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mechaknight-98 · 7 months

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Gathering: Stomping ground

Author's note: Extremely sorry for the large gap in chapters. I was prepping for a cedh Tournament, hopefully I can reestablish some sort of consistent schedule after holiday season

A few days earlier

Eunbi Kwon glanced at herself in the mirror, a gentle smile touching her lips. She adjusted her scarf, feeling a mix of excitement and anticipation for her date with Dexter. They were meeting at a cozy café she adored, renowned for its artisanal pastries and serene atmosphere.

As she arrived at the quaint café, she spotted Dexter waiting at a table by the window, a cup of steaming tea in hand. His eyes lit up as he noticed Eunbi's approach, and he rose to greet her with a warm smile and happy wave.

"Hey, Eunbi! You look lovely as always," Dexter said, a hint of shyness in his voice.

"Thank you, Dexter. You're looking great yourself," she replied, feeling a rush of warmth at his kind words. The two embraced in a soft hug before sitting down together

They settled into a comfortable conversation, “So Dexter what have you been up to recently?”

Dexter tried to collect his thoughts before answering slowly “I just finished helping Eunbi with another side project and another photobook.” Eunbi smiled at that she loved that Dexter was helping one of her “little sisters” and that said little sister was still thriving despite the hectic life of an idol. Eunbi reached out to grab Dexter’s hand

“That’s so sweet,” Eunbi responded

Dexter smiles at Eunbi. After Dexter shared stories from his latest photography project, Eunbi talked about her latest venture into a new magical spell she'd been mastering, as well as her upcoming comeback album. It still amazed Dexter how she was still so free with her magic. (Eunbi is a white mage) Dexter struggled with it because his family had always taught him that it was a tool that was as dangerous as the sharpest knife.

Eunbi's eyes sparkled with excitement as she shared her experiences, and Dexter was captivated by her passion. He couldn't help but admire her dedication to mastering the intricate magic spells she often used on stage.

The conversation meandered from magic to shared interests in music and books. They exchanged stories of childhood memories, favorite songs, and the hidden gems they discovered in old bookstores.

They ordered a delightful array of pastries, teasing each other about who had the better choice in taste. Dexter convinced Eunbi to try the café's signature blueberry tart, and she watched his face light up as he bit into his favorite apple strudel.

As the afternoon waned, they found themselves deep in conversation, the passage of time seemingly forgotten. Eunbi felt a sense of comfort and ease around Dexter, a feeling she hadn't experienced before. He listened attentively, and she found herself sharing snippets of her life she'd never confided in anyone else.

“It’s so weird even though we’ve only known each other for a little bit I feel like I’ve known you forever, like you’ve always been a part of my life,” Eunbi said to Dex. Dexter smiled as he tried to think of an appropriate response

“You’re the best!” He decided emphatically. Eunbi smiled and chuckled at her friend’s unique way with words. Dexter began processing in his brain the current situation

“Are we boyfriend and girlfriend now?” Dexter asks seriously. Eunbi’s eyes widen as she looks at Dexter. She looks at Dexter full of appreciation and gratitude. Then she notices his hands shaking.

Seeing the power she wields over his heart she smiles and says “We absolutely are” Dexter’s hand stops shaking as Eunbi smiles at him even brighter. The next few days are quiet for the couple as spend time together and feel each other out more. This changes when Eunbi and Chaewon update Dex about Connor’s whereabouts and planned activities which results in the current call

“Yeah man, what’s up?” You say

“Oh is that Dexter? Can you tell him that his help with my Kaalia deck was so good? It runs so much smoother thanks to him.” Jen interjects

Connor listens to Dex's chuckle before he responds “You’re welcome Jen. I just wanted to talk to Connor about Pancakes and croissants.” Jen looks confused but you understand the code.

“hey, Jen I need to step out for a bit. I need to grab my clothes and stuff. I will be right back.” you say to Jen who nods in understanding. “Dex I will call you back in a bit.” Connor gets the rental and reopens the call

Connor stares at his Psionic Suppressors in the glove box. He knows Dex would tell you not to take it, but the power it scares Him.

“Glad you could call me back. “ Connor hears Dexter say, “So you’re going to an umbrella event with Yunjin as your friend I am going to ask that you take your weapons with you.” Connor stares confused at the phone

“Why’s it a strictly weapon-free gala thing?” Connor asks. Connor hears an enormous sigh from Dexter.

“you’re going to a gala where the Wesker triplets are making their public appearance, for Umbrella Corp. Mrs. Wong will also be there, and you know people still incorrectly blame her for the g-virus epidemic. If I were a person with an axe to grind and I saw that. I would absolutely do it there. The event reeks of a trap, to get even with the biggest biological arms dealers in the world.” Dexter says tiredly

“okay and do you have any proof of this? You have been out of the game for a while?” Connor questions

“No don’t do that! Don’t be bad. Do the smart thing and keep an eye out for yourself, and Jen, because if something goes wrong I can’t bail you out.” Dexter Bellows (he is completely right though)

“Okay, I will consider it,” Connor responds

“No absolutely not!! I want you to give me verbal confirmation right now that you are not going to take your psionic suppressors.” Dexter almost yells.

“Dude. Why are you so serious about this?” Connor asks Dexter who is quiet for a moment before he says something Connor never considered.

“You are my closest friend Connor. Even with Voruna messing with your head making it so we weren’t cool you are my closet confidant, ally, friend, whatever. if you die I won't have anything. So I need you to live who else is going to ride for me when things get tough.” Dexter says

"What about Eunbi?" Connor teases.

Dexter on the other side of the world furrows his brow before responding, "Listen buddy don't be such a smart alek."

Connor is silent. Dexter doesn't speak often but He decided to share his heart right here. So hearing him say those things throws Connor off. So he gives verbal confirmation.

“Great now that my heart is eased you are free to go,” Dex says

“Thanks, Mom I'll call you later…Wait wait wait? I got a question for you.” Connor says to Dex before he hangs up

“OI?” He responds

“How are you? I heard you recently Won a cedh tournament with Omnath?” Connor asks

There is a moment of silence you can almost hear the gears turning for Dexter.

“Well I, I…actually. I am good. Feeling wise, and I didn’t win I got fourth place among all of the 200 participants.” Dexter responds

“Oh, that's sick,” Connor responds.

“Yeah, thanks, man. Also before I go. How did it go with Aeri?” Dexter asks

“She put me in the brother zone.” Connor reply.

Connor hears Dexter laugh. “I am so sorry but that is too funny my guy…woo I needed that laugh” Dexter says confidently

“So what do I do?” Connor asks Dex. Who is silent again regaining his bounds to Help Connor

“Well, the Christian Church boy in me says. Go after Yunjin who has the hots for, but you don’t want to hear that so I will give you my recommendation for you; Try again. Heck, you may end up dating them both. or make the offer. I know you’re okay with polyamory so just go for it, dude.” Dexter responds. He’s silent for a minute then adds. “If you do choose one don’t give a rationale besides you were my first choice.”

“That sounded like it came from experience.” Connor teases.

Dexter laughs before saying, “It is not mine though. I watched my previous friend from college crash and burn doing this.”

“Oh, can I meet these friends? I thought I was your only friend in NYU” Connor jokes

“Sadly not anymore, due to him being dead,” Dexter responds flatly. Connor can hear the sadness in his voice.

“Okay well, I will call you later and ask for more guidance after this crap show,” Connor replies to his friend and roommate.

“OH also reminder we have that meeting with that big wig lady in South Korea for filming,” Dexter responds.

“Sick. Can we door magic this time instead of flying? I am so tired.” Connor asks his friend

“Oh yeah definitely” Dexter responds. After that, Connor hangs up. he gets back to his hotel and grabs the suit, then gets a text from Jen to meet her, winter, and Hosang at a nearby diner. When Connor arrives he smiles at his friends, glad to see them. There is a seat open next to Jen. He sits and chats with Hosang, Winter, and Jen eventually having talked long enough for it to be time to leave after they all ate. they all get up to leave and a wave of dread strikes Connor. Winter is the first to notice

“Um, Connor? Are You okay?” Winter asks. he turns to her and fakes a smile. “

Yeah I am good just got a weird vibe ya know.” he says to Winter. She nods as all of them go back to the vehicle. They all get ready and dressed then head to the Gala. That sense of dread remains in Connor though.

When The group finally gets settled in Yunjin notices Connor's collar and helps him “Gosh you’re hopeless.” she says as she spruces Him up. Connor laughs. “Jen there are some things we need to talk about,” Connor says reminded of the previous events. She looks at you and sighs.

“Later tonight let’s just have fun and enjoy each other’s time.” to illustrate her point she takes out her camera for a selfie with him. Connor smiles as they do a series of photos containing both cute and funny poses. After that Connor Jen, Hosang, and Winter all sit down at the table assigned to them. they are about to eat when Connor hears a familiar voice. his face pales and his blood runs cold.

“Connor" He turns to see none other than Alex Wesker. The man who destroyed his life. He was accompanied by two a woman who looked similar to him and a girl in a wheelchair who looked like she could be related to the other two. “See I knew it was you. Good to see you healed from the island,” he said smugly

Connor's fist clenches but Jen notices, opens his hand, and puts hers in. Connor relaxed a little. “I guess so Mr. Wesker but I suggest you don’t push your luck. There are plenty of people here who would love to see you torn apart.” you spit back

Alexander smiles. “I have always been a nuisance wherever I have gone. The masses never understood my genius,” he says smugly again

Connor's eyes narrowed as Alexander walked away. Connor was surprised when the girl in the wheelchair approached. She seemed timid and frail unlike the other two. Had it not been for the striking dyed hair and red eyes he would have thought she was normal. She got closer “Um are you Dex's roommate?” she asked meekly. It took him a minute to realize she was referring to Dexter. Connor nods. “Good can I ask if he is okay?” He pause. There is something off about her and Connor's powers kicked in but due to being out of practice, the information was extremely muddled the only thing clearly coming through was that she was not to be trusted. “He’s good, we actually have been working together.” Connor gave very little. Hoping that the wheelchair girl would not make a scene. The girl smiled

“That’s good we’ll probably all be seeing each other during Ultra Max Productions 4th generation GG showcase. Well see ya.” She says as she wheels away. Connor nods watching her roll away. His psychic powers telling him she was still not to be trusted but the rest of his senses saying “she was just a defenseless girl.” this puts him on edge however and it causes him to notice things you wouldn’t otherwise. For example each of the catering staff was wearing these conspicuous bracelets. He looks closer and begins to notice what’s on those bracelets. They are injection vector bracelets. he wonders what for, so you probe into one of the catering staff’s minds. It’s difficult at first because he hasn't done it in so long, but eventually he finds an horrifying answer.

“Oh No.” Connor exclaims

“Hey Connor?” Jen said when he finally tuned back into your friends. he gesture to all of them

“we need to leave now.” Connor says. They look at him worried. “Look you’re going to have to trust me on this. Please let’s get out of here.” he says. The group looks at him seeing his fear and nods. they begin to go back to the door. When they reach it a waiter approaches Connor.

“Oh we haven’t served the meal yet.” the waiter says pleasantly as he lifts his waist to show a firearm. “it would be a shame if you miss it.” he says pleasantly. As he does more waiters surround you. Connor zclench your fist trying not to freak out. As you are led back to your seats the “festivities” begin

“Hello, Esteemed guests and patrons of the new and revamped umbrella corporation. I am your host Carla Radames. (Carla squints as she looks at you) Oh is that the hermit? Well today just got so much better, but I am getting ahead of myself.” Connor watch as Carla steps down from the podium she was standing at. she begins walking to him

“As most of you know the new umbrella has been covering almost everything. With that reach we have unprecedented access. You can thank my daughter Astrid for that. She just loves to help her mom even if she was unaware of what she was doing. She's is such a good daughter but don’t blame her for what happens next. that was all me. Astrid just helped rebuild the company. it was my vision that allowed what you are all about to see. Waiting staff please reveal the main course.” Carla monologued. Connor watches in terror as the waiting staff turn their bracelets and begin transforming.

“See after my success with the C-Virus. I looked to my daughter’s twin half brother and half sister for guidance on creating this new virus. thankfully their notes were so well done. I was easily able to iterate on in it and improve to make this. I call it the X-Virus.”not wasting anytime Connor looks at Jen, Winter and Hosang. they all nod and make a break for it. Connor summons The Rev zero and begins shooting to give them cover.

“Oh I love a good chase scene.” Carla said. as Connor and his cadre of friends fight their way out. they quickly find these new infected are much different then the others previously faced. his bullets barely phased them. so he switched the rev zero to it's alternate firing mode which garned much higher success.

this leads to Connor and several others being pinned to the kitchen as Carla watched with a smile.

“I’m a mess, mess, mess, mess” Connor hears. he turn to Jen who’s phone is going off.

“Oh it’s a video call from Eunbi.” Connor smiles remembering he could call Dexter who would probably be helpful in this situation. he take out his phone to call him when he is pleasantly surprised to see him in the frame with Eunbi. relieved Connor says to Dexter

“Everything has gone toffee.” Connor sees the recognition in his face. In a flash he is there with weapons in hand and Eunbi close behind.

“What’s the situation?” He asks.

“It’s Mrs Radames. she is back with a new virus.” Connor answers

“Jeez it never ends does it? Okay I’ll run point you cover me?” Dexter responds. Connor nod

he does a few more magic gates and tells all of the normal people to leave. Connor asks Winter, Jen, Eunbi, and Hosang to guide them.

“Where can we find you two after this?” Jen asks.

“Well I am starving and I have been craving IHOP so let’s do that.” Dexter says. His calmness about the whole thing puts everyone, and everything at ease. Connor notices that wheelchair girl wheels over to him. she looks like she wants to say something, but can’t. he doesn’t notice since he turns to Connor and asks, “Did the Weskers have anything to do with this?”

Connor look at him confused s everything happened so fast. “Not directly more like they were used this time around. At least I think. I am still reeling to be honest.” he explains.

Dexter nods. “that’s fair. Let’s go then.” Connor follow his friend who has summoned a very scary looking sword. the two walk out to see a languid Carla watching.

“Oh the Paladin mystic Dexter what a surprise. Here to help with my revenge?” Carla says seductively. this makes Connor wonder about his friend’s relationship with the lady but now wasn’t the time to ask. His response is he lifts his sword up, and stabs the ground. a ball of Plasma explodes around them burning away many of the close infected. “Shame I missed you. Waiters please finish them.” Carla says as she takes out a grappling hook from her dress and flees the scene. the infected begin to close in on them. As promised Connor provide cover fire for Dexter. his mysterious sword leaving the infected as burned husks with each slash. they are able to clean up the remaining ones using Connor's secondary fire for the Rev 0 after clearing out the hall the remaining guest who had hidden approach Connor. One of them being Voruna. she smiles at Connor but grimaces at Dexter.

“Thank you cub.” she says as she embraces him. your friend sits down quietly waiting to leave cleaning his sword. Vector approaches the duo and says thank you in his own special way

“Your trigger discipline and aim have improved greatly.” he says in his gravelly voice. Connor smiles and give him a hug. they watch as Jake Muller and Sherry Birkin approach his friend. Connor follows their lead.

“Surprised to see you still alive kid.” Jake says to Dexter friend. He looks and smiled he shakes his hand. sherry leans down and kisses his cheek.

“What he means to say is thank you.” she says pleasantly. “Also nice tattoos they’re pretty cool.” she adds. Dexter gives his signature thumbs up and gets up.

“Ready to go?” Dexter asks. Connor nods as the two of them walk out and are approached by Astrid Wesker.

“That was surprising. I didn’t expect the two of you to be quite so strong. I may need to add security to your roles as I didn’t expect the two of you to display such strength. I look forward to working with you in a few weeks.” Connor and Dexter roll their eyes as you leave. Dexter and Connor walk out avoiding police and first responders. they eventually find the girls and Hosang waiting at the truck. “Shotgun,” Dexter says as he approaches. Jen smacks him playfully.

“Jinga? I was going to call it,” she said. Dexter smiles and hops in. The rest go to the second row.

“Where to now?” Winter asks.

“IHOP hopefully,” Dexter responds. The group laughs and so Connor drives to IHOP. the rest of the group clears out minus Dexter.

“I’ll cover Winter, Eunbi, and myself. can you cover the other half?” Dexter asks Conno nods to a friend as the two walk in. Unsurprisingly the group gets some looks. Most of them were dressed in high fashion entering an IHOP. after that they all get seated and Connor goes back to the truck to get changed. after seeing that the others follow suit. When they get back Connor and Jen laugh seeing Eunbi having taken her favorite seat. Dexter’s lap. Connor wonders if Dexter has gotten the courage to tell her how he feels. His admiration for his friend is quickly burned away when he sees what Dexter orders. Connor watches his friend order a breakfast burrito and cinnamon roll pancakes.

“I am so judging you for that,” Connor says while laughing, and he just shrugs it off.

