” He explained. 

“No thanks Wells, I think I’ll try to sleep a little.” She said with a small smile. 

“Oh okay…. Goodnight then Y/N.” He waved at her. “ ‘Night.” She said before climbing up her tree again. 

Her eyes started to burn again as she watched the sky. It was going to be a long night, she realized with a shaky breath.

[chibi-pix]

Chibi watches V3D 02

Heyo, my lovelies! Another night of watching Voltron: The Third Dimension! And unlike yesterday, where I watched the episode TWICE, I just watched this one once and kept pausing it to take my notes. Made it a little easier on me. So, without further ado, let's go!

Episode two, and I still don’t trust Zarkon. And that glorified calculator is annoying. His idea of maintaining peace sucks. Damn shame Keith wants to follow his orders despite KNOWING that calculator is wrong about how to handle things. Though it is amusing that Lance practically ghosted Keith and ignored his call.

Coran mentioning that Lance’s village was destroyed by Lotor and Zarkon threw me for a loop. Was that mentioned in DotU? I actually can’t recall. And Zarkon’s timing for dropping in. Somehow that’s expected? Yet amusing. I still don’t trust him, even if he amuses me.

“I know it’s still hard for you to think of me as one of the good guys.” Good news, Zarkon, I don’t think of you as a good guy. You know why? THE LACK OF TRUST! And I don’t think that lack of trust has anything to do with the potential of me seeing this as a kid. Because I don’t know how things go and if I did see it, I don’t remember. But that lack of trust? Guys, I’m almost thirty. I’ve spent most of my life watching cartoons. This ain’t my first rodeo.

Zarkon bringing out the CD with some sort of data on it, though, is amusing. I mean, I know CDs. I REMEMBER CDs. I actually still use CDs at times. But it definitely shows how dated this show is and I love it.

Keith finishing the list of components that Lotor needs, he just sounds so done with Zarkon’s shit.

“These kids are doing the best they can.” I mean. I probably would’ve said the same thing. But I’m amused at Zarkon practically calling the pilots as kids. Only Pidge is probably still a kid. Five years later? I think he’s seventeen. Last I checked, seventeen’s still a kid.

I’m with Hunk on not expecting Zarkon as a minister of peace.

I love Lance calling Red “Kitty Cat”. It’s adorable.

Why is watching Lance plug Red in to fuel up so hilarious?

Who the hell are these pirate dudes? “Gotta get out of here while there’s still a here to get out of.” Little dialogue moments like this are brilliant and fun. Seeing the pirates dance their little victory dance is amusingly adorable, though. Even if their victory was short lived.

Okay, so, another moment of Chibi feeling dated. Lance speaking and a box showing up with his face in it as the lion flew on the rest of the screen, I am once again reminded of my days of playing Star Fox on the Super Nintendo. And it amuses me. I’ll be honest, so far, this show isn’t perfect (I mean, no Voltron show is perfect, they all have their flaws), but it’s amusing, and I like some of how they do the images and showing stuff. It’s intriguing and kinda takes me back.

“It’s a lion! I mean, it’s a space ship! I mean… I don’t know! Just shoot it!” I mean, she’s not wrong on any of that. At least she got over the panic enough to get them to shoot at the lion. Though. I’m gonna cheer for Lance still. Even if he announces his attacks. Yup. Welcome to the 90s of cheesy dialogue and attack shouts. But it’s fun. And classic.

“You better quit biting us!” “Yeah, or we’ll tell Commander Doom!” Not very threatening.

“Wow! We scared him off!” “Yeah, must be your naturally repulsive personality.” Oof. Burn. Gotta admit, I’m loving the burns in this show.

Ooh, ancient archives seems interesting. And showing the yellow lion to be in a sort of Sphinx-like structure is an interesting touch. A bit on the nose and obvious to enemies flying over, but interesting nonetheless.

The glyphs down in the archives being connected to the lions is intriguing.

Watching Lance fight, I did not expect a cannon to pop out of Red’s back. Unexpected, but definitely nifty.

“But a system is only as good as the guy running it. Which in your case means it stinks.” I mean. Lance ain’t wrong. Hopefully.

“We’ll see about that, Lion Boy.” Lotor, creativity skipped a generation, didn’t it? Or a lot of them. Can’t even come up with a good insult?

Lotor laughing sounds even more like Tim Curry than just the voice. Seriously. I can’t unhear Tim Curry.

Also. Oof on Lance being captured.

Hah! Lotor giving no fucks and ready to get the lions out and help Lance. Good on you, Princess! Don’t disobey those hearts! Screw the calculator’s orders!

Also, seeing them go to their lions. I just noticed how small the cockpits are. Wowza. That is cramped. But, it is nice seeing all the lions launch.

“Who dares fire upon my command ship?” The lions of Voltron, bitch! That’s who! Get wrecked!

Ooooooh. Maximus or whatever that guard bot was called. Intriguing that it’s being turned into a robeast. But, at least they’re not wasting too much time to form Voltron. Though seeing them as Voltron. It’s like someone just took a Voltron toy and was working with it in stop motion almost. It’s amusing. But it was probably skilled stuff for CGI in that era. So, no judgment. Just amusement.

Did Lotor just say “dream dimension”? Huh. I'm a little interested in finding out what this is.

Well then. Here we go! I survived yet another episode of V3D!

Anyway, I hope y'all enjoyed this one. Until next time!

[aimless-imagines-for-fun]

Need

Pairing :: Clark Kent x short/petite fem!Reader

Warnings :: 18+ Content, NSFW/SMUT, Slight Size Kink

Word Count :: 1,328

Summary :: A little make out session between you and Clark gets heated and this time, you two get to go all the way.

A/N :: It’s been roooough. I needed something a little mindless to write to help me.

Maybe I’ll write a part two, idk.

Clark had been with a few women(despite the crowds that threw themselves onto him when he wore a certain red cape) and wasn't a stranger to what happened in the bedroom. After he started dating you though, you always managed to turn his brain to mush. You turned him on like it was as easy as flipping a switch.

If you gave him a quick hug it was fine, but if you or he prolonged it Clark would start to notice the clear height difference. He'd think about how easily he could sweep you off your feet and throw you over his shoulder.

When you whispered into his ears, he'd tense up trying his hardest not to hold you against him. If your lips brushed against his earlobe, his hand would shoot out after yours before quickly apologizing.

While watching you take a quick nap at either of your places after a long day of work, he'd watch your chest rise with each breath. He wondered how you would look pinned down, squirming beneath him

Despite how much you turned him on, he was afraid of losing himself with you. Clark always had to hold back and was pretty good at it. However, with the effect you had on him he was worried he wouldn't be able to and break you.

You weren't blind to how hesitant the reporter was to be intimate. Respecting his boundaries, you chose not to question or push him. Clark was the kindest guy you'd ever met. You didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

It was a bit disappointing each time he pulled away right as it was starting to get hot between you two. You wanted to beg him for more but could never bring yourself to do it. 

What would he think? You were about to find out.

-

You snuggled into Clark’s hold, the two of you seated on the couch watching a movie in his apartment. You held the hand of the arm that was wrapped around you, a small smile on your face.

The movie playing was ‘Roman Holiday’, one of your personal favorites. The scenery was beautiful, the story amazing, and you had a teeny weeny crush on the male lead. 

The movie ended, Clark turned off the tv. You two remained on the couch though.

“So Joe was your first childhood crush?” Clark asked, referring to Gregory Peck’s character.

You nodded. “Yup! You gotta admit, it’s kinda funny how my first childhood crush was a reporter, and now I’m dating a reporter.”

He let out a chuckle. “Who do you like more though?”

“Hmm… I don’t know, that’s a tough question,” You teased.

“Oh? And why’s that?”

“You’re both nice-”

“He was going to exploit her.”

“But he did the right thing and didn’t. Both amazing reporters, and good-looking.” You let out a dramatic sigh. “I can’t decide. You’re both great.”

You looked up at him, giving him a shrug. Clark raised a brow.

“Well, I know something I can give you that he can’t.”

“What?”

Clark leaned in, softly pressing his lips against yours. You smiled into the kiss, placing a hand on his cheek to hold his face close. He nibbled lightly on your bottom lip. Your lips happily parted allowing his tongue entrance. 

Lost in the kiss, you somehow found yourself straddling Clark’s hips. He had one hand wrapped around your waist and the other on your thigh. You still had a hand on his cheek, and your other hand wrapped around his neck, starting to play with the curls of hair on the back of his head.

Both needing air, you pulled away momentarily. You started peppering kisses along his jawline, soon finding your way down to his neck. As you softly bit and sucked little patches of skin, you could slowly feel his body tense up beneath you. His hold on your thigh tightened for a moment. He pulled you closer into his chest.

With the skirt of your dress pushed up so you could sit on his lap, you could easily feel something large begin to harden beneath you. In response, your body grew warm and panties dampen.

His bulge got bigger, pressing firmly against your clothed core. Without thinking, you started grinding your hips against him slowly, still kissing his neck.

“(Y-Y/N),” He panted out.

“Clark,” You moaned softly.

You kept rocking your hips against him, your slow pace slowly growing. You shifted a bit, but it was just enough to start rubbing your clit against his denim-covered erection. Breath now hot, focused on your own pleasure, you stopped kissing Clark. Your face buried into the crook of his neck, letting him clearly hear all the soft noises you were making.

Clark’s grip on your thigh tightened again, but this time it seemed more like a warning. “(Y/N), wait…”

You looked up at him with dilated pupils, cheeks lightly flushed. “Please Clark,” You begged, “I need this. Please.”

Clark mentally cursed, hips bucking up. You let out another moan. He had never heard you make these noises before. So aroused by the scene playing out before him, he could no longer hold back.

Letting go of your thigh, he pulled your lips into another kiss, one far more passionate and needing than he had ever given you. 

Your panties were now fully soaked, a wet patch being created on Clark’s pants.

He pulled away from the kiss for a second only to tell you one word, “Up.”

You lifted your hips without hesitation. He started working on his pants, opening them up in a few seconds and releasing his fully erect member. Without warning, he ripped your panties clean off, causing you to yelp.

You were about to give him a small complaint until you felt his head poking your entrance. He pushed in the tip, you moaned into the kiss. 

Slowly, he started to lower you onto his cock, but the more he pushed in the more you worried he wasn’t going to fit. He was so big. You could feel yourself being spread apart by him, a painful pleasurable feeling. You were trembling.

By how you gripped his hair, he knew you needed a moment to adjust to his size. He tried to give you your time, though when your cunt tightened around him, he let out a groan and pushed in more.

Eventually, he managed to put his full length in you. You bit your lip, holding back the tears threatening to fall out. You felt like he was splitting you in two. In hopes of easing the pain, you moved a hand down to start rubbing your clit. 

The pleasure from that distracted you enough to start moving yourself up and down on him. Clark wrapped his arms around you, helping you move until you began bouncing in his lap.

You stopped rubbing your clit, gripping his shirt with both hands. Your breath was fast, clearly close to your release.

Then, Clark began thrusting up into you, pulling you down with each bounce trying to hit you harder. Your lips were parted, moaning his name.

Hot breaths of pleasure were leaving Clark. His jaw clenching as you tightened around him. He could feel his cock start throbbing inside of you, eager to finally unload in you.

“Ngh! Ah!” You gasped, shuddering around him.

You stopped bouncing momentarily, feeling yourself cum around him, hot juices pouring out.

Clark wasn’t done yet. You wrapped your arms around his neck, panting while you continued to bounce on his dick.

It didn’t take long after feeling you tighten and the release around him for Clark to cum. His hold on you was tight, forcing you still to feel each hot spurt of cum in you.

With a heavy breath, you were finally able to fall into his chest. He brushed some hair out of your face before stroking your hair.

“I hope you don’t think we’re done.”

[yunoysl]

𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 (𝐥.𝐦𝐡)

Mark is made aware that the 00 liners think you, his girlfriend, are hot.

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: breast/nipple play, fingering, unprotected sex, exhibitionist, hair pulling, small degradation, creampie, slightly rough sex

When the 00 line admitted to Mark when they were drunk that they find you hot, at first he got kinda jealous and upset, but then he got the sudden idea of doing it with you in front of them.

The next day after that he called you and told you what they admitted to him. You were very shocked when you found out. You had been friends with them since before you and Mark started dating. You never saw them that type of way.

Mark forgot about it until two weeks later when you called him and asked if movie night was still on. He said yes, of course, when he realized he could take notice of how they react to you—even told you to wear a skirt instead did your usual sweatpants. Mark didn’t tell you his plan, but he knew you wouldn’t be opposed to it.

When you arrived you were thankfully wearing an oversized hoodie—his to be specific and most likely not wearing anything underneath it—and Mark’s favorite skirt that just barely covered your ass.

“Hi Y/N” they greated you once they saw you.

“Hi guys. You excited for movie night?”

“Always”

He took notice of the way they stared at you when you were bent over grabbing a drink from the fridge, you being completely unaware of the lustful stares you were getting.

“What movie are we watching today” you took a seat on the couch, the 00 line crowding around you to sit down. Renjun and Haechan sitting on the floor, Jeno on the reclining chair, and Jaemin on the couch next to you and Mark.

In the middle of the movie, you feel Mark’s cold hands slip under your shirt. You don’t think anything of it, this isn’t something new he’s done, but then his hand starts moving up towards your breast

“Mark...” you look to the side to see Jeno is looking at you, watching Mark start to play with your breast. “Jeno’s watching”

“Let him, put on a show for him to enjoy” he pulls your bra down, your bare nipples brushing against the fabric of your—his—hoodie. He takes your right breasts into his hands, fondling with it under your hoodie. Mark’s cold hand has you shivering. After a while he finishes playing with your breasts to pinch your nipples, taking turns with each one, his free hand reaching down to your skirt, pushing your underwear aside to feel your wet pussy. You whimper as he’s rubs your clit, when you suddenly remember that you’re not alone.

You look up to see all of them—Haechan, Jeno, Jaemin and Renjun—looking at you and Mark. You don’t even bother to let Mark know that there’s an audience, too occupied with one of his hands pinching and pulling your nipples and the other playing with your pussy, your arousal gathering on them.

Jeno is in a trance watching you both, Renjun is trying to watching the movie in front of him and not the much more interesting scene happening in the room, and Jaemin and Haechan are grabbing their crotches, feeling themselves harden.

Mark dips his head down to take one of your nipples into his mouth, watching as the 00 line get turned on watching you both.

“Do you want them watching you? If you’re uncomfortable we can stop-“

“No- no umm... I want this. I’m okay with this” You make eye contact with them to assure that they’re okay watching.

They are.

Mark slips two fingers into your wet pussy—easily sliding in—as he sucks on your nipples, taking turns giving both of them the much needed attention they needed. His fingers curl to find your g-spot, making you bite your lip to stop your moans from escaping. You close your legs around his hand, but that didn’t stop Mark.

“You’re so cute, crying to conceal your moans” he leans into your ear, “let them hear you. Let them know that only I can make you feel this way” you see as Jaemin and Haechan have pulled their cocks out of their pants, tips angry and red as they thrusts their hands up and down their members. Jeno is trying desperately to look anywhere but you and Renjun is still trying to focus on the movie, but the imprint in his sweats give it away.

Mark is scissoring his fingers inside you when you finally come undone on his fingers, your nails digging into his arm as you do. You watch with heavy eyes as he takes his fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean.

He pushes you down into the couch, your ass in the air as he enters you, his cock sinking deep into you as you manage to fit all of him in one go. Your whimpering into the couch cushion as he delivers hard thrusts into you, almost knocking the air out of you.

You look to the side when you hear moans to see all of the 00 line’s pants gone, no longer trying to be quiet and their cocks out as they touch themselves, very turned on at the sight of Mark ruining you.

The movie long forgotten by now.

You feel so good and full, and you’re also enjoying the attention you’re getting from the 00 line, the view of them pleasuring themselves to you making you clench around Mark.

Mark manhandles you and pulls your hair to use it as leverage to you up into his chest. He fucks you from behind, the 00 liners watching as Mark fucks you into next week, his cock hitting you in all the right places. He pushes you back down into the couch and holds your hands behind your back, pushing you into the perfect arch as he pounds into you harder and faster.

“You’re so wet. So pretty” you whine from the feeling of his hand having a right grip on your hip, delivering thrusts that almost have you passing out and seeing stars.

“You’re clenching me so hard. Does having an audience turn you on? Are you such a slut that having people watch you makes you wetter?” He rolls his hips into you, thrusting into you until the only thing escaping your mouth are the cries of his name.

“I’m gonna-“ tears threaten to fall from your eyes.

“Come for me. Let them know who can have you screaming like this” You’re so lost in the feeling of his cock you don’t notice you already came around him.

Your pussy clenches around Mark as he fucks you deeper, chasing his own orgasm, “Fuck!” He groaned finally cumming inside you.

The 00 line also follows right after, their cum shooting onto the floor and their bodies, making a mess around them.

Mark pulls out of you and pulls you into his chest as his cum leaks onto his thighs. “Did you enjoy that”

“More than I thought I would” Mark laughs at that.

You look to see the 00 line cleaning up before heading to their rooms, their faces slightly red at the embarrassment they were feeling. You and Mark laugh at them, hoping to have it happen again as that was the best sex you’ve both had yet.

[buckyownsmylife]

Animal of the Night - Tom Hardy smut

The one where you decided to tempt Tom by wearing a sexy Venom costume.

Warnings: smut, jealousy, possessiveness, daddy kink, oral sex (m), spanking, dirty talk, name-calling, choking

Word count: 3.1k

A/N: this was requested by the lovely @jbreenr​ a while back and it’s finally here 😎

Tom’s P.O.V.

I’d been casually watching the door, waiting for her to arrive like it was no big deal, but it absolutely was. I’d been dying to see her ever since filming wrapped, but because there was still so much to be done until I could go back home and she was knees deep in some work herself, we’d agreed that we’d meet at this off-season Halloween party one of our friends was throwing. Even though I much preferred to be locked inside a room with her all night.

“Hey, man! What you’ve been up to?” I got distracted as the host of the night finally approached me to make some light conversation. It had been a while since we had the opportunity to chat - I’d been spending all my time in the city at her apartment or mine, consequently ignoring our group of friends as I’d much rather be buried deep inside of her, but I had to admit that I did miss the guys.

Not enough to stop me from wishing I was alone with her, though.

“Yeah, sorry I’ve been so absent. You know… work. What have you been up to?” I accepted the beer he was offering as well as the hug, throwing one last glance at the door before turning my body to fully concentrate on him.

“Just the usual. Work hard and play hard. Not a lot going on at the moment.” I nodded, taking a swig of the beer before I realized I should probably ask about the rest of the gang.

“What about everyone else? Is something different going on?” Tyler seemed to think for a moment - it’s never too easy to come up with stuff to talk about when put at the spot, I should know that - but then his eyebrows shot up and a big smile opened on his face, clear indications that he had thought of something interesting.

“Yeah! I don’t know if you’ve heard this already, I know you two are kinda close, but with you being away… Apparently, Y/N has a boyfriend.” My heart sank to the bottom of my stomach at that, panic clawing my insides and begging me to start yelling.

How could she start dating and not tell me about it? Sure, she was free to find a boyfriend, what we had wasn’t exactly official, and consequently, not exclusive, but I thought I deserved at least some update when she found someone to replace me.

The thought of her being with anyone else burned me to the core, and I held the bottle of beer so tightly I was surprised it didn’t break. Grinding my teeth so Tyler wouldn’t realize there was something wrong, I asked as monotonously as I could, “Oh, really? Who’s the guy?” But all I got was a shrug.

“We don’t know, she hasn’t introduced him to anyone yet. We just assume that’s the case because she’s been skipping all of our meetings but when she does come, she giggles at her phone all the time.”

She used to do that with me. When we were all out and I’d text her something I couldn’t say out loud. I always found it adorable, and the idea of her giggling for someone else’s stupid jokes almost made me puke on the spot.

“It’s no wonder she’s been keeping him hidden, really,” Tyler continued, completely oblivious to what I was going through. “She always did like the bad boy types.”

That comment made me frown, thinking back on her exes. In all the time that we had known each other, she had only had a handful of boyfriends - but maybe those were just the ones she introduced me to. The only thing that they seemed to have in common was their absolute inability to treat her how she deserved to be treated, so while I didn’t necessarily think that she had a type, if there was one way to define them, it would definitely be as “bad”.

“Mind if I join you, boys?” A seductive and familiar voice came from behind me, instinctively making me stand up straighter before turning around.

“Oh, fuck…” I heard Tyler comment at the same time that I took in her costume, my eyebrows shooting up as he continued, “You look fucking hot!” and I spilled out, “What the hell are you wearing?”

Y/N frowned, looking down at her own clothing like she had honestly forgotten what it was that she was dressed into - a sexy, slutty version of my venom character, barely recognizable with the lack of fabric.

“I’m venom!” She excitedly exclaimed, looking up at me again with a huge grin. “I thought you’d be the first to recognize it. What kind of an actor are you, really?”

Tyler chuckled behind us, but I could only focus on the woman looking up at me, provoking all sort of conflicting feelings to course through my body. There was jealousy and longing, desire and possessiveness. All I knew was that I needed to get her in a secluded environment in the next five minutes, or I would publicly explode.

“Come here with me, will ya?” I took her by the elbow, effortlessly moving us through the crowd of our drunk friends until I found an empty room I could shove her in, paying no attention to Tyler’s low whistle as we left him behind.

Once the door was safely closed, I turned around to stare down at her, really taking in her outfit. “I thought you knew better than to tease me like this,” I chastised, clicking my tongue as a smirk painted my lips at seeing her shiver when my voice dropped. Boyfriend or no boyfriend, I could still pull a reaction from her.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“We have quite a lot of things to discuss, little girl…” I bit my lower lip in an attempt to reel myself in and remain motionless, instead of just jumping on the man I was so desperate to feel up.

It’d been way too fucking long. Any time apart from Tom was already hard on me, but ever since we started fucking, any night I had to spend without his gorgeous body hovering over mine was particularly painful to me.

Which is why I decided to wear this “sexy” Venom costume. Even though he offered to meet me back in my place, I knew he missed his friends - our friends - and this way, we could get everything we wanted.

I just had to make his resolve crack so he’d pull me into the nearest bedroom and bang me five ways into tomorrow, and later we’d rejoin the party and mingle again.

By the way my night had been going, I could see I was very close to getting what I wanted.

Tilting my head to the side, the picture-perfect idea of the innocent little girl he always liked to treat me as, I asked, “What’s wrong, daddy?”

Tom’s reaction was… surprising. His mouth fell open, his fists curled and he stood there watching me until suddenly he was all over me, pulling me to stand on my tiptoes so our lips could connect.

I moaned into the kiss, briefly forgetting about his odd behavior as the familiar taste of him invaded my mouth. “God, you’re so fucking sexy,” he groaned when we parted, leaving me almost dizzy with desire as I rapidly blinked a few times to be able to focus on him once more.

“What would your boyfriend think about you being locked up in a bedroom with me, wearing this, huh, sweetheart?” And now I was back to confused. What the hell was he talking about?

“Boyfriend?” I asked, pushing him away just enough to look him in the eye. Tom’s expression was inscrutable as he stared down at me with that fire in his eyes that never failed to make me shiver.

“Yes, boyfriend. Tyler told me all about it,” he commented, shrugging as if it was no big deal, yet his fingers pressed tightly against my hips, keeping me close to him. The anger was clear in every single one of his features.

I could read between the lines. I knew Tom like the back of my hand, through the years of friendship and now… whatever the hell this was. The hint of possessiveness was there, just threatening to take over, and my God was I desperate to see how it would play out.

“What did Tyler say?” I asked, looking up at him from under my eyelashes as I tried not to let my smile grow, so he wouldn’t catch up onto what was happening earlier than I wanted him to.

“That you’ve been skipping outings and whenever you do go, you’re always staring at your phone and giggling.” I bit my lip so I wouldn’t giggle right then, turning away from him in the hopes of hiding my expression.

When I turned around once more, his eyebrows were raised. It was clear he wanted an explanation, so I cleared my throat and tried to speak as seriously as I was able to do at that moment.

“Oh, right…” I didn’t deny it, fiddling with some random knick knacks on the bedside table. “You mean… like I do when I’m talking to you?”

Looking at him over my shoulder, I watched as realization suddenly hit, and that’s when I couldn’t control myself anymore. I dropped to my knees before him, mouth watering just at the prospect of having that delicious cock of his deep in my throat, filling my mouth.

A beautiful blush spread over his chest as he panted over me, a sign of just how affected he was, with his lustful eyes watching my every movement when I started to suck on his member.

“What about the costume?” He asked, making me giggle when I pulled back to answer, but kept my hands working his cock, keeping him hard and ready for me.

“I just wanted to tempt you.” A growl escaped his chest, making me even wetter just as he reached for my hair and pulled me back to my feet.

“You should have reconsidered if you wanted my dick anywhere near you.” I whined when I realized what he meant. Even though I loved his punishments, I was aching for his cock, and he was right - I wanted it now. So maybe I should have thought twice before looking for this slutty venom costume just so I could rile him up. “Now I’m gonna have to spank the shit out of you.”

He bent me over the bed, pushing the cheap fabric of my clothing to my stomach and exposing my naked pussy to his gaze. “You’re such a whore,” he chuckled when he realized I had forgone any type of underwear, and I found myself rubbing my thighs to get some relief from hearing him call me names.

Should I feel bad that it got me so hot? Oh, well. There was really nothing I could do about it except hope he would take care of me eventually.

Tom’s P.O.V.

Witnessing her pleasure in being humiliated like this only added to my frustration. She really was the perfect woman for me, but instead of ravishing her like I wished I could do, I’d have to entertain myself with her delectable ass, all ‘cause she decided to behave like a slut to catch my attention.

“You look so delicious, darling,” I teased her by running my fingers over her pussy lips, gathering some of the nectar already threatening to spill from there. “It’s a shame you misbehaved.”

I let my hand fall over her right cheek then, startling her so I could hear her yelp. I knew she got off on the pain - it was another thing that I loved about her - but it wouldn’t be half as fun if she didn’t pretend this truly was a punishment, huh?

“Can’t reward that kind of teasing,” I kept admonishing her, slowly inserting a finger into her hole, frustrating the both of us further just so I could have her trembling in anticipation, trying to guess what type of touch I’d grant her next.

But I needed to get this show on the road so I could fuck her properly, so abandoning all type of play, I laid slap after slap on her ass, watching it bounce back after each spank, hearing her moans before they were drowned by the sounds of the party downstairs.

“Daddy!” She moaned, clinging to my thigh, making me even harder inside my jeans. She really did love getting her ass spanked, and I loved her ass, so I’d take any opportunity to get my hands on it.

“You know how long I’ve been dreaming of burying myself deep inside this pussy, little girl? Do you?” I snarled, hearing her whimpers like they were music to my ears. “And then you pull shit like this, and how the fuck am I supposed to keep myself together long enough to tame your bratty ass?”

Her thighs began to tremble, fingernails biting on the skin of my thigh. I knew what this meant, so I immediately stopped spanking her, pulling her by her hair so I could whisper in her ear, “I know you’re a whore, but no cumming before I have my dick inside of you, got it?”

She cried out at the authoritative tone in my voice, but I knew her well enough by now to know that she wasn’t done testing me yet. “You can’t control my orgasm,” she dared to fight me. “You don’t own me. I’m not yours.”

I clutched her throat, cutting off her air so I wouldn’t have to listen to any more of her shit.

“Shut. Up.” Her eyes were wide when I threw her on the bed, pulling her by the ankles so her legs were dangling off of it, keeping her on her stomach as I unbuckled my belt.