Jen snaps her fingers at the exchange. “That’s what I love about you Dexter you always are you. You don’t change for nobody.” Dexter smiles and gives a thumbs up as he leans to the table. he is careful not to squish Eunbi. fatigue is present in his eyes. Eunbi smiles at Dexter and you.

“thank you for always protecting us. both of you.” Eunbi says.

“Anytime,” Connor says say. Dexter just smiles at Eunbi. after that the food comes, and Jen is vibing. Eunbi and her have always had the biggest appetites. While you ate you watched as Jen was vibing the whole time doing little dances here and there. As they all ate winter Hosang watched eagerly. Dexter was the first to notice.

“Hey what’s so funny?” he said as he watched the couple eating and laughing at the other four.

“It’s just you all are so American it’s funny.” Hearing this Jen smiled and scrunched her nose as she smiled at Connor. Eunbi looked up from her food and began giggling. Connor looks at his friend who had spaced out from the conversation and had gone back to eating. Connor sees Eunbi look into Dexter’s eyes. this is it. you think to yourself. the moment when Eunbi and Dexter admit they like each other.

Eunbi pokes Dexter’s nose. he smiles at her. She leans in closer he leans in closer, and they kiss. Yes, Connor thinks to himself. Connor and Jen high-five each other. when they break the kiss Eunbi has a funny look. her eyes were super wide and she said the weirdest thing to say in that situation.“I guess good guys don’t finish Last.” Dexter looks at Eunbi confused before kissing her again

#kpop fanfic #male reader #edh #mtg commander #aespa kpop #le sserafim yunjin #fanfic #kwon eunbi #izone eunbi #resident evil #resident evil 6

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year

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due to some Enid and Wednesday art I was spurred into watching it and if you're accepting requests (I got really excited seeing you write for it and didn't scroll down too far) could you write something where Enid meets an introverted new girl and they're just smitten with her immediately?

if someone like her came up to me and wanted to be friends I'd just. follow her sunshine to the end of the rainbow man. gay arrow to the heart. also fluffy werewolf gf is such bonus

The moment you stepped foot on school grounds, you were physically sickened with anxiety and dread, your throat closed in on itself as your stomach decided to loose all forms of appetite. You didn’t want to be here but through threats and force, your parents made you attend Nevermore in hopes of gaining a tolerable level of control over your powers that had only became a problem in recent memory. That was what they wanted you to believe but you knew about their ulterior motive of riding you from the house you cooped yourself in and actively engage with others of your age and situation.

You awkwardly stood at the entrance hall like a sitting duck, waiting to be shot, looking about the grand room that smelt as old as it looked as you waited for your poor unfortunate tour guide to arrive. Throughout the duration of your wait, You must’ve been either bored beyond belief or lost within the chaos of your mind because by the time you stopped counting the individual specs of dust that coated the picture frames along the the walls; A pretty blonde girl with the tips dyed in a kaleidoscope of colours and prettily painted nails was stood before you with a beaming smile.

How and when she had gotten there, you weren’t sure but you weren’t exactly against the idea of a really pretty blonde girl with an equally as pretty smile showing you around school. It certainly beats be lead by a pervert or someone with a penchant for passive aggressive comments in your books, so who were you to complain? “Hi!” She chirped and you immediately felt the cold crushing grip of anxiety ease up at the sound of her warm, serene voice as the tension in your shoulder muscles fell back into a relaxed state. “Hi…” you trailed off, not use to being a conversation starter nor continue one long enough for people to develop in getting to know you more.

You preferred to follow then lead…also you had a definitive weakness for extremely pretty girls. “I’m Enid Sinclair and if what principle Weems tells me is right, then you must be y/n.” It was obvious that Enid has a talent for having to talk for a multitude of people who don’t want to exhaust themselves in idle conversation or have no capacity to speak whatsoever. Which was a bonus for you, seeing as social interactions were never your strong suit, however Enid didn’t seem to be the most observant of a person’s character; You on the other hand had a knack for keen observation which meant that your style of approach subconsciously adjust itself when within proximity of certain people of certain caricatures.

“I am y/n, that is she- I mean me.” Your little awkward slip up made Enid smile and you swore you felt reality as you know it take a step back to observe her beautiful, beautiful smile. ‘God how much more enteral could this girl get.’ You wondered internally as she fell in pace with you whilst giving her tour of the school that you were barely paying any attention towards because firstly, how could you when someone as pretty as her was walking so closely to you and smelling that good? It made no logical sense! You believed at one point that your mind was playing cruel tricks on you becuase whenever you attempted to give yourself a little space from Enid; Only for the girl to move just a little closer to you that the fabric of your purple striped blazers were rubbing up on one another.

You even had to check you pulse at one point to make sure you hadn’t accidentally died and gone to heaven. “Oh I forgot to show you the coolest part of Nevermore!” Your breath caught in your throat as Enid grabs ahold of your arm and redirects you down the hallway past several ongoing classes; past the quad where some students were huddled together, actively skipping their least favoured lessons to let themselves loose. “Hey Enid! Hey new kid!” One of them called, a boy of quite moderate height, a nice smile and a beanie that rests atop of his head. “Hey Ajax!” Enid called back cheerfully, her grip on your arm tightened as she pulled you closer to her side which only proved in making your brain short circuit at the contact. “This is y/n, I’m just showing them them around school!”

“Hey there.” You awkwardly waved at the boy who waved backed vigorously. You had to admit, while Ajax may lack social awareness skills, he was certainly making his way up on your short list of people to go to should you ever feel lost amidst the chaos that you were soon recognising this school to be. “Well have fun you two and don’t run headfirst to the lake fully clothed. Take it from me, it’s super cold dude.” Ajax advised but before you could ask where that penitent fact came from, Enid began to drag you away once more. “He’s high.” She whispered in your ear, her warm breath brushing against your skin, causing your breath to stifle at the closeness, “they all are, actually.” She adds as she looked back at the quad as it began shying away into the background.

“Ajax seems nice.” You offhandedly mentioned. I know right!” Enid squeals excitedly, “sooo nice in comparison to my dorm mate, she’s a real ‘wow is me’ type.” The blonde must’ve seen your apprehensive stance and grimaced, “as bad as I make her out to be, she’s really cool and I think you’d both will get along just fine.” Enid attempts to rectify your view on Wednesday, already having caught on the fact that you weren’t going to be keen towards certain people at Nevermore. She could tell that you’d warm up to the likes of her and Ajax overtime which meant that you’d get along well enough with Xavier, however his popularity might be a drawback for you; Wednesday on the other hand, in Enid’s opinion, was the perfect for someone like you.

“Why? Is it because we both come across as unapproachable or too uninteresting to get to know on a deeper level?” You scoffed, “Yeah sure, we’ll get along just fine.” You added sarcastically as you looked away from Enid to hide the hurt in your eyes at the insinuation that the prettiest and most kindest girl you’ve ever met was throwing you away, to becoming someone else’s problem. You should’ve known that you could never trust a pretty face, no matter how kindly they acted; for it will always be a farce. Enid pulled herself away from your side and moved in front of you, putting her hands on your shoulders as her hurt expression mimicked your own.

“I didn’t mean it like that y/n. It’s just that you and Wednesday share similar qualities that I thought you’d be better off being better friends with someone who understands you rather then someone like me…” the blonde trails off, saddened that you couldn’t help but feel the urge to comfort her, you hated being the reason she frowned and you’d found yourself wanting to make her smile that bright smile again, anything. “If it’s of any value to you but as far as I’m aware, we already get along quite well…don’t you think?” You smiled softly at her, resting your hands against Enid’s shoulders, rubbing them comfortingly as you watched the emotions in her eyes shift from upset, confusion, then realisation, and finally happy.

“You really think we could work?” She asked as a smile crept up unexpectedly upon her lips that you had to snap yourself out of staring at them for longer then a friend should. “Oh most definitely,” You hummed in agreement and at that, Enid squealed happily before roping you into a crushing hug, her cutesy giggles purposely finding their home right in your ears as you stiffly moved your arms across her waist. “I’m so happy right now y/n, you have no idea!” She cried, tightening her grasp on your blazer as you rest your heads against the others shoulder. “If it’s anything akin to how I’m feeling right now, then I think I might have some idea.” You replied, a smile growing on your face as you stayed in each other’s embrace; You might actually get use to Nevermore.

#enid sinclair fic #enid sinclair fanfic #enid sinclair x you #enid sinclair imagine #enid sinclair x reader #Enid sinclair imagines

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valentine-cafe · 1 month

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. ˚◞♡ 𝒚𝒖𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒂𝒐 9948 𝒆 — the daughter of death◞ ₊˚

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ᥫ᭡ “ so you can drag yourself through the pits of hell, and through the realms that boil your blood to poison, but the last thing you are going to do, is see me back down. i’ve stared death in the eyes and avoided it. give me whatever pain you have in store for me. you are not making me back down, ” ꒱

. ˚◞꒰verse꒱ 9948e

. ˚◞꒰face claim refs꒱ ( x ) ( x ) ( x ) ( x ) ( x )

. ˚◞꒰species꒱ reaper

. ˚◞꒰ethnicity꒱ chinese

. ˚◞꒰age꒱ 136

. ˚◞꒰gender꒱ female

. ˚◞꒰mbti꒱ esfj

. ˚◞꒰aliases꒱ daughter of death, deathly moonmaiden, madam zhào, descendant of the first moon.

. ˚◞꒰appearance꒱

𖹭. deep dioxazine purple eyes, with slitted pupils, typically wears red makeup

𖹭. long black hair that she often keeps in a pin-up style, often neatly tied back by a hairpin of opalite with miniscule purple gems

𖹭. tanned complexion, sharp facial features

𖹭. at the tall height of 6’6” ( 198cm ) and mostly comprised of lean muscle, however does also have some tummy rolls after 6 childbirths.

𖹭. rows of sharp teeth, often wears deep red lipstick

𖹭. clawed nails often painted dark colours

𖹭. typically wears a lot of amethyst, gold and opalite jewellery. such as rings and necklaces

𖹭. standard lobe piercings extending long silver earrings studded with amethysts

𖹭. often wears long flowing hanfus of black silk and purple trimmings

𖹭. has a tattoo on her back, a large, black and dark purple dragon tattoo consisting of dioxazine roses swirling around the illustration

. ˚◞꒰personality꒱

𖹭. strong-willed, mature, responsible, graceful and elegant — Mèng Yáo a leader at nature.

𖹭. gentle and kindhearted. has a need to take care of those she loves and those who she sees are in need of the care and help.

𖹭. soft-spoken and extremely empathetic and sympathetic, always doing her best to make sure people do not misinterpret her tone.

𖹭. upholds herself with great dignity and is not quick to anger on the day-to-day.

𖹭. more sociable than she seems, and is always up for a little bit of conversation over some tea, or whichever beverage you prefer.

𖹭. do not let her mature and serene nature fool you either, the reaper is in fact still a young soul at heart at times; adventurous and curious in personality — looking at the world with inquisitive eyes.

𖹭. tends to bottle up her negative emotions; specifically her own trauma and guilt. another aspect of her not extending her own kindness onto herself would be through her duties

𖹭. overworks herself, something that is unfortunate considering that she is easily stressed.

𖹭. carries quite the impulsive tendencies within her soul. she can come off as impatient at times and is beyond stubborn as well.

. ˚◞꒰with a lover꒱

𖹭. very gentle, always whispering endearments

𖹭. leaves lingering touches whenever she walks by you, leaving you craving her. however her hands are all over you whenever she finds the time away from her duties as she misses you greatly

𖹭. loves teasing you, riling you up with all of the small barely kisses and soft touches that she gives you

𖹭. she especially loves your lips. adores tracing the curves and outlines of them before placing her own against them.

𖹭. is more talkative and silly around you

𖹭. loves stealing you away for night walks, the cold ones especially. her arms will always wrap around you and hold you close, so that she can warm you up while her face hides in your neck, her cold lips sometimes blowing raspberries against the warm skin of your neck to watch you try and jolt away from her.

𖹭. generally takes you to one of the hills in the estate where the two of you can sit with blankets and tea so the both of you can cuddle and stargaze

𖹭. dances you around the estate gardens whenever she can find the time

𖹭. while it might not be common, she does have her moments of possessiveness

𖹭. sometimes sits you down on her lap when she’s doing some admin lap, because she wishes to spend more time with you

𖹭. can sometimes fuss over you because she wants to make sure that you are doing well. can also bleed into her being rather protective

. ˚◞꒰strengths꒱

𖹭. multi soul-reaping: she has the ability to reap thousands of souls in one spot, unlike other reapers who can usually only carry an amount of 15 souls with them in one swing of a scythe.

𖹭. teleportation by vapor: she has the ability to teleport around by vapor, which grants her easier access in getting to souls who are in tight spaces or simply getting around faster during work.

𖹭. dark vapor production: she has the ability to produce an extremely dark vapor, so blinding that you aren’t sure if you are asleep or whether you were sent into a void. though to her, it is easy to navigate and move around in the dark.

𖹭. hallucinative vapor production: she has the ability to produce a hallucinogenic vapor that messes with the person or enemy it is used on.

𖹭. acrobatic fighting: she is extremely skilled in acrobatics and often cooperates them into self-defense. her movements are swift and graceful.

𖹭. illusionary trickery: she deals with the domain of illusion and can create giant illusionary fields, veils and entire illusionary cities.

. ˚◞꒰weaknesses꒱

𖹭. claustrophobia: fear of small or confined spaces.

𖹭. daylight: as a nocturnal reaper, daylight and other bright sources of light can weaken her senses of sight as she is used to the darkness of the night.

𖹭. d’akar: an anti-magic material that can greatly weaken her if she comes into contact with it.

𖹭. extreme emotional attachment: while reapers may remind one of humans, they are not. they are beings with very empathetic instincts and have souls bigger than the average mortal being — a thing that has been with them since their creation. they become extremely attached to things they love and it may cause them to become erratic if enough they love is taken away from them.

𖹭. fading: occurs when a reaper goes through immense hurt and pain. their physical form quite literally begins to disappear, making them appear transparent. it can be a very painful process, both emotionally and physically. until their physical form eventually fades away and their soul moves on to the afterlife

. ˚◞꒰story꒱

a renowned and well respected high reaper who runs the yuè sanctuary for reapers — a rest and a place of praying to death for reapers who wander across the planes and the material realm. mèng yáo runs this all by herself as she is preparing her youngest child to become the eventual owner of the large temple.

while she tends to her family sanctuary, she also has to keep check on her deadbeat husband, to assure he is not being a nuisance to the servants and the rest of the inhabitants of the estate, all while trying to also look after her 5 kids.

while mèng yáo does face quite the wear and tear at times, she never allows it to tear her down. when she falls, she will get up once again and stand among her high reaper sisters with her head held up high.

. ˚◞꒰relationships꒱

𖹭. zhào jìngyí: firstborn son, deceased

𖹭. zhào hàoyú: secondborn son

𖹭. zhào xīyáng: thirdborn son ( haitāo’s older twin )

𖹭. zhào haitāo: thirdborn son ( xīyáng’s younger twin )

𖹭. zhào yizé: fourthborn son

𖹭. zhào yŭ xī: fifthborn daughter/son/child

𖹭. zhào mùchén: ( DEADBEAT ) husband

𖹭. alessio agresta arias: would-have-been-son-in-law, raised him like her son

𖹭. lorenzo agresta arias: raised him like her son

𖹭. shimada takara: views as child

𖹭. shalika vaiysha: views as daughter

𖹭. vireshvar: views as son

𖹭. zhào talisen: son, another universe ( verse 781 )

𖹭. alessio arias: views him as son, different universe ( verse 781 )

𖹭. rishen herrera: views him as son, different universe ( verse 781 )

. ˚◞꒰extra꒱

𖹭. she can speak chinese ( mandarin ). tried to learn spanish and italian, did not go well.

𖹭. she is fluent in sign language.

𖹭. she has a raven named dahlia.

𖹭. has a habit of adopting depressed children.

#⊹ ۪ ࣪ ᥫ᭡ tea time — meng yao 9948e ꒱#asterism #teratophillia #terato #monster character #grim reaper character #x reader #reader inster #meng yao 9948e #yue meng yao 9948e

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 1 year

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Skin & Scale (Part 7)

Azula’s hands shake. The blue is about halfway to her elbow and she has to stop it before anyone can take notice. She has to stop it but she is terrified. Embarrassingly so. She can’t afford weakness not when it is decisive and swift action that is needed.

She tries not to think too much about it. But it is hard not to.

She tries to hold her hand steady and inhales sharply.

She wants to close her eyes for this but she needs to see what she is doing.

A flame bursts into her open left palm.

It is hard to keep her breathing level when she is holding the right over the left.

She takes one more deep breath.

It might hurt horrifically, it might come out blistered, blacked, and ugly but at least burns are normal. At least they aren’t freakish. They are extremely common in the Fire Nation, really she can’t name one person who doesn’t have at least one small burn from some bending related accident or crime.

There is a moment of bliss where her mind goes blank, she plunges her hand in before rational can kick back in. She grits her teeth against pain that…

She furrows her brows.

It doesn’t come.

She peers into the flames at her hand. Into the flames that burn exceptionally hot but haven’t even begun peeling her skin away. Her sleeve slipping down her arm and into the fire compels her to retract it. She holds her hand up to her face, steam rolls gently off of it, serene as a morning mist unfurls across a pond. She flexes her fingers. They bend without a sting.

The only black upon them is a gentle coating of soot from her singed sleeve.

By all means, it actually feels quite pleasant. The intense heat…it feels powerful and soothing all at once.

But of course. She has dragon skin.

Not skin, she realizes; she can see the intricate linework of scales. They are still outlined faintly in ember orange. For a moment, she thinks that it is quite beautiful.

Hesitantly she brings her left pointer to her afflicted skin. It is still quite warm, it has soaked the flame into itself as desert cracks drink rare rainwater. The scales are rough on her human skin. Skin that has always been quite delicate–it only took using the wrong soap for it to break out in a rash. It had always been so soft and easy to cut and bruise.

And now she has some flesh that can withstand a fire.

It makes sense but it still leaves her feeling dizzy.

A lot of things are starting to make sense now.

.oOo.

"Come on Azula, let me see it!"

"No." She mumbles

"Azula let me see your hand."

"No." Katara makes a grab for it so she does the only thing she can think of, she pulls it away and sits on it to make it that much harder to snatch.

"Really, Azula!?" She throws her hands up. "You're acting like a child."

And she is pouting like one too as the blush creeps across her face. “Why do you want to see it anyways?”

“Why do you want to hide it?” She quirks a brow. “And don’t try to tell me that you just like the gloves. That might have worked on Zuko but I remember you telling me that you’d never want to go to the ‘stupid’ Water Tribe because you hate gloves.”

“I…you remember that?”

“Of course I remember that, it was the first not openly hostile conversation that we had.” She pauses. “Let me see your hand. You’re not burning yourself again, are you?”

Azula’s face flushes. “No. Well, sort of.”

“Either you’re burning yourself again or you aren’t.”

Azula doesn’t like when she gets that icy, steely tone. The one that almost matches hers or her mother’s. “I, it wasn’t for the reason you think.”

“But you still hurt yourself.”

“No.”

“Then prove it. Show me your hand.” For a moment she thinks that Katara is going to go for another grab but her hands remain at her sides. “Please show me your hand. If you hurt yourself I can heal it before it leaves a scar…” just like the last time.

It is the unspoken words that get to her.

Or, perhaps, this time it is that Katara isn’t being particularly pushy. There was, afterall, a please thrown in there. Reluctantly Azula holds her hand out. Katara hesitates for herself before delicately peeling the glove back. Her brows knit, “Azula, what?”

“I don’t know.” She mumbles. “Actually I do have a vague idea…”

Katara holds her hand up, twisting it this way and that. Her scales have a shimmer to them. This opalescent sheen that displays flashes of gold and orange when cast under certain light. “These are…they’re scales?”

Azula nods. “Glove.” She flexes her fingers and Katara hands the glove back. She pushes her sleeve up. The scales have reached her elbow. “I thought that I could burn the blue away…” She trails off. “Scales don’t burn. It didn’t burn myself. It didn’t even hurt.”

But everything else does.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Recent development.” She shrugs. “I noticed it after you guys departed for the Fire Islands.

“So why do I get this feeling that you would have kept this a secret if I didn’t get you to talk?”

“Probably because I would have kept this a secret if you didn’t get me to talk.”

Katara laughs. “You don’t have to do that, you know?”

Azula shrugs again.

“Why were you trying to burn the blue away?”

“Do you know what Fire Nation society tends to do to people who are different? People who are born with limps or born missing fingers or toes? Those conditions aren’t common but they happen often enough. This…?”

“Don’t Fire Nationals like dragons?”

“We hunt dragons.” She deadpans. “It’s a sport. It’s a show of power.”

“You think that they’ll hunt you?”

“Maybe. It isn’t something that I would like to test.” Not that she has a choice. She can’t imagine that she will be able to hide this for very long at all. “The alternative isn’t very pleasant either.”

“The alternative?”

“People are already terrified of me, they already think that I’m a monster.”

“Do they?” Katara inquires. “Or do you think that you’re a monster so you’re assuming that everyone else does? Because I’ve only ever heard Fire Nationals say good things about you. Most people liked what you got done while filling in for Zuko.”

.oOo.

Katara tilts her head; Azula cares what people think of her.

It is decently hard to process that Azula might be feeling insecure.

A smirk creeps over Katara’s face. She thinks of calling Azula out on it. She immediately decides against doing so. The last thing she needs is to make Azula uncomfortable enough to stop being open, it had been ridiculously difficult to get her to take some of those walls down. Most of them are still solidly erect to the point where Katara is surprised that she has shared this much.

She still sits stiffly and proudly but the way she cradles her right hand speaks volumes.

“You’re going to have to tell everyone eventually.”

“Don’t worry, if I don’t the scales will speak for themselves.”

“I think that it would be a lot better if you told everyone before the wings pop out.”

“Wings…” Azula murmurs to herself and Katara can’t tell if it is with fondness or dread.

“You do realize that the dragons are…they’re looking for you. We can avoid a war.”

“We will avoid a war.” But there is something in her voice that doesn’t sound too certain. “Unless they decide to attack anyways. Dragons are very territorial, they don’t take well to their possessions being stolen. They have a history of charring people over silver goblets. Father…” her brows scrunch. “Ozai took their egg. One of their last eggs...”

“Which is why we’re lucky that you’re the dragon!” Katara grins. “You can tell them that it wasn’t so bad and that you were treated well.”

“I thought that you all wanted me to work on not lying.”

Katara flinches.

Sometimes it is easy to forget. Azula always seems so prideful. She has a tendency to boast about all of the ways in which her father had spoiled her during the war, all of the lavish gifts he’d give her. Sometimes it is easy to forget that one of those gifts was loneliness and another was social ineptness. Sometimes it is easy to forget that there was an in between. That span of time between her initial downfall and her warming up to them.

“Is this one of those times where lying is morally acceptable?”

“I don’t know.”

Azula tilts her head.

Katara finds herself wondering, more often than she’d like, if they had been too harsh with Azula in the beginning. She didn’t make things easy at all, in fact she had gone out of her way to be as impossible to deal with and as cruel and biting as possible. But underneath that was a whole lot of hurt that they just kept adding onto.

She knows that Azula is still weary.

“Tell them the truth, Azula. You can tell them that you’ve been hurt but that you don’t want them to start hurting people on your behalf.”

“Assuming I’ll be able to tell them anything at all. I don’t speak dragon. I’ve studied the language a bit but the language itself is so archaic and hard to decipher. A lot of it is done through gestures or mind to mind depending on which text you are looking at.”

“Yeah, I guess that that does make things difficult.” Katara looks her over. She is still staring at the scales creeping over her arms. Still stroking them gently as though she thinks that they will flake away if she is too rough with them–or that they might cut her skin if she touches them wrong. “No wonder you’ve been in so much pain. You’re going through this huge transformation.”

“I have been told that the first bleed tends to signify a transformation…”

“Do you want to go to the hot springs again?”

Azula thinks for a moment and nods. “My back hurts. And my teeth.”

Katara nods. Azula is quiet for the rest of the night leaving Katara with a lot of time to hope that she will fill everyone else in and prepare to present herself to the dragons. It leaves her with a lot of time to dread what might happen if she doesn’t.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Katara #Dragon Azula #Fanfiction

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voraciousvore · 7 months

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Bucky's (29/44)

Author's Note: This chapter contains cameo appearances of characters from my other stories, if you're confused by all the random names. I was setting the foundation for a big crossover story that I am currently writing that brings together several of my established characters/ worlds.

Chapter 29: Maneaters Anonymous

As the days progressed, Bianca felt increasingly worse about what she had done, and the secret she was hiding from her boyfriend. More and more, out of shame, she made excuses not to see Gio, and spent less time on dates when they did have time together. Their interactions felt increasingly uncomfortable and strained. Gio had ostensibly moved on and forgiven her, with his precious magnanimous soul, but Bianca had not forgiven herself. She had yet to come clean to him about eating her ex-boyfriend at Bucky’s. She still had cravings that she grappled to keep under wraps. While they weren’t so strong that she feared losing control and devouring Gio, she knew she couldn’t go on in the same way. At some point, she would have to tell him, but she dragged her feet.

Bianca decided to seek help. She knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, she could not return to Bucky’s. If she did, and indulged herself, there was no going back. She would spiral out of control. She searched online for resources and discovered a support group for Giants who were afflicted with similar cravings called “Maneaters Anonymous.” The next meeting was that night, in a venue near her apartment, so Bianca decided to go. She was nervous, yet hopeful. She didn’t know what to expect.

When Bianca arrived, there were already some Giants milling about waiting. There were refreshments available, including coffee and donuts, so Bianca availed herself of the provided amenities and took a seat. The others there seemed to know one another and were chatting politely amongst themselves. Bianca sat alone in awkward silence, quietly eating a glazed donut, until one of the Giants noticed she was by herself and approached with a friendly smile. Bianca, as an attractive Giantess, was accustomed to constant unwanted attention from men, so she initially had her guard up, but the man had a calming aura that relaxed her. He didn’t seem to have any bad intentions. Bianca noticed that he was extremely tall, perhaps one of the tallest Giants she had ever met. He was well-groomed and dressed, in a way that appeared refined and professional.

“Hi there,” the Giant greeted her with a cordial smile that revealed straight rows of white teeth. “I haven’t seen you here before. You must be new. What’s your name?” He leaned down slightly and offered his large hand to shake.

“Bianca,” she answered. “And yours?” Her smaller hand disappeared in his as she shook his hand. He had a gentle but firm grip.

“My name is Milton,” he introduced himself. “Do you mind if I sit here?” He gestured to the chair next to her.

“Oh, go ahead.” He settled his huge bulk into the chair and serenely sipped his coffee.

“So, what brings you here, Bianca? If you don’t mind me asking. No pressure to talk if you’re not comfortable.”

“Oh... um...” Bianca hesitated, embarrassed by her situation, but considering the context of the conversation, she figured it couldn’t hurt to share. Besides, there was something about this Giant that put her at ease. He regarded her with an understanding sincerity in his brown eyes, warm like a cup of coffee. “Well... I ate my boyfriend. He wasn’t too happy about it. Then I went to a restaurant that serves humans and ran into my ex-boyfriend there. I ate him too. Now, I don’t know what to do. I have these strong cravings, but no outlet for them, since my boyfriend doesn’t want to be eaten.”

“Oh, dear. That is a problem. You’ll see we all have similar struggles here. You’ll have to learn to control your urges or find alternatives. There are appetite suppressants that they sell at pharmacies that sometimes help. I’ve never found them to be useful, personally, but some Giants swear by them.”

Bianca mentally filed this information away for future use. “What about you? What’s your story, Milton?” She was curious.

“Ah, well. I’ve suffered from bloodthirsty urges to devour humans from a young age. I work around humans as part of my job, so I can’t afford any slip-ups. Additionally, I have a human girlfriend, and an adopted human daughter. So, I must keep myself under control, at all costs,” Milton explained. “I’ve found keeping myself well-fed, with large quantities of red meat, helps immensely. As long as I don’t get too hungry, my cravings are perfectly manageable. I still come to the support groups every once in a while, since I find them helpful if I start to backslide. It’s a bit of a ways to drive, since I live in the next city over, but worth the journey.” He took another sip of coffee. “I don’t want anyone near where I live finding out about my little problem.”

“Milton!” a Giant called who had just walked in the door, striding towards them. He was also a very large Giant, almost as tall as Milton, but his appearance and demeanor were quite different. He was dressed strangely, in a sky-blue vest over a white shirt with billowing sleeves, tan pants with elaborate orange stitching on the sides, and big leather boots. He had a prowl in his step and a gleam in his bright green eyes that reminded Bianca of a hungry carnivorous predator, like a lion.

“Hey there, Chester!” Milton hailed back. “This young lady is Bianca. She’s new here.”

“Hello, Bianca,” Chester said warmly, turning his attention to her. She observed he had a faint hint of an undefinable accent when he spoke. After pausing a moment, he seemed to remember what he was supposed to do, seized Bianca’s hand, and shook it. He had a hardy grip, more aggressive than Milton’s. “Sorry if I am a bit awkward in social customs, I am from a different universe—er, I mean, country.”

“Chester here, like me, also has a human partner,” Milton explained. Bianca found it amusing that these two abnormally large Giants both had such tiny girlfriends. She supposed their voracious appetites must have something to do with it, just as she was attracted mostly to small human men. She had never considered that such a preference was a widespread phenomenon, tied closely to a desire to eat humans, but it all made sense when she took into account her own experience.

“Yes, as well as a half-human, half-Giant son,” Chester elaborated. He sat down in a chair on the other side of Bianca.

Bianca gaped at him in shock. “Wait, really? Is that even possible? How...” She trailed off, recognizing the awkwardness of her inquiry.

Chester became flustered. “Ah, um... yes, it’s possible. Though I believe our son is... unique, to say the least,” he admitted. “It’s certainly not easy to raise such a child. Quite the contrary. The added stress has compelled me to begin attending these meetings, actually. They do not have any such meetings in my world—I mean, country. So I must travel far.”

Milton had a distant look in his eye when Chester mentioned he had a child, though Bianca couldn’t tell why. She was disturbed by the revelation that Giants and humans could procreate. She placed her hand on her abdomen, deep in thought. She had never heard of cross-species childbearing and had always assumed it to be impossible. She had practiced unprotected sex with Gio. Was it possible for her to get pregnant with human seed? Her mind revolted at the idea. She didn’t want that, not when their relationship was still so fragile. Even though Gio had forgiven her for eating him, she was still hiding her secret from him, and she occasionally observed sparks of fear within him when he interacted with her. She knew he didn’t always trust her, though he never vocalized his concerns directly to her.

“How do you control your cravings, Chester?” Bianca asked him, to change the subject.

“Fortunately, I don’t have a desire to eat my own son, perhaps because he is of my own flesh and blood, and also half-Giant. My wife allows me to eat her, on a regular basis, but with everything going on with our son, she has been very strained lately. So, I can’t eat her as much as I would prefer. This is one of the reasons I began attending meetings.”

“Wow, she lets you eat her? Lucky,” Bianca mused. She was, admittedly, quite jealous. Her problems would be non-existent if she just had a willing partner. She felt strange at the thought. Before all this drama started, she had believed Gio to be the perfect match, but now she had serious reservations. He had been incredibly forgiving of her mistakes that he knew about, but she wondered if she’d be better off with someone more in alignment with her appetites.

She looked over at Milton. “Do you eat your girlfriend, Milton?”

“Heavens, no. I could never eat my sweet little Millie. She is far too traumatized for me to subject her to such an act. Besides, my cravings are more… brutal and violent in nature. I’m not sure if merely swallowing her whole with a human pill would be enough to satisfy my taste for blood. I hate to admit it, but I’d be tempted to use my teeth.” He licked his lips nervously at the thought.

“Human pills? What are those?” Chester inquired. Both Bianca and Milton gave him strange looks, with his statement that he regularly ate his wife still fresh in their minds. He looked back, confused. “What?”

They didn’t get a chance to ask him, because just then the meeting began. “I see we have a couple of new faces here tonight, so we may as well go around and introduce ourselves,” the Giant leading the meeting announced. He was an older gentleman with noble features and gray hair. “My name is Dr. Brown, and I’m a group counselor. Why don’t we start with you, sir?” He directed his attention to one of the new attendees sitting by himself off in a corner.

“Oh, uh…” The Giant was ruffled, to be called on to speak so soon, but he fell readily into his role and stood up to introduce himself. “Hi everyone. I’m Pete, and I’m a maneater.” He gulped, fidgeting with his hands anxiously. “Um… I’m here because I have many small human friends. They trust me completely, and believe me to be a gentle Giant, but secretly… um… I fantasize about eating them, constantly. I just want to pop them all in my mouth like chicken nuggets and gobble ‘em up. Or make human sandwiches and chomp them up, bite by bite. I know it’s sick and depraved, but I can’t help it.” He flushed and licked his lips hungrily. “The other night, I finally caved and went to that new restaurant downtown that serves humans, Bucky’s. I ate a spicy little redhead named Pepper in a cheeseburger. It was… so satisfying… I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop myself from going back…” He swallowed with longing.

At the mention of Bucky’s, the mood in the room shifted into a more tense atmosphere. Most of the Giants at the meeting had heard of the notorious place and had been sorely tempted to go, if they hadn’t already. Bianca noticed, to her right, Milton was gripping the arm of his chair, digging his nails into the cheap fabric. To her left, Chester’s green eyes were glinting with curiosity and an insatiable hunger.