“You’re such a fucking brat,” I complained as I climbed up her body and forced her legs open as wide as they could go, considering the position, and slid home. I knew it wouldn’t hurt her because she was already dripping, but I also knew she’d feel the stretch from being without me for so long.

Call me sentimental, but I didn’t feel like I had to ask to know she hadn’t been with anyone else, considering our previous conversation.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“You didn’t say shit like that when I had you over my lap, screaming for your daddy, huh?” He taunted, hand pulling on my hair once more as the other held my hips down, granting him the leverage he needed to fuck me against the mattress. “Or when I fucked you so hard that you couldn’t walk without feeling me for a week.”

That was a fun day. Memories of our last time together rushed through me, adding to my arousal, especially once I remembered how smug he was when I told him about my difficulties to walk during our weekly calls.

It was good to know he’d thought about it so much that it still lived in his mind, all those months later.

“Should have known I’ve owned you ever since I shoved my cock inside this tight little pussy, sweetheart.” I shivered when he whispered the warning against my ear, voice low and seductive like that night he took me in a bar’s bathroom before taking me home. It’d been the culmination of years of sexual frustration and dirty dreams, and I still thought about it every time I had to get myself off.

“How did you think this would go?” He questioned, incredulity clear in his tone. “Did you think you could fuck me until you were tired and then I’d let you go find a little boy toy you could control? Oh, no, darling.”

“There’s no going back anymore, little girl.” The threat had me coming around him, eyes rolling to the back of my head as the entire moment became too much for my poor hungry body to handle.

I’d always been known for biting off more than I could chew, but honestly, I’d rather die than waste the opportunity to be owned like this by Tom fucking Hardy.

“I’m not gonna leave this pussy, sweetheart,” he continued, like he was honestly telling me something that I didn’t want to happen. “Ever.” To drive his point home, he kept fucking me through my orgasm, pulling on my hair as my moans became whimpers and my hands bunched up the sheets of a stranger’s bed.

“It’s mine now.” With that, he pulled me back enough that he could meet my gaze, allowing me to witness him panting with his own pleasure, eyes darkened as he took in how my body folded to abide by his wishes. “You’re mine,” he announced, such firmness in his tone that any doubt that could have lived inside of me instantly disappeared.

I knew this wasn’t just dirty talk anymore. He was telling me the truth - he was warning me of a fact, now. My body belonged to him.

Still, I guess even he needed to be reassured from time to time, because the next thing to fall from his lips was a plead, “Tell me that you want me.” His cock kept plunging in and out of my cavern, caressing my oversensitive walls in that way I loved so much. “Say that you are mine.”

I didn’t even hesitate before granting him exactly what he wanted.

“I’m yours, daddy, all yours!” I cried out, entire body trembling underneath his,  desperate to make sure he heard me so he wouldn’t keep me away from my second orgasm of the night. “Oh, God!” I pleaded, fucking myself back against him. “Please don’t stop, daddy! Please!

Tom’s P.O.V.

“I’m not gonna stop, darling,” I assured her, hands caressing her back in an effort to calm her down. “Not until I feel you clenching around me.” A groan escaped me when I felt her do just that, and I didn’t know if it was on purpose or if another orgasm had hit her.

“Why would I ever stop fucking you?” I was babbling now, I knew - delirious with my own pleasure, trying to get her to cum one last time before me so she could milk my orgasm in that way only she knew how. “Best fucking pussy I ever fucked, would never leave you if I could.”

A strangled cry escaped her, right when blinding white bliss took over my sight and I pulled out just in time to stroke my release over her ass, grunting in the relief that followed.

“Fuck, I love you,” I whispered to the silence of the room before she turned around from underneath me, unworried about dirtying up the bed that didn’t belong to either of us.

Pulling me by my shirt, she whispered against my lips, “I love you more, daddy.”

[bandaigaeru]

song of the summer - bang chan

→pairing: ceo bang chan x gn reader

→genre: kinda strangers to lovers

→synopsis: he runs one of the biggest music companies in the country, yet he inducts you to help aid him and his friends, each of them deemed as representatives of the ‘big three’, for their next official comeback.

→word count: 12.5k

→ warnings: swearing, shitty father figure

i.

A single question hangs over the dim conference room you’ve somehow scored a seat in. Does the general public want to see 3Racha? Bluntly, the answer is right in front of you. Glowing against the whiteboard from the overhead projector, the carefully curated slideshow answers the rhetorical question.

One of the dance representatives from the back of the room twirls his pen between his fingers. Leaning back in his chair, he apathetically wonders aloud, “So it’s true, then?”

“What’s that, Mr. Lee?” the marketing representative, a Mr. Choi, holds his remote between both hands as he leans toward the table. The word ‘full’ dances across his face as he steps in front of the projector’s path.

“That they’re making a comeback. A full one?”

Mr. Choi nods, scanning the rest of the patrons’ reactions with squinted eyes as he says, “That would be correct.”

Of course, the three who would walk onstage and perform aren’t here. Mr. Bang is probably running around, abiding by his role as the professional CEO who never skips a beat. Regarding the other two, you’re not sure. They’re not as predictable.

The project is pretty tight in terms of what needs to be met. Summer is around the corner, and everyone and their mother will be fighting to hold that mere title of having the temporary greatest hit. When the general public awaits their yearly easily digestible, flowery songs.

“Keep in mind that we are all under Bang! Entertainment,” Choi remarks, clicking to his next slide displaying headlines questioning the company’s next move. “It should go without saying, but all eyes will be on us as the season turns.”

You stare at the bolded words, trying to digest each of them. Joining the company was likely the best decision you’ve ever made, outside of adopting a cat named Loba. When you got scouted as a producer, you were under a different company. Bang! offered a contract, but didn’t require an interview because they ‘didn’t want to invalidate or question a talent they’ve already seen.’

It was an ego boost.

“I’m sure you all know what your roles are in this,” Choi says, taking glances around the room to make sure each face isn’t lost or distant. This is 3Racha we’re talking about. Everything must be perfect.

You take a glance of your own. A few belong to the dance department, some to hair and makeup; however, you are the only producer here.

You raise a low hand to garner Mr. Choi’s attention. “Why am I here?” you subsequently ask, dropping your hand and crossing it against your chest as before.

“The team personally requested you,” he says.

Connections, you instantly understand. In a place like this, in a time like this, they’re a necessity. Nepotism is practically required in the world of music, hence why it sucks for most aspiring indie artists. You didn’t choose to befriend a guy who happens to be best friends with one of the big three here. So, you cast a blind eye.

It’s all a game of luck.

The meeting doesn’t run much longer. A concluding statement with hints of a threat if anyone messes up rings through your ears. A project end date of July 20th, when the album is supposed to go live. You’re not nervous, per se. Simply blindsided given the lack of information. What’s the song about? When’s the due date? Will 3Racha come to you first, or do you have to take time out of your day to the CEO’s harrowing office? The uncertainties aggravate the impulse of opening a new document on your computer and delving into your producer rituals. You can’t create someone else’s project out of blankness. And that irritates you to no end.

Someone throws their arm around your shoulder in an attempt to throw you off your purposeful stride.

“Congrats,” the belonger says.

You glance over to look, even though you know the voice well. He is your connection, of course.

“Thanks.”

Minho pulls you back to a slower pace. Familiar faces from the meeting pass you to the elevator, a majority in a meaningless chatter. They expected an appearance on this project.

“What are you doing tonight?” he finally asks, stopping altogether and dropping his arm from your shoulder.

You shrug, looking curiously at him. Minho’s not one to beat around the bush.

“Hypothetically,” he starts, “how would you feel being invited to bro night?”

“And actually witness you or Felix puke on the lawn instead of hearing about it? No thanks,” you scoff, making an attempt to abandon the situation by following the distancing crowd.

He grabs your wrist, spinning you back to him. “Please?” His eyes are pleading, glaring back at you like an innocent kitten.

You tip your head and sigh. “Why?”

Instead of cutting to the chase, he sucks in a deep breath and says, “I’ll pay you.”

An eyebrow cocks. Regardless of your amusement—a desperate Minho doesn’t appear often—worries consume you. “What’s up? Why are you acting like this?”

Wary eyes jump around the hallway before they land back on you. “Follow me,” he mumbles.

His steps are calculated as he guides you to the elevator and presses the floor his office resides on. The ride is silent, as is the walk down the hall. You step into the room first, and he closes the door behind him. Despite the urge to ask if he’s about to murder you, you bite your tongue and take a seat on his upholstered couch. Identical to the one in your office.

Gently, he lowers himself into his chair. A few minutes pass of you simply staring at each other. Nerves crawl up your spine and you disguise them with a snarky comment. “Are you going to tell me why you’re willing to bribe me into spending time with your friends?”

In the time he takes to respond, you think about how the only mutual friend you have is Jisung. Sure, you know everyone on a name basis; but it’s not like you’ve known them as long as Minho. He doesn’t have other, more qualified, friends to drag to bro night?

“Chan’s kinda in a mood right now,” Minho’s words are slurred by the breath he releases as he speaks.

“And?” you press.

“I want you to see it before you work with him. And for him to understand you in advance. Y’know. You’re a little,” he hesitates, “forward sometimes.”

You should take this as an insult, but you can’t because words’ owner knows you too well. Minho never speaks unjustly.

“Touche,” you nod. It’s better to own up to your flaws. If you don’t, that’s how you end up walking into a carefully curated narcissistic personality.

His features loosen as he presses his forearms on his thighs. “So. You in?”

“I don’t really have a choice,” you emit a wry laugh. All in one sentence, you’ve managed to prove his point. It’s simple, really.

“You see, I’ve already told the boys you’re coming. Either way, I would’ve gotten you to go. The only other option would have been to threaten you with a knife,” he admits. As you gawk at him in awe, realizing you stand in the same boat, a proud grin grows on his face. With time, you begin to mirror the ones you admire. Friends, for example.

“I think Seungmin will like you,” he adds.

“Why do you say that?”

All you know of Kim Seungmin is that he’s in the vocal department, along with his younger counterpart Yang Jeongin, and that he’s a menace. Minho’s words.

“You’re both evil.”

That’s the last straw. You stand up without a word and stomp for the door.

His laugh echoes behind you, striking a quieter one of your own. Still, you stay in character and slip out into the hallway. Minho has won too many of these scenarios.

ii.

Loba sneaks into the kitchen as you wait impatiently for Minho. Thirty minutes. That’s how late he is. You consider texting him, but acknowledge the possibility he’s stuck in traffic or something. Agitation tells you to do it anyway since he only lives two blocks over.

The orange cat paws at your calf for attention, momentarily distracting you as you set your phone down on the counter. Minho’s chat is wide open. She, too, finds excuses for him.

Her head nuzzles against your palm as you scratch behind her ears. She meddles successfully enough to trick you into feeding her a few treats. While you reach for the top shelf of your pantry, a pair of footsteps sneak up behind you. Heavier than Loba’s.

“Did the cat convince you to spoil her again?”

“Son of a-” you recoil, whirling around to greet the man, the myth, the late bastard.

The familiar appearance of a sly smirk, mischievous eyes, and an outfit that makes him look like a casual runway model, pierce your vision.

“You’re late,” you mutter, stepping past him and scooping Loba up. You rest her head on your left arm, cradling her like a baby. She tilts her head up to stare back at Minho. Traitor.

Minho grabs the bag of treats for you.

“Sorry, I had to pick up Jisung. He’s in the car,” his voice trails as he slips his thumbs between the plastic fold and focuses on opening the difficult seal.

“Damn it,” he curses. Karma arrives faster in deserving situations.

“It took you thirty extra minutes to pick him up?”

He deadpans, “You know he likes to be presentable for the boys.”

When you don’t give him the satisfaction of a single laugh, let alone a change in emotion, he whines, “Oh come on, that was funny.”

“You trick me into going to your stupid hangout, and now you have the nerve to show up late?”

He sneaks a few treats to Loba. “You’re really not mad at me right now, are you?”

“Irritated, at the least,” you admit.

“Well, then I’m sorry. Jisung got off late so I had to wait at Bang! for him.”

The words sink into your skin, but you don’t acknowledge them further. The anger fades on the walk down to the car, a great distance separating you and Minho. It’s practically dissipated by the time you climb into the backseat of Minho’s Kia Soul.

Jisung turns in the front seat and offers his hand at an awkward angle. “It’s a pleasure to be working with you.”

You hold your seatbelt in one hand, accepting his with the other as you force a measly smile. “Same for you. Thanks for suggesting me to Mr. Bang.”

Confusion warps his face, twisting his eyebrows in a weird knit as he shakes his head. “It wasn’t me. Must’ve been Chan.”

Minho drops himself into the driver’s seat, suspending any further questioning.

Jisung returns to his original poise as when you approached the car. Eyes focused on his phone, actively typing something out.

You click your seatbelt into locking. An unnatural feeling plagues your gut. Mr. Bang wanted you on the team? It feels unlikely, but you know Jisung wouldn’t joke like that. Even if he were the type, his acting of unawareness gives away the truth.

Minho glances back at you in the mirror. “Ready?” he asks as his hand rests on the gearshift.

You press your lips into a line as you nod. “Mhm.”

You stare down at your hands carefully folded in your lap. For the first time since before producing, the itch to create is drowned by an intense, overwhelming brew of something lingering in your veins.

The expectation of you has pierced through the roof and is shooting out of the stratosphere.

Chan—Jisung quickly advised you to drop all formalities, so you’re rewiring your thoughts—has a home in Gangnam. Fitting for his status, but smaller than you expected. It’s still able to fit at least four of your apartment in it, though.

Jisung and Minho walk ahead of you up the stairs. The elevators in rich apartments on this end can only fit two people if you really scrunch together. What’s the money for, then?

“Today’s Monopoly night, right?” Jisung examines Minho’s side profile as he cautiously lifts one foot after the other. The stairs here are steeper than any you’ve seen. Hiking sounds better than this.

He hums in approval. “I guess we’ll sort teams later. We probably won’t live through the night with last week’s.”

A brash laugh escapes Jisung’s lips, subsequently echoing against the walls and bouncing back to your ears. “Right.”

You tune out their conversation for the rest of the climb, settling for watching your shoelaces sway with each step.

Jisung pushes on the door for the fourth floor, holding it open until you’re fully into the hallway. “Chan’s the second door on the right,” Jisung nods to one of the identical doors along the hall—appearing more expensive than your monthly rent with its rich stain.

Minho doesn’t bother knocking, instead opting for trying the doorknob. It allows access to the gigantic living space and the loud chatter previously muffled by walls.

You must be the last to arrive, but you probably could’ve guessed such.

“Hey,” Jeongin looks up from his conversation, inspiring a round of greetings from all the others.

“You all know each other enough so I’ll skip the introductions,” Minho glances between you and the group, starting for an empty end of the couch.

When Jisung follows his lead, you take a headcount. It appears everyone’s present except Chan—his birth name still feels awkwardly informal in your thoughts. You glance down the dark hallway to your right, counting one, two, three closed doors. Nature drags you into curiosity.

Seungmin, your alleged evil twin, waves you over.

As you take the empty spot beside him, he says, “Sorry, you looked a little awkward just standing there. Thought I’d save you before Hyunjin said something.” He shoots a pointed nod at the long-haired blond lounging between Changbin and Minho.

“Oh. Thanks,” you force a little smile that imitates gratitude. You didn’t feel awkward observing, but maybe your aura screamed otherwise.

Jeongin leans slightly over Seungmin’s shoulder with an inquisitive eye. “How did Minho convince you to come?”

“Blackmail,” you nod. Not attempting to summon a laugh, but managing so in the process.

“That’s Minho for you,” Seungmin tips his head in a slightly disbelieving manner.

“It’s okay, though. We’ll make tonight fun for you,” Jeongin raises his hand, and you meet it with a high-five.

Bro night might not be as bad as you thought.

“If only Chan comes out from his room,” Seungmin mutters, particularly to himself, as he leans his arm on the back of the couch and twists his body to look back into the hallway.

Questions. You want to ask them, but then Minho’s words return in full, blaring effect. Forward, he said. Meaning: blunt. In your face.

You bite your tongue. Redirect the temptation, you think, as your eyes scan the room. Admittedly, it’s odd seeing all these people away from their respective passions. However, Changbin’s phone is cradled in his hands, and his fingers are typing away potential lyrics. Felix, too, is hiding the fact his fingers are mirroring the directions of his recent choreography. Maybe passions are always a shadow of you.

“Should we just fix teams?” Minho says above the impatient silence.

“We can,” Hyunjin leans his forearms on his thighs. His hair falls in front of his shoulders like he’s some kind of Greek god.

“Team captains?” Seungmin asks.

“Let’s do the oldest of each unit, but since Chan’s God-knows-where, Changbin can represent,” Minho nods, glancing around for looks of satisfaction.

“Sure, rock-paper-scissors for who goes first?” Seungmin pushes a strand of hair out of his eye.

Short story short, Minho wins the first round with a victorious cheer of, “Easy!”

“You only say that because you know they always pick scissors first,” you accuse.

Minho points a finger at you, “Allegedly.”

You land a spot on Minho’s team since he got the first pick of the litter. Then, by Minho’s attempt at matchmaking, Chan lands on your team.

As you’re moving spots, you shoot Seungmin a sad, unmoving look.

He laughs, pushing you towards Minho. “Maybe next time.”

“What?” Minho glances between you. “Are you planning a coup against me?”

“You wish, Lee Minho,” you sigh, falling into the empty space beside him.

After a few beats of silence, for good measure, Minho leans down to your ear and says, “I told you you’d like him.”

“Yeah, he’s like a better version of you,” you turn to see the predictable look of offense on his features.

“Fine then, get Seungmin to drive you home,” he pouts, crossing his arms against his chest and pushing his back into the couch.

“Oh come on,” you nudge his elbow, laughing at his exaggeration.

You see a smile tug at his lips before he breaks, letting a chuckle break through his barrier.

In the remaining meantime that you wait, Minho calls dibs on the cat. Seungmin’s team claims the dog, with an offhand comment from Minho going, “You would choose the dog.” Finally, Changbin’s team chooses the hat.

“Is that a joke because you’re so short? So you can gain a few inches with the hat?” Hyunjin jabs.

Changbin reaches over the couch to try and hit him.

From this end of the couch, you can look directly into the dark, mysterious hallway. You watch as the second door knob slowly turns. You focus on it, and the shouting dispute fades out in your ears.

Chan steps out from the room, carefully closing the door behind him so as to not bring all the eyes on him at once. You fight your facial expressions to remain neutral as you take in his appearance—which is shockingly normal. Suits are his workplace fashion, and consequently, all you’ve seen him in. Now, he wears black basketball shorts and a black tee. His hair is even loosening into curls. Is this the same man who runs a massive music company? Are we sure?

His cover is blown the moment he steps into the light of the living room. Jeongin warily points a finger in your direction, “You’re on their team.”

Chan presses his lips into a makeshift smile as he approaches you and Minho. He pushes out a small ‘hey’ before taking his spot on the other side of Minho.

His reclusive figure makes your heart wrench. You wish you could have talked Minho out of going. To him, you’re just an outsider he has to put a front up for. But, the thing is, he isn’t trying to build a barrier. It appears that he doesn’t have any more energy to try.

You catch yourself staring when Minho nudges your knee with his. “You take the first roll.”

Collecting the die, you notice your hands trembling a little. Not good. You manage, somehow knocking Seungmin’s dog in the process. He feigns shock, whining in an accusatory tone, “You’re no different than Minho.”

The choir of laughter shuffles you back into reality when you glance back at your accused teammate, catching the look of the other. The corners of Chan’s lips are slightly turning up into a smile.

Whew. You’re amazed by the amount of relief that little smile gives you.

iii.

The game trails into the early hours of the morning, and a few times a boy will point at Chan and say, in an attempt to be lighthearted, “This is all your fault.”

To the dismay of the rivals, Changbin’s team manages to win. Jisung, a member of Seungmin’s team, flips the board twenty turns too late at the news. “This game is stupid!” he laughs through his words.

“You’re cleaning that up,” Changbin says as the money flutters to the rug beneath the glass coffee table. A cue for the group to laugh blinks above their heads, each varying in intensity. Hyunjin even claps a few times, for his vocal contribution pales insufficient.

Jisung slumps to the ground, “I know.”

Chan lifts himself from the couch to aid him with a lingering smile from all the laughs. As the night progressed, he seemed to slowly inch into his ‘normal’ state, as Jisung had referred to in the car.

Minho slips his phone out from his pocket. At the single-digit time, nearing close to sunrise, he heaves a sigh and pushes himself up. “Guess I should get you home.”

He extends a hand to help you up.

“You’re leaving already?” Seungmin asks.

“Uh, yeah. It’s like three A.M.,” Minho squints at him, turning his lit home screen at him for proof.

Chan snickers as he stacks all the thousands. “That’s early for me.”

See? He’s even making jokes now. This is a weird normal, considering all you know of him is his status, but admittedly better than whatever funk he was previously in.

“See you on Monday, I’ll just spend the night,” Jisung lifts his hand in a semi-wave.

Chan doesn’t protest. Instead, he looks up at you and sticks his hand up. “Can’t wait to work with you,” and smiles. Dimples indent his cheeks in a way that makes your stomach churn.

You take his hand and mirror his smile, though it’s rather genuine in comparison to the one you offered Jisung.

Minho has the decency to wait to call you out on it until you’re in the soundproof safety of his car.

“I saw that,” he says.

“What?”

“The smile. Don’t like Chan. That’d be way too awkward for me.”

You laugh, examining his twisted face of disgust as he starts the car. “Why?”

You’re not asking out of curiosity. You don’t like Chan, and you don’t see yourself liking him anytime soon. Or in the far future, for that matter. It’s just so easy to mess with Minho.

“Uh, my best friend dating my other best friend? That’s third-wheel central. I’m too hot to be a third wheel.”

Later, as you’re unbuckling your seatbelt to venture into the apartment building, Minho mumbles, “But, I mean, if you like him it’s whatever. I don’t want you feeling like you have to hide anything from me.”

You punch his arm.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“You’re getting all sappy on me again. You don’t have to worry about stuff like that, dude,” you frown. Above anything Minho can say to you, his insecurities taking over his words hurts the most.

“I’ll see you on Monday,” you say, then adding, “Unless you want to come over sometime this weekend. I’ll be home.”

He smiles, though you sense the differing thoughts behind his eyes. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” you say before shutting the door.

iv.

In all the wrong ways, Monday comes too fast. Faster than you can process Friday night, essentially.

You try to scramble your remaining thoughts into order as you walk into the lobby.

Is Chan going to be normal today? Hoping so. Why was that relief so astonishing? Did Minho catch onto something-

“Hey, Y/N!” Jisung intercepts your thoughts.

Your eyes involuntarily widen as he pops out from seemingly nowhere. Your gaze drifts to his outstretched hands, offering you one of the drinks each brandishes.

“I didn’t know which you’d prefer, and Minho wasn’t awake so I couldn’t text him. So, I got coffee and tea.”

You take your pick and nod a ‘thank you.’

“How was your weekend?” you find yourself asking as he leads you to the elevator.

He shrugs, “I did absolutely nothing other than a brain detox for this project. You?”

Despite his back being to you, your chin twitches into a nod. “Same as you, pretty much.”

“I think Chan’s in a good enough mood,” Jisung glances back at you as he reaches for the up arrow on the elevator’s panel.

“Sweet.”

Minho is your gateway to an easy conversation. Of course, he’s not here, but you slightly wish he was. You’re forced to meander in an abrasive silence until the elevator takes you up to the eighth floor.

Eight, because Chan detests the idea of being too close to anyone. He doesn’t want his presence to divide anyone’s attempt at creating their best. An icon in distancing, Minho joked as during your first week under Bang!

Jisung sucks in a deep breath as he turns into a room whose door is partially cracked. “Here goes nothing.”

On the far side of the room is an L-shaped couch. Resting upon the vertical side as if he were in his own bed is Changbin. A laptop sits in his lap, closed, but his phone is inches away from his face as he types.

“It’d be more effective if you used that laptop,” Jisung comments, resting his drink on the coffee table and sitting by Changbin’s feet. Giving Changbin the perfect opportunity to wedge his foot between the younger’s ribcage. A cry of pain shoots out of Jisung’s mouth. Truly, he should have seen that coming.

“Dude!” he shouts, jumping to his feet and clutching his side.

“I told you not to mess with me,” Changbin’s eyes narrow into a warning gaze, but Jisung laughs anyway.

“You are not scary, bro.”

You start for the opposite end of the couch, pressing your back into the armrest as you watch the scene unfold. Cupping your drink with both hands, you’re unsure if the warmth stems from it or the sibling-esque fight before you.

Changbin slides the laptop off of his lap and pulls himself to his feet. He stands before Jisung, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. Then, as his eyes flutter open, he brings his fists up.

“Come on. Fight me.”

Jisung takes a step back. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Changbin shakes his head. “I’m not.”

Jisung’s eyes flit around the room for help. It would be that when the muscle man wants to fight, the only person physically capable of pacifying him isn’t here. Pure, unadulterated luck.

“And when you break my arm, then what?” Jisung’s eyebrows raise in taunting interrogation.

“Then I break your arm? What about it? You can perform with a shattered humerus. Right, ace?”

By chance of a higher being granting Han Jisung a break, Chan enters his office with a manila folder in his hand. Only a few steps into the room, he has to halt. His hand finds his hip, releasing a big sigh as he clutches the folder. To no surprise, he’s wearing a perfectly tailored suit. Black, of course. But with a surprising navy undershirt, which you give him credit for.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to cause injury in my office? Can you imagine the lawsuit? Would you do that to your beloved friend?” he asks a stream of questions.

He seems relatively happy.

Changbin drops his fists to his sides, gaze dropping back to his abandoned laptop. He scoops it up before reclaiming his spot. To fully conclude the argument, he opens the laptop’s lid. “Jisung started it.”

The accused boy looks at Chan and silently pleads his case. His hands clasp into a prayer.

Chan waves him off with a smile and a breathy laugh before starting for his desk. He acknowledges you with a small raise of his hand.

“Ah, where to begin?” he asks, to no one in particular, as he tosses the folder onto his desk and sinks into his chair.

“Han, can you turn the projector on?” Changbin takes the initiative, reaching over the couch’s back to grab a white USB cord.

He does as told, warily trying to avoid another pseudo-fight, before rushing to the light switch and fading the room into a mass of darkness. Chan must not like having his blinds open. Black world he lives in.

Changbin’s screen presents against the vacant wall across from him. A pre-written document appears, with the title ‘TT Ideas’ and a dashed list. 1.5 spacing, you admire.

“Okay, I did my homework,” he sighs, dragging his cursor over the highlighted ideas for the title track. “These are my personal favorites, but I’m up to debate.”

Jisung shivers at those words. Debate. Meaning: duel.

In the darkness, Chan steps in front of you. He sits halfway between you and Changbin, resting his elbows on his knees as he studies the list. You notice that his lips pout as he focuses, and his eyes squint a little.

You shift your own attention, for you’ll lose pacing if you stare at Chan the whole day. Changbin has highlighted unrequited love, turning the aura of summer into a song, unique abilities, and simply ‘flexing our equities’.

“Yeah, I definitely think that last one will go over well,” Jisung sardonically comments.

Changbin sighs in defeat and drags his cursor over his beloved idea, hitting the backspace in pity, “I knew you’d say that.”

“Can you elaborate on the unique abilities?” you ask, quieter than anticipated but still reaching its aim.

“Not to tute my own horn,” Changbin starts, running a hand through his hair, “but we’re sought after. When people see our names on tracklists, they immediately know the song is going to be good. They don’t sit and wonder if they’ll be disappointed, because they know with 3Racha that’s unpalatable. Hell, I saw someone tweet the other day that their favorite artist was spotted here, and the fandom went fucking crazy.

“People know what they expect from us, and that’s excellence. We deliver. You can’t say the same for a lot of producers. Doubt is inevitable for a lot of them, even if it’s only personal.”

“Couldn’t have said it better,” Jisung smirks, leaning his extended hand out to Changbin for him to high-five.

“What if we did it with an,” Chan hesitates, tilting his head at the screen to try and ease out the right words, “unnatural sound.”

“An experiment no one else could attempt,” you mumble, not expecting him to hear. His head snaps over to you, snapping, pointing a finger, and nodding.

“Exactly.”

The boys look between each other, bobbing their heads in agreement. “We can do that,” Jisung grins.

“You know, I had a feeling you would say that,” Changbin slips his phone out of his pocket, swiftly unlocking it and opening his notes app. “So I’ve already written my verse.”

“No way,” Jisung cocks his head at him.

“Okay,” Changbin mutters, “I had verses written for all the highlighted ones.”

“You are insane,” Chan chuckles, but not in an insulting tone.

From here on out, it’s smooth sailing.

v.

Until Jisung pats the pockets of his jeans two weeks later. “Shit,” he mutters, glancing back at the elevator you had just come from.

Midnight was around the corner and Jisung had promised Minho they’d go see the late-night showing of the latest horror film.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

He turns to you with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. “I think I left my phone in Chan’s room. I’m gonna be late. Minho’s gonna kill me.”

You cease his rambling by putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll go get it. Just tell Minho to text me when you’re done so you can pick it up. ‘Kay?”

So what if Loba’s waiting for you at home, probably pawing at the front door and meowing like, “I’m hungry”? You have a profound soft spot for Jisung. And not because Minho threatened you if you ever showed any disliking. Plus, Loba’s spoiled in all other walks of her life. She can handle you coming home a little later than usual for one night.

He breathes a sigh of relief, looking up at the high ceiling in some kind of grateful manner. “You are a lifesaver, Y/N.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you smile, starting back to the elevator as he continues his path.

The company is rather unsettling without its daytime bustle. It’s even worse on the eighth floor. A usual ghost-town, except with an increased darkness and an odd chill trailing down your back.

The hallways feel stuffy as you get close to Chan’s office, your gaze set ahead. A sniffling sound seeps into your range of hearing, though you don’t think much of it. You can get colds in summer.

Naive to think a man as esteemed as Mr. Bang would succumb to a measly cold.

As you sneak your head between the cracked door, placing your hand around its width and slightly pushing forward, the view sends your heart crashing into your stomach. Chan’s head is lowered, either hand cupping his head as incessant tears drip from his nose.

Awkwardly stepping forward, you clear your throat.

His glossy eyes, rimmed with red and slightly puffy, jump up to you. Instinctively, he attempts to discard the evidence.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he croaks, pulling his sleeve over his hand and gliding it across his damp cheek.

That’s something he could learn. If someone’s a witness, you can expect them to ease into questions. It’s only nature.

“Do you need a hug?” you attempt. Don’t be forward, don’t be blunt, don’t be mean. Minho’s reminder blinks across your vision.

He laughs, “Maybe.”

A pitiful smile creeps onto your lips as you step around the desk. Your arms link semi-awkwardly around his shoulders. He presses his cheek against your collarbone, silently crying a little. You take careful breaths, trying to stabilize your chest for him.

“Does anyone know?” Your hand rubs soft circles against his back. He shakes his head against your body. A small hiccup shakes his frame.

“You can tell me if you want.”

“I don’t want to burden you,” he manages through his tears.

You pull back a little for him to look at you. “I will smack sense into you if you say some stupid shit like that again.” In spite of his eyes crinkling into a smile—looking at you like you’re a childhood friend who he knows like the back of his hand—you try to recover. “I swear, you won’t burden me.”

He takes in a shaky breath. A blaring thought curses the forefront of your eyes. “Do you mind if we go to my apartment, though? I have a hungry cat waiting for me.”

Your arms retreat to your sides as he nods and drags the back of his hand across either cheek. “Yeah, no problem.”

You glance over at the couch, and the object of your mission stares back at you. For a second, you swear it’s glowing gold and screaming, “Your quest ends here! Bring me to my owner!”

You shuffle for the couch and scoop it up. When Chan looks at your hand in confusion, you offer, “Jisung left it. I’m the delivery service.”

“Right.” And he smiles. Comfort engulfs your body when you notice the flood has stopped.

Since you normally walk or ride the bus to work, Chan drives. His shiny sports car looks rather alien beside your used, well-used, car.

“I should warn you,” you turn to him as you push your key into the lock, “Loba’s a cuddler.”

“Sweet. I’d feel bad asking you for more hugs,” he jokes.

Sure enough, Loba is lying before the door. She scrambles to her feet and stares up at her guardian and the new intruder. Conveniently misplacing her cries for food, she scopes out the new man.

“What’d you say her name was again?” Chan asks, squatting in front of her and scratching behind her ears.

“Loba,” you say, opening the fridge to dish out Loba’s expensive special food. Adopting a cat with stomach issues, am I right?

“Loba?” Chan repeats, stifling a laugh.

“I didn’t name her,” you turn to him in defense.

Chan lowers himself, crossing his legs as Loba climbs into his lap. The love-hungry cat doesn’t even notice when you set her ceramic bowl next to her water station. She’s too absorbed in her newfound friend.

Rather than forcing them to relocate to the couch, you sit offset from them on the tile. Smiling down at the orange cat, you admit, “She’s not even like this with Minho.”

“Really?” Chan’s amused face stuns a vibration in your chest.

You appeal confirmation.

“That’s crazy. I’m a dog person, normally,” he coos down at the lovebug.

Don’t let this distract you from the task at hand, you remind yourself.

“So,” you drag. How do you say this without tempting the tears again? Admittedly, it would be nice if you had an ounce of insight. You’re walking into a minefield without a blueprint of where they lie.

Chan sighs, acknowledging his cue. “My dad doesn’t really like me all too much,” he wryly laughs.

“He seems stupid then,” you offer, not thinking further than trying to comfort him, “You’re very likable.”

“Thank you,” Chan drags his tongue against his bottom lip.

He continues, “Moreso, he dislikes his father. The one who skipped a generation when trying to continue his legacy. By association, I kind of take the brunt of it.” He looks at you through blurry eyes as he bites the inside of his cheek.

“If it makes you feel any better, I think you were the only person who could have continued the company. Your dad seems,” you hesitate, “insolent. You, on the other hand, are an ace.”

“I try to tell myself that. He makes me go to all of his business parties to keep his reputation up, as well as mine in a way. You don’t want the broken family running a huge corporation,” he mimics what he’s been told.

“So you can’t tune him out,” you echo.

“Yep,” he drags the word out, prompting a heavy sigh.

“I’m not really good at the whole comforting thing,” you study the creases of your palms. “But I’ll say that you are, by far, the most amazing person I could work for. You’re really admirable. Plus, Minho really likes you. You’re kind of like the brother he never had.”

“God, you’re gonna make me cry,” he laughs, staring up at the light as he pulls a hand away from Loba to wipe at his waterline.

“I’m serious,” you chuckle. “Would I blow smoke up your ass if you’re crying on my floor with my cat in your arms?”

When he hesitates to respond, you do it for him. “The answer is no. I don’t even do that for Minho.”

“That’s comforting,” he admits.

“I’d hope so. Now, hand me your phone,” you stick your hand out.

“Why?”

“So I can give you my number. Text me if stuff goes downhill, now that I’m in the loop.”

He looks at you quizzically.

“What? Do you think I’m going to let you suffer in silence now that I know?”

He leans to the side, cradling Loba protectively, as he draws his phone from his pocket. Unlocking it before he hands it to you.

As you type in a new contact, you say, “Do you want something to eat? I can order a pizza.”

vi.

Unfortunately, peace is temporary. Always and forever.

When you enter Chan’s office a few weeks after the father debacle, prepared to start the official recording of the album as decided on the previous day, you’re met with two confused men. Admittedly, you’re a little late, but not enough for them to be lost.

Changbin looks up at you as you cross the threshold. “Have you seen Chan?”

You shake your head.

“Heard from him?” Jisung follows.

Again, you shake your head.

“Shit,” they both fall back against the couch cushions in defeat.

“What’s wrong?” The grip on your bag tightens. Despite your inquisitive words, your gut gives you a fair answer.

“We haven’t heard from him since five this morning,” Changbin looks at Jisung for confirmation on the details.

“No one’s seen him?” you follow up.

“No one. He won’t answer our group chat either.”

Your foot taps against the floor as you try to remain composed. He texted you last night about his dad’s upcoming gala but was sparse about details. Or about the fact he would straight up disappear. Obviously, you can’t offer this information to them. A promise is a promise, even if half unspoken.

“Should we work through it? Get his parts whenever he decides to show up?” Changbin speaks.

“We can’t exactly meander anymore. Tracklist goes out at noon,” Jisung shakes his phone as annoyingly clear evidence.

“And you still need to learn the choreo for the title track,” you add. There’s only a month left. You bite your tongue, allowing the pain to slightly calm you down.

“God, what horrible timing,” Jisung laughs, but no joy laces through his tone.

You point harsh eyes at them, heavy steps leading you to the microphone stand designated for recording. “Come on then. Let’s get ahead before we can fall behind.”

vii.

You leave work the moment recording is done for the day, a discovery pulling you from focusing on anything else. Chan shared his location with you a few days ago when he offered a reciprocal to what you’ve done for him. “So you can always find me,” he said via text.

Though not for the right purpose, per se, you’re going to find him. And when you do, you might have to smack sense into him this time. With love, you convince yourself as you pull up to the stadium.

Who in their right mind rents an indoor stadium for an evening party? Rich people, evidently.

You find Chan’s car, among its shiny counterparts, and park as close to it as you can. As you get out, you pull your phone out of your pocket and call him. Not expecting him to answer, honestly.

“Hello?” his voice penetrates your ears.

“I’m outside,” you say, fighting the heavy heartbeat echoing in your head. Your hands tremble at the thought of him here, all dressed up and acting like nothing’s wrong.

“What?” he mumbles.

You look up to the big screen above the gate. “Gangnam Public Stadium, right?”

The background noise slightly fades as he says, “Wait where you are, I’ll come meet you.”

“Parking lot,” you offer before he hangs up.

You step into the shade and lean against a brick wall.

Today’s one of the finer days of summer. It’s mid-June. The solstice is just around the corner. A light breeze brushes against your skin and gently ruffles your hair. It probably helps that you’re surrounded by wealthy cars. A mood booster, in a weird way.

Quick, heavy steps draw closer. You turn your head to the source.

Chan drops his hands onto his knees as he pants. “You shouldn’t be here,” he manages.

“You should’ve told someone why you wouldn’t be at work. We all have our regrets,” you nibble on the inside of your cheek as you stare at him.

“God,” he mutters, straightening himself before standing next to you against the wall.

“You’ll get your suit dirty,” you comment, but he doesn’t care.

“You should leave.” His eyes, heavy with an emotion akin to irritation and sadness, scan over your face.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me why you did this,” you stand your ground. Just like Minho would hate in a moment like this. “To get to a person, you have to ease them into it,” he guided at one point. Frankly, you couldn’t care less right now.

He avoids your eyes as he tries to flatten his staggered breathing. In due time, he composes himself and finally looks at you. His features have loosened, and you note his brow is no longer creased.

“I didn’t want to lose my cool in front of them,” he admits.

“Scared to?”

He nods. “It was scary enough having one person see me cry.”

The place between your heart and ribs begins to pulsate heat.It begins to spread across your bones and through your muscles. For once, you have to think about what to say next. You can’t be mad at him, for his reasoning makes more sense than it had before. God, this is irritating.

“Let’s make the song of the summer, then,” you reassure him with a curt nod. “Pull you out of this monster field around you and let’s make history.”

The dark surrounding encasing him cracks away as an unbelievable smile finds its place. One like you have never seen. One that pierces your heart with its joy. “Let’s do it.” And he drags you into a hug. Despite the roles taking a quick turn, you feel comforted. But he’s squeezing the life out of you.

viii.

You’ve done all you can do for 3Racha within the next week. The album is complete, as far as instrumentals and lyrics. All that’s left is promotion, along with all the theatrical elements left to be discussed. But that’s separate from you.

It feels bittersweet that it’s come to an end. You know that sometime in the future you’ll return to the studio with them, working alongside creative geniuses to invent a piece. Together. That’s the key. But it feels so far away.

You sit in your empty office, staring at the broad window as raindrops fall down the glass. Recounting the process in your head with distant gratitude. Title track: God’s Menu. You’re proud of it, viewing it as your child. Watching it grow into a real song, with real words and sounds attached to it. Wow. You catch a glimpse at the meaning of life as you watch two raindrops race down. It’s this: blossoming art from a tiny idea. Admittedly not entirely your own, but the principle remains.

The other tracks enlist an equal amount of precious memories for you. Late nights felt normal with the unreal energy coursing through your veins. You notice the products of effort as you consider all those extra hours. Admiration shoots through your body, leaving it numb.

It was all them, though, you acknowledge. You were only there as a caretaker, offering your own hint to mark the music.

3Racha is like a shooting star. It's fantastic, in a sense. Not everyone can say they’ve seen a shooting star in the same way not many can say they’ve witnessed the production process with three of the most talented producers in the game. They’re unreal.

A knock against your doorframe shocks you out of your thoughts. You drag your foot against the floor to turn your chair.

Chan, dressed in an outfit similar to that of boys’ night, awaits your attention. Sweat lines his forehead, glistening his skin. You can guess where he’s been.

“Hey.”

“I need your help.” His words were trailing your simple greeting so close you could say he interrupted you. Seriousness brings his face into a dimness, slightly intimidating you.

“With?” you prompt.

He leans against the frame with his arm, replaying his words in his head over and over before spitting them out, “I kind of told my dad I’d bring a date to his next party.”

“Oh?” you say, slowly realizing. “Oh.”

“Will you do it?” His features twist into a nervous reflection.

“Sure, if you pay for my outfit.”

You say this as a joke, but he fails to convey it this way. “Deal. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Does Loba need a cat tree by any chance?”

He doesn’t await your answer as he slips back into the hall. Was that conversation even real?

An indistinguishable whiplash conquers your body into a sudden realization. You turn to your desk, scooping your phone into your hands and texting Minho, beginning with, “When you see this…”

ix.

Certainly, Chan is a man of his word. From the mere month you’ve known him, you should have gathered this. But as you stand in his living room, decked out in some outfit he carefully chose for you, it blares against all of your senses in bright, evident clarity.

Minho’s message buzzes against your palm.

Lee Knows: Loba’s conked already, two minutes after she ate. Have fun ;)

You: Lol thanks again for taking care of her.

Lee Knows: Of course. Anything for my bestest friend in the world. Now, a night of yearning!

The only way to describe this feeling rooted in the base of your stomach are the words: raw emotion. It’s a cluster. Jitters mixed with a blend of uncertainty and a weird elation? To be fair, you are about to lie your way through expensive drinks and hors d’oeuvres. What even are those?

Regardless, one thing is certain. Minho was right. It’s...discouraging to admit. Frankly, you’d ignore it for as long as possible if you could. But adoration is difficult. In your face. Forward, some would refer to it as.

God, this is all Minho’s fault.

“Ready?” Chan’s shoes click against the hardwood as he departs from his dark hole of a room. He looks stunning, though his attire isn’t much different from his office wear. A small sign of rebellion appears in his appearance, which ignites a flame in your chest.

Chan brings a hand to where your eyes are burning a whole into—his hair. The curls are there, less accentuated than bro night, but evident. “Ah, I didn’t really want to straighten it. I’ve already had fried hair one too many times in my life.”

“It looks nice,” you smile. Your throat tightens as you swallow. “You look nice.”

“Same for you,” he allows a prolonged scan of you. Sheepishly, you do one of those cheesy twirls you always see in the romance movies before Prom night or whatever expensive evening the protagonists are attending. Sincerely, with all the love rampaging through your chest, you’re going to kill Minho for cursing your life like this.

He snaps out of his trance, starting for the door. “We should get going.”

Aside from the quiet hum of the radio, the ride to the venue is silent. It wouldn’t be complete without hitting every redlight, either. Jisung’s luck must have rubbed off on you when you had that group hug.

You sit at one now, red gleaming against your face as you stare out at the sidewalk vacant of pedestrians. No one’s even at any of the other lights.

“You okay?” Chan asks.

“Yeah,” you turn back to him.

“Good,” he nods, instantly averting your eyes.

Perhaps you should have found a way to decline. Even Loba would have been a better date option. At least she has chemistry with him.

x.

To no one’s surprise, the venue is huge. Potentially larger than the stadium. From ceiling to the carpeted floor, decorated properly with the black tie theme.

Chan reluctantly grabs your hand before you tackle the crowd. If you were cold, the warmth radiating against your palm is sufficient for heating the rest of your body. Unluckily, though, you aren’t cold. Your hand feels clammy in his. If he wasn’t attracted to you before, he certainly isn’t now.

You stare at your shoes as you follow.

“Just a heads up about my dad,” he glances over his shoulder to make sure you’re still there, despite the tether between you, “he most definitely thinks we’re dating, so be prepared for questions.”

“Oh great,” you mumble. How do you cure a lovesick heart? What an ambiguous question offering up to a plethora of potential answers. One incorrect answer, though: acting out romance. In real time, too.

“Sorry, I probably should have told you sooner. Kind of slipped my mind,” he squeezes your hand in apology.

Even when you break out into a free space, his hand doesn’t pull from yours. Instead, he slightly tightens the hold as he approaches an older man. Without any prior knowledge (ie. not Googling his dad after he cried on your kitchen floor over the bastard), you could guess this is his dad. They practically have the same face. Striking differences, however, given some context.

“Hey,” the man grins, eyes shifting curiously between you and his son.

You dip your head in respect. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Bang.”

His hand claps your shoulder as you look up. “You don’t have to be so formal with me.” Silence hangs onto the end of his sentence as he glances at Chan for help.

“Y/N,” Chan offers. Your name sounds pretty coming from him.

“Y/N,” his father repeats. You want to sock him for saying your name.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Would have been nicer if Chan had given a little notice,” he laughs for you, alternatively offering a subtle, but not unnoticeable, glare to Chan.

Reflexively, your unoccupied hand clenches until you feel your nails pressing sharply into your skin. Discreetly, you nudge Chan’s arm with your elbow as a sign that you’re here. Slightly, his hand loosens in yours as his nerves slowly ease.

“Sorry, it’s kind of recent,” Chan laughs. His eyes crinkle into a faux delight.

“Of course,” his father nods. “Haven’t seen any articles about it yet, which is good. You might not want this being exposed to the GP.”

“Wouldn’t want that,” Chan manages through gritted teeth, albeit hidden in a way only you could notice.

Then, as if the attack didn’t have a cooldown, he reaches up and tugs at one of Chan’s curls. “Your hair looks...interesting.”

It’s really difficult trying to remain neutral in the face of backhanded advice and compliments. Especially in front of this man, who shouldn’t even be given a title as esteemed as that. He’s scum stuck to the back of your old, rusty car that won’t go away in spite of however many power washes.

“Mr. Bang,” a waiter appears behind him, stealing his attention long enough for you to drag Chan in the opposite direction. He’ll find his way into a business conversation soon anyway. With no recollection of what he said to his son whatsoever. Considering his words will always stick with Chan, your face heats up.

You ignore Chan’s repelling tug, and his words that go in one ear and out the other. A hidden area near the bar is the only place where he has enough courage to stop you. But only because you let it happen.

“If we stayed there much longer, I would have caught an assault charge,” you huff.

“You handled it well, though,” he admits, “Even if you were about to break my hand.”

In the face of anger personified, he manages to smile and crack a laugh.

“Sorry,” you mumble, finally pulling your hand away from his.

“Do you want something to drink?” he asks, glancing back at the bartender serving an established looking woman a margarita. Likely strawberry from its tint.

You shake your head, “I’m good. Thank you.”

“Well, then, I’ll be back,” he reaches out to rub your shoulder before slipping back into the crowd. You’re jealous of the effect he has to just become invisible.

You pull your phone from its hidden spot and open Minho’s awaiting text.

Lee Knows: Has he made a move yet?

You: Why would he?

Lee Knows: Idk you’re kind of obvious.

Before you can answer, an incoming notification from Seungmin pops up.

Seungmo: Is it true that you like Chan?

Minho. Lee Minho. You grimace.

You: No comment.

Seungmo: Sweet. Jeongin owes me twenty bucks. But ew. Who would romantically like Chan?

The text really ties together with the barfing emoji.

“Who’s that?” the subject of both text logs peeks his head over your phone.

You snatch it back, instinctively turning it off. “Seungmin.”

“I didn’t know you were friends with him,” Chan observes, placing the black straw between his lips. His drink is also tinted pink, but not in a margarita glass.

“Minho built the bridge during bro night. Now we plot behind his back,” you joke, promptly making Chan choke. He coughs, covering his mouth with his sleeve as he sputters.

“Don’t do that when I’m drinking!” he laughs.

Your chest heaves as you try to stifle the laugh building up in your chest.

“Oh come on, you’re even gonna have the nerve to laugh at me?” he tips his head to look at your quivering frame. He finds this funny, but he can’t just not tease you. That’s not in the rule book.

“I’m not laughing,” you try to convince him, lips pressed into a fine line as quick breaths leave your nose.

“Right,” he rolls his eyes.

If he were being honest with you, he was doing this as a ploy to take your mind off of his dad. Honesty isn’t one of his finer points, though. So he stays quiet.

“Do you want a sip?” he offers the fruity looking drink to you.

“What is it?” you ask, but accepting the glass anyway.

“Just a strawberry mimosa.”

Again, if he were honest, he’d tell you he only got it to share with you. It was a shot in the dark, neutral enough. But, again, not one of his stronger urges. Minho would refer to this as him ‘making a move’, unbeknownst to you.

You take a quick sip. Humming in approval, you hand it back to him. “It’s good, I can barely even taste the alcohol.”

He fixes his hair absentmindedly as a passing conversation arises. Subject: Minho. Goal: offering both parties ammunition for his next offhand comment or prank.

“Did you know that Minho talks in his sleep?” you laugh.

Chan pulls at a curl, pulling it straight. “He seems like the type.”

You reach up and flick his wrist.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“Stop thinking about what your dad said,” you scold. The nerves in your stomach dissipate as your hand ruffles his hair, fluffing it out. He looks more relaxed as you pull away.

“Sorry,” he whispers.

“Don’t apologize, or I’ll punch you next time.”

“I can see why you and Minho get along so well.”

xi.

By the time you’re set free from the hell of socializing with all of Chan’s dad’s friends who last saw him when he was ‘this high’, the effects of the single mimosa wear off. Luckily for Chan, you drank most of it, so he’s set to drive.

“My feet hurt,” you complain. Maybe it would have been smart to break in the fancy shoes Chan invested for you before the event.

“Do you want me to carry you?” Chan asks, turning to you.

Against all voices inside of you screaming to decline, your pain receptors answer for you. “That’d be great, since you're offering.”

He bends his knees slightly and holds his arms slightly out. When you jump onto his back, he doesn’t even react.

“Do you religiously workout or something?” you joke, though true curiosity shines through your words. You’re pretty obvious.

“Duh. Every breathing moment I’m not working or crying over my dad. It’s a stress reliever.” Your arms, hanging from his neck, feel each vibration in his chest as he laughs.

As he readjusts his hands beneath your thighs, maintaining a steady hold of your body against his, your body grows warm and you can envision your cheeks glowing red. Minho was so right. And the field day he’s going to have with the upcoming weeks until the joke grows stale. You shiver at the thought.

“Are you cold?” Chan asks.

“Oh, no, I was just thinking about Minho.”

“Scary,” Chan mimics his own shiver at the mention.

You press your cheek against his shoulder, his steady steps drawing your eyes shut.

The silence you find is unparalleled to the one in the car earlier. This one is comfortable, homely even. So much so that you feel yourself fall asleep.

xii.

When you get to his apartment, he nudges your shoulder.

Your eyes slowly open, fighting against the dull light from the roof of his car.

“You can spend the night at my house. I’m not confident in pulling a sleeping body out of a car. Putting you in was hard enough,” he chuckles.

You manage a smile and hazily push the passenger door open. From the rest, your feet should be fine walking to the elevator (since there’s one less body than bro night, you’ll fit) and to his apartment. Still, he wraps his arm around your shoulders to steady you all the way up to his front door.

“I’ll grab you some clothes,” he says as you fall onto his couch. You didn’t acknowledge how comfortable it was just from sitting on it. Honestly, it feels like a normal mattress.

He returns from his room quickly with a pair of sweatpants and a shirt. Both black, as you could have guessed.

You walk to the bathroom and sleepily tug your fancy outfit off, careful not to ruin it. As you pull his shirt over your head, a rush of his cologne hugs you. You fight off the ‘I could get used to this’ comment that floats through your head.

You don’t remember walking back to the couch. But you remember Chan pulling a blanket up to your chin.

xiii.

Chan pokes your cheek, drawing you away from your precious dream of living in a cottage on the seafront—conveniently with him. You whine, pulling the blanket over your head in an attempt to ward him away. Dream Chan is waiting for you.

“Y/N, come on. You can’t sleep on my couch all day.” The worst part is: you can hear the faux pout in his voice. And potentially worse: you definitely could sleep on this couch all day if your life depended on it. Even if it didn’t, to be honest.

“Go away,” you grumble.

He sighs. His presence beside you disappears for a few moments, long enough for sleep to momentarily return. The bubble of peace pops eventually.

“Hey, Minho,” his voice returns, slightly muffled by the distance and the cloth pressed against your ear.

This is enough to spring liveliness into your bones. You sit up, hateful eyes shooting in the direction of the voice. When you see him laughing, his dark phone pressed against his ear, you reel. “One of these days, I’m gonna leave your company and then your stocks are gonna plummet,” you groan.

“Is that the best insult you can come up with?” he counters, dropping his hoisted arm to his side.

“I have more, but they're still closed off. You know, since you’ve rudely interrupted my sleep.”

“I’m sorry. Not really, though. It’s like noon.”

“And?”

“I can’t leave you here alone,” he laughs.

“What, do you have a date to attend?”

Awaiting his response, you reach for your phone on the coffee table. Two missed calls. A few Snapchats from Seungmin, likely pictures of his new puppy, but no matter.

“I wish. I have to meet up with Jisung. Pressing news he has to tell me, too confidential to be told over text.”

“He’s gonna confess,” you shoot him a look.

“Yes, because Han Jisung would be in love with me,” he starts for the kitchen. An extended arm pulls at the fridge, and he pulls two waters out.

“To be fair, if I were Jisung, I’d probably be in love with you,” you say, obviously without much thought behind it.

Okay. In your defense, you were a little too focused on reading Minho’s latest string of confusing messages. Trying to decipher the code, Chan’s response passes right through you like a ghost.

Lee Knows: Y/N you won’t believe this.

Lee Knows: Loba’s gonna be so happy.

Lee Knows: I know you’re probably cuddled up with Chan or whatever but call me ASAP.

Chan lowers himself beside you, tossing the cold water in your lap. He peeks over your shoulder. “Huh. That’s pretty much what Jisung said to me.”

“Why are you invading my privacy?” you glare at him, considering elbowing him precisely between the ribs. Ultimately deciding against it, of course. Through tense internal conflict.

“Really? You’re sitting on my couch, in my clothes, refusing to leave, and you wanna talk about privacy?”

Just because he has a point doesn’t mean he should voice it. Plus, he offered the clothes. And the couch for you to sleep on. It really just seems like a self jab to you.

“Should I call him?” Your finger glides across your bottom lip as you look at him for an answer.

“Sure, why not?” he throws his hands up in defeat. “Let’s see what Jisung and Minho have conspired this time.”