“Thank you for sharing, Pete,” Dr. Brown stated. “As you’ll soon see, you’re not alone here. We’re here to create a safe space for you to share your troubling thoughts and hopefully purge them.” He went around the room and allowed others to share their stories and insights. When he reached Bianca, she stood up and introduced herself.

“Hi, I’m Bianca, and I’m a maneater.” She had some reservations, but she felt comfortable in the room surrounded by Giants grappling with the same issues, so she relayed her story in detail. Dr. Brown nodded with understanding as she spoke.

“Yes, I see the dilemma. Remember, Bianca, it is crucial for us to be upfront and honest with our human romantic partners. If you are not able to reign in your urges with a partner who is unwilling to be consumed, it may be best to break off the relationship, for the human’s safety,” he expounded. Bianca ruminated on his words as he moved on to the next participant. She had to admit that he had a point. She needed to tell Gio the hidden truth that was eating away at her conscience, regardless of what the consequences may be. She couldn’t conceal it from him any longer.

Several other Giants shared their experiences. Most of them had friends, family, or lovers whom they needed to resist the urge to devour. Bianca was sympathetic, but at the same time felt alienated as she listened to their stories. She was different from the others: She wanted a willing partner to eat. Perhaps a partner that wasn’t Gio.

Toward the end of the session, the group counselor had all the participants stand up and chant an affirmation: “I am a friend to humans. I am a gentle Giant. I would not, could not, ever eat or hurt anyone.” Bianca resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She knew some of the Giants needed those words, but she was not included among them.

After the meeting concluded, Bianca bid adieu to her new acquaintances and started walking home. She resolved to bite the bullet and tell Gio the truth. With a grimace, she pulled out her phone and dialed his number. He answered by the third ring.

“Hey Bianca, what’s up?” he asked, his voice scratchy. He sounded tired.

“Hey there… Gio. I need to tell you something.”

He sighed, detecting the gravity in her tone of voice. “What is it?”

“So Gio, do you remember that night when I ate you?”

“Uh huh.” Gio didn’t sound too happy at the reminder.

“Well, I have a confession to make. That night, after you left… I went to Bucky’s.” Bianca paused, then continued. “While I was there, I ran into my ex-boyfriend. And… I consumed him.”

Bianca waited to see how Gio would react. There was a long, drawn-out silence on the other end of the line. Finally, Gio choked out, “Are you serious right now? Jesus…” He huffed with exasperation. “What the hell am I going to do with you, Bianca?” His words dripped with frustration.

“I-I don’t know,” she confessed. “Gio… these cravings won’t go away. I think… I’d be better off… we’d be better off… if we went our separate ways. If I’m being honest.”

Gio exhaled. “To be blunt, Bianca… I’m glad you said that. I was beginning to feel the same way. I’ve tried my best to move past it, but... it’s just not working between us anymore.”

Bianca swallowed. “Well, I guess this is it then.”

“Yeah.”

And that was it. Bianca hung up. She wasn’t sure how to feel. She thought she would be sad, even devastated, but somehow instead she felt relieved, like a weight had been lifted off her chest. She had been agonizing over her relationship for long enough that she was starting to feel trapped, and apparently Gio had shared the same sentiment. Suddenly, she felt free—and hungry. She checked the time. She still had time to go to dinner before most of the restaurants in the area closed for the night. However, she had a specific place in mind: Bucky’s.

Chapter 30

Chapter 1

#giant #giant/tiny #g/t #tiny #g/t writing #giant tiny #Bucky's #my ocs

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fiadorable · 2 years

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46 Great Things in Strange New Worlds (S1E01)

I decided to write down all the things I loved from each episode of Strange New World's first season.

Pilot episode things to love include:

Seeing first contact with the Federation from the POV of an alien species with Una's log overlaying the opening

Star Trek tradition of character being in love with really old American television/movies continues, this time with The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951)

Pike's pancakes look divine - and the gentle way he spatulas them onto the plate! This is a person who is skilled and takes great care with delicate things.

I oddly love Pike referring to Batel as "Captain Batel" during breakfast and have this headcanon that he does so while she's in uniform to kind of draw the line between the personal and professional relationship they have

But also like shame on her for saying the pancakes were good BUT STILL LEAVING MOST OF IT ON HER PLATE

Calling the communicator a phone is weird - but I appreciate the effort they are making to bridge the way life imitated art and gave us cell phones before warp drives

Loving the way they are showing the relationship between Batel and Pike here, the friend/coworkers with benefits, call me when you get back in town but with no expectations thing - it feels realistic given their careers

Good god I love the music in this series please give me a soundtrack

What an absolutely gorgeous theme song and title sequence. It feels very Lower Decks visually, but definitely pays homage to the TOS sequence.

Say what you want, but I love seeing playful Vulcans. Tuvok had some excellent lines on Voyager, but seeing T'Pring and Spock dance around the engagement question is delightful.

"I'm going to have to ask you two to do that somewhere else." 😂😂😂

"Matrimony and duty. The two will complement each other." "I remain skeptical." As you should, girl, as you should

Oo, I do like the communicator plugging into a video display though. Nice blend of the 60s tech with modern tech.

Pike reviewing La'an's file and the Gorn report on the way to the Enterprise. Weird thing to like, I know, but this comes up later in my list.

I love that Enterprise is a learning ship and the cadets rotate through the departments

Pike has a goddamn fireplace in his quarters. He has a kitchen.

I love Pike's conversation with Spock on the way to Kiley 279, questioning how the knowledge of his accident will live in him and direct his actions in the years leading up to it - and the season finale answers that question which makes for a nice narrative circle shaped thing

Bridge troubleshooting sessions are the best

I love Nurse Chapel - she is the manic pixie dream girl of the show while still being extremely competent - and I love her introductory exchange with La'an and how Pike is just sitting back and watching them circle each other

"Well there's surviving and then there's living." I like that he left the decision to take the sedative up to La'an (and now knowing her backstory it makes sense but the first time I saw this episode I was like goddamn girl)

Obligatory "history of the United States" reference

Also loving the rivalry between Spock and La'an down on the planet… new coworkers are hard

Delta Scorpii Seven

"Always when I'm in the captain's chair" - This whole exchange is when I knew Ortegas was gonna be one of my favs

I love that Uhura is the one who is able to settle the rabbit - bonding through sports is the fastest way to get your alien captive to relax

The flirtatious lady in the elevator who sees Spock morphing while Pike pretends he has no idea what she's freaking out about - this man is a complete awkward dork around women how the hell did he get Batel into bed 😂(

"Somehow I figured you might" 😍 I don't ship them I don't ship them

"Can you not jinx it?" More of Una and Spock, please, I beg of you

Also the way Pike is holding her 😍 GODDAMMIT I DO NOT SHIP THEM

Spock screaming as his genome reverted was intense and I like it because it means my girl La'an is a fucking BEAST because she went through all of that without a sound on the ship which is horrifying

Shades of Janeway and the Caretaker's array in Pike's decision to interfere despite General Order 1 because without their original unintended interference there would be no secondary interference necessary - it's a parallel I am comfortable with

La'an calling Spock "the science officer" 😂

What a power move bringing Enterprise into lower orbit and I love the air raid sirens on Kiley that go off as it descends

"The true cost of a civil war is abstract"

"Right up until the very end life is to be worn gloriously"

Ok, ok, we get it, this is the bad place 🙃

The Kiley montage is weird like what is even happening in it are they worshiping the Enterprise at the end there with their paper doll cutout of it?? Aliens.

Renaming General Order One the Prime Directive

I like Admiral April - he is a solid dude

Pike knowing exactly what La'an is about at the end of the episode is the best. He's read her file, he knows all of this already, but he's letting her come to him and tell him in her own words and that's great.

"Other people are challenging for me." me too girl me too

Ugh this musiiiiiic 🥰

I just like watching this crew doing their jobs. The set is pretty, the people are pretty, the dialogue is crisp.

We are all Uhura saying "Cool!" on the bridge

Pike's almost knee-high boots

Ending credit music!

#st:snw #star trek strange new worlds #why is the pilot the name of the series #there's a lot that could have been done better this season #but there were also some really good things too #i want to focus on good things right now #ignore me #snw great things

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motionsteven46 · 2 years

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missgeniality · 3 years

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A Date With Destiny (m)

“Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves, alone - we find it with another.” - Thomas Merton

➺ Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader

➺ Trope: Strangers to Lovers, Idol!AU

➺ Genre: Fluff, Smut, one comedian in the mix

➺ Rating: 18+

➺ Word Count: 11k

➺ Summary: You are a boss lady in the tech industry travelling to world for work. He is a chart-topping artist touring the globe to perform in front of millions of fans. In the cosmos of life, you are not likely to cross paths. Luckily, fate has a different plan for you two.

➺ Warnings: dom!jk, unprotected sex (sex is cleaner when you pack your weiner!), hickeys galore, lot of spit, oral (male and female receiving), balls receive attention, throat fucking, cum eating, edging, masturbation kinda?, cum play, pussy slapping, pussy sniffing, fingering, squirting, spanking, pain kink?, tit slapping, reader teases a bit but this man is a tease maestro, cum stuffing (is that a thing even?), Jungkook’s THIGHS need their own warning

➺ Author’s Note: @ppersonna is an angel among us peasants. Thank you so much for all your help with this! This is my first attempt at writing, and the tiniest feedback goes a long way! Hope you enjoy!

When you die, the first pit stop you make is to the coffee gods.

Without coffee, this whole month would have been a disaster. Back-to-back meetings, daily flights, countless documents being read, it’s a miracle your eyes are open and fully functioning.

Being the Chief Technical Officer of a well-established company at your age had been anything but a cakewalk. You had strived hard and crossed many boulders to come to where you are. But if reaching that point required huge amounts of effort, now your work is tenfold.

“Why can’t I just get longer flights so I can nap in them?” You mumble into your nth cup of coffee - not keeping count is for your own sanity.

“Because longer flights apparently have crying children. You, our resident baby-magnet hypothesized that shorter flights equal more time in hotel rooms ‘sleeping’. Guess who sleeps in said hotel rooms? Everyone but you.” Your personal assistant and part-time truth-spouter Jake offers helpfully.

“Past me was such an idiot.” You shoot back, wondering if you could inject the espresso right through your veins.

Jake pouts. “Woman, you take on jobs that an intern could do. If you weren’t such an unnecessary perfectionist I would be on the beaches of Thailand, getting sensual massages and eating some pretty pussy. But here we are, on our way to Seoul. So quit your whining because clearly, I have lost more.”

“What if I wanted to do that too?”

“Can I watch?”

“Right.” And that was the end of the conversation.

Passengers on flight KE654 from Bangkok to Seoul are requested to report for boarding at Gate 45A. First Class passengers will be boarded first, followed by Business class and lastly Economy. Please keep your boarding pass ready for checking.

Jake stands up, groaning. “This is where we say goodbye. Do you wanna pretend like we’re strangers and have a hot one-night stand when we land?”

“Sometimes I think it’s your natural response to flirt with a breathing being. Do you ever accidentally just, you know, flirt with a tree?” You try to sound sarcastic, but you’re genuinely curious.

“If a day comes when a hot specimen like me has to flirt with a tree, humanity is doomed. Catch ya later!” He blows you a kiss before leaving for the restroom. You shake your head in awe, a small smile finding your lips. He knew how to get your mind off things.

For all his flirting, Jake’s interest in you is perfunctory. He looks after you, keeps you from starving or gouging your eyeballs out, and calms you when things are too hard. He’s seen your worst. You’ve seen him drunk out of his mind, bailed him out when he “accidentally” smoked up, and heard every new pick-up line his ingenious brain churned out. Basically, you’ve seen his worst as well.

You take a look at your boarding pass. 3C. Jake would be in business class, and you in first. Not your choice, the company makes the rules. It's for the better, he says. Apparently, he can ‘prowl for his hunt better’, without your judgmental glare. You nearly vomit on him just for his choice of words.

Entering the flight, you stash away your hand baggage the first place you find the room and head to your seat and-

Holy. Shit.

Jeon Jungkook is sitting on your seat.

Jeon Jungkook is on your flight?

BTS is on your flight?

What are the odds?

Granted, you’re not a 16-year old obsessive fan, collecting photocards and waving light sticks through the screen, but even in your adulthood you’ve admired their music and shows, routinely keeping up with their discography.

Hell, you even learned Korean years ago to better understand their songs. Maybe you are an obsessive fan.

But you can’t approach them like that. They no doubt want some privacy and not be recognized. God forbid you approach Jungkook with crazy eyes, just to be escorted off the plane for stalking. While you liked their work, you had your own, and getting thrown off this flight does not help you there.

So, you’re just gonna have to speak to him like just another passenger.

BTS who?

Biggest boyband who?

You only listen to Frank Sinatra.

“Excuse me?” You call out, a shiver of a whisper leaving your lips. You immediately chastise yourself for being so star-struck.

Big, round eyes glitter under the bucket hat. The softest ‘huh’ throws a lasso over your heart, and holds it captive. He adjusts his hat, inked fingers making a brief yet lasting appearance. The epitome of tenderness, you muse as his eyes flit here and there to figure out the situation. After finding no one to help him out, he gently offers “Yes?”

You feel extremely guilty for marring his serene face with creases of trouble. “I think this is my seat. See, 3C.” you say, pointing to the seat and then to your ticket for good measure. Did he suspect you recognize them? No. Do you look like you’re over-gesticulating? Totally.

“Oh.” His brow distresses further, the sight has you ready to give the man your seat and hide in the bathroom for the rest of the flight. “But even I am 3C.”

His ticket shows the same characters as yours.

Huh?

With both your faces contorted in confusion, an air hostess comes forward to help.

“We both are booked on the same seat. How does that happen? Do I need to catch another flight?” You suddenly pour out, remembering the countless commitments you have in Seoul that would go down the drain if you don’t make it by tonight.

She's quick to reassure you. “Do not worry ma’am, I’m sure there must have been an error in the printing. I’ll be right back.” At the same time, Jungkook is approached by someone, probably one of their staff, to discuss the issue.

The air hostess returns smiling. “Ma’am, you both were booked on the same seat but this adjacent seat was left empty. We are extremely sorry for the error. You may take 3B.” She reiterates the same message to Jungkook in Korean, who then looks mighty relieved.

Goddamn, his eyes got bigger. How much bigger can they get?

“All okay then?” He glances sideways, smile irradiating your senses and waking you up better than all the coffee could.

“All good. Sorry for the trouble.” You add, even though it isn’t your mistake in any way.

“No no. No trouble” He beams back.

Aw, you are in trouble.

As the flight is about to take off, you can see the rest of BTS in the rows ahead of you, with some other staff members taking up other seats. There’s one old man with a scowl on his face, whom you can’t place with the BigHit group. Great, no crying kids. Unless the frowning grandpa snores to the heavens, you can actually catch a good four-hour snooze. Take that, Jake. Hope a kid blows snot in his face.

Looking at your neighbor, you find him busy searching for a good video game on the screen. The other members seem to be using this flight to catch a nap, except him. You always wondered whether their on-screen persona was real or not. Now you could say at least one of his characteristics is true.

Turning away, you bring your focus back to the document at hand. The schematics for a new product your company was launching. You had spearheaded its conception and looked over every single detail in its manufacturing. The Seoul branch is one of the main players in its production, and your last stop before heading back home. You must have every word in this file burnt in the back of your eyelids to make this deal smooth.

Reclining your seat, and putting your legs up, you got down to business.

An Angel was calling you.

You want to wake up, but you couldn’t, fearing the Angel would stop singing to you. Something is poking you, but the voice just drowns it all out.

Wait...

Fluttering your eyes open, you see Jeon Jungkook staring right at you.

“Hi... They, umm--Food? Want to eat?” the Angel utters. Jungkook utters. Tomato, to-mah-to.

“Oh!” you exclaim, wiping non-existent drool on your face. His palm on your shoulder quickly retracts at your exaggerated attempt to hide your embarrassment. “Thank you so much.”

Then, he does that thing. He smiles. Eye scrunch and all.

Fuck the coffee gods. When you die, you want to meet the Grand Master and ask him what crack he was on to hand over so much power to one man’s smile.

The food is placed on your table, and you thank the hostess graciously.

“Do you need anything to drink?” She asks, to which you only shake your head. There was enough caffeine in your system to shoot a horse to the moon and you were still drowsy. There was no need to catalyze this process with booze.

“Your Korean accent is pretty good.” Your next-seat resident comments. Ah, you had conversed with the hostess in Korean.

“Thank you very much.” You giggle, roleplaying an acne-prone teenager talking to her hunk of a crush.

“Have you been speaking for a long time?” He pops a huge morsel of food after asking. Well, that’s another on-screen quality found to be accurate.

“Six years now. Comes in handy for my work.”

“Oh! Did you have to learn it for work? That’s fascinating.” Another mouthful went in. You didn’t even know it was physically possible to hold that much rice using chopsticks.