The ring echoing sparks a nervous pit in your stomach. You pick at the sticker of the water bottle. It feels like forever by the time he answers.

“Morning, sunshine,” Minho’s sweet voice reeks of sarcasm.

“You’re on speaker, by the way,” you close your eyes to avoid looking at Chan’s burning eyes.

“Oh perfect, you are too,” Jisung joins in, a dry laugh escaping his throat.

“We have some questions,” Minho begins, but fails to continue.

“Such as?” Chan prompts.

“Are you guys dating yet?” Jisung bluntly jumps to the case.

Your heart rams against your chest. That ‘yet’ tugs at your insides.

“Uh, no,” you draw out.

“The media sure thinks otherwise,” Minho jabs.

Chan’s already searching for the articles by the time you can react.

“Fuck.” He throws his head back against the couch in frustration, tilting his phone towards you so you can see.

CEO Bang Chan Lands a Date Weeks Before Comeback.

Bang Caught With Employee?

Bang Chan, CEO, Makes a Striking Appearance at Dad’s Gala.

“What? Did you really think there wouldn’t be journalists there? Come on Chan, do better.” You never knew Jisung had this cutting edge to him. If the words were aimed at you, you know you’d break down. It’s a miracle that Chan is this composed.

“Can you calm down? My god,” you say without realizing. “It’s not like we can’t fix this.” How, though, you ponder?

“If it makes you feel any better,” Minho reluctantly says, like this sentence could put his life on the line, “you looked cute.”

“Thanks,” you mutter. In any other circumstance, you’d be quick to mock him. Well. At least he’s not outwardly making fun of you. Another one of Minho’s late night insights seeping into your thoughts: see the positive.

A text notification drops down against your screen. Despite having the luxury of using his voice, it’s Minho.

Lee Knows: Would now be a bad time to out you?

You: Horribly.

“Well,” Jisung draws in a sharp breath.

“Good luck,” Minho finishes for him.

After he hangs up, promptly after letting you know he fed Loba this morning, you pick up the water bottle and place it against your cheek. The shocking chill redirects your nerves momentarily.

You try not to look at Chan, but you know he’s looking at you.

After a moment to catch your breath, he sighs, “I have an idea.”

It takes an effort to pull your attention to him. A war against yourself.

“Play along with me for a second,” he says, pulling his leg beneath him as he repositions himself beside you. Fully facing you, taking in your entire being—which doesn’t help your burning skin. You’d give anything to be invisible right now.

“What if,” he starts, “we go along with it?”

You laugh in his face. “Are you sure that wouldn’t blow up even worse? Imagine people finding out we faked it. That wouldn’t be good for you.”

He messes with his fingers, suddenly finding an intense interest in the linework of them. He rubs his thumb against the crease of his ring finger. “I don’t think anyone would have to find out it’s fake, per se.”

“How are you so confident?” You look at him in awe. Even when he’s spewing absolute nonsense and under pressure, he looks like a god. Calm as ever. It’s horrifying for your heart. And for common sense, but that’s not as important right now.

“I don’t think Minho would lie to me.”

“What does Minho have to do with this?”

His dimple shows itself as a measly smile crosses his lips. “He may have told me.”

Regardless of what he may have spilled, you know instantly. “You’re kidding me,” you huff. What was the point of his dramatic message, then? A distraction, maybe.

“I mean it’s okay. It’s not like it’s not reciprocated or anything.”

“You are unbelievable,” you shake your head. “How did you know and not say a single thing?”

His hands shoot up in defense. “To be fair, I didn’t find out until after you fell asleep last night. For the second time. He texted me with this whole ‘I know something you don’t’ facade. I wasn’t going to act on it until I had a stupidly romantic plan, but then this happened,” he gestures around the room, as if it’s the decor’s fault. He’s quick to add, “And I couldn’t do that as soon as they said anything about the articles. That’d kinda ruin the mood, don’t you think?”

So Chan’s probably not good with looking amazing under pressure—he very well could be, but you wouldn’t know that right now. Which slightly irritates you, but no matter.

“Well,” you sigh. “I guess that solves the problem.”

He nods, looking at you solemnly.

“Your dad’s gonna be pissed, though,” you comment, and he laughs.

“I know.”

Funny. As soon as the problem jumped at you, the imminent solution scared you just as fast. Your head hurts from the whiplash. That must be a pattern with him.

“You know what’s kinda perfect about this?” he says after a moment.

“Tell me.”

“We can write love songs together now. Isn’t that cool?” The sheer joy in his face shatters any aggravation left in your veins. A smile creeps up on you.

“You’re such a nerd.”

“And you’re madly in love with a nerd so I don’t see what your point is.”

You pull the pillow out from behind your back and chuck it at his head.

“Oh so you’re trying to kill your beloved love interest? Real classy, Y/N.”

“Please just shut up and kiss me already,” you lean over halfway and wait for him to meet you.

Kissing a major CEO doesn’t feel much different than kissing a normal person, but there’s a striking flare of passion to it. Maybe that’s a personal thing.

His lips fit against yours in a way that makes your soul instantly tethered to him. You hope he can’t feel your heartbeat against your lips, for it’s pulsing rather loud and antsy for you.

Chan radiates warmth in every piece of his body, extending all the way to his aura. If it wasn’t for your pesky lungs running out of air, you’d never pull away.

xiv.

In spite of his idea for a romantic confession going down the drain as soon as he decided to think one up, he makes up for it with incessant gestures. Bringing you snacks when he should be in meetings. Buying you sweets when you get stressed. Purchasing Loba a huge cat tree, even though she doesn’t need to be spoiled further. Spending the night at your house even when his is way more comfortable for the sheer reason that Loba would feel lonely.When you mention taking her with you, he’d say, “I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable with the new environment.”

He even postponed bro night because you got sick and wanted to be the one to take care of you.

You don’t need reminders that he loves you, but it’s all the while heartwarming when he says it.

Even now, with his arm wrapped around your waist and his chin propped on your shoulder, he’s thinking aloud in romance land. “What if we went on a vacation to France for Christmas? Isn’t Paris the city of love?”

You watch the TV, but his voice drowns out all of the dialogue. “I don’t know, Chan. Why can’t we stay here?” you shift in his arms to roll over and face him. This close, as you’ve grown accustomed to these past months, you can count all of his eyelashes. And you can see tiny freckles scattered across his cheeks. It must be an Aussie thing.

He presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. “We can stay here. I’m fine with that.”

Loba jumps onto the bed, her collar jingling with her sudden movement to warn you she’s arrived. You pull away from Chan a little to make room for her between you. “Here comes the princess,” you feign disappointment with a sigh.

She claims her spot between your chests and curls herself into a ball, burying her face in Chan’s chest. Per usual. She often forgets who feeds her around here.

“Anyway,” Chan leans over her, kissing your lips gently, “I’m okay wherever. As long as you’re with me.”

After a beat of silence, you cup his cheek delicately and say, “Let’s go to the moon.”

“Yeah,” he grins, “Let’s go to the moon.”

xv.

He leans over and presses a kiss to your temple, setting a bottle of water in front of you.

Jisung gags from across the room. “Get a room,” he complains.

“You are a grown man and you can’t handle a couple being affectionate?” Changbin criticizes. “Get a life, dude.”

“Yeah,” you chime in, “Just ‘cos you live a poor, single life doesn’t mean you can hate on us.”

“Jeez, I didn’t sign up for slander on this Monday morning.”

“You definitely asked for it, but let’s get to work.” Chan draws his phone from his pocket and prepares for the official meeting regarding 3Racha’s next comeback.

God’s Menu was well received from the public, sending Chan’s dating scandal into the shadows. Minho basked in the compliments on the choreography. Seungmin whined when no one on Twitter noticed he was the vocal coach—and Minho didn’t make it much better by rubbing his glory in Seungmin’s face every chance he got. And you couldn’t get Chan to stop showing you funny Tweets and praise for nearly a month. Likely longer.

Here you sit in Chan’s office at the beginning of the new year. A lot of things can go south during six months, but things can shoot north too. Generally, for you, it’s been pretty north.

This time around, Jisung has calculated his homework and broadcasts his thoughts onto the wall.

“I already know what you’re gonna choose for the title track, so let’s choose B-sides,” he adds the disclaimer before anyone can mutter a peep.

“I don’t know about you all,” Chan dips his hands into the pockets of his trousers and leans against his desk, “but I’d say I’m pretty confident in writing a love song right now.”

You groan alongside Jisung. “Stop talking.”

Here we go on the hunt for the song of the new year. Conquer the competition before anyone has a chance. Like you did in creating the song of the summer.

[nakamoto-aesthetics]

Guardian Angel | Johnny

synopsis: on the way from a friends house you bump into a man who was trying to harm you but luckily a guy named johnny saves you before you were taken. from there you get to know him a bit and things get… interesting. (the synopsis makes the story sound boing but i promise it’s not :)

pairing: johnny suh x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff, a lil smut

warning: something similar to human trafficking in the beginning (if you’re sensitive to that topic please don’t read this fic), heavy make out shesh, not proofread!, other than that there’s nothing i can think of

a/n: also remember that this is a FIC and not real life, please don’t welcome strangers into your home :))

word count: 4.1k

“where do you think you’re going in that cute little dress baby?” an unfamiliar voice is heard as you walk down the fairly dark street. you don’t say anything and continue to walk not paying any attention to the voice. there was no one else really around, barely any cars passing by, let alone people.

“I asked you a question, I expect an answer” the tone was firm, his footsteps getting faster and so do yours. you hurriedly pull out your phone, quickly forming a plan that involved some of your friends but that all crashed and burned once you saw the dead battery flashing on the screen. your heart sink and tears instantly pooled in your eyes, threatening to fall from your eyes. that was your only escape, what were you gonna do now?

you were just trying to get home that was all. maybe you should’ve let your friend drive you home but you didn’t because you didn’t want to cause your friend an inconvenience. you were beginning to regret that decision, all because of that small reason. at least you would’ve been home safe and sound but no, you decided to be the unselfish and independent person you are, and look where it got you.

“hey!” a hand grips your shoulder from behind and swings you around. “I asked you a question when I ask a question I expect an answer” the guy wasn’t a foreigner, he was most definitely korean. he seemed to be in his mid-30s, the age definitely showed. there were creases and wrinkles in some areas of his face and his clothes were all black including his shoes. you try to pull away from the grip but he only grips your shoulder harder, hurting you more than you would like to admit.

“maybe I need to refresh your short memory,” the guy chuckles lowly, his finger shifting your head up to meet his eyes. “where are you going in that cute little dress?” his eyes looked you up and down, his free hand gliding down your waist, slowly traveling to your ass. your face stayed straight the entire time even while tears fell down your face. you knew who had the upper hand power in the situation, you knew there was little you could do even if you didn’t dare say it aloud.

“still not talking? well maybe I should force it out of you huh?” he tilts his head. no, because the whole time you were creating a plan b in your head since plan a failed. there was no way you were going to allow yourself to be trafficked.

“well then, you made this choice for yourself. i’m sorry to do this sweetheart” his hands grope your ass and that's when you strike. you move your leg up to kick him in the balls but he’s faster than you, grabbing ahold of your leg before it collided with his area.

“is that what you were doing this whole time, creating that wack-ass plan? you didn’t think i’d see it coming that’s so cute,” he fake coos. “i’ve been doing this longer than you, i’m smarter and faster than you love” he throws down your leg and in the blink of an eye, you are turned around in his grip with an arm around your neck. your hand flies to his arm and you pull on it, not wanting to be choked to death.

“is there a problem over here miss?” another unfamiliar voice calls, making both you and the guy look over to where it came from. it was a tall guy with light brown hair. he had tan skin and different pieces of clothing put together that oddly worked. his eyes were a soft brown, not too harsh. he was… kinda cute if you were being honest. he was also In the process of taking his headphones out of his ears, for what reason? you didn’t know.

“there’s no problem here, keep on walking buddy” the male answered for you.

“I asked the lady not you” the new stranger spoke harshly to the trafficker and look at you once again. “are you okay?” he knitted his eyebrows. your eyes caught his, filling with tears, threatening to spill from your eyes. he nodded softly understanding how you were feeling through your eyes. he then looked at the male behind you.

“let her go, I don’t wanna hurt you” he said firmly.

“oh yeah, what can you do?” he looks him up and down and laughs at the guy, walking back to his original place, which was a block or two away.

“Im can do a lot” the stranger walks in front of you and the guy, making you both stop once again.

“listen man, this is my girlfriend. we’re just having a little disagreement aren’t we honey?” the guy tightens his hold around your neck. you open your mouth trying to suck in more air but his hold gets tighter. you tap on his arm in hopes that he’ll release you but he doesn’t. there was no way you were gonna agree with him.

the stranger doesn’t think furthermore and before either of you knew it, your head was being moved out the way carefully and a punch was thrown at the guy's face. you heard a crack of a bone and quickly moved away from the area, running out the man's hold.

it was like an action movie, the man was the villain and the stranger was the hero, and you were the one in need of help. the fight ended with the stranger still standing and the man now on the floor. he wasn’t moving but his chest was still rising and falling. he wasn’t dead although you weren’t sure what was gonna happen in the next few minutes but you weren’t gonna find out either.

“are you okay?” the stranger rushes over to you, sliding off his jacket and handing it to you.

“that won’t be necessary” you chuckle and wave your hand at his jacket.

“please, I insist” he places the jacket around you, not wanted to make you feel uncomfortable by touching you.

“thank you” you look down and smile softly.

“it’s no problem, I could never just walk by if I saw something like that” he smiles gently. “do you want me to walk you home? you know, to make sure you get there safe?”

“uhh… why not” you smile and begin to walk in the direction, he comes up beside you and walks along with you.

you pulled his jacket closer to your body for warmth as you kept your eyes glued to the sidewalk, scarred by what had just happened. you’ve never experienced something that traumatic before. you could’ve been snatched up a while ago if it hadn’t been for the guy walking beside you right now.

“thank you” your voice was quiet in a way it had never been before.

“anytime” he glances over to you, seeing your small frame wrapped in his jacket.

“I really do mean it, if you wouldn’t have been there I don’t know what I would've done”

“yeah, i’m glad I was there too. it hurts me to see things like that happen” he shakes his head. “I wish I could protect everyone around the world,” he breathily laughs. “that’s probably why I want to be a police officer” your ears perked up when you heard that. you looked up at him with surprised eyes and he looked at you nodding his head.

“it’s always been a dream of mine ever since I was a kid. when I read my first comic book I loved everything about it, I knew I wanted to be some kind of hero after that. I wanted my parents to buy me every single superhero costume so then I could feel like that character, with all the powers and stuff.” you breathily laugh at that, he notices and laughs with you. “anyways that’s enough about me, I wanna know about you” he looks attentively to you.

the conversation continues until you got home. you learned that his name was johnny and that he was 25. he grew up in his hometown chicago but his parents are both korean, and he moved to seoul for better job opportunities. you gotta admit, the guy was interesting and you wanted to know more about him, you thought he was pretty cool.

“so… this is it?” johnny stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks up at the house.

“yep” you look at the house and back to him. it got quiet for a few seconds, neither of you wanted to say bye to each other. johnny wanted to get to know you more and you wanted to know him more also.

“listen, I don’t know if the feeling is mutual but I wanna talk to you some more so how about this, I give my number and you get to choose if you want to text me” he offers and you instantly take it up. he smiles softly and enters his number in your phone. once you receive it back you see the name option blank.

“you’re not gonna name yourself?” you cock your eyebrow at him and he lightheartedly chuckles.

“I want you to have free will and set it as whatever you want. I want you to always feel like you have a choice when you're with me y/n” a smile was blatant on his face, allowing the corners of your mouth to pull up also.

“well thank you very much johnny,” you say, staring into his eyes, which seemed to catch the light from the streetlights in a way you’d never seen before. would it be weird to say that you wanted to get to know the sweet guy in front of you more?

“um.. i guess i should get going, it was nice meeting you y/n” his hypnotizing but kind eyes still staring into your soul. you never wanted to part away from them, from him. johnny was captivating, too captivating to let slip through your fingers.

“it was nice meeting you too. see you later johnny” you dismiss him yet his feet don’t move, they stay in place and so does he, looking at you with eyes of fondness. this continues for about a minute before you break the silence/slight sexual tension.

“uh- actually, do you wanna come in? i’m not going to sleep right away, honestly might have some trouble falling asleep” you shake your head, looking down and pretend to find your nails interesting.

“a-are you sure? i wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable-” he seems caught off guard by your words, obviously snapping him out of whatever trance he was in.

“not at all, now come on. i’ll put on a movie and get some food and drinks. it’ll be good” you smile brightly, grabbing his hand without thinking and taking him up to your front door. you unlock it quickly and turn on the lights, stepping into your clean house.

“this is a very nice environment you have y/n” he looks around staying still in his place, nodding his head, seeming genuinely impressed with it.

“thank you, it took a bit of work to get to this point” you chuckle, taking off your shoes and then his jacket. “oh, here you go” you hold the piece of heavy fabric out to him. he utters a ‘thanks’ once he sees it and takes it.

“you can put your shoes there” you point to the shoe rack beside to door. “and your jacket can go there” you point to the coat racket right next to the shoe rack. he doesn’t say anything and does as you say.

“now make yourself comfortable i’ll be right back” you point to the couch and then walk away but not before you caught his eyes. damn those eyes..

“now why did she do that? i swear horror movie characters are so fucking dumb” you roll your eyes and johnny laughs, agreeing with you.

“i mean what would you do in her position” you look at him. the light from the tv illuminating him perfectly. it was dark everywhere else so the only light you had was from the tv.

“i would’ve saved the friend and then booked it not stand there like an idiot waiting for someone to kill me” he looked at you right back, giving you that same look from earlier but his eyes were a bit brighter, filled with joy.

“exactly! so why can’t she do the same?” you sigh.

“y/n it’s just a movie” he chuckles.

“i know, i know but they really irritate me yk? like why stand there knowing damn well a killer is in the house with you i mean it’s-“

“alright it’s time to turn this off” he backs out of the movie, returning to the netflix screen where you started.

“hey!” you look at him with confused eyes.

“you were way too into it, it‘s not good for your blood pressure.” he says and looks at the tv, going through the comedy section.

you kept your eyes on him watching the way his eyes watch the screen attentively. you nibble on your lip, beginning to get lost in your thoughts. he could be your friend, best friend, boyfriend... husband- too far y/n, too far. you just met the guy but you felt like you’ve known him for a long time. you could see him being a potential boyfriend honestly. it’s been a while since you’ve had a boyfriend, really only focused on work. it wouldn’t be a bad idea. johnny seemed nice and he was interesting in a way nobody has been before, you could stay up talking to him and it wouldn’t get boring ever. what if you guys-

“y/n?” his head turns toward you and he catches you staring back at him with your lip between your teeth. he smiles softly and that’s when you are dragged out of your thoughts.

“here” you say out of nowhere making johnny laugh harder than before, his head is thrown back and his eyes are closed, filling the atmosphere with his beautiful laughs. meanwhile, you sat there a little confused and startled, blinking multiple times.

“huh?” you furrow your eyebrows.

“nothing” he waves his hands continuing to laugh.

“yah!” you hit his arm playfully. “i was lost in my thoughts im sorry” you look down feeling your cheeks heat up.

“while staring at me? what were you thinking about?” he says after his laughter dies down.

“uh.. nothing important, what did you pick?” you look at the tv trying to change the subject and you’re thankful that it works.

“that was a great movie, what’d you think?” johnny looks over to you and you nod tiredly, letting out a yawn. “oh somebody’s tired” he says and you don’t know if it was because you were tired but you thought it was cute.

“i enjoyed it and yes i am tired” you lazily chuckle and rub your face.

“alright, i’ll leave-“ he goes to stand up.

“no-“ you say abruptly and grab his wrist and his eyes shift down to your hold on him. “i mean… no you don’t have to, it’s late and i don’t want you going home at this time of night” you checked your phone with your free hand, completely forgetting about your grip on his wrist.

‘4:08 am’

“damn it’s four already?” your eyes bulge out your head and look up at him, his eyes still watching the way your skin was touching his. “you mister aren’t going anywhere, wouldn’t want anything to happen to you” you move closer to him and he notices this. you take your hand off his wrist and interlock your arms, resting your head on his shoulder. maybe it was the sleepiness that put you in this position but you didn’t mind it one bit, too tired to care.

he seemed surprised tensing up almost immediately but relaxing once he realized what was really happening. you were like the little bear that found comfort in the big bear. johnny brushed the extra pieces of hair out the way, how was it that he’d just met you but he felt so connected to you as if you were a lifelong friend he hadn’t seen in a long time. he didn’t under but at the same time, he didn’t want to understand it. he’d rather just let whatever this was flow at its own pace.

“do you think we’re moving too fast?” you say out of nowhere, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“i was just thinking about that and i think we should just let it happen naturally. whatever happens, happens” he says in a sweet voice and caresses your arm gently with his free hand. “if it feels right then act on it right? anyways, that’s the motto”

you move your head to look up at him and nod, intending to catch his eyes and you do. you’re only inches away from each other’s faces, eyes shifting from his eyes to his lips and so do his before either of you knew it your lips collided. johnny holding your jaw between his index and thumb. you wrap your hands around his neck and sit up slowly shifting onto his lap. your heart began to race as you kissed him deeper, johnny too, feeling his heart pumping with adrenaline, moving his hands down to your waist and gripping it. you moan softly against his lips as his hands travel inside your shirt. he felt like pure ecstasy against you. his touch, his lips, his words, everything him felt so good with you.

his hands then slid down to your hips and he gripped them, continuing to kiss you like no tomorrow. he pulls away from your lips, you following his lips for more, and he chuckles; before you knew it his lips were on your neck, pressing soft kisses to it making you moan softly. when his lips found your sweet spot he attacked it, leaving a dark red hickey in that place. you began to move your hips against his, hungry for some type of stimulation down there. his hands fly to your hips and he rests his head in the crook of your neck, letting out soft grunts.

you bite your lip and pull him up to kiss his neck, one of his hands rest on your shoulder. once you find his sweet spot you do as he did and leave a dark red hickey. you pull back and look at it proudly.

“an eye for an eye” you wink at him.

“yeah, yeah” he smiles and pulls your face closer, kissing you again, this time using a bit of tongue. you moan instantly, letting him win and he explores your mouth as your hands glide down his chest, you could feel all of the contours and lines of his muscles and abs, letting you know he was fit. which only made him sexier. your hands slip under his shirt and you explore the area. he was too hot for you to handle, you could pounce on him again even though you kind of already pounced on him. he’s just too hot.

you pulled away abruptly and he looked at you with a confused expression. you smirked and stood up, him still looking at you, obviously confused. he reached for your wrist but you pulled it away and before he could say anything, with the help of his thighs you got on your knees. his confused expression was now gone as he watched the scene unfold, his jeans were so tight against him and you knew that. his hard-on wasn’t small either, it was actually pretty big, you could still see his print though it was dark and you wanted to help him out so you teased him by gliding your fingers up his thighs and then teased his dick by running your finger up and down his hard-on.

“stop t-teasing” he breathily moans, watching your every move.

you smirked, looking up at him and unzipped his jeans.

did you guys fuck? no. just oral sex, that was all you guys agreed to. johnny thought it would be a bad idea to have sex during the initial meet. he said it would be best to give it at least a few weeks. he truly did wanna get to know you some more as did you and that’s why you were okay with not going that far.

you slept in your room after you guys were done giving each other head. you’d given him a blanket to sleep with and a comfortable pillow instead of making him use one of the uncomfortable decor ones on your couch.

“thank you johnny,” you said as he grabbed his coat. you let him stay for breakfast, that you and him cooked together. (he wasn’t going to let you cook it by yourself)

“for what? i should be thanking you. i had fun” he says as he puts his coat on.

“because i had fun too. the most i’ve had in a long time so thank you for that”

“it’s nothing really, i’m glad i could reflect some light on” he laughs and slips his shoes on.

“i hope we could do that again” you hint your fondness toward him.

“of course we can you just gotta let me know. i’m always free” he looks at you with that look once again and you can’t help but let it slip out.

“why do you keep looking at me like that, you’ve been giving me the same look since you met me” you say softly so then it doesn’t one out harsh and you know it doesn’t when he responds.

“because...” he moves closer to you which makes your heart skip a beat. “i actually like you y/n, and i mean it. you’re so different from other girls i’ve met. i’m not just another handsome guy to you. you take an interest in the things i say and the stories i tell you, not many girls do and i thank you for that alone. thank you for listening to me.” he moves even closer to you, grabbing your hands which makes your heart begin to race. “so when i look at you like this, i’m thanking you.” he doesn’t say anything after that continuing to stare deeply into your eyes.

you felt so drunk in the moment, hypnotized by his eyes and soft words. you could already feel how head over heels you were gonna be for this guy, that's if you guys kept it up, which you think you will. the chemistry was way too strong for either of you to let go of.

“thank you” you whisper and he nods gently not breaking eye contact. “you should get going, i wouldn’t want you to be late for work. you still gotta get home in time to change out of these clothes... do you need a ride or?”

“kind of... only if it’s not too much trouble” he answers.

“of course it’s not, come on” you quickly get your stuff on and take him home.

“this is it” he says and you stop the car once you’re in front of the house.

“okay, i’ll see you later” you look over to him and he’s already looking at you. nothing happens for a few seconds but then johnny leans over to you and kisses you. you sigh into the kiss and grab ahold of his neck and kiss him back as his hand rests on your neck, he kisses you just as deep as last night but before anything serious happens he pulls away and lets a ‘text me’ roll of his tongue before he exits the vehicle and walks to his front door, unlocking it and walking inside. all without looking back.

you however, were in complete awe. he kissed you like that and then left. damn was he a good kisser, you could still feel the sensation of his lips on yours even after he was gone. you touched your lips and then smiled, pulling off.

bonus: later that day; the evening

you decide to pick up your phone and do exactly what he said earlier.

you: what was that all about earlier? - y/n

johnny🥰😫: so you decided to finally text me😊

johnny🥰😫: and what was what about👀

you: you know what i talking about. the kiss in the car

johnny🥰😫: you know, it was just a see you later kiss

you: mhm, okay mr. suh

johnny🥰😫: what?😂

you: imma give your ass a ‘see you later’ kiss and then walk away. see how it makes you feel

johnny🥰😫: bring it on then sexy, let’s see what you got

you: oh i’ll show you what i got👀

johnny🥰😫: are we still talking about kissing?😳

you: maybe, maybe not🤷‍♀️👀

NCT Masterlist

[entishramblings]

It’s Not That Bad [Legolas X Reader]

A.N: I’m so sorry I have not been writing as often. I’ve had zero time. But anyWaYS...here is a fic that has been requested by someone who has always been into my writing so thank you for supporting me and here is a fic for you! Additionally, I did some research on herbs and stuff so I could make this at least a little accurate!

Request: @quilledinkpen — Hellooo i hope you're having a good day ^-^ I was wondering if I could request a Legolas x reader? Something like she's travelling with the fellowship and is kinda the unspoken "mom" of the group, like she's always doing her best to make sure everyone's safe, and reminding Pippin and Merry to be careful and stuff like that. Just an all-around motherly person lol (mainly to the Hobbits bc they're her babies but she looks after the other guys too) I think it'd be cute ^^ Thank you!

Pairing: Legolas X Reader

Summary: (Y/N), a healer, travels with the fellowship. She takes care of everyone and is basically “the mom friend.”

Word Count: 2, 510

Warnings: battle wounds that are kinda graphicish?

(gif not mine)

MASTERLIST

(Y/N) was a well known healer throughout all of Arda. Many traveled to her for treatment for life threatening ailments. But now, now it was her time to travel throughout the lands of Middle Earth in search of a salvation for all. A gruesome quest to destroy the evil ring of power had begun and someone well versed in natural apothecary was needed. (Y/N), of course, volunteered for this role for there was no one better suited than her. Besides, it was her duty to contribute to the survival of this world as she was one in it and relied heavily on what the earth produced. And if Sauron was to rule.....well, we all know where that would lead: no earth, no life, just darkness.

(Y/N) ruffled through her dark-brown leather satchel as she sifted through her healing herbs. Little pouches filled with athelas leaves, echinacea stalks, alder bark, valerian roots, and more piled inside the confinements of the fabric.

“Sam,” She called out. “Would you mind making hot tea for Frodo while I take care of Strider’s cut?”

The little hobbit ran over instantly and she passed him a couple pouches naming each one out loud, “Valerian root, dried chamomile pedals, and sycamore bark.” She then lowered her voice and leaned it, for it wasn’t anyone else’s business to hear. “It will help him sleep and deter the anxieties the ring bestows upon him.”

Sam nodded quickly and set to work as (Y/N) moved towards Aragorn who sat upon a large rock.

“Let me have a look.”

The dunedain rolled his eyes, “(Y/N), it is not that bad. Just a scratch.”

The young women sighed in annoyance and pulled up his sleeve to reveal a slash across his bicep. He was right—to an extent—it wasn’t terrible. He would not need stitches. However, it did need to be cleaned and wrapped for infections were nasty things.

(Y/N) started by pouring some alcohol over the wound; receiving a harsh hiss from the dunedain in response. She muttered a quick apology before continuing. The young woman ground athelas leaves into a fine paste and expertly smeared it onto the cut. She then unrolled gauze and placed it upon the wound. Lastly, she pulled white dressings from her satchel. She gingerly wrapped it around his arm, yet she was careful to still pull it taught as the goal was to keep the athelas paste in and bacteria out.

She stood up and brushed her hands off before placing them firmly on her hips. “See Strider, it takes only a couple minute.”

He grumbled at her comment but thanked her for the medical attention.

(Y/N) nodded quickly and went to check on the rest of the fellowship. She made her way to Boromir who was also sitting in rest. She put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Boromir, how are you doing? Any wounds?”

He seemed slightly startled at first for his mind had been elsewhere, but he looked up at her with a soft smile.

“I’m quite alright, My Lady.”

A light chuckled escaped her lips. “My friend, how many times must I tell you? It’s (Y/N), no lady of any sorts!”

He shook his head and grinned at her, “Well, my lady, I am doing quite fine.”

She let her eyes circle into the back of her head as the corner of her lip pulled into a smirk.

The healer turned and made her way to Gimli who was sharpening his axe.

“Gimli, I trust you are alright as I see you are already preparing for the next battle even though we just endured one.”

His gruff voice answered immediately, “Aye lassie! Those orcs can’t ensnare a dwarf that easily!!”

She laughed at his comment as Merry and Pippin came rushing up to her. As soon as she saw their faces she knew that the two mischievous hobbits wanted to claim her attention. She lowered herself down to their height as they flung themselves into her arms.

“Ahh my two hobbits! How did you fare in the battle?”

They pulled from her hug and began speaking at the same time.

“It was intensely scary but we were fierce!”

“Merry had hit one with a tree branch! It was quite magnificent!”

“Yes it was, I would have to admit! And Pip tripped another and he fell flat on his face!”

(Y/N) beamed at the two and giggled at their attempt to tell the story. As much as she was focused on caring for everyone, the hobbits cared for her—in another way that is. The four of them brought joy to her heart and glee to her spirit. Their innocence and appreciation of the simplest things brought happiness to her soul. They had offered her a welcomed visit to the shire at any time; telling her of the grand tour they would take her on. She had grown to look upon them as children for their smallness and way of perceiving life was similar so.

The two scampered off quickly, most likely to share their adrenaline filled story with Boromir, while (Y/N) did a final scan of the fellowship.

Her eyes soon rested on the elf. Legolas was off to a distance standing upon the rocky tundra. Something about his posture made her frown. His back was to her and his head seemed bowed, as if he was looking down at something. Furthermore, his one arm was pulled up at an awkward angle—strange, even for the elf. As the healer that she was, she was compelled to check on him.

(Y/N) weaved through the rocks until she was only a short distance from him.

“Legolas?” She questioned softly.

He immediately whipped around. His shirt fell to cover his form, but not before (Y/N) caught a glimpse of bright purple, red, and black. The young woman’s lips instantly parted in shock. She had seen many wounds in her life, on many people of many different races. However, it was not often that she had an elven patient with a wound like that. To state it simply, (Y/N) was worried—that looked bad, very bad. Legolas on the other hand was only flustered for he, an elf, had gotten snuck up on. He did not have great concern for the injury given that there were far more important things to worry about.

“Legolas,” (Y/N) stated firmly. “Lift your shirt.”

He sighed, “(Y/N), it’s not—“

She interrupted him, “Let me guess, ‘It’s not that bad?’” She shook her head, “You and Strider.”

She stepped forward and took the hem of his shirt in her hand. She cautiously lifted the fabric, not caring about the socially deemed scandalousness of the action—she was a healer after all.

(Y/N) sucked in a breath. A relatively large bruise stretched across his torso with a sizable cut in the center of it.

“By the Valar, Legolas!” She exclaimed with exasperation. “You should have come to me straight away!”

“(YN)—“

She cut him off again, “No. don’t ‘(Y/N)’ me. This is serious. It could be internal bleeding. I don’t care that you are an immortal elf, you can still die from this.”

The healer gently let her fingertips brush against his skin, tracing and examining the injury. He winced in pain at the contact and that did not escape (Y/N)’s attention.

“How did this happen exactly? I need every detail.”

Legolas groaned again when she grazed over the cut; and when he spoke it was with heavy breaths, “A harsh kick to the side into another orc....” (Y/N) hand pressed on the bleeding laceration and he hissed in pain before continuing to speak. “...who—who slashed downward.....with a jagged-edged blade that had a—a curved tip.

(Y/N) looked up at him with concern, his breathing was getting labored and that was not a good sign. Not a good sign at all.

“Alright, come on.” She ordered. The young woman practically dragged the reluctant elf back towards the group and pushed him down on a rock.

She knelt in front of him and, once again, ruffled through her satchel.

“Take your tunic off,” she commanded while pulling out various pouches and gauze dressings.

(Y/N) could feel all of the fellowships’ gazes on the two, which only intensified when Legolas removed his tunic. She could hear the hobbit’s hushed whispers and concerned tones for the wound was gruesome and ugly—probably the worst they have ever seen considering their simple lives.

Once she had all her supplies ready, she set to work.

(Y/N) was kneeling in-between Legolas’s legs while she studied the torn up, bloody, and bruised fresh for yet another time; it was imperative that she made a plan before starting.

During this examination, the young woman could not help but let her eyes wander across his chest and rippling muscles. The bends and curves of his form looked perfect against his pale complexion. He was incredibly toned and well built, even more so than humans. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t attracted to him.

Additionally, battle scars of various shapes and sizes littered his body—which was expected given he was over 2,000 years old. Here, she took a moment to study them for if one really looked at a warriors scars their fighting style would be revealed. Many stretched across his being—specifically on his ribcage, sides, pecs, and abs—it was clear that he was way more reckless than he would like people to think. He was fast with his moves, going for the quickest way to an oppenent’s death, but that often left him exposed. No wonder he ended up with this terrible bruising gash. He lived up to the Mirkwood elf expectation—less wise and more fierce.

As (Y/N) realized that her mind had wandered too far off task, she cleared her throat and reached for the flask of liquor.

“This will sting,” she stated before pouring it over the broken flesh. As expected, a loud groan escaped his lips and his fists clenched around nothingness.

Carefully she dabbed the area with a cloth. (Y/N) then threaded a needle and began to sew his skin back together. The elf was stiff as he clenched his jaw and flexed his muscles—a natural reflex in this kind of situation. She continued to pull his skin taught so their was no more breakthrough bleeding. It seemed that he had gotten used to the sensation as she went given he began to relax. Next, she made a paste for the wound, much like Strider’s. However, she decided to use more than athelas leaves because this cut was more severe than the Ranger’s. (Y/N) ground up echinacea stalks and mixed in alder bark to soothe inflammation and fight infection. Gently she applied the blended mixture into his torso. Lastly, she wound gauze and dressings around his midsection in order to keep everything in place.

Much time had past given stitches took long; luckily, the fellowships’ concerned glances faded.

(Y/N) stood up from her position and it was then when she released just how close the two were. She stood between his legs, their faces inches apart. If it was anyone else, she wouldn’t have cared for she often had to be in such proximities with others as she was a healer. But this wasn’t anyone else, it was him.

“You—you should be fine now,” (Y/N) whispered. She cleared her throat and stepped backwards. “I will have to check on it every day and redo the bandages. And I advise you: no sudden movements, and no lifting heavy objects—like the hobbits.”

Legolas cracked a smile at that last comment. “Thank you, (Y/N). I truly appreciate your skill.”

“That is what I’m here for, is it not?” She adverted her eyes and kept her hands busy by gathering her supplies for she feared her expression would betray her.

Legolas put his tunic back on as he spoke, “I suppose it is, but nethertheless I thank you.”

......

As the days went on she continued to check Legolas’s wound. (Y/N) tried to make it more private by dragging him off to the side or away from the group, given that she suspected it was uncomfortable for him to undress everyday in front of inquiring eyes (aka the hobbits).

It was dusk when she crouched down to examine it once again.

“It is healing nicely,” She said. “A lot faster than I suspected, but I suppose that is because you are elven.” Her nervousness caused her to continue speaking when she did not wish to do so. “I mainly treat men....and dwarves. It is not often that I have a wounded elf at my door. Do you know an elf named Feren? I recall he said he was of Mirkwood Kin. I treated him once years ago for a busted leg when he strayed into northern territories.”

A small smirk crossed Legolas’s face, “Ahh so you are the beautiful healer who patched him up so well?”

(Y/N) felt heat creep up her face, “I—I would not say that—“

“Nonsense! He spoke of your beauty and skill many times, and he was not mistaken. I am just surprised that I have been lucky enough to gaze upon you and have you heal me.”

These words made (Y/N)’s gauze wrapping motions falter. “It—it is my job, Legolas.”

“Yet you go beyond your assignment and duty everyday. I see how you take care of us all, especially the hobbits. You truly have a noble heart.”

(Y/N) smiled softly and spoke in a teasing tone, “Well I suppose you are right—all you boys would be lost without me.”

A deep chuckled hummed in Legolas’s chest and the healer joined in with a bright laugh.

The giggles settled soon enough and Legolas spoke, his sentence quite abrupt. “How would you feel about coming to Mirkwood and living there as a healer once the ring is destroyed?”

Shocked, (Y/N) stuttered. “I—I am unsure. I don’t know if—“

“(Y/N)...” He interrupted. “I do not wish for the end of this journey to be the end of our acquaintance.”

The young woman looked down, “As I agree, but—“

“(Y/N),” he whispered.

Something about his tone made her freeze.

Ever so gently, he lifted her chin to force her to look at him. His voice was quiet as he spoke, “I—I don’t think you understand what I am trying to convey.”

Oh....

Now she understood.

The healer glanced at his lips which hovered near her own before biting her bottom one and locking gazes with him. Legolas of course noticed this and waisted no time. He pressed his mouth against hers and she instantly responded. Her hands slid up his bare chest, careful to avoid the wound on his torso, and then tangled themselves in his blonde locks. His muscular arms wrapped around her waist tightly as he focused on the taste of mint tea and fresh honey. The two moved their lips in sync and the world around them melted away. Suddenly, there was no quest, no fellowship, no responsibilities—only the two of them and the thudding of their hearts.

.......

Everything Tag: @sokkasdarling @scxundress @quilledinkpen @hufflepuffinblr @lea----b @aredhel-of-gondolin @princecami @the-fandoms-georgie @jazziwritestolkienprimary @wellfuckmyexistence

Legolas tag: @dark-angel-is-back

If you want to be tagged lmk!

[diaco1968]

Teeth

Hawks x reader

Warnings! Nsfw/lemon/smut, biting, hairpulling, oral sex, unprotected vaginal sex no pull outs... He has exogenous zone between his wings...he can go feral... can't convince me otherwise... reader quirk works by getting saliva/venom on the victim. Long

~fight so dirty but you love so sweet~

When a hawk hunts it's first ever viper, sweeping in, catching the clueless creature and taking it back to the sky, it can go any of 3 ways. He's either succesful in incapacitating the viper and can feast on his prey later. Or the viper manages to land a venomous bite on him, in which case they fall to their doom. Now if they don't die from the fall, the viper is the one feasting on the paralyzed young hawk. Nature is a wild thing indeed with how fast the hunter can turn into the prey.

The first time he met you he was on his way somewhere else and he spotted you in a dead end , the only thing running through his mind was 'what a hassle.' His wings shuddering in agitation, the feathers ruffling noisily when he landed behind you in the dead end where you were toying with your paralyzed victim. A middle aged man whom you just mugged and was now making fun of as he could do nothing but watch you, standing there like a stone statue.

"That is not really fair is it, kid?" You turned around slowly and gracefully locking eyes with him "can't be any less fair than following and harassing an innocent little girl in a dead end. He picked the wrong person. Now he pays little price than he deserves, Birdie." You mocked back crossing your arms and taking a nonchalant pose. Though he could tell just how tense and ready to jump you were under that posture. Like a coiled snake. So that was the problem, now he knew why his nerves were on fire when he spotted you. He raised an eyebrow "you don't strike me as an innocent little girl though." You smiled sweetly as you freed the guy from your paralysis who stumbled and scrambled away and out of sight apologizing. "So what? That's what you're into, hero? Innocent little girls? Please." You emptied the content of the man's wallet right in front of Hawks and put it in your back pocket before throwing the wallet to the side. Looking up at his annoyed expression playfully keeping your smile. "Alright! That's it. You're coming with me for theft." You raised your hands in front of you submissively as if ready to get cuffed "oh no, he gonna chain me up." He wasn't amused as he stepped forward grabbing your shoulder to turn you around. That's when in a heartbeat you striked, pushing him off towards the wall and stepped back from him. You were fast, but so was he blocking your way when you tried to make a run for it "nice try. That all you got?" He said casually squeezing his shoulder where you hit but you could tell he was slightly distressed by your speed. "Oh you should not have said that." You grinned raising your hand that was holding one of his crimson feathers between your thumb and forefinger firmly but delicately. "It's okay, I can grow more of those, don't worry about it." He smirked walking back towards you. His smirk was easy to like. It was not like yours, it was calming. You ignored his comment as you brought the feather up to your lips, his steps faltered and came to a halt watching you intently. Your tongue darted out and licked up the side of it, sucking it into your mouth and pulling it out, making a show of it for the winged hero, loving the way his feathers fluttered and shuddered in response "oh, and that's what you are into, huh?" He said trying to sound sarcastic but as intrigued as he was it sounded like a genuine question. He wanted to know what the hell you were doing. You chuckled dropping the feather and stalking towards him. The feather fell limp to the floor much to his surprise. But he was in for a much bigger surprise. When you were only inches away from him, he went to grab you. And he couldn't. He couldn't move a single muscle below his neck. "What the... how did you-" he fell quiet inspecting you as you let your hands wander under his coat and ran your fingers up over his abs, over muscles that were prominent through his skin tight suit before reaching up and grabbing his shoulders to use as leverage and pull yourself up to his ear. "You're lucky I like you, cause if not, this is still not 'all I've got'." You repeated his phrase from earlier your tongue lightly brushing over the shell of his ear, enjoying the way he tensed up even more under your touch. "Okay... I really should not have said that I guess..." he scoffed and You moved your lips to his shoulder sliding his coat off only a little "too late." You sunk your teeth in his shoulder through suit and all making a loud hiss escape his lips. His smart mouth wasn't going to quit it though "ow, that's definitely going to leave a mark. what a kinky little thing you are." You chuckled fixing his coat up and stepping back, turning on your heels to leave "you can move again soon, see you around hero." And with that you were gone."Damnit..."

~call me in the morning to apologise, every little lie gives me butterflies~

It was truly a hassle explaining to the nurse who patched him up that it was just a cat that bit him, right on the shoulder, clean and no bleeding. Only a little less bothersome than admitting his embarassing defeat. He hadn't seen you since, and it's been two weeks. During which the clear set of teeth marks on his shoulder remained, unchanged, as if only just bitten into his skin moments ago. He couldn't dig up anything about you, and damn he tried, knowing his resolve and resources it was saying something. No one had heard of you. Were you even a villain? "Tsk." He traced his fingers over the mark as he craned his neck to look at it in the mirror before sticking the bandage back over it, covering it up with his shirt. Not a moment of his days went by without having you in somewhere in his mind, taunting him, haunting him... and what annoyed him was that it did not ALL relate to his embarassing paralysis in that dead end. He imagined and thought about you way more than just that. He headed out on his day off, to the bar, definitely for gathering info. Of course.

He stepped off into the cold night air and looked up at the sky, stiffening ever so slightly, invisible to the untrained eye. "Speak of the devil, ey?"

You pushed yourself off the wall where you were leaning against and approached him as he turned his head towards you, hands still in your pockets. "Aw, were you thinking about me? Do you happen to do it often?" You smirked, eyes trailing over his face to his shoulder where you've put your little art piece then back to his eyes. His eyes narrowed immediately, turning towards you and getting in your face "you did something to me didn't you?! I knew it!" He growled under his breath glaring at you realizing he had put his hand instinctively over his wounded shoulder to cover it. You put your hands up in the air as if surrendering and looked up at him sincerely, his wound started throbbing for some reason. "Yeah I did. But... I decided you probably don't deserve it. I mean... you were just doing your job. So. I've come to help you remove it." He blinked a few times looking at you unamused "riiight." You rolled your eyes "right!" He frowned and tilted his head to the side "...right? Really?" You groaned pushing him towards the door "ugh you're even more annoying than I remember. Let's go inside." He raised an eyebrow with a hand on the knob still uncertain of your intentions "do you usually invite yourself in people's house like that? Cause I'm not sure you're the type of gal I want to pick up and take home with me..." 'well ouch' He was right not to trust you but you didn't have all night "listen jerk, do you want to get rid of this or not?!" you hissed at him, and as you expected his feathers ruffled at the sound before you could even touch his shoulder. It was in his nature to find it threatening after all. It was kinda cute. He braced himself for you to be nasty and squeez his wound or something but your hand just lightly brushed over his coat, he barely even felt it "okay okay! Sheesh." He opened the door and stepped aside for you to get inside.

~talk so pretty but your heart got teeth~

"So what were you thinking about?" He was taken aback by the sudden question as he closed the door behind him turning to find you make yourself comfortable on the couch. Your question was out of the blue, yes, but it shouldn't have made his so distressed. "Nothing...?." He lied. You sighed "I can't help you like that." Silence filled the room as the two of you stared each other down before you decided to relent "look. The venom in the bite-" he gasped at the words "venom?!" You looked at him unfazed making him feel embarrassed by his own outbursts "sorry, do go on." He gestured for you to continue. "... the venome will eventually make you hallucinate. And it will remain there till you do as it tells you. So I need to know what you've been thinking about most. By the little time that has passed I don't think you are at the point of hallucination yet, yeah?" He was now more anxious about his thoughts by the things you just told him. "I don't hallucinate... do I just start hallucinating random things?... are you some kind of mobile LSD fairy or something?" He frowned at you for real this time making you sigh. "You hallucinate what you want and desire at the moment of the bite, I don't have control over it. So... yea I guess I am." You looked down and he immediately felt terrible "I didn't mean it like that... I just...sorry..." he had no idea why he was apologizing. You were the one who bit him. And he didn't recall you apologising even once so far. "It's fine, I understand." You looked back up at him and cocked an eyebrow "now that that's out the way, much like yourself I don't want to be here anymore than I need to. You can probably take care of the matter on your own from now on. Goodbye birdie." You got on your feet and walked for the door but just as you were going to pull it open his hand shot up from behind you and pushed it back closed. It was your turn to get anxious heart sinking and the hair on the back of your neck standing on end, he was looming over you from behind and you could feel his hot breath on the back of your neck and see the shadow of his wings spreading intimidatingly behind you both. "Actually, in that case, YOU are so not done here."

~Late night devil put your hands on me

And never never never ever let go~

"Uh..." you slowly turned around pushing yourself back against the wall and looking up at him to see the easy smirk from before back on his face, eyes half lidded, dripping with confidence "I don't... um... what do you m-mean?" He raised a hand and brushed a finger on the side of your jaw, stroking it lightly as he leaned in closer "it's you I was thinking about the whole god damned time. The way you'll look, they way you'll sound. The way you'll taste. You said you will help me fulfill my hallucinations." He looked down over your form taking his time as he did so before his eyes landed back on yours "do you still want to help me?" He was actually asking. Despite the way his voice faltered at the thought of getting rejected there was a choice in his question. You could refuse. But why would you? He was hot. Annoying. But still hot. "So you got to be on LSD to take girls like me home?" You scoffed crossing your arms over your chest, the way the shadow of his wings covered you making you uneasy. He smiled apologetically "in my defense, last time we met you assaulted me in a dead end, gal." You huffed "(y/n)." His smile brightened as he watched you intently "Keigo. So (y/n), what do you say?" You hummed looking thoughtfully, almost shamelessly down his form, raising a hand and barely brushed your fingers against his crotch before pressing them firmly to his abs and chest. His chest tightened in anticipation as he felt his stomach drop. Maybe it was just for now and how you were touching him, maybe it was for the way his wounded shoulder throbbed, knowing this was almost exactly what happened before he got bitten last time. "I don't know Keigo, I kinda get the feeling you actually like the bite. A lot." Your hand traced his shoulder now leaning up to kiss it softly from over his clothes, him inhaling in sharply "oh to hell with it, you make me want to give you more, birdie."

~don't know if you love me or you want me dead~

He walked you back towards the bed, hands cupping your cheeks on both sides, his lips locked on yours. His hands moved down the sides of your neck, slipping your shirt off to expose your shoulders and pushing you down so you sit on the bed, loving the way you were already panting breathlessly from his kiss, flushed. He pulled his shirt off still standing over you with his signature confident smirk, throwing it to the side. You smirked back as you leaned in pecking his abs before dragging your lips over them, looking at his eyes through your lashes as you moved down and mouthed over his crotch, making him shudder, watching as those same abs rippled ever so slightly. He ran his fingers through your hair letting out a shaky breath "I'm sorry if I don't trust those teeth anywhere around that area, baby girl. Plus you already know how I taste. It's my turn." You rolled your eyes leaning back on your arms behind you as he leaned in and pulled your pants off along with your panties "fine, birdie." Your blush darkening as it creeped to the tips of your ears. He huffed kicking off his jeans and kneeling in between your legs grabbing your thighs "it's Keigo." He gripped your legs and pulled you to the edge of the bed before you could retort, only managing to let out a gasp. He smirked releasing your legs when over his shoulders running his hands up over them, kissing your inner thighs, his stubble scratching lightly over your sensitive skin making you wriggle a bit. His hands grabbed your hips tightly pressing you firmly to the bed "oh no you don't." You looked down at him to whine quietly. A choice you immediately regretted. Holding eye contact he buried his face between your legs and plunged his tongue right in. You gasped arching your back, hands shooting up to grip his hair. He hummed delighted by your rich reaction, moving his face closer, nudging his nose against the sensitive bud, as his tongue switched between lapping up your juices and thrusting in through your soft, fluttering folds. You a whimpering writhing mess under him. The soles of your feet not too gently brushing against the base of his wings on his back, where they were connected through his skin, along with your fingers tangling and tugging his hair had him groaning and moaning deeply into you. He removed his tongue only to lick up a wet hot line up to your bud latching onto it and sucking just as two of his fingers pushed inside at once giving you no time in curling up and rubbing against the spot you wanted them to. "Shit! Kei-go!" You moaned loudly, your toes curled and your thighs squeezed his head as he chuckled pushing your hips down further on the bed with an arm over your belly, nails digging in your hip where they rested. The pleasure had you seeing white and Right as you were about to get tipped over the edge of your climax he stopped. His fingers and lips, all gone. "Pay back is a bitch, huh?" He wiped off his glistening wet face with his hand as You whined desperately and squeezed your legs shut when he removed them from his shoulders grinning at you "you jerk!"

He leaned over you grabbing your loose sweatshirt and pulling it over your head reaching behind you to unclip your bra as he kissed your neck "let's free these lovely things first." You huffed still annoyed but soon it started into contented sighs and quiet moans as his kisses and nips moved down to your chest. His teeth grabbed your nipple in a sharp nip and you mewled grabbing the back of his neck, your other hand moving lower between his wings. As your nails dug right in the spot between the two giant heaps of crimson feathers, he let out a loud breathy gasp freeing your abused nipple from his surprisingly sharp teeth. Evil flashed in your eyes as you smirked down at him when he gulped and looked up at you "...no." his voice was shaky "oh yeah." You replied raking your fingers on the same spot. His giant wings shook, the feathers rustling as he hissed through his teeth, grabbing your breast harshly in one hand and pulling you closer with the other fisted in your hair, crashing his lips onto yours with a feverish hunger. You were shocked, moaning into his mouth. His reaction was thrilling and you wanted to see more, tightly grabbing onto the base of his wings this time digging your nails there. He sneered and growled loudly in your mouth, sounding feral. You whimpered at the sound the reaction you got more than you bargained for. "On your hands and knees, (y/n)." He barked urging you up by his hand, still tightly fisted in your hair pulling you up. You gasped scrambling up to turn around and do as he had told you. His fingers dug in your hips and he pulled you back onto himself, in one fluid thrust, your pussy already gushing around him from his earlier change of tone. You cried out as you gripped the sheets in front of you. His wings were distracting as they spread once, engulfing you in their shadow. It felt safe, but extremely dominating. Or rather quite deliciously. He tucked them back behind himself when he leaned down over you, one hand still on your hip and the other running up your spine gripping the back of your neck tightly. He pulled back out right to the crown of his cock, before snapping his hips back inside all the way, at the same time his teeth sinking in your skin over your shoulder blade, drawing another loud cry from your throat. He set a brutal pace as his teeth worked on littering your back with bites and nips. "F-fuck!... Kei... shi-... Keigo!" Your breath coming out in short moans and gulped in with high pitched gasps. His fingers creeped from around the back of your neck towards your throat, squeezing it tight and firm, your breath and voice hitching as the thrill ran down your spine straight to your core, folds fluttering around his rock hard cock. He pulled you back up by your throat so your back was flush against his chest, your hand reaching up to claw at his wrist, squealing. His hold was not suffocating, just restricting the amount of air you were allowed. The new angle made his cock poke and drag over your walls, sending you right into your much desired orgasm eyes rolling to the back of your head. He was panting heavily and movements faltering and sloppy from holding you and himself up like that. Your cunt clenching around him, milked him dry, him moaning and biting your shoulder one last time. He remained inside you as you both came down from your highs, removing his hand from your throat to your shoulder, stroking one of his own bite marks lightly. He pulled out and let you drop on your belly with a tired sigh turning into a heavy strained "oof!" As he fell over you playfully, barely careful not to crush you. "Fuck, (y/n). Looks like I did all the biting this time." He laughed as he held himself up on his forearms gently kissing and soothing your sensitive skin. "Shut up...damn... I'm gonna bite you again if this is what I'm gonna get every time." You muttered tiredly. "I was right. You are a kinky little thing." He smirked laying down next to you this time, draping an arm over your waist and nuzzling your neck "you can bite me whenever you want, baby girl. I'm in."