“Uhh.. no..” You tussle your hair, trying to stop your cheeks from turning beet red, “I just listened to some music and consuming more content.. and subtitles are a bore, plus I needed a hobby at the time so..”

Your unnecessarily long explanation was cut short by Jungkook’s child-like laugh, enjoying the pickle you were putting yourself in.

“Hey! I just didn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation, that’s all.” you try to be cross, knowing it’s inconceivable since God himself seems to have given him whatever he wanted. If big ol’ Almighty can’t stand against his charms, you are but a mere pleb.

He looks at you kindly. “Thank you, that was very thoughtful. I’ve been speaking to so many foreigners trying to get across to them I got surprised when you spoke so fluently.”

He went back to chomping on his food like it was his last meal, completely unaware of your staring.

You both speak for a long time. He explains their latest shoot and fan meeting, and you listen to him pour out his love for his job and fans as much as he could articulate. The rest of the emotion is portrayed by his now widest eyeballs (they cannot get any wider, you confirm by asking him - a request he apparently gets a lot) and intense gesticulation. It is very gratifying to listen to his past schedules, and you slip in a quick prayer for not having a job where you had to maintain public appearances while having a schedule as persevering as theirs. Sure, you had a ton of commitments. But can you throw your hair in a bun and aggressively scowl at a monitor and still meet your target? Fuck yeah.

You went on to tell him about yourself - your job, your travels, the reason you were in Seoul. He listens to them with rapt attention throwing in appropriate questions without interrupting your flow. He gives the right amount of sympathy; just enough to show that he understands why you have three sets of nightwear and a futon in your office, but not too much where it seems like you should “take a break” and “think about the joys of motherhood” - as you are often told.

During the conversation, you digress a little to take in his slight features. The apple of his cheeks, in full display, when he tells you about how he pranked his members. The light pout of his lips when he talks about the times their path seemed too far-fetched, when every single obstacle felt like the end of their career. The stars in his eyes when he speaks of how he feels during tours, meeting the endless number of fans, the drive that keeps him going. They all make an endearing package. Eager to please, you kept the conversation going with gusto. The meal is followed by a snack break, after which you had effectively exhausted all conversation topics that could be brought up with near-strangers.

A quick alcohol break later, (yes, you caved, the catalyst was welcome) you both doze off, seemingly exhausted from recollecting respective timetables. He wakes up soon after to play video games and talk to the other members. But you fall into a deep slumber, with an Angel’s chuckles in the background guiding you through the sleep.

Jungkook wakes up to see his character dead. The video game was forgotten after his conversation with you began.

He spent an inordinate amount of time talking to you. And now that you’re asleep, he is only thinking about how much he enjoyed the conversation. Jungkook is not a speaker. His introversion leaves much to be desired in that department. Most of the time, his members cover for him, play the role of dutiful wingmen, and introduce him to their friends. And still, it took him a long time to talk freely.

But something about you made him open up.

Maybe it was the way you listened to him, lips slightly parted when you were absorbing every single word he let out. Maybe it was the questions you asked, treading lightly and skirting any personal questions. Maybe it was the fact that you pretended to not know him at first, mindful of his privacy. The butterflies in him could be explained by this.

But.

It could also be how graceful you looked, even though you’re dressed in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. It could be how you carried yourself, with great elegance and poise, even though your work was taxing. It could also be your toe socks, and your glee when he showed you his.

Your personality is infectious. He already misses you, despite you being inches away, desperately wants to exhaust every second of this journey engrossed in you.

He wonders if you feel that way too.

Speaking of whom-

A snicker escapes his lips when he turns to face you.

In your sleepy haze, Jungkook sees that a) your mouth is wide open, b) your hands mindlessly fiddle with the reams of pages on your lap, and c) your eyes scrunch as sunlight pierces through the flight to bounce off your face. Cute, he muses, trying to locate the source of the criminal rays irking you.

The window letting the sunbeam in is beside an old man sitting on the other end. He is eyeing the magazine in his hands with abject disapproval, like the booklet had sullied him and his family.

Gathering up the courage, Jungkook calls out for the man.

“Excuse me, sir. Do you mind pulling the window shade?” He asks, in the sweetest voice that his hyungs would melt at first listen.

Puppy eyes are met with the geezer’s piercing glare, making Jungkook wonder if he accidentally said something strikingly offensive instead of what he thought he said. About to backtrack his words and try again, he gets interrupted by the man letting out a big grunt, after which he continues in his endeavor to telepathically set fire to the magazine. He does not forget to give a nasty side-eye but completely refuses to comply with Jungkook’s request.

“And my team thinks my glares are spooky.” You pique, having witnessed the whole interaction, “I ought to have him on board”. Jungkook snorts, and you take that to be his agreement.

Pausing, you throw caution in the wind and add, “Thank you though, that was very sweet of you.”

He eyes you demurely. “No problem, you looked like you needed the rest.”

“Listen, I-”

“So I was think-”

Ladies and gentlemen, we have just been cleared to land at the Incheon International airport. Please ensure your backpacks and suitcases are stowed away in the overhead compartments or underneath the seats ahead of you. The flight attendants are currently passing around the cabin to make a final compliance check and pick up any remaining cups and glasses. Thank you.

High-quality curses almost make it to heaven (speakers). The announcement dissipates all the courage you had mustered, feeling a rush exit your body. You had almost asked for his contact - and by the looks of it, he had wanted it too. Or maybe your hair is a rat's nest and he was just going to point that out. Guess you will never know.

You shyly smile at each other before going about following the instructions. Your half-read document gets stuffed back into its bag, to be read once you have no distractions in the form of eye candy armed with saccharine speech. Well, you have Jake to distract you plenty, but you can shoo him away by threatening his paycheck.

As the flight descends, you look over to your neighbor - one last time, you guess - and surprisingly lock eyes with him. Anything that had exited you comes rushing back, veins in full alertness. A moment’s awkwardness later you both burst out laughing, each doing their best to hide their crimson cheeks. You find one more online fact to be true - Jungkook’s peak happiness laughter, eye crinkle and nose scrunch, can melt your whole entire heart.

“Hey mami, come here often?”

“For the last time Jake, I will not hesitate to donate your bones for science.”

“Well, I heard bone, it's already a win for me.”

You let out a sigh of exasperation. There is no reforming him.

“How was the flight?” Jake questions as you approach the baggage belt. Looking out for your somber black suitcase, you try to play it off like you did not spend the whole time in the company of a stranger who is on the fast track to your heart.

“The usual. Sleep, eat, read needlessly printed out documents that could have been shoved into on email, repeat. What about you?”

As Jake starts an account of his flight experience in exorbitant detail, you took the opportunity to try and find your ride. Once you locate it and get in, you catch the end of his sermon.

“-and the name of the book will be ‘How to manage a farm - ‘cause chicks gon’ be crazy!’. What do you think?”

“I think it was a good idea I chose to zone out.”

“Y/N come on! It’s a self-help book for poor souls born without my raw charisma. Men and women out there want me, but I can’t satisfy them all. I will just resort to making more of me! It will have pointers, DIY’s and pick-up lines crafted by yours truly - wanna hear one?”

You throw your bag in front and turn to him. “Do I have a choice? Go ahead.”

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, he starts. “Am I cute? Squish my cheeks. Am I hot? Clap my cheeks.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Points for creativity. You’ll still get wine splashed at you.”

Jake was not one to give up. “‘It’s good we don’t need eye condoms, or you’d be on your way to delivery.’”

“Just… don’t have kids, okay? This gene must be stopped, right here.”

“Okay, this one is my all-time favorite. ‘Rack so big, I don’t motorboat, I motorship.’”

That’s it. The guffaw itching you since the start of this conversation is out of its cages, populating the air in the car. Wiping stray tears from your face, you face Jake, seeming very pleased with himself. Undoubtedly, he is coming up with absurd scenarios to ease your nerves. No book is in the works (one could only hope).

“Thank you, I feel much better now. You can stop coming up with these.”

The goof has the gall to look appalled. “I was going to cut you ten percent of my book commission but I guess that’s out. Hmph.”

“I’m at the receiving end of all these pick-up lines. I should make twenty at least for all the nuisance I’ve put up with.”

“All right mami, we’ll shelve this for later. Here’s the schedule for today. You have a 10 a.m. breakfast meeting with Dr. Park Shin Young, Lead Research Scientist of the project. Then you have a bunch of seminars to attend, which will go on all afternoon. There’s a bar right beside this venue.”

“How is that pertinent?”

“So you know where to find me.” He continues, unperturbed. “After which there’s an evening meeting with the whole team to demonstrate the product and a marketing meeting right after.”

“Am I required for the marketing meeting?” Your expertise is limited to the technical field. PR work isn’t your cup of tea, but they stubbornly demand your presence.

Jake exhales. “We’ve been through this. You CAN doze off during the meeting, but you have to be there. Just pretend you’re a college student, sitting in one class, completing assignments for another.”

“But if I’m there I feel the need to pay attention.” you whine.

“Clearly you weren’t one of those college students,” Jake says, perusing through his diary, “Stop being a pedant and do one of those things people do. Loving their jobs and whatnot.”

Before you can retort a reply, the driver pulls up to your destination and you exit the car.

Eleven at night is when you finally check in to the hotel. The tedious day warrants your heels coming off before you even reach your floor. There’s an irritant drumming, from the balls of your feet right up to your temples, that beg for your attention. Setting your footwear on your bags, you massage your feet for temporary relief as the lift took you closer to a more permanent one.

Once your suitcase gets parked in the closet, you head to the bathroom to soak your day away with the bath bomb kit you were gifted in one of the seminars. The ball fizzles as soon as it hits the water, dispersing in tiny bubbles and a heady aroma of vanilla and lavender. The soft amber tones of the walls, the lambent gold lighting, and the ambrosial air put all your senses at ease. You sink in; the bathwater permeating warmth through your skin. Crackling bubbles with every move; the water teases your neck, soothing the laceration with every lick. Every pulse point on you is enhanced - you let yourself float wherever your mind takes you.

A familiar face makes its presence known. You allow yourself to think about him, after pushing his visage away all day. Something about him… felt like home. Soothing, comforting, always speaking in dulcet tones unless something humorous pulled out a loud laugh. Even that wasn’t jarring; it was the exact opposite. Felt like sunshine filled your lungs every time he cracked up. Made you want to keep talking to him, keep him amused and entertained. You can’t imagine he converses with every stranger like that.

But maybe he did; maybe this is some unspoken celebrity culture you were unaware of.

All you know is that this was a once in a lifetime experience. There’s no way you are encountering another personage ever again. There’s no way you’re encountering him again. Luck can only thrive so far.

So when you exit the bathroom, clad in a towel, remnant bathwater dripping from every end, the last thing you expect is Jungkook, spread out on the bed, casually flipping through his phone like it’s his own abode.

“J-Jungkook?”

Y/N. In his room. In a towel. Dripping wet hair. Emanating a delectable aroma.

Y/N. In person.

He is dreaming. He has to be. He's been thinking of you ever since the flight, so now he is delusional. Nothing else. There’s absolutely no chance that you’re in his room, let alone… like this.

Right?

“What are you… what are you doing in my room?”

Wrong.

Jungkook knows he should say something. He should not be gawking at you like he is doing now. But God. You look so pretty, eyebrows arched up in confusion, jaw about to be unhinged, hands fluttering around not knowing what to do.

He forces his body to action.

"Y/N!" He exclaims, finally averting his eyes to face the wall.

Pause.

"Wait, what do you mean MY room? This is my room!"

You’re baffled. "Huh? How is that possible? This was given to me!"

“I really don’t know, Y/N, there must have been some confusion! Please, you have to believe me!”

Jungkook wants to turn around and face you. He desperately wants to clear the air. He can see that this looks bad. He obviously looks like an enamored creep, waltzing into your space. You probably think he does this all the time. Many a time people have misunderstood him, his celebrity status not earning him many points. You must think the same.

And now you’re going to tell him to get out and never see you again, he hypothesizes. His brain is working overtime trying to remedy the situation, without noticing your now relaxing demeanor.

“Oh, okay.”

“I’ll fix this, I’ll go to the reception and fix this. You don’t worry, I didn’t see anything, you can trust me, I’ll go an-”

“Hey, hey,” your tone gentle, “it’s okay, trust me. Just, let me get dressed and I’ll come down with you.”

Your soothing response almost has Jungkook on his knees. Whoever orchestrated this meet, he is just thankful for this good turn. Anyone else would go berserk, and rightfully so.

But you’re not anyone else.

He isn’t just anyone.

Technically, he isn’t a stranger, you try to justify. You should have been more shocked, enraged, or at least doubtful of his intentions. But you weren’t. You had accepted his explanation, let him stay in your room while you changed in the bathroom, and now are en-route to the main desk to rectify this error.

The air around you two is strained; he won’t even look you in the eye. Any question you have is replied to concisely, leaving no room for a chat. Nothing to disperse the tension between you two.

Like now, in the elevator, Jungkook has done the math and maintains the maximum distance between you. Opposite ends of the diagonal of this lift, his peripheral vision probably barely picks you up. However, his evasion helps in a way--you are able to study his full form.

He is dressed casually, and any lesser man would have seemed casual enough. On him, it is a whole new game. Ripped jeans hugging his sturdy legs, the slashed fabric allowing you a peek of his dangerous thighs. A plain white t-shirt tucked in to show off his lean waistline. The only thing holding you back from having a full-blown wet dream, wide awake, is his chestnut overcoat, saving his modesty and yours.

Jake was right, eye condoms are the need of the century.

To be fair, Jungkook had the worse end. He saw you scantily clad, post-bath glow and everything. You wonder what is going through his mind.

Definitely nothing like the debauchery unfolding in yours.

He has probably seen his fair share of women, and one hot to trot lady isn’t anything new. If anything, him dodging you is a sign of his civility, something you are lacking apparently--ready to jump his bones.

Stop thinking about his thighs, you whore. Get back home and trusty old Vlad the Impaler will take care of you.

The employee’s jaw almost hits the desk as Jungkook explains the situation.

“Ma’am, Sir, we are extremely sorry about this confusion. We usually keep another key for family members, but somehow you got them both. We are deeply apologetic.”

“Yes, it’s okay, I’d just like my room key now and-”

“We will give you the best of our service to make up for this disorder. Not that we didn’t plan on giving you the best anyway, but now it will be top-notch! Please allow us to have your room cleaned again ma’am. Kyuyoung-ah! Get the people to prep 5338 and set 5337 again, and add more flowers!”

“Hey, that really won’t be necessary, we can just go back and forget about all thi-”

“And!” She continues, relentless, fully intent on doing her job, “Here are coupons for our round the clock pub! The ambiance is phenomenal, and our bartender makes a mean drink! You can use the facility for free during your stay. Hope this compensates for our gaffe. Once again, we are extremely sorry!”

She extends two passport-sized coupons that you hurriedly grab, wanting this quandary to end.

The walk back to the elevator is less tight-lipped, only because Jungkook starts his deluge of apologies. Even though you had felt the same way on the flight, he was going overboard. You quickly assuage him and deflect his concerns.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. It really is. I know it was a mistake.”

“I know, but I shouldn’t have just walked in like that. I should have checked.”

Your expression is the visual form of a question mark.

“Do you go around making sure your hotel room doesn’t have a surprise occupant?”

You’re taking this too lightly; it's obvious you are doing it for him. He can only laugh, broad delicious shoulders loosening in relief.

After a delay, you add, “You can’t help it if fate wants us crossing paths like this.”

The quip makes Jungkook lose a beat. He cocks a brow in surprise - at that juncture, his features lose all boyish charm and turn unquestionably irresistible.

Then, in a flash, the expression is replaced by his usual grin, back to his boy-next-door spirit. Are there world records for this speed? Jungkook needs to sign up to one.

Collecting the stars floating around your head, you return the favor, thankful that the barrier is now broken.

After a quick break of courage gathering, you turn to him. “How come you’re staying in this hotel? Thought you’d be home.”

A thought is building in your mind; that this is too personal a question. But before you can take it back, you hear a chime. Jungkook moves. And somehow, you are moving with him.

The elevator door opens, and people walk out.

But that’s not where your attention is.

You are focused on the sole patch of your body in contact with Jungkook’s arm.

The palm of his hand sitting at the small of your waist is what had guided you away from the elevator. Even through the fabric of your t-shirt, his hand is sending goosebumps all over your body. The air feels twenty degrees too hot for you.

Jungkook is simply being his chivalrous self, while you are ready to get arrested for public nudity.

Woman, you are a disgrace. Get laid.

Jungkook will high five himself once he gets to his pad.

Is it right to get so euphoric about the smallest act of intimacy? That too with a near stranger? He has no answer. You are special to him; that much he knows. And someone up there agrees with him as well, letting him run into you again (albeit under crude circumstances; he’ll take what he gets). In this proximity, he can hear the slight gasp that escapes you once you recognize his hold, feel your muscles tense, smell the flowery fragrance you still carry. The fragrance that takes his mind on a rewind routine; one he forces to a halt. He feels lewd for taking pleasure in that misfortune, but he can take pleasure in the present.