~push me away, push me away

Then beg me to stay, beg me to stay~

Hey hey hey @queensynderella

[wincore]

wasted nights | liu yangyang

pairing: yangyang x reader

words: 5.5k

summary: firstly, you don’t think you should have survived this long. secondly, this might be the zombie apocalypse but your survival doesn’t feel as threatened by zombies as it does by liu yangyang. thirdly, you’ve chosen the worst time to develop a crush.

genre: zombie apocalypse!au, fluff, humour(?)

warnings: mention of injuries & blood, violence (against zombies), dumbassery, do not attempt during an actual zombie apocalypse

song rec(s): wasted nights - one ok rock 

a/n: october birthdays get halloween specials~ although this one is just full of unnecessary appearances by cats. also campfires because october campfires hit different. (i’m definitely saying this because i was born in october) also not me writing this as a joke and reaching 5.5k words </3

It’s two hours till sundown. 

What would you be doing on a day within the ordinary? Likely getting back from after school activities, chatting with a friend or feeding the stray kittens by the school building, or maybe pretending Liu Yangyang doesn’t exist—the possibilities were endless. Now there’s only one.

“Yangyang,” you call, more worried than not.

On a day out of the ordinary, you wish you hadn’t prayed for your exam to get cancelled the day all of this broke out. You wouldn’t be scavenging like some sort of rodent and you wouldn’t be standing at the gates of an abandoned shrine, though now is undoubtedly a better time to pray. It’s not the best of situations (especially not with a certain little rascal attached to your side). 

And understatements are definitely your thing now.

“Yangyang,” you call a little louder this time, eyes shifting around the shrine area. 

Should you step in? He asked you to wait, the stone steps now looking a little glum without him skipping over them. The only signs of life you’ve seen around has been a family of raccoons looking rather smug and a single spotted dove preening itself atop a branch. The lack of visibility into the forest surrounding the shrine bothers you, like something could jump out any minute and you suck your teeth, growing annoyed. Where is that boy?

You tap your foot against the ground soundlessly. What if a zombie were to pop out? They might be slow but the sight of them is still gross enough to paralyze you. Yangyang has his baseball bat with him, which leaves you defenseless in terms of weapons. Still, it’s not like the bat would have done you any good. You are, in the truest sense of the word, average at any sort of combat and freezing at the limbs comes to you more naturally. Zombies are not fun; whatever nonsense Yangyang has been trying to explain to you for weeks is optional, as is every other suggestion that comes from his mouth. It’s quiet and quiet, creepy shrines have never been your favourite place in the city.

You hear a low growl behind you, stiffening at the sound. Best case scenario, it’s a big rat. You’d rather not think of the worst case. Eventually, you gather some courage and turn slowly only to jump back with a short scream. 

Yangyang takes the old festival mask off to reveal a giant grin on his face, urging you to knock it right off. The anger that follows is natural and he should be used to it by now. Yangyang continues smiling, as if he didn’t just pull your soul right out of your body, and when he opens his mouth to say something, you’re quick to land a swift punch to his gut. He lets out a pained cry, dropping to the ground in a squat.

“Don’t do that,” you seethe. “Why can’t you greet me normally?”

“I’m okay!” He signals a thumbs up while the other hand clutches his stomach. 

“I didn’t ask.”

He moves his hand to place it over his chest. “Ow. Oh, and to answer your question, it’s because you don’t want to do my special handshake with me.”

“Hm. Get up. You said there were supplies here. What did you find?”

He pouts, finally getting up. “I can’t believe you’re just using me for supplies.”

You cross your arms. “Just get up already.”

Yangyang springs up despite the (admittedly) strong blow to his stomach and presents to you the plastic bag he’d been holding. In any other circumstances, it would spark some disapproval on your behalf but it turns out, those things do outlive most everything. For a moment, the ridiculous image of pulling a plastic bag over a zombie’s head crosses your mind. 

Yangyang finally responds, taking out whatever items he recovered. Not everything is useful however; he’s simply taken to collecting knick-knacks. 

“I found toothbrushes! Maybe your breath will stop stinking—”

You raise your clenched fist as a threat.

“—I was kidding. Obviously. You have lovely breath.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose in an attempt to contain your exasperation. 

“Also, I found clean water so I filled up some bottles and yeah, I couldn’t find much else but oh! There was this huge cat and I mean huge like a big chonk kinda guy, you know? And I’m sure he was, like, trying to tell me something, like, he kept hissing when I went near him but…”

You wonder if Yangyang ever gets tired from speaking so fast, his words fading out of your comprehension. You shake your head, clearing your throat.

“Can we leave now?”

Yangyang raises an eyebrow, almost smirking as the gears in his head turn.

“You’re not… superstitious, are you?” he asks. “I heard there’s a lot of reported sightings of ghosts here.”

“No,” you blurt, quick to deny. Yangyang might have seen you crying after getting lost in the dark, almost fainting after encountering a zombie for the first time or even in deep sorrow after you lost your friend—but there’s still part of your dignity to protect before you can admit your fear of ghosts. There’s just something about this abandoned shrine; there are no visitors apart from the caretaker and if loneliness is responsible for anything, it’s making lonely things seem a whole lot scarier. You’d rather leave before the sun sets.

Yangyang laughs. “Who do you think would win in a fight? Zombies or ghosts?”

You roll your eyes. “That’s so stupid. Obviously ghosts.”

“No. Okay, maybe. I just think…”

There he goes again. 

You wonder if he was always this way—when you passed him by in the hallways, when he shot you a polite smile at club meetings or when you saw him being loud with his friends blocking part of the sidewalk. You’re sure he couldn’t have been entirely sane.

“Oh my god.”

Yangyang’s voice jerks you back to the present. You follow his line of sight to a cardboard box beneath a particularly dense shrub; it's a large one—quite possibly a carton of some commercial product which doesn’t matter anymore. However, it’s not the details of the box itself so much as it is the contents that grab your attention. 

You can almost see the sparkle in Yangyang’s eyes as he views the cats huddled together inside the box. They don’t seem to mind each other within their personal space—you count four of them, tightly packed and eyes closed in a late afternoon nap. How the box hasn’t ripped apart yet is quite a mystery, and what’s more troubling is how at ease they seem to be with the entire human race in disarray.

You grab Yangyang by the collar before he can make his way to them.

“Don’t harass them,” you say, massaging your temples. “Jesus, it’s like they’re glued to each other. Do they have to be in the same box?”

“It might just be the last cardboard box left on earth.” Yangyang shrugs.

The cats mind their own business, grooming their fur or closing their eyes in an odd sort of bliss. You wonder what it would be like to be so unbothered by all the chaos. It reminds you of someone.

“Come on,” you urge, thinking back to older times. “Don’t think I forgot how much you used to bother old Louis back then.”

Louis was the university cat, fed with so much love that he eventually started avoiding people like the plague. You wonder how he’s holding up for a brief moment.

“Don’t think I forgot how you were back then too.”

“What do you mean?” you snap, glaring at him.

“You were already a zombie,” he says before engaging in a cheap mimicry of you, drooping his eyelids and taking slow steps muttering, “I… must… maintain… gpa… grr.”

You almost take off your shoe to throw it at him before deciding it’s not worth your time. Ah, if only you had done that during club meetups, perhaps you’d have felt better about him joining. Everyone treated him so differently, and you hate to admit you now understand why. 

Everyone loves a good troublemaker.

And there happens to be another thing special about your sole competitor for the debate club’s president position. Apart from his strange antics (charms, he says), even this virus—this fuckall literal killer virus can’t infect him. He’s immune—an occurrence with a possibility lower than you finding him attractive. (There, you said it.)

You look at Yangyang still talking about Louis and a small smile crosses your face. You’d feed your right arm to a zombie before you admitted it but it’s nice having him around. You furrow your brows at the sudden familiar bubbling in your chest and shove it away in a flash before your conscious decides to tell you what it is. 

Your heart jumps to your throat when you make eye contact with Yangyang, turning away in a rather awkward manner. Oh, the end of the world does awful things to you.

“Are you listening?” Yangyang raises an eyebrow. “Oh my god, you weren’t listening at all.”

You roll your eyes. “I was distracted.”

“By me?” he offers in a sing-song voice, prompting a smack from you. It’s easier to pretend this way.

Yangyang massages his shoulder with a huff. “Why are you hitting me so much today? I’ve counted like eight and the day’s only just over.”

“Sorry,” you mumble before clearing your throat. “I mean, you’ve also said something annoying, like, more than eight times today.”

“I’m not annoying.”

There’s a pause.

“Okay, maybe a little bit.”

The sun starts to lay in rest by the time you reach the city. Compared to the green, red and yellow of the yet standing shrine, this place is in dull monochrome with the occasional coloured signs that flicker to life. You force yourself to think but have a hard time remembering if it was always this way. Was it any different with the rushing cars or apathetic crowds? You can’t tell. You were part of them, after all. 

“Hey, how about a bottle flip challenge but with traffic cones?” Yangyang thinks aloud, walking backwards as you pass by a particularly well-lit alley. 

You roll your eyes in response. Is it the lack of people making him that way? Your unflustered companion looks at home among neon lights, all of them seeming to point towards him as an answer to a question you haven’t quite figured out yet. 

You glance at the alley just a second longer. The electric lanterns still glow red, and although dim, there are many. The shops almost look like you could enter and be greeted with a crowd of university kids or a group of office workers drinking away in celebration of the weekend. You sigh. It’s most certainly deserted inside; there’s no doubt. At the most, the tables are still arranged neatly and the meat grills aren’t completely rusted. You wonder if it’s a Friday.

There was never much grass in the city but whatever growth there was has withered into a mustard yellow or a lamenting grey. An empty city is hardly appealing, but you can’t deny the ill-favored things you’ve done the past few months in the absence of people—a part of you questioning whether breaking into supermarkets is still against the law when no one’s around to keep it. You smile at the memory of Yangyang pushing you around in a shopping cart, though you’d gotten drunk off the (stolen) liquor prior. The neon lights hanging as a banner over sketchy shops sometimes spark alive before dying down over and over again, and to be fair, you don’t think they ever shined too bright. Ironically, they’re the liveliest thing about the city now. 

The sky’s soaked in ink at a time you assume to be around seven in the evening. You walk closer to Yangyang without realizing; it’s not often you’ve been out this late the past few months.

“Hey.” Yangyang snaps you out of your daze. “Be careful.”

The words are strange coming from him but you understand why. You look up ahead with caution and a shiver runs down your spine as you stare at the intersection, a lone, tattered figure droning aimlessly. It’s only one, you tell yourself. And they’re slow.

The memories of your previous encounters send warnings over your skin, shivers begging you to run as fast as you can. You would if it weren’t for Yangyang’s grip on your hand, tugging you forward gently and though it’s something he does every time, you wonder if he knows how you’re really feeling. His footsteps are soundless, with the same red sneakers he’s worn since the beginning of this but something tells you it’s not the shoes that give him a cat’s footfall. The purple lights flicker on and off over the shop on the opposite street, the suddenness of it making you latch onto Yangyang for a short-lived moment. You’re quick to let go, throat too dry to make any sound. 

You curve around what would be a straight path, careful not to be in the creature’s line of sight when you cross. The streets seem wider when they’re so empty, and somehow it feels more unlawful this way. Yangyang signals to you to stay closer, and you follow before bumping into his back when he stops abruptly. There’s absolutely no sound, the feeling in your gut much worse than at the shrine.

“Something’s wrong,” Yangyang whispers.

A strangled shriek erupts from your mouth when something launches itself onto the two of you, making you land on your butt. You would’ve placed your hands over your eyes, but you’ve learned how to be less of a coward these past few days. 

A shaky breath leaves you. A cat. It was a stray cat. The little asshole looks at you with almost twinkling eyes, tail swishing from side to side before deciding you’re not worth its time. Your shoulders sag, a moment of relief despite your stiff muscles.

“Uh, (name)?”

You look up only for your stomach to fill with dread. The zombie from before is staring directly at the two of you, the same vacant look in its eyes that has haunted you for the entirety of the apocalypse.

“It’s okay, he’s too slow,” Yangyang reminds you, voice barely a whisper as he helps you stand.

“We can just take the other street—it’s a little longer but it’s mostly safe and there’s no way he can—”

Yangyang is interrupted by a sickening growl from behind you and you jump back. There’s another one. And another. You count four more before holding back a swear. Yangyang grabs you by the shoulder and the two of you take a step back, onto the sidewalk. There’s a shop behind you; you read a smeared sign above the plastic door curtains indicating a dumpling place. Even if you were to hide in there, there’s no guarantee you’d be safe. 

But if you’ve learned anything in these months, it’s that anything is always better than nothing.

The night has settled in completely, you realize. You’re about to tug Yangyang to the inside as you turn around, only to freeze up in your spot. A pale woman emerges from the store, her makeup still fresh but you know that look, the look in her eyes. How cruel.

“Please,” she mumbles, taking a step towards you and you think you might just cry. It’s not long before she turns, you think with dread.

You stumble back to Yangyang when she emits a blood curdling screech, lunging at you and to either your alarm or worse, relief, Yangyang pushes you back. You watch with wide eyes as the woman sinks her teeth into his arm, nausea growing at the sight of blood. He moves fast though, his arm swinging the baseball bat to meet the woman in the head, hard enough to knock her out. In these few moments, one of the zombies is close enough to reach an arm out towards you and you swear you can hear the horrid sound of his bones cracking when you step back. The longer you remain in this state, the slower you are. You suppose you should take comfort in these words but when you look at it, you still see a man.

Hollow. They’re all hollow. 

You take a deep breath.

Just as the thought crosses your head, you see Yangyang swing his bat again, meeting the zombie on the head and much to your wide-eyed horror, the head flies off into the dumpling shop and the body reacts with just about as much confusion as you do. It wildly waves about its hands in the now vacant spot before crumpling onto the road with a quiet realization.

Yangyang makes a face, pressing his knuckle to his mouth to prevent himself from what you presume is gagging. However, when you look closely, he seems to be holding back a laugh instead and very painfully so. You know he has a habit of laughing at the most inappropriate times but this, it really takes the cake.

“Home run?” he suggests, turning to you with a sheepish half-grin. There’s no hint of malice in his voice and you think that it’s probably not that he enjoys swinging his baseball bat at zombies. 

“You’re disgusting,” you reply, shaking your head.

“Maybe I should leave you here then.” 

You can’t believe he has the gall to be cheeky with blood running down his arm and four of the undead drooling at the sight of you two. 

“Do you think we can find ingredients that aren’t stale here? I miss having dumplings.”

“Yangyang.”

“Okay, okay.”

The other ones are still far enough and the two of you take this chance to run off towards the street Yangyang mentioned earlier and safely out of view. You notice him panting heavier than before, and your eyes scan over his arm in worry. The bite is ugly, red with oozing blood, and you hold back the urge to ask him if he’s anaemic. 

Yangyang follows your eyes before an ‘ah’ leaves his lips. He spins his head to the right, trying to catch a glimpse of the wound in the same manner a dog chases after its own tail. He puts the bat down to try and twist his arm to see the injury but you stop him, clicking your tongue at his silly behaviour.

“You’re not twelve, Yangyang,” you scold. “Let’s get back to the hotel first.”

He shrugs, and you think some provoking words are ready to leave his mouth when he simply picks up his bat and walks off. You blink before quickening your steps to catch up with him. The blood dripping down his forearm makes you feel a little unwell but you know better than to touch infections.

It takes around fifteen minutes longer than usual to reach the hotel—Yangyang was right. It is safer here, with no zombies lurking around the corners. He must have been out late when he was scouting, you think with distaste.

You reach the now-rusting gates of your haven without trouble and the moment you reach, Yangyang falls to his knees, heaving a breath he seems to have been holding. You rush to him, eyes frantic when you reach your hand out to him, and he flinches, moving away from you.

“Don’t,” he mutters before getting up. “You turning into a real zombie would be my personal nightmare.”

It’s not enough to curb your worry but you follow him nonetheless, the stupid, wavering grin on his face making you unable to decipher what he’s really feeling. 

The familiar smell of honeysuckle washes into you as you pass by the entrance, locking the door behind you as Yangyang falls onto one of the chairs in the lobby. Kunhang happened to be passing by, a muffled swear leaving him when he sees the blood on Yangyang’s arm.

“You didn’t touch him, did you?” he asks, pulling on his gloves to further see the wound. A former med student is the best you have here, and somehow, you’ve never seen him complain about having to take care of someone as bothersome as Yangyang. 

You shake your head in reply to Kunhang and watch as he runs from shelf to shelf to procure more bandages than you’ve ever seen in your life. You’ve been seeing an awful lot lately. 

“We’re going to run out of bandages in a week if he keeps this up,” Kunhang says with a frown, moving so fast you can barely see his hands. “He’ll be okay, I guess. The virus just makes him dizzy.”

He’s probably thinking the same thing you are. Something serious happening to Yangyang is a little bit of a miracle. Maybe he’ll finally be set right in the head. 

Even so, you know Kunhang is worried despite his quick response, his frown lines deepening once he’s done wrapping up. He sighs before waltzing off to discard his gloves.

It’s not that you aren’t impressed by Kunhang; you’ve just seen him do that too many times to count. And of course, it’s mostly Yangyang on the receiving end. They might be good friends but this also happens to be the only time they're serious together. Moreover, Kunhang seems to beat Yangyang in the talking-for-twelve-hours-straight department. You have to admit though, being in charge of first aid for the few people stuck in this hotel is not an easy business. 

You take a seat opposite to Yangyang, dozing off in his chair and wonder if you should wipe the drool off his chin. Disgusting, you think to yourself, but another part of you dares to offer the word cute. 

The best thing about barricading yourself in a hotel during the apocalypse is not having to worry about beds. There’s at least five hundred rooms in this skyrise, more than enough for, what, sixteen people? The place is so big that you hardly run into the others. The only rule around here is regarding the pantry—to write down who’s taken what on the notepad stuck to one corner. Despite what movies show, people are far more helpful to each other in times of need, more so than usual even. You relax into the chair, the velvet cushion feeling comfortable against your back. 

There’s a nice communal feeling in this place. 

You frown. It’s not like you can stay here forever. 

At the very least, you can pretend each sundown and sunrise is ordinary here. You close your eyes, and slowly, thoughts of why you’re trying so hard to remember life before this drift away.

//

Yangyang wakes up before you do, grinning like crazy as he shrugs you awake. You stare at him through groggy eyes, untangling your limbs from yourself. The cold seeps into you and you shiver, hugging yourself.

“We found the keys to the lounge,” he rushes, albeit in a gentle voice. “Guess what?”

“Unh?”

“There’s a campfire spot over there! The others already started but I thought I should wake you up.”

It’s just like him to be excited about something like that. You get up nevertheless, Yangyang pulling you through the stairs and onto the only elevator that seems to work around here. There’s quite a few things about this hotel left to be figured out. You’re going to have to start worrying anyway when the power from the generator runs out.

Kunhang and an older man, Mr Kang, are the only ones there once you reach. You had expected it but the lounge is gigantic and a small part of it provides the artificial campfire area. There are paintings of wild animals and trees for children, you assume, on the walls only cut off by a large vent on the ceiling. The fire burns bright over the large circle of soil and firewood, whose authenticity is debatable. You sigh at the warmth, having grown tired of the autumn weather’s mood swings.

Kunhang greets the two of you with a grin before delicately poking Mr Kang to at least acknowledge your presence. It’s funny, the lot of you.

The place is a little small, considering there’s a literal fire in the middle of the room. You almost sit on Yangyang because he shifts too suddenly at Mr Kang’s disapproval of proximity, a small yelp leaving you whereas Yangyang, for the first time, looks like he’d rather die. He mutters an apology, and two of you manage to sit a good two feet apart, sudden awkwardness rising in the air—all of it unnoticed by Mr Kang. You heard he was a banker but if Kunhang and Yangyang had a polar opposite, it would most certainly be him. You can’t even remember the man’s voice.

You think you should say something but Kunhang’s laughter breaks the silence. There’s an unspoken exchange between him and Yangyang, piquing your curiosity though you aren’t sure what you should be asking. You just assume it’s one of their stupid inside jokes.

“I left your gift on your table. You can add it to your dumb shoe collection,” Kunhang tells Yangyang, smiling before standing up to stretch. “I’m going to bed. Mr Kang, won’t you accompany me?”

Mr Kang gets up begrudgingly and you’re about to ask them to stay longer when Kunhang turns to you enthusiastically. “Good night, (name). Don’t have too much fun. Although, I suppose there’s no better time to have too much fun either.”

You watch with furrowed brows as the two disappear into the doorway and down the stairs. You spend a couple of moments in silence before clearing your throat. When it goes unnoticed, you turn to Yangyang despite the warmth on your face. 

“It’s not dumb,” he mutters to himself, a little zoned out.

You stare at him for a few moments and the familiar feeling rises in your throat, now with a little voice to accompany it. 

Cute.

You cough, distracting yourself with any and all thoughts you would rather have, even of the zombies. Now isn’t the time—or is it the perfect time? You shake your head, calming yourself.

“Does it… hurt?” You ask, eyeing Yangyang’s arm.

He looks up as if broken from a daze, the campfire lights still dazzling in his eyes. You hold back a laugh. He really is a child; if he’s so easily mesmerized by fires, that is.

“Probably not any worse than the lady I whack-a-mole’d. Now that must’ve hurt.” Yangyang puffs his cheek before looking straight at you.

You stare back. It’s not the weirdest thing he’s said.

“What? I feel bad beating the crap out of zombies sometimes,” he says, scratching the back of his head. 

You hum in response. The thought of Yangyang developing a conscience is almost as bad as having to think about zombies. Though, you’ll have to admit, it does give you a strange relief. Zombies can’t really feel pain—they are, after all, numb in every possible sense—but some part of you wonders if it’s alright like this. Morals and survival aren’t meant to overlap. 

You feel the need to distract yourself with something.

“Hey,” you call, moving closer to Yangyang such that your shoulders almost touch. Before you know it, you brush the hair from his face, trying to style the mess into something more neat—a thing you’ve been wanting to do since the first time you saw him. Every time you’d see the messy mop of hair at an official event of the debate club, you’d have this strong urge and an almost putrid form of annoyance. You still don’t know how he managed to get in.

“You don’t look terrible with parted hair,” you muse. “You could’ve looked more decent at the debates.”

You look down from his hair to see Yangyang frozen, eyes wide as if a deer in the headlights.

“Are- Are you not breathing?” you ask.

Yangyang sucks in a large chunk of air, fast enough to choke on it and break into a coughing fit as he turns away from you. You reach out to pat his back but he waves his hand at you, indicating he’s fine before he can turn to you.

You look at him with no particular emotion, the night breeze having worked its way to you.

“What was that about a gift? Are you and Kunhang getting things for each other without telling me?” you say, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

There's a short pause, filled with the crackling of fire.

“It’s my birthday,” Yangyang says with a small smile as the campfire lights dance across his cheeks.

And yet, the words come out sad as if he’d been waiting for an occasion to tell you. You look at him, eyes widening ever so slightly accompanied by the loss of words and take a sharp breath.

“I’m not going to ask for a gift,” Yangyang teases. “Don’t look so worried.”

You open your mouth and close it again, unable to explain the gentle wash of sadness overcome you when you see just a boy. For all the talking he does, he never asks for much. 

“I mean, I- I liked spending the day with you. Why do you look so sad? Did I say something? Again?”

You look over his features, from his brow bone to his wide eyes to his lips and the conclusion arrives as gently as the end of the world. What’s the worst that could happen?

You quickly pull him into a hug, still careful of his injury, and a vaguely embarrassing sound escapes Yangyang, something akin to a sheep’s call. He clears his throat which turns into coughing before he can wrap his arms around you, his breathing soft against your shoulder. 

“I’m- I’m alive, you know? I don’t think I’m dying any time soon. I- I can’t even get infected! You know that.”

“That’s not why I’m- I…” You pull back, steeling your eyes so you don’t feel the warmth of embarrassment. 

Just like you prepare for debates, you think to yourself. Maybe Yangyang was right about you being a zombie—the way you follow the same drudging formula.

“I like you,” you say, your words more of a strained whisper but they’re out before you know it. You can fake confidence, you tell yourself. It’s horrible timing and spending your (potentially) last days with someone who rejected you is just another way to shoot yourself in the foot.

But part of you has been wanting to do this for so long that you almost don’t mind.

Yangyang sucks in a breath, pressing his knuckles to his mouth as he straightens.

“That was- Wow. Okay. I- Uh. Wow.”

You let the heat grow stronger in your cheeks, racking your head for an explanation or even a lie. Maybe you can say it was a mistake. 

“I- I meant…” You lose track of your words. You can’t lie.

“I’ve never been confessed to,” he blurts, and if you squint, you swear you can see him blushing.

“Huh?”

Yangyang coughs again, followed by the same embarrassing sound. “That was- That was the first time.”

The silence between you is accompanied by the crackling of fire and the soft path-making of wind. You’re at a loss for words, something that you should be used to by now—they clearly belong to someone else.

“Oh my god, that was so stupid,” he says, pulling a horrified face as he frantically waves his hands about. “I meant to say I like you too but I- I guess I forgot to say it out loud. Ah, crap- I sound even stupider now, don’t I?”

Your lips twitch, trying to contain your smile but you’re seized with uncontrollable laughter anyway. The mortified expression on Yangyang’s face makes you burst into another fit of giggles before you can somewhat compose yourself.

“I think that’s the longest you’ve been quiet for,” you say in between recurring laughter. “Did anyone ever tell you being able to talk fast doesn’t get you ahead in debate clubs?”

Yangyang frowns.

“Oh, I just joined because I thought it’d get on your nerves,” he says, not a hint of jest in his voice.

You straighten away from him, the smile dropping from your face.

“You can’t be serious.”

He grins sheepishly, scratching the back of his head and offering no explanation. You huff in exasperation, getting up abruptly to avoid another oncoming headache. It’s a little difficult, considering you have the human version of it right beside you.

“Wait- Where are you going?” Yangyang scrambles up to his feet. “It’s my birthday, you know?”

You turn around and put your hands on your hips, a small smile on your face at the sight of him. “It’s midnight already.”

“Oh. How was I supposed to know?”

You laugh, shaking your head. Maybe the little rascal is special.

“Hey,” Yangyang calls. “You know, since this is the end of the world and all…”

You stare at him, heartbeat erratic at the lack of distance and despite the fading of teenage fantasies. Yangyang shifts nervously, glancing here and there while simultaneously trying to keep eye contact with you, an action which makes you hold back a chuckle. There’s a particular twinkle in his eyes but he can’t seem to be able to look at you straight.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, finally.

And what a daring end to the world it is.

[obsessive-ego]

Night night

Beetlejuice jerks it while watching you sleep again cuz someone asked me to

Musical beetlejuice x reader

Nsft content

Its been a good few days since you've last seen your undead pal, the ghoul claimed he had a business meeting in the netherworld, though you still dont believe the demon had a legit paying job, the man was a freeloader, not that you minded, you enjoyed his presence, more so then youd like to admit to be honest, okay so maybe you thought of him on those long sleepless nights, not that youd ever say it out loud.

You were a coward with those feelings, beetlejuice was impossible to read, the heavy flirting, the touching, who's to say he wasnt just messing with you.

You sigh as you continue to fold your laundry, normally on quiet days like this, when you were alone, youd try to catch up on chores since there were no distractions nor interruptions.

Your mind begins to wander with this simple mindless task, so you didmt exactly notice as you room gets colder and the air gets heavier.

"Honey, I'm home~" a familiar voice growls in your ear

You Yelp at the surprise, and fumble with the shirt you were folding, before spinning around to see the culprit.

There stood beetlejuice, smug as ever, a big toothy grin, amber eyes practically glowing, spots of pink emerging from his hair, both head and face.

"BEETLEJUICE"

"Oh how I missed that sound~ that sweet sound on my favourite breather screaming" he moans leaning back circling his own nipples.