Entering the elevator, Jungkook has taken note of one thing: the roles have been reversed. On the downward voyage, it had been him avoiding you. Now, even with the closeness, you refuse to meet his eye. Something on the carpeted floor has your unrelenting attention. Letting his gaze dip to you, he bit back a smirk. Good to know you are as affected by him as he is by you.

“It’s a shoot.”

You relent, looking up to him. “Huh?”

“You asked me why I’m here, it’s a shoot. The site is close by, so we don’t waste time traveling. Once the shoot is done, we will get back home.”

“Ah, that makes sense.”

You beg your grey matter to find some topic of conversation to halt the blood rushing to your cheeks. The atmosphere is frozen again, but not like last time. Any unease earlier present has drifted. The tension that once kept you from closeness now keeps you from moving apart. His hand sits unmoved, continuing to rest on your hip. Jungkook can hear the loud thudding of a heartbeat, but he cannot discern whether they are from his heart or from yours.

Continuing after a pause, “I will be here for a few days now.” he adds, the suggestive hint of the words masked by his innocuous smile.

“Ah.” You lamely add. You ought to kick yourself - but at this closeness, you might hit him too.

The span of your separation is contracting, even though none of you move. Like the land underneath you is shifting, because even Mother Earth can’t handle the sexual tension in this confined space.

“Ma’am, Sir, you’re here!”

The booming voice of an employee disrupts the scene. You jump, wondering how you didn’t hear the door open, while Jungkook takes a graceful step back unscathed.

“Your rooms are ready, please follow me.”

The walk back is quiet, except for bashfully exchanged glances and racing pulses. When you finally reach your respective rooms, he speaks again.

“Want to accidentally cross paths with me at the bar?”

The heat reaches your ears. A moment of silence prompts you to look up, and you are held hostage by his eyes. His gaze flickers, intense and probing. Then, as if it never happened, his eyes narrow and his smile softens, harmless and easy. Again, this has to be witchcraft.

“Maybe we’ll let destiny decide. Hasn’t failed us so far.”

Now, alone in bed with nothing but your thoughts, you wonder when it will ever happen again.

Three days. Three days before it happens again.

Three days filled with conferences, a ton of files, and a lot of battery acid disguised as coffee. Apart from the success of your work, the highlight of your time is when Jake tried to fix his shoe heel at a meeting and ended up gluing his fingers together. In a quiet room filled with immersed employees, he had yelled, “Superglue, my ass!”.

The punctuation was not vocalized.

Tonight was your last night in Seoul. It was supposed to be a night to yourself, but an office party pulled you out of your cavern to get dressed. You put on an elegant dress, a black and silver number, only to find the ‘party’ was the most monotonous excuse of networking. High-end businessmen exchanging cards over non-alcoholic fizz was not your idea of a party, so you quickly excused yourself.

The coupon still weighed heavy in your purse, carrying memoirs of the last time you saw him. You had wanted to go earlier, but always held yourself back. What if he wasn’t there? What if you missed your chance? Why did you have to sashay away with a cool statement that night instead of clawing your way through the lust-filled air and settling things then and there?

You supposed a drink at the hotel bar on your last night couldn’t be a bad thing, even if Jungkook didn’t show up.

So here you are, sipping on your wine and trying to appear nonchalant as you look out the window overseeing the city’s skyline. One ear is trained to the door of the pub, the slightest peep from that corner alerting your antenna.

So far, no sign of him.

This won’t work, you tell yourself. Second time’s a charm, third time’s pushing it too far.

But as you wave the bartender to top up your drink, the corner of your eye catches movement; one, two, three heads appear through the door. Signature multichromatic mops of hair make their way in, forcing your pulse to marathon mode.

And then you hear it.

You hear his trademark cachinnate echoing through the structure. Multitudes of contrasting sentiments fill your gut. Are you sensing relief, that fate served its purpose without fail? Or is it the anticipation of how events will unfold? A sense of titillation, that a three-day old bond makes you feel more than year-old relationships you’ve had? You pry your eyes from that direction, trying to appear aloof when you are anything but.

When you think you’ve gathered your composure, you look up. Like a hare falling for its bait, you are trapped, because he is looking right back at you.

Jin and Jimin are laughing about something that happened on set today, but Jungkook only has eyes for you. He can’t believe his luck.

The past few days, his schedule had no give. After every shoot, the only thing he remembered was taking off his shoes and falling into a deep slumber.

So today when the shoot wrapped up earlier, Jungkook grabbed his trusty wingmen and open bar enthusiasts to utilize his coupon, and possibly test his kismet.

“Wasn’t she on our flight?” Jin observes, tracking Jungkook’s sight.

“Oh yeah! Dude, is she the one?” Jimin keenly notes. “How do you keep bumping into each other like this?”

Jungkook downs his whisky, the burn felt from the throat to his diaphragm. “I don’t know, hyung. I don’t know what to do.” Beckoning the bartender for a refill, he tears away from your sight.

“Okay, liquid fortification is all good but how about,” Jin stops briefly to pluck the coupon out of Jungkook’s hands, “we handle the drinks department while you attend to her?”

Jimin nods in assent. “The worst thing you could do is spend time with her slurring and garbling while she ditches your sorry ass.”

“Hey! I won’t do that. Just, ” Jungkook gulps, “I don’t know... We’ve met like, hardly a few times. It really doesn’t make sense. What if we’re not on the same page?”

Jimin frowns, and even Jin seems unhappy with his reasoning.

“Things don’t have to make sense. You’re two consenting adults. You like her. By the way she’s eyeing you right now, I’m sure the feeling is mutual. You said it’s easy to talk to her right?”

Jungkook pouts, but sees his point.

“Then go with that. Don’t chart out a plan, just go with your heart.” Jin adopts a soft smile of encouragement.

“Meanwhile we will grab the others and exploit this coupon to the full extent!” Jimin gleefully appends.

Jungkook’s eyes crinkle as he laughs with the other two. They are right. Carpe diem, right?

Finding you again, his breath hitches. You look beautiful. The sleek black dress with silver embellishments over the torso. It hugs you in the right places, accentuating your already alluring frame. Your shoulders bare, elegant collarbones waiting to be tasted. Hair tied up, exposing the delicious curve of your neck, a stretch Jungkook wants to pepper kisses onto, without missing a spot. You look exquisite against the backdrop of the night.

Carpe noctem it is.

“Did you really dress up to use the coupon?” The tongue-in-cheek query breaking your line of thought.

A breathy chuckle leaves your lips, hopefully masking the frenzy in your heart.

“I had a party. A very dull party. Figured I preferred my own company over that.”

“Do you prefer your own company over mine?”

He’s still standing, tall frame waiting for your permission to occupy the next seat. God, he looks amazing.

“Not at all.” The words leave huskier than you intend, but they convey the message.

He takes the seat, a mere step away, his cologne wafting over to your side. The alcohol buzz makes the scent feel stronger, every bone in you wanting to dive in nose-first.

Apparently you have been staring, because he nervously chuckles “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Should you go the modest route or fuck it?

Fuck it.

“You look... great today,” is all you get out. Stupid brain spewing half-baked goods.

Understatement of the year. He looks like sin incarnate. All black attire highlighting his golden skin, the dichotomy of his whole look has you understandably tongue-tied. Black jeans - no rips, sadly- with a dark grey high-neck t-shirt, tucked in of course, because pain is the only constant for you. A black trench coat is thrown on top to seal the look. The obsidian outfit sends desperate need through your body, an intense desire to rip it all off surging through you. Somehow, through all these layers you can sense his fit body, his rippled muscles, his sturdy pecs, like they have an aura of their own.

“Ah, thank you. You look amazing as well.” Halting a moment to sip his drink, he resumes. “Sucks that you dressed up for nothing.”

“Well, you liked it. So it's not for nothing.”

If looks were potent, Jungkook’s own could set you on fire. Gaze coolly raking over your figure, the tick in his jaw betrays his reaction. A chill passes through every part of your body under his intense scrutiny.

“Are there other things you would wear… if I liked it?” He carefully treads.

“There are certain things I’m wearing right now that I’m sure you would appreciate.”

If not for the shrinking distance between you two, you couldn’t have caught the low hiss. His animalistic need, usually kept well under control, is raging against its bonds, screaming to let go. Your exquisite gown, flowing down your curves, accentuating the swell of your ass - God save this dress from his feral hands. Against his will, he restrains himself. He would make this a lasting encounter.

“How many drinks have you had?” He needs you to remember every single moment.

“Two glasses of wine, don’t worry. You?”

“A shot of whisky, that’s all. Haven’t even finished my second drink.”

Gone were his cherubic appearance and dimpled smiles; the man in front of you is oozing pure sex appeal. His clenched jawline, furrowed brow, and perfectly placed tresses add to his raw masculinity. The cusp of your thighs is damp; if this is his effect here, what will it be behind locked doors? You wonder whether this is the same man that gushed about old-era video games in the flight.

“Well, if you are wearing them for me, I’d be a fool to miss them.” he brings you back to the present. Twinkling eyes match your eager ones as you give a small nod.

Every step you take shoots a thrilling tingle through your spine. Every inch of distance closed forces you to close the next with doubled speed. Every foot forward adds to the thick air, laced with hunger, desire, and an inordinate amount of trust placed in the hands of a stranger.

The first time you two walked back to the elevator, his move had caught you unaware.

Now, the arm wraps around your entire waist, body flush against his, yet you yearn to get closer.

Last time, you couldn’t match his gaze, skin burnt a crimson hue.

Now, your eyes are locked together, any movement in your surroundings be damned.

Michael Jackson rising from the dead and performing Thriller wouldn’t tear you away from your current view (sorry MJ, maybe next time).

When the doors close, he places a palm on your bare back, bringing you to his chest.

“I’ve wanted this so bad, ever since I met you. It’s insane.”

The hand caressing your back makes you sigh. “Not if I wanted the same.”

His grip tightens. “The things I want to do to you...” eyes searching yours, ”tell me you can handle it.”

“Oh baby,” you drawl, “I’ll do whatever you want. Whatever it is,” your lips hover on his, “I can take it.”

The elevator doors opened too soon for your liking, and Jungkook drags you through the corridor. You’re practically hanging on to him, feet barely responsive, the faint buzz of wine making you giddy. His hawkish gaze soaks in everything you do, memorizing every response to his touch.

You lean over to lay wet kisses on his neck. Pleasure searing through his veins, Jungkook’s knees almost buckle. He pushes you against a wall and locks you in with his form.

“Uh-uh-uh, honey,” he tsks, “you’re not making this easy on me?”

You pretend to ponder. “Well, I didn’t plan on making it easy.”

He smirks, all sex, and the wetness between your legs is making its presence known. Leaning into your ear, he whispers, “Unless you want me to have my way with you right here…” and all your brattiness dissipates.

Satisfied, he grins. “Your place or mine?”

“Hmmn, depends.”

He cocks a brow. “On?”

“Am I gonna be able to walk tomorrow?”

That damned smirk. “Your place it is.”

Jungkook’s lips are on yours the moment your door is locked. He cages you against its frame, teeth clashing and biting anything they find. You let your hands roam all over, searching for something to hold on to. A throaty sound leaves Jungkook when your digits card through his hair and tug on it, a sound you gladly swallow.

Time seems to have taken a break. Your thoughts are blank. You chase the kiss like it's the only thing you know, the only thing you’re born to do, your sole mission in life before you die. The bruising pace Jungkook set is eagerly matched by you. Gravity is slowly losing its meaning, and you’re nothing but a stray entity floating in space. And this kiss is your only source of air.

Jungkook pulls you towards him, closing the nonexistent distance between you. Heat rises from his chest, the feeling is hypnotic beyond reason. A taste of you has ruined every other flavor. He kept his eyes half-open, sneaking peeks at your flushed face whenever you come for air. His fingers explored your body, grabbing your ass and pulling you into him. Your clothed crevice jolts at the friction, hips hounding for more.

The moan that leaves you gets muted, because Jungkook takes this opportunity to take control. Tongue forcing its way in to explore every corner of your mouth, it melds with your own muscle. If this were a dance, it would be a fierce tango, oozing with sexual tension. Breathing is now trivial, this kiss is imperative.

Jungkook’s hands grab your hips and twirl you, both of you now facing a full-length mirror. You can witness your neckline being abused, mulberry blossoms left in place. The sight has your sex clenching, and lips liberated, you couldn’t stop yourself from mewling.

“Fuck, Y/N. I’m going to make you scream so loud, the hotel reception will hear you.”

With your head spinning in lust, you try to form your words right. “An- And what? Discuss how a second room for you was - oh god - was useless?”

Jungkook pauses to admire his craft; your neck, shoulders, and collar are now littered with bruises, like a garden of hyacinth at his disposal. The view is maddening, your lusty gaze locked on to him in the mirror. His mane is tousled, no doubt your handiwork, and his hand is tracing the outline of your dress.

“That cursed day,” He chokes out, “You were so fucking hard to resist you know?”

You turn back to face him, hand reaching back to undo your halter neck, “You have me now.” Stepping back, you let your gown fall.

He froze. You are standing in front of him, robed in only your black lace-embroidered strapless bra, and matching panties, each adorned with a white bow. The swell of your breasts barely caged in the cups, making Jungkook drool at sight. All the wind was knocked out of his lungs; you look like a prisoner’s last meal, waiting to be devoured.

“On your knees.” he commands.

Not a second is put to waste. You begin undressing him, unbuckling the pants and aggressively pulling them down. Next come the boxers, and you are faced with-

Wow.

You mean this in the nicest way, but, what a dick.

He is already hard, the mushroomed tip angry and red, leaking a drop of precum begging to be tasted. The girth exceeds your expectation, already visualizing the delicious visual of your cunt stretched thin. He is going to reach places even Vlad the Impaler couldn’t; you are already brimming with anticipation for the final act.

And his thighs. Nothing angelic about them. Taut. Muscular. Sinewy. Something uncivilized in you wants them to trap your frame between them, caging you, pinning you down. You press kisses on his inner thigh, letting your tongue poke out when you hear him exhale. A sharp bite shocks Jungkook, but you only smirk.

“Wanted to do that since I saw you.”

The stare that meets you is practically challenging you to try that again, and perhaps reap some delicious consequences.

You bring yourself back, giving his cock the full attention that it deserves. Looking up, you see his half-lidded eyes, assertive and arresting, compelling you to go on.

You bring your palm up to him. He raised a brow in question.

“Spit for me.”

Jungkook almost busts his load when he hears you. “Fuck, so dirty.” he garbles out. Rolling his neck in an attempt to divert his blood, he takes your hand and drops a thick glob at the center of your palm.

A throaty moan arises from you, and his dick is harder than ever.

“Go on baby, show me you can suck dick like a champ.”

You give him a confident look; you’re about to rock his world. Starting with small licks, you tease the slit and taste the pre-cum lodged in it. Meanwhile, you work the spit along the shaft; you spit on it again, the original amount insufficient to cover the length. You can feel his dick twitching against your attention, eager to be sheathed. Interspersing with some long drags on the underside, you zero in on the pinched skin under the head.

Jungkook is staring at your jerking him off. The sight of you, clad in lingerie is blowing his mind. If that was not enough, the mirror in front is providing a sumptuous secondary perspective. The smooth stretch of your back, the swell of your ass, the panty fabric barely able to cover the expanse, everything on you is making him short circuit. Seeing you on your knees, your deferential nature stirs something in him. If he doesn’t control himself, he will bend you in half and ride you to sunrise. He doesn’t want to scare you, but fuck, his depraved early man instincts are telling him otherwise.

“What are you- ohhh, holy shi-”

Instead of slipping his cock fully into your mouth, you hold it up, and pay careful attention to his balls. Jungkook’s hands come to rest on your head, a telltale sign of his unraveling. With a smile, you let your tongue swipe through every nook and corner till they are coated in saliva.

“You think you’re such a fucking tease, ” He grabs you by your now unraveled tresses and pulls you back, “Ease up baby, your throat is in for a treat.”

In one quick swoop, he lodges himself at the base of your throat, provoking your gag reflex, but you restrain the urge to pull back. Breathing through your nose, you suck and swallow whatever you can; his girth isn't giving you much to work with.

Jungkook growls. “Such a tight fit. Like you’re meant to be like this. Forever.”

The last word slips out unwittingly.

Alarmed, his eyes flit down to gauge your response, but all you are doing is looking back at him.

Fuck, your dovelike eyes are captivating. They look so angelic, a complete contrast to the perverse posture you are in. Not an ounce of displeasure in response to his words. Pure, unadulterated affection for him. Only for him.

“God, you’re going to be the death of me.” Jungkook husks. “You’ll do anything for me, you said?”