You suppress a laugh, not wanting to give the demon encouragement for making a fool out of you.

"Welcome home" you sigh, before turning back to gather up the folded laundry and place it in the basket.

Unbeknownst to you the ghoul has let the soft pink spots take full control of his once green hair, a dopey love sick smile now graced his mug, the demon let's out a soft sigh, welcome home, something so soft and simple, it ment nothing when he said it, but from you? You were basically inviting the ghoul to live with you forever, that you considered your home his aswell.

Turning back to the ghoul you smile

"Well?"

Beetlejuice snaps back to reality, raising an eyebrow at you tilting his head as if to focus more on you.

"How was the whole business trip?"

"Oh, that? dull, not even worth discussing" he smoothed back his hair, as if he was whiping the pink away in favour of his default Forest green.

You frown, beetlejuice wasnt exactly open with talking about the netherworld, maybe because he found it boring, being born dead he's probably already had his fill of the place, you shrug it off, not wanting to spoil the mood of your departed friend being back.

"Soooo~ ya miss me?~" the ghoul coos pulling you into a rather enthusiastic dip before leaning in close, puckering his lips and making kissing sounds. You snort out a laugh and try to push beej away.

"Of course I did, as nice as the quiet is, i miss you when you're not around"

You literally had no idea what you were doing to him with all this corny honesty and kindness, all without blackmail or threatening, you openly enjoyed him, bugs and all. No one has ever wanted him for nothing, beetlejuice was powerful so be wanted always had a catch, but not with you.

"Oh~ do you think of me when you're all alone late at night?" He purrs in a mocking tone, as much as beetlejuice was infatuated with you he still enjoyed teasing the hell out of you.

You snort out a laugh trying to escape his grasp

"Come on doll, say you think about me at night~" the demon purrs pulling you close, taking a slight nip of your ear causing you to yelp out.

And as if your yelp was what he was after the ghoul let's you go.

Frazzled, embarrassed, and slightly confused you stumble trying to regain yourself.

"I take it back, I didnt miss you" you mumble

Beetlejuice only laughs "no backies babes"

It wasnt a new thing, beetlejuice teasing you, flirting with you, being up close and personal, you just didnt exactly know if he was joking or being legit, but you didnt mind, you enjoyed his attention, as embarrassing as it was, and let's be honest beetlejuice  was thrilled you enjoyed it, so he could get up close and personal with his favourite breather, now if only he could get you to admit you loved him first.

...

It was nice to have your freeloader back, a few days of peace and quiet are nice, but things do get lonely, so having your ghost back was wonderful, the two of you spend you evening the usual way.

You ordered pizza, beetlejuice scares the piss out of the delivery guy and makes you laugh, the two of you spend hours watching b list horror and joking all the while.

The night was a delight, but fun things couldnt last forever, unlike the demon, you needed to sleep.

"I'm gonna head to bed beej" you yawn.

During your little movie night the ghoul manged to worm his way into your personal space, pulling you into his side, draping an arm around your shoulders.

You squirm your way out of the demon's grasp, beetlejuice grunts in protest, not exactly thrilled with you absence, it's been days since he had you so close, your warmth, your scent, oh how he missed it, hell he already starting to get get hard from that close contact alone.

"Aw come on sweets, you have the day off tomorrow, and I just got back from a long boring trip alone, humor me" he shrugs knowing full well you wont.

You yawn "sorry Bee, I can barely keep my eyes open, we can hang out more tomorrow, night Bj" you waved him goodnight before shuffling to you bedroom.

The ghoul huffs in disappointment, one day you'll agree to stay up all night with him, well, more of you'll TRY to stay up all night with him and fall asleep up against him, gold for teasing.

The ghoul didnt want to continue with watching movies, it wasnt the same without you laughing at his jokes, nor did he want to play video games, again, they weren't fun without you, he COULD bug your neighbors, but he wasnt exactly in the mood.

Raising from his seat on the couch he huffs, it was nice to be back after those soul sucking few days in the netherworld, the ghoul floats over to your bedroom door, phasing his head through the door, unlike breathers the demon could easily see in the dark, there you were out cold, he smirks, you really were tired.

With the coast in clear the ghoul phasing the rest of his form through the door.

Beetlejuice makes his way over to your sleeping form, oh how he missed this, yes the two of you were apart only for a few days, and yes you two have been apart for longer periods of time. But spending time with the Deetz and the maitlands was a different kinda time apart, he wasnt alone, but being in the netherworld? It was lonely, cold, and felt like an eternity, plus he had to deal with his mother. But that unpleasantness was over, and here he was, in his favourite breather's home, where he belonged.

The ghoul hums as he makes his way to your bed, the ghoul floats and adjusts himself, now laying on his side hovering inches above your bed and inches from you.

One of Beetlejuice's favourite late night pass times was watching you sleep, he was a creep with a massive crush on you, both in the sappy way and 'I'm gonna fuck you senseless way'.

"Really missed ya sweets~" he purred in a gravely whisper

"I missed your voice, I missed you laugh, I missed you warmth, i missed you scent-" the ghoul continued with his list as he slowly freed his half hard cock, it's been a few days since he last cleaned his pipes, and being up close and personal with his favourite breather moments earlier really got his motor running.

As lovely as it was for the demon to watch you sleep, another favourite pastime of his was to tend to his personal urges while watching you sleep, an activity he has partook in multiple times.

Electric pink quickly took over the mossy green of his hair, the demon was already buzzing with excitement, pink hue so bright it illuminated the room, Beetlejuice's strokes started off nice and slow, as much as beetlejuice wanted to rush into the fun, he wanted to enjoy his first night back home even more.

Leaning forward the ghoul takes a deep long sniff if your scent "Mmmm" he stifles a moan "I bet you taste as good as ya smell babes" he groand through his clenched teeth.

As hot as the idea of being caught was, having you wake up and see him jerking off only inches away from where you lay, having you be incredibly flattered and turned on at such a gesture and then begging him to fuck you, as hot as that fantasy is, that's what it was, a fantasy, in reality youd probably be sick to your stomach at such a scene and banish him then and there, but hey, a ghoul can dream.

"I bet those pretty hands would feel alot better then mine" he groans, slightly picking up pace.

"Maybe next movie night you could treat me to a little handy J sweets, unless youd prefer to use that cute mouth of yours, you know I'm not picky" he sighs, the image of you getting bored during movie night and getting handsy with the demon was one of his favourite fantasies, simple, yet naughty. Beetlejuice's hips buck into his hand begging him to pick up the pace as his mind wanders to all his dirty fantasies of you, his amber eyes never breaking away from your face.

If the ghoul was good at anything, other then being an absolute pest, it was edging himself. Beetlejuice slows down his strokes, almost as if to stop.

"Ya know doll, anything you'd do to me I'll repay ya, I'm dying again to get my tongue inside that sweet little pussy of yours~ if your panties are any indication you're gonna taste real good~ I'll eat ya out for hours-" beetlejuice freezes as you shift in your sleep, you let out a soft unintelligible noise.

The ghoul let's out a sigh he didnt know he was holding, his hands make their way back to his cock, that sweet little noise, oh how his missed those sounds you uttered in your sleep.

"Oh sugar, the sounds you'll make when old mr beebleboose gets ya riding his cock are going to be beautiful" he moans, the image having you sitting pretty straddling him, cocked buried deep within you, having you do all the movements at first while he admires the way your chest will bounce, and the faces you'll make, until the demon takes charge and pounds mercilessly into you, oh how he dreamed to hear your screams of pleasure and praise on how good the ghoul made you feel.

Beetlejuice's hands were busy at work, tending to his cock as the ghoul's imagination ran wild as he stared at your sleeping face, he was close.

"Oh y/n, FUCK, babes I want- no, i need ya, I need ya so bad sweets, I missed ya so much babes, fuck" beetlejuice babbled as his pace picked up jerking his cock, hips bucking hard to meet his hand.

Beetlejuice leans back into you face, taking another deep inhale of your intoxicating scent, and lingering a tad longer to steal a quick kiss,as much as the ghoul wanted to shove his tongue down your throat this was the best he got.

"Baby, I'm gonna- fuck y/n-" he uttered before he finally blowing his load, splattering his glowing cum all over your bed, it was quite the amount, beetlejuice sighs leaning back and admiring his handy work

"Its been while since I made that much" he lets out a soft chuckle, electric pink hue slowly dying down.

He sighs, as hot as it is to have you sleep in cum covered sheets, you wouldnt be too pleased waking up to see this sticky mess.

With a snap of the demon's fingers the mess vanishes, as disappointing it was to he his work vanish it was for the greater good.

Beetlejuice's gaze moves from your bed spread back to you, his expression changes to a soft toothy smile, soft pink colours taking over his hue, with a snap of his finger his trade mark striped suit was vanished leaving him wearing nothing aside from a pair of striped boxers. Beetlejuice slowly and carefully removes the covers from your body and gently slides in next to you, covering himself up with the freshly 'cleaned' blanket he sighs through his nose, greeted by your delightful warmth, one of his favourite things about breathers, how warm they were.

There was only ONE last little thing to make this welcome back 'party' perfect.

With a snap of his fingers you're sleeping form shifts and slowly crawls into the ghoul's arms before collapsing back into your motionless slumber, beetlejuice smirks at this as his arms wrap themselves around you, possessing someone in their sleep was a little annoying, but little things like that were a peice of cake.

With this pipes cleaned and you in his arms the ghoul was ready for bed,

"Welcome home, home" he muses on the words you beamed at him when he returned to you. "Guess that really rings true huh? Night y/n" he kisses your forehead before finally closing his eyes.

Bonus

You jolt awake moments after beetlejuice has snuck into your bed, anxiety taking over due to the weight about your body that you did not go to bed with, you sigh in relief once you see it was your resident freeloader demon, a tad embarrassed how you ended up cuddling the ghoul you shrug it off, to be honest the nights you were without him were sleepless, it was lonely without him.

You pause for a second before leaning up and giving the ghoul a quick peck on his scruffy cheek before nuzzling back into his soft chest, his hands resting softly on your back.

"Good night Lawrence" you mumble before dozing back off for a long peaceful sleep.

[sinnergetreadymp3]

CHAMERON FIC CHAMERON FIC CHAMERON FIC

Uhhhhh I feel like I should give this a title but I have no idea what to call so uh, nevermind !!

Anyways,I finally finished the fic I said I was writing like,a month ago lol. All my Chameron stans out there this one's for u,I rlly hope at least one person enjoys this,I rlly enjoyed writing it !! Ok sappy stuff outta the way,here it is:

As rain pounded against the window Charlie sent what was probably the thousandth crumpled ball of paper across the room.

"Jesus Charlie,is your arm not getting tired?"

Charlie smirked at that, clearly preparing to make a dirty minded joke,but a thoroughly exhausted Richard Cameron was already one step ahead.

"You know what,forget I asked, you're gross."

Getting up from the seat at his desk and ignoring an indignant retort from Charlie, Cameron thought of the rest of his friends,out for the weekend. Todd and Neil celebrating their one year anniversary, Meeks and Pitts embarking on a two day road trip,for what they still claimed to be, entirely platonic reasons (although the rest of the poets were all too aware of the almost palpable romantic tension between them). Even Knox had found something to do with himself on this miserable Friday night.

And here Cameron was,stuck in his dorm with nothing but stacks of extra homework and his obnoxious roommate to keep him company.

Speaking of that obnoxious roommate, "Oh come on Cam,you're not seriously going to bed already,it's barely eight!"

"Shut up Dalton,I'm tired."

Refusing to admit defeat, Charlie sprung from his own bed into Cameron's, attempting to wrestle the poor boy from his comfortable position.

"Charlie,get off you psycho!" Cameron managed to get out, already laughter threatening to give away just how welcome his friend's childish antics were.

After a few more minutes of "fooling around" as Charlie insisted on calling it (mostly because of how profusely it made Cameron blush),the two boys lay breathless beside each other,trying desperately to think of something else to do that would ward off impending boredom.

After a few moments of comfortable silence,Charlie suggested,looking expectantly towards the ginger, "Wanna go to the cave?"

With extreme,mind numbing boredom as motivation, it was inevitable that Cameron would say yes. It certainly helped that Charlie was gazing at him with those oh-so convincing doe eyes of his. Charlie Dalton and his stupid,gorgeous eyes. And his stupid,gorgeous smile,which Cameron was abso definitely not thinking about as he got up and grabbed his coat.

The two boys trudged through the woods,bickering lightly when Cameron complained of the cold that Charlie apparently couldnt feel at all,but always with an unusually friendly air between them. Before long they were sat together in the middle of the cave,sharing an apple that Cameron had managed to salvage from somewhere (a feat Dalton was of course impressed by),and trading stories of girls and parties galore. In Cameron's case, the stories of girls were few and the parties were from years long before even middle school,so Charlie did most of the talking.

After a while though,the boys came to discussing their friends,and the luck they all seemed to have in finding each other so easily. Charlie, ever the romantic,made no waste of his extensive vocabulary,tediously lamenting on all the opportunities of love he had missed and the everlasting loneliness he was doomed to,all because his dashing knight in shining armour would never come to find him and-

"Why dont *you* just find somebody?"

Charlie,still sprawled dramatically over a rock ,and mildly offended at the interruption,indignantly questioned "What do you mean?"

"What I said? You dont just have to wait around for somebody to come find you and fall madly in love. Why don't *you* just find somebody?"

He thought for a moment,taken aback by the ginger's harsh words,but eventually decided to humout him for a moment.

"And where exactly do you suggest I find him then, hm?"

Cameron shifted in his seat,not expecting to be taken seriously and certainly not prepared to be giving advice. Especially not *this* kind of advice. Especially not to *charlie*.

"Well,uh," he looked up to see the other boy looking at him expectantly,with that ever-present smirk on his face that, oddly enough,made Cameron feel a little more comfortable.

"Maybe,you could,I don't know, consider that the guy you're looking for has been here the whole time?"

"Wow Cam,Pittsie and Meeks' radio must've really gotten to you. All those love songs have turned you into a big softie." Charlie joked,grinning and nudging Cameron playfully.

Through a soft laugh,Cameron continued, "No I'm serious man,I think you're making this whole love thing way harder for yourself. I mean- and be honest with me, what's actually wrong with the guys at our school?"

"Other than the fact that about three quarters of them are raging heterosexuals?"

Laughing again,Cameron replied "yeah,other than that."

After about zero seconds of careful consideration,he had come to a conclusion, "Well,I guess nothing,but I dont know? Cameron, I don't see how this changes-"

"It *changes* things because clearly you don't anything about half the guys at our school. And you can't write off people you don't even know." At some point, Cameron had gotten up and started pacing around,but with the end of this triumphant speech,he finally sat down,a little closer to the other boy than he had been before.

Charlie looked across at Cameron and was suddenly met with a wave of fondness. Weird,how all it took was to sit and talk for a while before someone you thought you near hated,started to feel like your favorite person in the world. And,was he going completely crazy or Cameron at his most comfortable, without the fear of a teacher lurking nearby,without the stress of constantly trying to prove himself,was he... A little..... attractive??

All at once,Charlie made a decision,partly to try and prove himself wrong,but also because hey,if Richard Cameron was the surprise love of his life,what better time to figure it out than right now?

"So how,sir Richard Cameron,do you propose I get to know all these charming suitors?"

Cameron, completely in the dark about Dalton's recent epiphany,was still stubbornly trying to explain how much easier Charlie's love life could be,if only he would let it.

"Well,maybe by actually talking to them? Y'know,kind of like,What we're doing right now."

"So,what you're saying is,*you* could be my knight in shining armor," he said with a smirk.

"Well,that's not what-"

"No,no it's fine,as long as we're talking about this version of you. Regular Cameron is kind of a buzzkill but Cave Cam is actually a kind of.... And I can't believe I'm saying this but,in here,like this...well. You're actually a little hot."

After this, overwhelmingly romantic confession, Charlie was certain he had completely stuffed it,and sure enough,

"Gee Charlie,thanks. Really makes me wanna ride into the sunset with you." To say Cam's ego had been hit was an understatement,but before he could make a swift exit from the cave and lock himself,alone,in his dorm for the rest of the weekend,of course Dalton kept talking.

"God,I'm sorry,that was, I have no idea why I said that. I thought I was being funny but out loud- god I'm so sorry," while he had initially been mad,seeing Charlie fucking Dalton blush (and because of *him* no less) was rather funny. And sure,a little cute. So Cameron decided to hear him out.

"Can I start over? You're not saying anything so I'm gonna start over. I,uh, I really do think you're hot. Like really hot. And not just right now,all the time,like that time we were at rowing practice and I started pushing you around and we ended up on the floor and I saw like,a single sliver of skin because your sweater had ridden up,and I couldn't stop thinking about it all day,which I thought was a little weird but then-"

"Uh,I think I get it,Charlie." Now Cameron was the one blushing.

"Uh,sorry. What I meant was,that I *do* think you're hot l-"

"As you've said"

"Yeah,yeah,but it's more than that. Like,when I realized we'd basically be spending the whole weekend alone together,I was actually sorta excited for that,even though I knew I'd just be sitting by you while you did homework the whole time,I like,wanted to do that. And tonight,I haven't talked like this with anyone who isn't Neil like,ever. What I mean is,I guess,is that,I think that uh,"

Deciding to lighten the mood,Cameron tried for a little sarcasm, "Wow,Dalton, stuttering? I must be superman or something."

"I'm trying to be romantic here Carrot top," Charlie said with a grin,

"Listen,I don't really know what I'm doing here,but I think it might be kinda nice if we tried having a little romantic weekend of our own. Just to try it. If it totally sucks we can pretend it never happened and the others don't have to know about it and-"

"Charlie."

"Yeah?"

"Relax," Cameron said with yet another laugh ,he didn't think he laughed like this since... Well,he couldn't even remember.

So with a radiant smile on his face,he said,"A romantic weekend of our own sounds amazing. Gotta warn you tho I'm not a great kisser."

"Well, lucky for you I am a great teacher," Charlie replied,with a somehow even bigger smile on his face than Cameron's,

"Why are you laughing,I *am* a great teacher!" Unfortunately for Charlie,his indignance only made Cameron laugh harder.

"I'll believe that when I see it."

"If you shut up and stop laughing,maybe you'll get to." After this was all it took to get the ginger to sober up, the look on his face pushed Charlie to make his final,but (in his opinion) most important decision of the night.It was high time he flirt with Cameron way more often (which was *very* difficult to explain to the other poets,at least the first time).

[kookiesjoonies]

risk it — jjk | nine.

risk it | nine: one more chance.

a/n: i know this update is kinda late, pls forgive me. xo 

↠ main pairing: tattoo artist!jungkook x salon owner!reader

↠ side ships: namjin, vmin (fwb), hoseok x makeup artist!oc

↠ word count: 2.1k

↠ warnings: angst (duh lol), language 

SERIES SUMMARY:

✧ a drunken text ends with you wrapped up in the arms of your ex-boyfriend. aka the man that you dumped two years prior, after he refused to marry you. suddenly, all of the feelings that you’d seemingly had buried come rushing back up to the surface, and you’re not sure how long you can ignore them.

Jungkook’s hands were gripped onto the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles had begun to turn white. His lips were pursed, brows narrowed, and chest heaving with angry breaths as he drove toward your salon. 

He had half a mind to turn around and drive in the opposite direction— to your apartment, where Yoongi was, and pummel him into the ground until he was bruised and bloody from head to toe. 

But he wanted to see you more. He wanted to tell you exactly what he thought about you having sex with his ex best friend, and he wanted to know exactly what the two of you had done together. 

Ever since Taehyung had sent that fucking picture in the group chat, it was all he could think about. He kept imagining Yoongi’s hands traveling up and down your body, Yoongi’s mouth trailing down your stomach, and every time he’d envision Yoongi fucking you into your mattress all he saw was red. 

When he finally pulled into a parking spot outside of the front door, he took a deep breath and ran the palms of his hands down his face in an attempt to mentally prepare himself for what was to come. 

The sign above the door read Kookie Cutters, and he couldn’t help but to shake his head as memories of the two of you together flooded back in. 

He was lying next to you on your shared bed, one hand mindlessly on your breast (as it always seemed to be), while his other hand held the television remote. 

You’d been trying to come up with a name for your business all afternoon, and at first, he was eager to help. But after you shot down all fifty of his suggestions, he’d resorted to just nodding and grunting as he let you ramble on. 

 “I want the name to be something unique, yet personal. Something that nobody else has thought of.” 

He nodded his head in agreement, attention more focused on the soccer game in front of him than on your words. 

You rolled your eyes, plucking a pillow from behind his head and swatting him with it. 

“Hey! I was listening!” He insisted, swatting your attack away with his hands. 

“Uh huh, so what did I say?” You lifted a brow, hands on your hips. 

He smirked at your newfound attitude, always finding it so adorable and endearing. 

“Alright, alright. You caught me.” He admitted, to which you let out an annoyed sounding huff. 

“Kook! This is important!” your eyes lit up then, a theoretical lightbulb switching on above your head, “Wait, that’s it! I’ve got the name!” 

“Care to share with the rest of the class?” Jungkook teased, and you playfully punched his shoulder. 

“Kookie Cutters, but… spelled like your name.” You visibly blushed as you told him your suggestion, and he was sure you were the cutest person he’d ever laid eyes on.

“Sounds good to me.”

Jungkook inhaled one final deep breath before wrapping his hand around the door handle and opening it up, stepping inside of the decently sized building. 

He was immediately greeted with the smell of bleach and hairspray, the sound of gossiping hairdressers and clients buzzing through his ears. 

The place had grown impressively since the last time he’d been. You’d obviously hired more help, as well as made several renovations to the store’s overall aesthetic. The walls that used to be the ugliest shade of puke green were now a stylish cool toned grey, and the once tile floors had been replaced with dark rustic hardwood. You’d replaced the cheap light fixtures with spectacular chandeliers, and the waiting area that used to have a sofa and a small tv now housed several chairs and two wall mounted flat screens.

It suited the place, he thought. It suited you. 

“You look lost.” A feminine voice pulled him out of his trance, and he turned to face none other than Lee Mina. 

He offered her a small shrug, his eyes still looking the place over and attempting to catch sight of anything he might’ve missed. 

“Just impressed, is all. Looks a lot different than it did two years ago. Well, I mean, other than the name.” 

“You’re a cocky son of a bitch, you know that?” The brunette crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her toes on the floor below, exuding annoyance from every single one of her pores. 

“I’ve been told that a time or two, yeah.” He confessed, looking past her and scanning the other women in the salon— looking for you. 

“She’s in her office,” Mina informed, “but I highly doubt she wants to see you.” 

“I told her I was on my way here.” 

“Awfully bold of you to come into a place filled to the brim with scissors and bleach, don’t you think?” Mina held a bite to her voice that damn near sent shivers down the man’s spine. 

Luckily, you finally made an appearance and stood beside your hard headed friend. 

“Down, girl,” you placed a hand on her shoulder, nodding toward the waiting area, “you’ve got a client, no time for poisoning my ex boyfriend.” 

“Trust me,” she started, shooting a death glare in Jungkook’s direction as she began to walk away, “I can make time.” 

Jungkook was sure that if looks could kill, he’d be six feet under right now. 

“She doesn’t like me, does she?” 

You scoffed, hands on your hips.

“Can you blame her?” 

No, he couldn’t. 

He sighed, rubbing nervously at the back of his neck, “Can we go somewhere and talk?” 

You nodded, “Yeah, we can go into my office. Follow me.” 

He did as he was told, keeping a safe distance between the two of you as he walked behind you. 

“I like what you’ve done with the place, by the way.” 

You mumbled a thank you as you opened up your wooden office door, stepping aside and gesturing him to go in before you. 

Your office was just as impressive as the main space, but Jungkook could tell that you’d taken the time to make this room more personal. Pictures of you and your friends hung on the wall behind where your glass desk was sat, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t upset him to see that there weren’t any pictures of you two. Not that he’d expected there to be. 

Apparently, you could see the way that his face seemed to fall at that realization, and you were quickly bumping his hip to turn his attention to the picture frame beside your laptop. 

It was a photo of you and Jungkook, around seventeen years old, he guessed. His hair was much shorter, and his skin had a lot less ink— as in, had no ink. Yours was the same way, bare and tattooless. Jungkook was kissing your cheek in the photo, and you were grinning from ear to ear with your metal braces on full display. 

He couldn’t help but to reach out and touch it, allowing his fingers to ghost over the picture as he reminisced about the past. You’d become his everything when the two of you were just sixteen, the typical high school sweethearts cliché. 

He shared his first kiss with you, and you shared yours with him. It was so bad— teeth clacking and tongues unsure of what to do. But eventually, the two of you figured it out. Together. 

Your first time having sex was even worse, because neither of you even managed to cum. Maybe you would’ve, if Jungkook’s mom hadn’t walked in in the middle of it and proceeded to give you the world’s longest speech about how she was too young for grandchildren. 

“Did you really think I’d have pictures of everyone else, but leave you out?” You asked, taking a step forward and leaning your back against the desk beside him. 

“Guess it shouldn’t shock me,” he shrugged, straightening his posture as he sat on the edge of the desk and allowed one leg to dangle down, “seeing as how I still have a picture of you on my station at the shop.” 

“You know,” he laughed, shaking his head, “I was so mad before I came here. Really, my blood was boiling. But as soon as I laid eyes on you—“ 

“Don’t,” you cut him off with a wave of your hand, “just say what you came here to say, Jungkook. 

You weren’t looking at him, your eyes were staring straight forward at the frames hanging on the wall in front of you. He could see the way they were glossed over, tears threatening to spill out at any moment. 

He’d made you cry so many times before, and every single time he did he felt like he was dying— like all of the air was being slowly sucked from his lungs. 

“Bug, don’t cry,” he stood in front of you instantly, his hands instinctively finding their way onto the sides of your face, “I just wanted to apologize, to tell you that I’m sorry for hurting you.” 

You closed your eyes, and to his surprise, leaned into his touch. He swiped his thumb across your cheekbone as a single tear fell down, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 

“You keep saying that,” you choked out, fully allowing the sobs to take over your body now, “but you don’t ever make any effort to stop doing it!” 

Your body began to shake, and you could no longer hold yourself up. The weight of everything that had happened recently, and in the past, was clearly getting to you. You fell against Jungkook’s chest as you continued to choke out pitiful sobs, and he used his strong arms to hold your body up to keep you from slipping to the ground. 

“I c-can’t do this anymore, Kook! I’m so in love with you that I feel it in every inch of my body, but all you seem to want to do is h-hurt me,” you continued to ramble, using the back of your hand to wipe at your nose, “and I know you don’t mean to sometimes. But sometimes y-you do! And I just— I miss you, I miss who you used to be. I miss the guy that loved me and treated me right when we were teenagers! I know he’s in there somewhere, so either dig deep and f-find him or stay the f-fuck out of my life because I—“ 

The sound of Jungkook’s own sobbing cut you off. He’d begun stroking your hair with his hand as he let you get everything out, but it wrecked him to know he was making you feel this way. 

“I’ll try and be better, I swear to God I will. You’re all I’ve ever fucking wanted, and I am so sorry for all the hurt and pain I’ve caused you. You deserve so much better than me,” he lifted your chin with his fingers so that his sad eyes could meet your own, “but if you’ll give me one more chance… I swear I’ll be the man that you need me to be.” 

He could tell that the gears of your mind were working in overdrive, weighing out the pros and cons of putting your trust in him again. He hoped with every fiber of his being that you would, because come hell or high water, he was going to prove to you that he was worth your love again. 

You lifted your hands up to meet his face, wiping his tears from his cheeks and tucking his long strands of hair behind his ears. 

“Okay. One more chance.” 

The sigh of relief that Jungkook breathed out could no doubt be heard from the other side of the world. He nodded once, taking in the fact that you’d actually agreed to have him in your life full time again, even on a trial basis. 

His forehead leaned against your own as he pulled you tighter against him, giving your body with the tightest embrace— scared that at any moment, you’d change your mind and run in the opposite direction. 

“I promise you won’t regret this, bug. I mean it, I—“ 

Jungkook was cut off by Mina swinging open the door to your office and announcing your presence with her seemingly always excited, high pitched voice. 

“Oh, my God! I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to interrupt, it’s just— uhm,” she was stammering awkwardly, and speaking way too quickly, “Yn, you uhm… have a client. She’s waiting for you.” 

You gave her a quick nod, letting her know that you’d be out in just a minute as you wiped at the mascara running under your eyes. 

“Call me later?” you asked, finally breaking away from your ex lover’s hold, “We have a lot more to talk about.” 

“Sure thing.” 

As you turned to exit the room, you stood up on the tips of your toes and placed a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder before allowing your lips to peck a kiss to his cheek. 

“Get home safe, Kook.” 

⇠ masterlist ⇢

a/n: if you’d like to be added to the tag list, send me an ask! thanks for reading!

tag list: @ppersonna @taetaewonderland @preciouschimine @agaassi @honeyoongles @jinhitwhore @alterlovess @dontaskshhhhh @bonobonoya2001 @fan-ati–c @diorhobii @athenakyle @nerdycookiemonster-1222 @ashleyjoyx @sadgalsadpal @shaktibhardwaj @jeonsbananamilk @bat-shark-repellant @jkhey97 @sterynlis @aizuwusho @krystle1990 @crazylittlemay @betysotelo18 @cypheruby @deadleaves278 @awesomekpoptrashblogposts @styxdagger @kookoo-kachoo @jungkooksseuphoria @imluckybitches @ayasanuwu @sugaminh @kisskoos @tae165 @themyscirarey @janetgordyx3 @mini-coop25 @out-of-jams @sugalarity @yoongissugarmommy @missseoulite @amoreguk @meesheru @namugguk @guksweet @55west81st @barbikatherine @ilyeuphoria @jeon-joker

if you aren’t tagged, it’s because tumblr won’t let me tag certain people for some reason. so sorry! :(

[kitty0boy]

More Marichat fanfiction because I’m obsessed.

It’s set a bit in the future so Adrien is 18 and Marinette is 17. Chat is grown up and can use multiple cataclysms but Marinette isn’t yet (I think the age will be 18 so yeah). It’s also reverse love square, so Ladybug is in love with Chat and Adrien is in love with Marinette

———————————

Another day, another akuma. Recently, Hawkmoth had toned down on the frequency of Akumas, maybe he supposed that he would only akumatize the more powerful emotions and oh boy, was this one really mad.

His name was Trickster, his power was shapeshifting. Doesn’t seem very destructive at first but he can turn himself into anything his little heart desires. From blood sucking mosquitoes to giants straight out of a fairy tale to a frog? This guy could do it all. The problem was, what couldn’t he do? How would they stop him?

She was running a little late to the action, who knew getting away from class during a life threatening disaster would be so difficult. Spotting her beloved partner, she landed beside him. “What have we got today kitty?”

“Just your average asshole Ladybug.” He muttered obviously angry.

“You know this guy?” She asked, why was he so mad about this one?

“Not purrsonsly, he was harassing women on the street, following them around. That is until he was called out for it and arrested.”

“You wouldn’t happen to be the one to correct his behaviour, would you?” Silence. She looked up at him, oh he looked seriously ticked off.

She quickly changed the subject. “Well let’s take care of this quickly. Any idea where his akuma is?”

“His camera maybe, or his phone.” He clenched his fists. “Mon dieu what a creep.”

“Alright let’s get a closer look then shall we?”

He nodded before he extended his baton towards the now troll running down the street. His giant club dragging along the ground behind him leaving an indent every time it bounced off the pavement. Without warning he whipped around and threw it into the air, catching on Ladybug’s yo-yo and sending her flying backwards. Twisting mid air she grabbed onto a street lamp, saving her face from scraping the road. Then she was off again, swinging from roof to roof towards the, what was he now? A Yeti?

“Lucky Charm!” She called and down dropped a baseball? Seriously?

She looked everywhere but couldn’t find what to use it for. She raced around looking for its purpose but nothing came into view. “Come on, come on.” She panicked.

Cat looked over, noticing her struggling. “How much time do you have left?”

“Two minutes! I need more time.” She was shaking now, she couldn’t afford to detransform now. It was too dangerous.

“Got it, brace yourself little bug!” Raising his arm in the air he called for his “Cataclysm!” And pressed his hand to the ground creating a giant crater under Trickster’s feet. He only sunk about 2 feet before becoming a raven and flying high above them. So much for getting more time. She had no choice but to leave. She tossed her lucky charm to Chat Noir and hoped he got the message, he looked over to her and nodded before using his baton like a baseball bat launching the ball at Trickster. Well at least the Lucky Charm had some use. She ran until her last dot beeped and slipped into an empty alleyway.

“That was a close one Tikki, I can’t wait until I grow up.” Tikki flew into her purse and pulled out a cookie. “Don’t worry Marinette, you’ll grow up soon. In the meantime Chat Noir will cover for you.” Her heart fluttered a little at the thought of him. “Yeah, I wonder how old he is.”

“Marinette you can’t know each other’s-“

“Identities I know” she cut off “I just want to know when I will be old enough.” Tikki scrunched her face in contemplation, “18” she said, decided it was ok.

“Really! That’s so soon, oh I can’t wait!” She exclaimed. A little too loudly apparently. She heard footsteps, she needed to transform but Tikki wasn’t ready yet. “Hide Tikki.” She whispered before pulling out her phone. Using the camera, she peeked around the corner only to see a tiger creeping towards her. She gasped slightly as she moved backwards, trying not to make any noise. That was when she heard a small thump behind her and a hand covered her mouth. Before she could scream she felt him lean towards her ear “It’s me.” He whispered before scooping her up quietly and trying to figure out how to escape. Marinette looked around and spotted a window on the second floor of the building beside them. He caught on and calling for another cataclysm, reduced the glass to ash. He lifted her inside before climbing up himself.

“Follow.” He instructed before creeping towards the back of the office building. They found an elevator and before he could press the button she grabbed his shoulder, which made him turn around. She pulled him down to whisper in his ear. “Wouldn’t an elevator be too loud kitty?” He paused thinking, “What do you propose?” She looked over his other shoulder and saw a staircase. “We take the stairs.”

“That might take too long, we have to get you out of here fast.”

“You have superpowers Chat, it shouldn’t take that long if you carry me.” His cat ear twitched and without warning he wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted her off the ground making a beeline for the stairs. The stairs were those kind of box-y spiral staircases so standing between the gap, he extended his baton causing them to shoot upwards, as if they were in an elevator. She had to tuck her head into his shoulder to avoid smacking it on the bottom of each flight. Reaching the top he put his baton away and wrapped both his arms around her, one behind her back, which caused her to blush, and one under her thighs.

And they were off, though he didn’t get very far before a pigeon started to follow them. She spotted it but wasn’t sure if it was him. “Take a left!” She yelled over the wind and he did, so did the bird. When it turned, a flash of light blinded her but he was still a pigeon. The light came from his foot, which could only mean, she gasped “Chat, he’s wearing a ring! That’s where the akuma is!”

“As helpful as that is purrincess, I can’t do anything until I make sure you’re safe. We’ve gotta get him off my tail.” He huffed in frustration, or from exhaustion. One of the two

She looked around before an idea came to her.

“Cat the sewer system! We need to get down. That way he can’t sniff us out!”

“Got it, hold on tight!”

He quickly pulled something out of his pocket. A blue slice of cheese and popping it into his mouth. He repositioned her so he was carrying her bridal style. “Power up!” He yelled. She felt his hand leave her legs before he twisted around and jumped off the roof, they were going to splat on the road! “Cataclysm!” He growled before extending his hand backwards towards the ground. It made contact with the pavement and it crumbled beneath his hand, they fell straight through the street and she heard him grunt as his back collided with the water. She held her breath. This was gross, something pressed to her lips and she grabbed it inhaling. He started kicking his feet swimming with the current. She had to keep her eyes closed. Luckily it had rained the day before so the water wasn’t just garbage. It was just as disgusting as you’d think it is, but if she had to choose between death and garbage water, this was her best bet. He took a leap before they left the water. Laying side by side. She propped herself up on her elbow and took the baton out of her mouth. Cringing at the stench, she peeled her shirt away from her body, jeez this sucked.

“Sorry Marinette, I was hoping we’d land on the floor.” He panted, she reached over and patted him on the shoulder.

“It’s ok, I’d take sewer water with you over death any day.

Was he blushing, or were his cheeks tinged from the cold water? Catching his breath he stood and held a hand out to her. She took it and stood. He smiled at her and she smiled back. “Claws in” he whispered “Woah woah woah!” She covered her eyes quickly and turned around. He chuckled behind her “Relax m’lady, I just took off my power up.” M’lady? Isn’t that what he called Ladybug? She felt her face grow hot under her hands. “I thought Ladybug was your lady?” She said before she could stop herself. He stammered “O-oh right my bad. I guess the cat got My tongue.” She chuckled slightly before turning around to smile at him, he smiled back and she felt little akumas flutter around her stomach. He eyes drifted from his to his lips. Was he wearing chapstick? What did it taste like? Ugh snap out of it Marinette, there’s an akuma! “Thank you kitty, I’ll be safe down here.”

“I’m not convinced. You’re still out in the open, even if you’re down here. It might be risky to leave you here.” He raised a claw to his chin, trying to decide if he wanted her to stay there.

“Purrhaps if a certain superhero was distracting him, he would leave me alone.” She grinned at her clever wording. She wasn’t usually the type to make puns, but she had to admit, they were kinda fun.

He giggled a little at her pun ‘adorable’ she thought. “You’re right, just please stay safe ok, find a place to hide.” He placed his hands on her shoulders, his thumb brushed over her collar bone and made her blush. “O-ok I will.” She stammered a little breathless. Seriously? She thought she got over the stammering a long time ago. Suddenly, a gloves hand brushed across her forehead before she felt something soft press against it. He pulled back and gave his signature salute before sprinting away from her. Her hand came up to touch the spot where his lips were seconds ago, her face burned and she knew it was as red as her super suit.

“Marinette focus! We’ve got an akuma to capture!” Tikki squeaked. Marinette jumped a little, she completely forgot Tikki was there.

She smacked both sides of her face with her hands “Right! Tikki spots on!” She ran towards an opening, and leapt out, following the trail of footprints no doubt left by the akuma.

She saw Chat Noir pinned to a wall under a bent street lamp, he couldn’t reach it with his hand. The giant shrunk down and changed into an elephant and using its trunk, it made to grab Chat’s miraculous. He almost grabbed it, until her yo-yo wrapped around the trunk and launched him into the building across the street. She ran over to Chat and using all of her strength she pulled the street lamp off of him.

“Thanks bug, the akuma is in his ring.” ‘Bug’ she thought

“Ok then, let’s hope it works this time. Lucky Charm!” And down fell another baseball, the same as before.

“Maybe it was the location last time?” He reasoned.

But she still couldn’t see anything. Was her power broken? “I’ll figure it out, can you provide a distraction?” She asked, “Gladly.” He smiled reassuringly before sprinting towards Trickster.

‘Look at your wrist.’ She had no idea where the thought came from, was that Tikki? She looked down and saw a little bracelet with a loop on it, almost like the loops on a bra. She stared at it curiously “Look out!” She heard before her partner tackled her to the ground. “I don’t know what is interesting about your arm, but please figure it out soon.” He stood and using his baton as a shield, he repelled what looked like water balloons. They were launched back at the akuma who dodged each one, they exploded when they broke.

Chat’s baton flashed red with black spots, it was working! She looked around, the bracelet flashed, and so did her yo-yo and then she saw it. Her yo-yo had a little hook carved into it. She slipped the hook into the loop on the bracelet and the yo-yo spun out into a proper shield. “That’s new.” She exclaimed. Suddenly the vision of Chat using his baton like a baseball bat popped into her head. The solution hit her, “Chat I know what to do!” She yelled leaping out from behind him. The akuma transformed into a giant again and Chat looked at her, “Batter up kitty!” She yelled before pitching the ball to him. He got the idea and hit the ball back to her. She repositioned and angled the shield towards the akuma’s hand. It made contact with the shield and the giant tried to hit it away, but not before it cracked the ring and the akuma fluttered away.

She captured it “bye bye little butterfly!” Throwing the baseball into the air she yelled “Miraculous Ladybug!” And the streets looked good as new.

“Pound it!” The duo said with a fist bump.

The police arrived just in time and arrested the man. “Oh come on I didn’t even do anything wrong! It’s not a crime to take pictures!” He pleaded, “It is to take pictures of people without their consent!” Chat retorted before the door closed and the cruiser sped off.

A small beep came from her earrings, “I’ve gotta go Chat Noir, I’m proud of you though.” She smiled before hooking her yo-yo onto a chimney. “What for?” He asked. “For standing up for those women, being cat-called and followed is terrifying, those women wouldn’t get justice if you hadn’t stepped in. I’m sure they appreciated it very much. Bug out!” She yelled before taking off.

She landed close to where Chat left her and detransformed. “You figured it out! Oh I knew you would.” Tikki came up to hug her cheek. “Figured what out?”

“Your yo-yo can change functions! You figured out how to turn it into a shield today. Chat can do the same thing with his baton.” She explained. Maybe they should experiment on patrol tomorrow then, versatility of their weapons would really help with defeating Hawkmoth. Tikki squeaked suddenly and flew into her purse.

Marinette stood confused before she heard a thud beside her and was encircled by a pair of very strong arms. “There you are, you’re ok.” Chat pulled back and smiled at her.

“Of course I am, I’m a good hider.” She said and put her hands on her hips. He chuckled slightly and crossed his arms.

“What were you doing so close anyways?” He asked, “I uh was getting footage for the Ladyblog.” She lied, he furrowed his brows and stood up straight, “That’s really dangerous Marinette, especially with how strong Hawkmoth is now. You can’t be running around chasing after super villains anymore.”

She looked to the ground, even though it was a lie, hearing him disappointed in her still didn’t feel good.

He sighed before lifting her chin. “I just don’t want you to get hurt Mari, today was a close call. If I hadn’t found you who knows what would have happened. Just promise you won’t chase after Akumas anymore.”

“I promise, I’m sorry.” She said

“It’s ok, besides, if it’s footage you want, I’ve got a camera on my suit.” He said calmly. “Wait really? Where?” She was curious now, did her suit have a camera too? He reached up and flicked the bell on his neck. He lifted his chin as she stood on her toes to get a closer look, sure enough, there was a little camera peeking out from the slit in his bell.

“Woah that’s so cool! And helpful. You should tell Alya, that might make her back off.” Maybe Ladybug should tell Alya too, footage from not one but two superheroes! Besides, maybe they could analyze that footage and see where the akumas come from. “So now that that’s sorted, would like a lift back to school? Lunch just ended didn’t it?” Oh shoot she forgot! “Yeah a ride would be great! I’ve got a-“ she paused in confusion, why did his face turn crimson? Oh mon dieu, she really needed to work on her wording. Her face also grew hot with embarrassment and she looked away from him.

He cleared his throat, “Ok then let’s go.” He turned around and kneeled so she could climb onto his back, that was probably a good idea.

She wrapped her arms around his neck again and he stood holding her thighs for support. In one leap they were on the roof tops running towards her school.

Alya was waiting at the front for her and gasped when she saw the best friend on the back of one of Paris’ superheroes.

“Delivery for a Ms. Cesaire?” He joked, “That would be me.” She teased back Marinette slid off his back and was immediately tackled in a bear hug by Alya, “Where were you girl! We were worried sick!”

“I went to get footage for you, it was clearly a bad idea.” She said for consistency. “Oh Mari, you don’t have to do that for me, if I want footage, I’ll go get it myself.”

“Well in my opinion,” Chat cut in “Marinette’s technique is much more subtle than yours. I guess it just didn’t work out today.” Marinette puffed up her chest and gave a triumphant “Hmph” and the three of them burst into laughter.

“Well I’d better get going.” He said,

“Let me guess,” she put on her best Chat impression “Damsels in distress, ladies in waiting, you’ve got a lot more saving to do,” she mimicked “I can thank you, later?” He laughed at that, “I’m surprised you remember that, look out Ms. Blogger, you got competition for Chat Noir’s #1 fan.”

“A battle that was lost long ago kitten, between you and me, her sketchbook is filled with outfits inspired by your,” she raised a hand dramatically to her forehead “beauty.” She finished, “ALYA!” Marinette squeaked.

He laughed “Well I am honoured purrincess.” He bowed before turning around and grabbing his baton to leave. Something burned inside her and without thinking she walked towards him. “Chat wait!” She nearly yelled, as he turned around she tripped and grabbed his bell trying to pull herself upright.

She meant to kiss him on the cheek, she swears! But he’d turned his face towards her and her lips crashed into his. He was caught off guard but quickly kissed her back, reaching up to caress her cheek with his hand.

Realizing what was happening she pulled back and felt her face go hot again. “Uh I, thank you for saving me.” She mumbled and rubbed her forearm. She looked up at his face, which was tinged a pretty shade of pink. He reached up and ruffled her hair, “Anytime Marinette.” There was something about the way he said her name that caused little butterflies to flutter in her stomach and chest again. He gave her a wink before leaping off.

“Ok girl spill!” Marinette jumped and turned to see Alya holding her phone. “Alya did you take a picture!” She squeaked. “I won’t post it, this is just for me. Ooh maybe I’ll send it to Chat too.”

Her face burned as Alya led her back to class.

—————————————

Thanks for reading!

[arianaofimladris]

Predictable

A Marvel fic for a change, because I still don’t like Infinity war and wanted to tell myself a better story,

Predictable

 The last Thor remembered before the emptiness of the space sucked everything, was clinging to his brother. Then there was nothing but darkness.

The next thing he registered was lying on the floor of what seemed to be a space ship, not his spaceship, with a bunch of multiracial strangers leaning over him. He was on his feet in an instant, stumbling as his numb, half frozen legs almost refused to carry his weight. Backing away as far as the cramped ship allowed, he took in his surroundings. He found the lot staring at him.

Straightening, Thor returned the stare, turning his head to acknowledge them all. There was a Midgardian man and a short furry creature that looked like some kind of animal. Another man of bulky posture stood to the left, accompanied by a green-skinned lady with fiery red locks. A strange young woman with glowing antennas stared with her eyes wide open, and behind her a young flora colossus observed him from over a game pad of sorts. Together, they probably made the strangest company Thor had ever met.

“Who the hell are you, guys?” He asked in confusion. Lightning cracked between his fingers, readying for the fight that could possibly come. His experience with the strangers of late had not been overly positive.

"Woah, easy, man!" The Midgardian raised his hands in an universal peaceful gesture, while the strange furry creature at his side pulled out a blaster. “Rocket, not here!” He chastised. The creature rolled his eyes but lowered his weapon, if slightly. The others just watched Thor, apparently still surprised by his awakening.

“Not exactly a thank you we could expect,” Rocket muttered with reproach. “You know, we have just literally picked you up from the fuckin’ space. Mantis there woke you,” he made a vague gesture towards the woman with antennas.

That was when Thor realised what he was missing."Wh-where's my brother?"

"You mean the stiff over there?" Rocket pointed to his left. As Thor turned his head to follow his hand, he saw the familiar form laying on the floor. "You two were kinda tangled. Not much we can do there, sorry."

"No..." Thor’s knees buckled treacherously and the lightning sparkling around his fists shot uncontrollably, crafting a smoking hole right next to a control pad.

“Whatever you’re doing, don’t!” The Midgardian cried. “You’ll blow up my ship!”

“It’s my ship!” Rocket huffed in annoyance.

But the lightning disappeared just as quickly, Thor’s energy already spent in the battle with Thanos. He barely had it within him to stand. He forced himself to move towards Loki, grasping at whatever he could find within his reach as his legs threatened to cease carrying him.

Mantis got there first. She knelt by the unmoving figure and rolled him on his back. "He's not dead," she gasped, a hint of surprise visible as her black eyes blinked.

"Holy shit, what?!" The Midgardian choked. “How the hell is this possible?”

“Not as beautiful and strong as this one, but perhaps his strength lies elsewhere,” mused the bulky man. The comment made Thor stop for a second, so out of place it seemed.

“Drax, not now,” someone muttered, but Thor didn’t pay attention who.

"Not-" He stumbled again in his eagerness to reach his brother, desperately clinging to the tiniest string of hope.

"He's terrified and hurting, but not dead, Peter.” Mantis said to the Midgardian as she kept her hands hovering over Loki’s head. “I can wake him too."

"No, wai-"

But it was too late. With Mantis's gentle touch Loki jerked awake. A scream caught in his throat and his hand flung up. He coughed, his breathing coming in hitched gasps, and kept pulling frantically at the collar of his gear, unable to grasp a lungful of air.

Thor fell on his knees beside him as Mantis scrambled away. "Lo- Loki, stop!" He grasped his wrists and pinned them to the floor, leaning forwards so that he could be seen. “It’s alright!” His voice carried the edge of hysteria that contradicted his words.

It didn't work. Loki made a pained noise and his left hand froze, but his breathing was just as hectic. “Th’r,” he wheezed and Thor sighed in relief that at least his brother seemed to recognise him.

“He’s gone for now. Thanos is not here,” Thor promised hastily. Whoever these guys behind him were, they seemed friendly enough, or at least not too willing to kill them on sight. Thor didn’t have much energy left to spend on dwelling whether they could have had some ulterior motives and had picked them from the space for their own benefit.

“Thanos?” The green-skinned lady, who kept silent so far, repeated slowly, her voice distant.

“You know of him?” Thor let his eye fall off Loki and he turned to face her, cursing internally his inability to see the whole room without moving. It was a disadvantage he had yet to work on in fight.

“Gamora is the daughter of Thanos,” the big guy called Drax offered.

At that, Loki bolted upright. He managed as far as to a sitting position, but conjured a pair of daggers even as Thor placed himself between the strangers and his wounded brother. Loki’s left hand seemed useless and the knife fell from his grasp, so he clung to the other, desperately trying and failing to haul himself up.

“Thanos slaughtered half of my people and almost killed my brother!” Thor growled and dragged himself back to his feet. Crackles of lightning danced around his fists and shoulders.

“No, no, wait!” The Midgardian, Peter, rushed forward. “She wants him dead as much as you do!”

Thor glanced from him to Gamora, who nodded. He was trying hard to take her word for that when his brother looked at her with what bordered to outright fear. Loki’s posture screamed of mistrust, but Thor could also see hate and determination that steeled Gamora’s gaze as she looked him in the eye. Hesitantly, he let his arms drop and the lightning subdued.

“There are no friends of Thanos here, alright?” Rocket stepped firmly in front of the woman. “How about you guys sit down and take a breath?” He offered, which earned him a wheezing half-sob, half-laughter from Loki.

 So Thor found himself sitting on a bench with a thick blanket around his shoulders, slowly de-freezing with a bowl of hot soup in his hands. He was left with bone-deep exhaustion and a pounding headache, a courtesy of a close touch of the Power Stone, but he was alive and breathing. And he was not alone.

Loki was slumped to his right, leaning against his shoulder. It had taken some manoeuvring to get him there, as he had let no one but Thor so much as lay a finger on him. He looked no better than when he had been woken and was still half a step away from passing for a corpse, if not for his shallow, wheezing breathing. He cradled his left hand at his lap, but dared not close his eyes and go into a healing sleep. His gaze never left Gamora, even as she withdrew to the farthest part of the room.

Thor listened as Gamora talked about Thanos and his goal to wipe out half of the universe. His anger would have boiled untamed, had it not been for his exhaustion. The Thanos he faced had wielded only one stone, and still he had managed to slaughter all those who had not escaped in the pods with the Valkyrie. He had bested the Hulk. Had bested him.

A shiver and a pained gasp drew Thor’s attention from where he mulled over his soup. Loki seemed to be struggling to breathe again, his good hand hovering over but never really touching his swollen throat.

"Why is it not healing?" Thor frowned as he realised Loki’s left wrist swelled and bruised instead of getting better.

Loki's mouth stretched in a mirthless smirk for a second. "All... I... Have... Goes... For. Not. Dying," he rasped. His eyelids fell for a moment, but he snapped them open again and looked around.

"You'd better not," Thor muttered, careful not to voice too much concern about Loki's statement. His admittance alone was alarming, and in the presence of those strangers, especially Gamora, it was likely all Thor would get. Still, he had to ask. "Do you need anything? Are you hurt elsewhere?"

A minute shake of head was all response he got.

"You guys are creeping me out," Quill startled them both. "We pick you up from NOTHING, the stiff there definitely choked and dead... -ish. And now he's talking already."

"We are not easily killed," Thor offered and he wished he could feel the conviction he heard in his own voice. If anything, the most recent events had taught him that there were forces in the universe stronger than an army of Einherjar, forces that could overpower Asgardians as strong as him.

"Creepy or not, it seems you are short on whatever it is you are using to stay alive," Rocket addressed Loki as came over with a couple of small packages. "So maybe try the good old-fashioned way?" He dropped them at Loki's knees, completely ignoring how tense and utterly still he went.

Loki stared down with a frown.

"Oh, you know? Cold for the swelling?" The raccoon rolled his eyes. "Can't hurt to try. Then you can go on with the magic thing you are doing."

“Thank you,” seeing that Loki would or could not answer, Thor nodded to Rocket and wrapped the cold dressing around Loki’s wrist. “Is there a place where we could rest?” He asked, knowing well his brother would not let his guard down unless they were alone. The proclaimed hatred towards Thanos didn’t seem enough for Loki to trust them and let himself rest. If they were to go against Thanos, Thor needed his brother back in form. And, as much as he loathed to admit it, he himself needed to be able to formulate a trail of thoughts without having his head split in half.

“Oh, yeah, we could probably spare you a room for now,” Quill nodded.

“I am Groot?” The flora colossus nudged Thor expectantly. His input was unexpected, as for the whole time he seemed entirely preoccupied with his game.

“Thank you, young friend, but there’s not much you could do to help,” Thor offered him a warm smile, but Groot ignored him and reached for Loki’s wounded wrist.

Unable to back away, Loki attempted to pull his hand free and yelped. Groot ignored him too and held his hand in both of his own, concentrating. Thor was about to react and drag him away from his brother, but Groot’s efforts paid off and tiny sprouts sprang from his hands. Both brothers watched in amazement as the branches grew, entwining, and soon weaved a brace around the damaged wrist.

Cutting himself off the brace, Groot looked up back at Thor and smiled brightly. “I am Groot.”

“That was brilliant!” Thor felt a genuine smile lighten his face and he stood up, this time hauling Loki along with little effort. Wrapping his arm around his brother’s back, he tossed Loki’s good hand over his own shoulders and smiled to himself at the position he placed his brother in.

Clearly Loki recognised it too. “No. Get. Help.” He whispered and his fingers dug into Thor’s bicep.

“Well, you need it, brother,” Thor chuckled softly. Loki’s nails dug deeper.

Rocket glanced from one to the other, unimpressed. “Ugh, whatever you say. Sleep it off, guys. Over there,” he waved towards the doors to his right.

“Thank you,” Thor nodded and led Loki to where he could possibly rest. “Wake me up when it’s time to split.”

Loki shot him a confused glance. Apparently some of his conversation with the group must have slipped his attention.

Adjusting his grip on Loki’s waist, Thor answered the unvoiced question. “We are going to Nidavellir, brother.” That, at least, was a fixed part of the plan they had yet to form.

 Story can be found here too: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33583816/chapters/83450944

Please let me know what you think.