Muffled whimpers impart your compliance, and you bob your head up and down for good measure. The tip of his cock hits every ridge of your throat, the vibration releasing more fluid down.

“Pleasure yourself, baby. Touch yourself, but don’t you cum.”

Your brow distresses further, a disgruntled whine leaving you and reverberating around him. Already so turned on, the lightest friction would make you combust.

Jungkook’s teeth clench. “Edge yourself for me, sweetie.”

It's like your body is tuned to his command. Slipping two fingers under the band, you part and slide them on either side of your throbbing nub. Despite you avoiding any pressure point that might push you over the edge, the pleasure threatens to tip you over.

You look over for his approval. Swallowing, he nods. Your self-stimulation is making him dizzy. It's time to get serious.

“Such a good girl. Don’t stop, okay? I’m going to fuck your throat raw.” Starting with mellow jerks, “Hope you don’t have to speak anytime tomorrow.” he rasps.

The carpeted floor grazing your knees only adds to the revelry. You’re not in control of yourself anymore. The back of your gullet is aching as Jungkook shoves into you again and again. An amalgamation of his salty juices and your dribble lewdly coats your chin and neck; you must look ravished. Everything with Jungkook feels augmented; every single motion of his making your sex clench.

He is close - you can feel his grip on your hair tightening.

“Can I cum on you?” words slither through his clamped teeth. You frantically nod.

With a loud grunt, he pulls you off and releases all over your chest, a stray pump landing on your chin. Thick liquid, dripping from your jaw onto your collarbones and breasts, the whole scene is filthy good. Your unfilled cunt is aching to be replete with the cum.

Post-orgasmic glow is dazzling on him--hair drenched in sweat, tufts sticking to his forehead. His breathing is heavy and resonant as dilated pupils take in your soaked state. Bending down, he crooks a finger under your chin, anchoring his attention on your dewy stare. The onyx embers in his eyes bore into yours, studying for any hesitation in them. A microscopic moment of tenderness, unspoken words exchange between you.

Satisfied to find only searing hunger, his digits collect the beads of cum on your jaw, pushing them back into your mouth. Your eyes roll skyward, relishing the briny taste, nearly asking him to do it again. Leaning further, he grabs the wrist of your hand that is thoughtlessly rubbing your sex - you didn’t even realize you were still doing it. You feel drained, like you orgasmed vicariously through him.

“My turn.” He wears a devilish expression on his archangel eyes.

Lips connect once again as he pulls you up. If he tastes himself, he is relishing it, with his tongue exploring the deep cavern. With wobbly ankles, you let him guide you to your bed, dropping on your back. He follows you, pouncing on you, plunging into your mouth again like a beast hungered. Bodies melting together like an icicle under the summer blaze, your hands hunt to frisk his skin. Realizing he is yet to undress, you yank at this t-shirt, attempting to liberate him from the offending fabric.

“Tsk, greedy.” he bit your ear, soothing the sting with a kiss.

“Cruel is what it is.” You huff, like everything he’s doing is not a blissful affair.

How do men do that? Violently ripping their shirt off and leaving a messy mop of hair in its wake, nevertheless looking like they could walk a runway the next instant. Jungkook was no exception. The moment he pulls his shirt off, you are rendered speechless.

Chiseled chest like the work of an artisan. Droplets of sweat race down the paths traced by the sculpted abs, an intense desire to taste them forming in you. He is a mesomorphic dream who puts Greek gods to shame. Swallowing, you let your hand trace the outline of his pecks, feeling him shudder against your touch.

“Jungkook, please.”

Who was he to deny you?

Leaning up to you with a wicked smirk, Jungkook drops a thick line of spit right on your hardened nipple. The concoction of his cum and spit soaks through the lacy material. A lone finger circles, avoiding the spot that requires the most attention. You arch your back, begging him for more, just more of anything. The wet fabric amplifies the emptiness in your cunt.

“Aww,” he coos, clearly amused by your neediness, “undo this for me, sweetness. Let me see you.”

Moving at lightning speed, you unhook the bra, swinging it away to a corner of the room.

“Oh no.” He mock-frowns, veins bulging on his arm as he controls himself. “Look at these tits, fuck.” Mind reeling with ideas, filthy ideas, of all the things he wants to do to you. “You’ve ruined everything else for me.”

You tremble. “Good, so have you. Want you for myself. Want you,” pulling him close, “to do your worst.” you end with a whisper.

Jungkook’s jaw tightens. “Careful what you ask for,” he grits before diving headfirst into your bosom.

He licks and laves and bites and laps--your breasts are on fire. Continuing his marking spree, new blemishes make an appearance on your torso. Nibbling on one nipple, he pinches the other; pulling moan after moan from you.

Your hips barely touch the bed, bucking up in response to Jungkook’s sinking teeth into your ample bust. He has decided to not leave an inch without his saliva, and like a man on a mission, covers every part with rapt attention.

“Yo- You don’t have to--oh holy fuck--you don’t have to, cover me in marks you kno--ohh my go-” The sentence is spastic, piercing mewls breaking your flow of speech and thought.

“These fucking tits,” roughly clasping your pert breast in his large palm, “they look so much better like this.” The proud smile he shows has not the slightest hint of regret.

Catching a break, he twiddles your nipples, letting his other hand sit on your covered sex. He is teasing you; you recognize that. Just giving you opportunities to disobey, to take all the pain he has to offer.

It’s a good thing you like the pain.

You slowly roll your hips, trying to grind against his palm, taking whatever help you can get.

A sharp smack lands on your clit, shooting your eyes open - you don’t even know when they closed. Jungkook’s hand is soothing the site of the blow, the pain converting to pleasure under his touch.

“Patience, sweetness,” the gravely whisper sending tingles down your spine, “such a good girl for me.”

You give him a slight nod - he smacks you again, once, twice, thrice, without a break. Your entrance is smarting, but you want to give him everything. Biting your lips to stop the labored moans escaping, you clench your eyes and savor the burn.

Your show of obedience has Jungkook’s heart thronging. Fuck, he was enjoying toying with you. Playing you like a fiddle. You produce every tone he desires in the form of wanton melodies, he wants to play them over and over again like his favorite song.

“How are we doing?” he asks, a shit-eating grin plastered on him. Before you could answer, his fingers shallowly enter your soaked pussy, still hampered by the cloth.

“You- fuck, you said I was the tease here?” Your hands are at his wrist, begging to pull the scrap of cloth aside and have his way.

He comes to face your sopping mound, pausing only to speak “Never said I wasn’t,” and starts pressing soft, feathery kisses. “That day, seeing you dripping in that towel, I dreamt of having these legs around me.”

“I swear, at least take it off - oh Jungkoo-”

Without warning, he kneads your ass and pushes you into his face.

You feel like you’ve been on the edge for hours. The suckle on your engorged clit along with the abrasion of the lace gets you so close. So damn close. So, so clo-

The tightness in your belly finally snaps and you howl, gushing your vat of arousal onto his face. The high was more intense than you had imagined, so high that you wonder if you will ever find your way back to reality. You feel like a rock in space, aimlessly floating in the vast nothingness.

You dimly notice Jungkook toying with the lacy hem of your panties, pulling it back to snap it against your hip. The sting is soon forgotten, along with your panties flung across the bed, as he parks himself back between your legs.

“You smell incredible.” He approves, taking a long whiff of your honeyed center. “Look at you, so messy.” He licks a long stripe along your crease. “Messy girl, I should clean you up.”

“Wait Jungkook-” you oppose, lids heaving in pleasure. “I need you inside me, please. I can’t take -oof”

Gnawing at your sodden folds, he let his nose press against your clit. “You’re so fucking tight, you think you can take me?” He shakes his head. “Gotta stretch you out, gotta make me fit.” He presses his tongue against your nub, feeling it throb in anticipation. “And I think you can give me one more.” He ends, before invading your drenched channel with two fingers. You are putting up with his torments the best you can; walls fluttering against his lips, legs entwined behind Jungkook’s back trapping him between your thighs.

“Ah! God - I, I can’t-” Your eyes are screwed shut, hands bunching the sheets in your grasp.

His fingers fluctuate between scissoring motions, their lengths opening you up for him and curling inside, fingertips finding the rough patch inside. He adds a third finger, pussy straining to accommodate them all. Your thighs clench in the burn, and he groans into your pussy at the pressure. Increasing the pace, he pumps into you harder and faster, sucking your puffy lips in tandem.

“Please, please, harder - let me cum - please oh go-”

“Fuck yeah baby, your pussy is just sucking me in. You like that? You like me shoving into your cunt?”

“Uungh yes yes I love it!”

“Doesn’t it hurt? Or are you such a slut for pain? Tell me, tell me you’re a pain slut.”

“Fuck, Jungkook, don’t you stop- I am! I am a pain slut! Your pain slut!”

“Goood girrrll,” he husks out. Even though he is taking charge, your words are what control him. “Only mine. My pain slut will come for me now.”

A spray of cum ejects out of you, coating Jungkook’s chest and inundating your legs. The coherent part in you recognizes that you just squirted, but the neanderthal side shuts all recognition of anything that is not Jungkook’s cock. Even after two climaxes, you are hungry to get more. More of him.

If you don’t fuck him now, you will lose your capability to reason.

Limbs still heavy and reeling from the ravaging, you pick your pieces and drag Jungkook to the headboard.

“I’m going to ride you.” you declare and straddle him.

Jungkook is staring fixedly at your still-leaking cunt. Running his tongue over his lower lip, and licking the remnant syrup of your release. You position yourself, letting the drippage fall directly on his erection. He twitches, eyes still feasting on the mess you are making.

Finding purchase on his shoulders, you lower yourself. Jungkook’s breath staggers as you drag your inner lips along his hard shaft. You repeat this motion till your fluids drip to his balls.

“Y/N, I swear to God, if you don’t stop with this-”

“You’ll do what?” you challenge, an eyebrow raised in response to his threat.

He grabs you by your waist, jerking you up before bringing you down on his dick. Your cunt, creamy from his earlier ministrations, gives no resistance to his hardness. His cock twitches inside as you bottom out. Pulling you closer, he bites your lip and tugs at it.

“I’ll do this.”

A sharp spank makes you clench around him, the supple flesh of your ass ricocheting in response.

“Go on baby, ride me.”

The low-grained command sets you in motion. Slowly gyrating your hips, you feel every ridge of this length inside. Jungkook’s grip on your waist tightens, and you’re sure you will see evidence of it tomorrow. Your grasp on his shoulders isn’t faring any better.

“You’re so tight, fuck, and so wet. Who made you like this, huh?” A second spank punctuating his question.

“Oh God, you-”, you barely manage to recognize your own voice, “You, Jungkook! Only you!”

“That’s fucking right, only me.”

Hips snapping, he meets you halfway. Both of you are lost in each other, lewd sounds of your skin slapping and juices quelching barely muffled by your desperate whines and moans of passion. Eyes locked in like magnets, neither of you could look away.

Jungkook pulls back a little, slapping your jiggling tit. Your sex clenches, and the following slap has you lodging yourself in the crook of his neck, searching for a reprieve.

“Want some help?”

One swift move and you are on your stomach, face pushed into a pillow, and ass out. A final spank lands right in the middle, and you can feel it pulsate everywhere. He pushes back into your glistening core, taking control of your pleasure and pain. One hand carding through the nape of your neck, pushing you down, the other hand grabbing your waist and setting the pace. The new angle hits deeper, you feel so full.

“Jungkoo--unghh I need to cum! Need to- umph- cum so bad!” You are wailing at this point, shame lying somewhere near your flung clothes.

“Fuck, babe, me too. Go ahead and play with yourself, nice and slow.”

It takes a few swipes for the tightness in you to detonate. Tears flood your face as you unravel, your orgasm crashing into you like waves of a tsunami. You clench tight, wetness flows out of your hole as Jungkook pumps in and out, chasing his high.

He comes undone soon after, ropes of his ejaculate filling your insides. He stays in, plugging you as if to not allow any of it out. But as his member softens, he gives in, turning you on your back to meet his face.

Butterfly-soft kisses are exchanged after the blazing encounter. He asks you if you’re okay between breaths, a tender murmur you almost miss, as if you weren’t screaming your lungs out moments ago. Nuzzling into his neck, you confirm.

A snort disrupts the silence. Looking up, you see Jungkook chuckling.

In response to your cocked eyebrow, he says “Want to talk about what a freak you are?”

“Want to talk about what a hypocrite you are?”

“Hey, you asked me to spit on you!”

You mock-gasp, hand on chest for the extra effect. “My breasts need medical attention after your attention! Freak!”

Laughter echoes in the room as you two tumble in the blankets, and you feel his release seeping out of you. Turning to him, you pout, “Your mess is leaking out of me.”

Jungkook gets up to leave the bed, and you expect a wet towel coming your way.

What you don’t expect is him parting your legs, gunmetal eyes following the rivulets escaping your abused hole.

“Your cunt smells so good with my cum on it,” he purrs.

He gathers the escaping thick liquid and pushes it back into your quivering core.

Jolting with oversensitivity, you try to stall him but he is fingering you with a vengeance. The ache and soreness soon dispel, bringing forth a new wave of ecstasy. His unrelenting stare concentrates on the mix of fluids on his fingers. With a few strokes on your sensitive bundle of nerves and fingers stuffed inside, you come again, legs shivering and pussy overflowing, his juices intermingled with yours.

You are dazed; you’ve lost track of everything. The room is spinning in front of you and your body feels like lead. All you can manage is to arch your neck, and plead, “No more, you freak.”

Jungkook giggles, eyes crinkling in good humor. Ah, the duality of this man is a force to reckon with. You can’t believe this is the same man that fucked you into your bed like a primordial beast. There’s no way you can move anytime soon.

After a clean-up interval, you are wrapped in each other's arms, melting into the embrace. His musky fragrance putting you at ease, you tuck your in the nook of his neck, basking in the aroma. Hands pressed against his broad chest, exuding warmth for you. His hand cradles your head, snuggling in closer till there is no space to cover. Sweet nothings whispered into each other’s lips, tender kisses exchanged in place of the scorching ones that had passed. You drift in and out of your slumber, fearing the sun would ascend too soon and break you apart.

A dim glow from the other end of the bed wakes you up. On turning you find Jungkook, dressed in his now-wrinkled clothes, seated on the edge. His gaze, pensive. You lay a hand on his thigh.

“Oh, did the light wake you?”

The alarm on his face makes you smile. “No, your absence did.”

The corners of his mouth turned up, eyeing you with softness.

“I have an early schedule. I didn’t want to wake you, but, ” he lets his palm rest on yours, “I also didn’t want to leave without it.”

Neither of you know how to walk away from this. The silence is deafening, unuttered sentiments hanging in the still air. Jungkook’s chest is heavy.

This is insane. He wants to lay you against a bed of flowers, treat you like the delicate petal you bear resemblance to, worship your body till the sun succumbs to your blazing passion. How is he to explain that his heart is beating through his chest for someone he knows for mere days? He rifles through his memories for a similar instance.

He finds none.

Maybe you don’t feel the same way. Maybe, you are blissfully unaware of the tumultuous emotions lurching in the pit of his belly. He can’t assume you will echo his lovesick needs, but he can’t let go.

You inch closer.

Fervid feelings die hard. He probes your eyes searching for an intensity matching his.

You let your lips convey the answer.

Passionate as ever, you draw him into the kiss. His lashes flutter against your rosy cheeks. At the moment, there is no dominance in him. Almost like his tongue, dragging across your swollen lips, is healing the brutality of last night. If you pull back, he comes after you; an incessant tug of war no player wants to win.

“Please Jungkook,” you choke between kisses, “Please tell me this isn’t the last of us.”

He is hovering on top of you, the galaxy in his eyes twinkling at your words.

“Please, I don’t want this to end.” You continue against his lips. Head versus heart, you fought a losing battle; how were you to stall the inevitable? Fueled, you plunge your tongue into him, determined to make your ardor known. The void of ferocity is filled with slow sensuality; like he is the sole reservoir to quench your thirst.

“Y/N”, he breathes out, “I feel like I know everything about you and nothing about you at the same time.” Resting your foreheads against one another, he continues. “I’m not about to let fate decide when we cross paths again.”

A grin finds your lips. “Destiny really pulled its weight here, didn’t it?”

He wordlessly nods, not wanting to break the tranquility in place. However, it is short-lived; his phone’s ringer makes sure of it.

“Yeah, I’ll be right down.” Something the speaker says turns Jungkook scarlet red. “I said I’ll be right there!” he yells before ending the call.

“The members are asking why I wasn’t in my room.” he clarifies, waggling his brows. You join his laughter, happy to have just the simple moment with him.

After exchanging numbers (and a photo for keepsake), Jungkook presses one last kiss, lips promising to find each other again. Somehow, you don’t say goodbye. You just stare at his disappearing body, confident that the next encounter is not far.

Jake is babbling about his night, how he managed to ditch the god-awful party and hang out with some overenthusiastic college-goers who paid for his drinks with their trust fund dough. This is usually the time you ask him if he’s proud of mooching off of children, but today his exaggerated narrative is cracking you up.

His forehead creases. “What’s up with you today? You haven’t vowed to skin me alive even once.”

“You like it when I threaten bodily harm?”

“I’m kinky like that.”

You just shrug. Erotic images make a fleeting appearance in your mind, but they are interrupted by your flight announcement.

“Aren’t you glad this is over? You can go back to overworking yourself in your office instead of a hotel!” Jake remarks, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “At least your back won’t break in the travel.”

Thinking over your experience in the city, you confess “Actually, I look forward to returning here.”

A thought slips in, curving your mouth into a smile. You quietly add,

“And yeah, my back was broken all right.”

Thank you for making it to the end! Please do let me know what you think!

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shes-a-gryffindor · 3 years

Text

Of Apples and Psychological Lapses

A @jilytoberfest submission. Prompt #12 - One overhearing something they're not supposed to.

That day, on an otherwise uneventful morning, it started with an apple, of all things.

James Potter sat straddling the bench at the Gryffindor table, poring over what Lily supposed was a textbook, elbow on a knee with an apple in his hand.

Only half listening to Mary’s recitation of the ingredients for the Draught of Living Death that they were supposed to be brewing later that day, she chanced upon another look at him…. the muscles in his jaw jumped as he bit into his apple, and as she watched him laugh at something she couldn’t hear, Lily found herself wondering whether he’d always had that dimple in his cheek… before she’d had the chance to mentally scold herself for her apparent loss of self-control, James caught her eye; grinning roguishly, he winked at her before taking another bite…

“You’re doing it again,” said Mary,

Lily’s neck snapped so quickly away from James she thought she might have whiplash, “doing what?”

“Making love eyes at Potter” she sniggered.

“Don’t be daft,” responded Lily dismissively, “I was not giving him love eyes” she added, silently cursing the blush now creeping up her neck, “…anyway, the ingredients…for today, you were reading them…” a lame attempt at a change in subject.

Mary smirked at her for a moment before returning to her textbook; relieved that she’d been let off the hook, Lily focused intently on Mary’s recitation, despite already knowing the ingredients from memory, she was determined not to look over again at the group of boys sitting only a few feet away from them.

Thinking they’d get a head start on the swarm of students that would soon be filing out of the hall, they packed their books and downed the last of their pumpkin juice. As she stood, Lily glanced quickly over at James again, he was in animated conversation with Sirius, the apple hanging loosely from his fingers at his side… and a ridiculous idea crossed her mind.

Deliberating over it in the seconds it took them to reach the spot where he was sitting, before she’d even really decided upon it, she’d snatched the apple out from his hand, twisting her head round to wink back at him, before taking a bite of what was now her apple.

“Shut up,” she smirked at Mary, who was looking at her with raised eyebrows.

The rest of the day continued in a similar fashion; she felt his eyes burning into the back of her head during Transfiguration, then found herself loitering after class, trying to chance perhaps walking out at the same time as him… before realising she was behaving like an idiot and walking quickly out alone.

History of Magic was, in particular, a challenge. It was, as usual, rather impossible to focus on the monotony that was Professor Binns' lesson.

Serenely unaware that no one seemed the least bit interested in his thorough breakdown of wand legends through time, he droned on… “The Death Stick, The Wand of Destiny…” and by the time the lesson was over Lily and James had shared several silent exchanges across the classroom.

Potions that afternoon was perhaps, although short-lived, her only reprieve. Lily was quite comfortable in her element, happily brewing her Draught of Living Death. Having already reached the ideal halfway stage, she smiled contentedly down at the smooth, black currant-colored liquid in her cauldron.

Just as she was about to start chopping her roots, she caught James, brow furrowed, curiously observing her potion, before looking back at his own - which appeared to be eliciting a sort of blue-ish haze, not horrible but certainly not what it should have been doing by that point… better, if nothing else, than Peter’s… who was looking more distressed by the minute at the now foul smelling, brown concoction bubbling in his cauldron.

“Care to share your expertise, Evans?” Asked James, grinning over at her. With his sleeves rolled up over his elbows, his forearms were tense as he shifted his body weight onto them, leaning over the table toward her… and Lily thought quietly, that the dimple in his cheek was obviously not the only thing she’d failed to notice.

“Afraid not, Potter,” she responded, “see If I told you, I’d have to kill you… although, could be doing myself a favour there,” she added, smirking at him.

“Better not then, otherwise you might actually get some peace and quiet… can’t have that,” he said seriously.

“Merlin forbid,” she mumbled, in mock exasperation.

“Merlin forbid,” began Sirius, “all this terrible flirting makes me throw up in my cauldron.”

Mary and Peter burst into a fit of giggles, even Remus, it seemed, found it amusing, while James just grinned down at his cauldron.

“Your potion can’t get any worse than it already is Black… I say try it,” Lily mocked.

Sirius, however, had cast his attention elsewhere.

From the corner of the next table over, having apparently overheard the entire exchange, Severus was looking darkly over at them. His eyes flickered briefly between James and Lily before returning to his potion. She knew she’d been shamelessly flirting with him, for days, weeks really… what she hadn’t realised was how blatantly obvious it was becoming, to everyone even beyond their friends; blushing furiously and feeling rather sheepish, she scowled at Sirius, who was still grinning smugly over at Severus, before returning to her own potion.

As she made the last of her rounds that evening, her mind once again wandered to what was fast becoming something, or rather, someone, she thought about much too often. He’d looked a little too smug after catching her at dinner - watching, as a Hufflepuff in the year below them asked for his help with a Transfiguration essay that weekend… in addition to self-control, she was now apparently also losing her common sense… it was perfectly acceptable that he help another student with an essay, why should this bother her…? But honestly an essay over the weekend, she thought… ask the bloke out and be done with it, what a stupid excuse… Surely he knew the girl fancied him.

The sinking feeling in her stomach at the thought of them, tucked away in a quiet corner of the library poring over an essay together, was extremely disconcerting, this sudden interest in who he was spending time with… He’d made his existence impossible to ignore for the better part of six years, perhaps now that he wasn’t asking her out at every turn her mind was playing that stupid game, the one where you only want something because it’s not as easy to get anymore, not because you genuinely want it… some psychological lapse in judgement… yes that must be it; so trying to force her thoughts back into some semblance of order, Lily resolved to get a grip.

She met Remus in the dungeons and together they checked the last of the corridors before heading back up to the common room, chatting about weekend plans, their upcoming exams and whether they had anything planned for the summer holidays before their seventh year.

Lily was careful to steer the conversation in another direction anytime it got a little too close to James, so she wasn’t exactly thrilled (maybe a little bit) when they stepped through the portrait hole to find James, Sirius and Peter sitting alone in the common room. With a warm smile, Remus bid her goodnight and went to join his friends in front of the fire.

“All right, Evans?” Asked James, grinning that lone-dimpled grin as she walked past.

Shooting him a quick tight lipped smile, she trudged up the staircase to her dormitory with an infuriatingly pink face; she had just reached the top of the staircase, however, when she heard Sirius snigger -

“Reckon she might actually prefer you to the giant squid now.”

Failing in her resolve to get a grip before she’d even begun, and apparently not above eavesdropping now either, Lily stopped and stood there at the top of the staircase, dead silent, craning her neck to listen to them.

“What?” Asked James, “What makes you say that?” In his voice, Lily heard a hint of what she thought sounded like hope.

“Are you daft? Or do you just want to hear it all back?”

“A bit of both I think,” chuckled Remus.

“Did you not see Snivelly’s face in potions? Even he can tell she fancies you mate,” said Sirius, dryly.

“Looked a bit put out, didn’t he?” Chuckled James.

“A bit? Looked like he didn’t know whether to cry or hex you,” chortled Peter, “d’you reckon him and Evans… you know-”

“What? Asked James, cutting him off, “went out?”

“Nah,” answered Sirius quickly, “who’d want to go out with that? Didn’t they know each other from before school, or something?”

“Yeah… they were friends,” said James, with finality in his voice.

“‘Till he showed his true colours,” scoffed Sirius, “…bit naive of her though, don’t you think? To think that he’d be anything but the slimy git he is.”

Lily had half a mind to go down and give Sirius a piece of her mind, until…

“Nah,” said James, “I reckon she knew who he was the whole time… she just chooses to see the good in everyone, y’know? Even a slimy git like Snivellus.” When no one said anything, he added, “Personally, I don’t think she should change that about herself.”

There was silence… and then someone made a dry-retching sound like they were throwing up, followed by scuffling and a series of thuds, “gerrof!” Came Sirius’s muffled voice, over Peter and Remus’s laughter.

Deciding she’d heard enough, Lily tiptoed quietly into her dorm; and as she pulled the scarlet hangings of her four-poster around her that night, she thought perhaps her interest in James Potter wasn’t a psychological lapse in judgment at all.

#jily fic #jily love #jily fanfiction #marauders fic #marauders and lily #marauders era #the marauders #james potter x lily evans #pining #mutual pining #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic #jilytober fest #jilytober

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hyucks-archive · 3 years

Text

blue.

word count: 2,666

genre: angst, female!reader, ex-boyfriend!mark

member(s): mark, jaemin, jeno

warning(s): none

author’s note: did you know that blue is supposedly the #1 ‘favourite colour’ in the world? :o

“Why are you seated here alone?”

You turn in the direction of where the voice had come from, looking up to meet eyes with Jaemin, who is looking at you with a tender, sweet smile. “Mind if I join?” he asks, to which you shake your head, patting the spot next to you. He seats himself down beside you, dipping his legs into the chlorine-filled pool water. You kick your legs gently, watching as your subtle movements form gentle ripples on the surface of the light blue water.

“Shouldn’t you be with your girlfriend?” you ask. Jaemin’s smile widens at the mention of her; would the mention of you, put a smile on his face too? You scoff internally – in what world would that be possible? There’s a reason you’re seated here alone. “She couldn’t make it today,” Jaemin shares, taking a sip from his blueberry mocktail. “Why aren’t you hanging with the boys?” he questions. You have your eyes fixed on the blue water in front of you.

Johnny’s Suhmmer Party has always been an annual tradition for you and your friends. Every year, Johnny would host a massive summer party, welcoming the start of summer at his beach house. While you aren’t one to dig parties, you’d still attend, just because it’s a friendship thing. And, even when you’d sit by the pool, away from the crowd, you wouldn’t be alone. You’d be beside him. But this year, marks the first year, that things are different. You had considered skipping out on attending the party altogether, but you knew that it’d only invite unwelcomed questions. You didn’t want your friends worrying for you, at least, not after how much you tried to convince them that you were fine.

Instead, you made sure to arrive early, and steer away from the main house, where most of the guests would be. That probably makes it a thousand times clearer that you’re avoiding something. But Jaemin is the sweetest boy out of the lot, the only one who’d be willing to play dumb and act as though he doesn’t already know your answer to his question.

You smile, turning to make eye contact with him. “It’s stuffy inside,” you lie.

Jaemin leans forward, looking at the area surrounding you. “You didn’t even get yourself a drink?” he asks. You wouldn’t risk it. Jaemin lifts his legs out of the pool, pushing himself off the ground, into a standing position. “I’ll go get a drink for you. What drink do you want?” he offers. You maintain the smile on your face, replying with, “Blue lagoon.”

“Non-alcoholic?”

You nod your head. “I’ll be right back,” he says, turning on his heel to head back into the main house to get your drink.

You refocus your attention on the pool water beneath you. There’s music pumping in the background, but all you seem to be able to capture are the subtle sounds the water makes as it dances with the gentle summer breeze. You breathe a sigh, eyes travelling upwards, towards the night sky. The night sky is always said to be a dark shade of blue, but all you see, is a blanket of black. You wonder if it’s just you, or if the blue is just not striking enough to the naked eye.

Taking in a deep breath, your eyes continue to travel around, browsing through your surroundings. You smile when you spot Jungwoo in the distance, showing off his ‘perfect’ re-enactment of that one move he loves from Tom & Jerry. The group of friends he’s with bursts into laughter, and despite the shy smile on Jungwoo’s lips, you know how smug he’s feeling inside, having succeeded in being a comedic relief to his friends.

Then, unexpectedly, or perhaps, with a tiny sense of hope that it would happen tonight, your eyes land on the one being that would make up the sole reason as to why you’d get up and make a beeline for the main house. Yet, you remain still in your position, eyes lingering on his silhouette for far too long. He turns his head to look at Yuta, granting you the perfect view of his side profile. Even from an angle, you can still see the sparkle in his eyes.

The sparkle, that was once solely elicited by you.

You’re still able to recall the first time you had met Mark. He was loud, but he was also shy. He giggled often, and laughed at almost every little thing Johnny would say. When he met eyes with you for the first time, you couldn’t deny the jittering feeling that spread throughout your entire body. He was charming, to say the least. And when he introduced himself to you, you were pretty much sold on how ethereal he seemed to be. At least, in your eyes, he was.

Looking at him from a distance like that, you’re only affirmed that Mark Lee is indeed, and will always be, that ethereal being in your heart. Nothing can change that.

“What are you staring at?” Jaemin’s voice interrupts, bringing you back into reality. You shake your head, reaching for the beverage in his hand, “Nothing,” you lie, again. Jaemin glances in the direction of where you were looking, his eyes immediately meeting Mark’s. Jaemin reclaims the seat beside you, jumping straight into conversation, to ensure that he engages your attention. He knows that it’ll only leave you overthinking, if you knew that Mark’s staring.

“What are you going to do over the summer?” Jaemin begins, drawing up a topic of discussion. You hum in thought, “I haven’t really thought about it,” you say, pressing your lips into a thin line. “I was thinking, laying in bed and rotting my days away,” you inform, a proud smile punctuating the end of your sentence. Jaemin chuckles at the information.

“Come on, you have to get out of the house,” he says.

“And do what? Rot under the sun?”

“I don’t know, maybe spend a peaceful reading day by the beach? You love to read, don’t you?” he suggests. Your mind goes blank at the word ‘peaceful’. Indeed, sitting by the deep blue sea, under the clear blue sky sounds extremely pleasant and tranquil. Yet, all your brain seems to be able to think about at the mention of a peaceful day, is Mark Lee.

Mark has always been your peace. On days that you were overly anxious for your final examinations, his presence alone served in every way you needed, to calm you down. On days where it felt as though the world would cripple and fall down on you, his presence alone provided you with the serenity you sought for. Mark was always like your personal, bright sky – he was always there for you, no matter where you were. You’d look up, and you’d see him smiling down at you.

Mark Lee was always like the light blue hue of the sky; he was peace, and he was serenity.

At least, he was all that, when he was yours.

Jaemin waves a hand in front of your zoned-out face. “Hello?” he calls out. You snap back into your senses once more, meeting eyes with Jaemin. “Sorry,” you murmur. Jaemin’s shoulders sink slightly when he sees how you immediately reach for your blue lagoon, sipping at it as you continue to be lost in thought.

“Hey,” Jeno greets, taking a seat beside Jaemin. “What’s going on?”

Jaemin tries to send a signal to Jeno, by gesturing towards you with his eyes. Jeno frowns, raising a brow. “What?” he mouths. “Do something,” Jaemin hisses, nudging Jeno. Jeno blinks a few times, still failing to grasp the situation. He calls for you, and you turn to face him. “Let’s go get a drink. An alcoholic one, this time,” he says, flashing his signature eye smile at you. Jaemin nods his head enthusiastically, encouraging with, “That sounds like a good idea, doesn’t it?” He places a hand on your shoulder, smile sincere as he urges for your agreement.

You shake your head, forcing a small smile. “You guys go ahead,” you say.

It’s weird. It’s funny how dependent you’ve become.

In the past, you could drink as much as you want, because you knew you had someone to fall back on, someone who’d ensure your safety, someone who’d take care of you. You’ve gotten so used to having that pillar of dependability, that you’re no longer able to drink, without knowing that he’d be there for you. Now that he isn’t, drinking will never be an idea you’re able to go along with. Sounds ridiculously stupid, but no one would understand something like this, unless they’ve been put in the same situation themselves.

You stare at the bright blue, medium hue blue lagoon mocktail in your hand. If it contained alcohol, and if you were drinking it a year back, in this very spot, Mark would’ve rushed to your side, chiming at you to watch your alcohol intake, because of your low alcohol tolerance. You chuckle bitterly; it’s as though you’re able to see the reflection of Mark so clearly in the drink – somehow, someway, Mark always seems to be able to plant himself at the back of your mind.

Mark resembles what medium blue is supposed to represent – dependability.

“Mark!”

You whip your head around – damn, the reflection in the glass was an actual reflection of Mark.

Jaemin and Jeno exchange looks. “What are you doing here?” Jaemin begins, laughing almost too awkwardly.

You remain in your position, eyes on Mark. Perhaps a part of you wanted this encounter to happen. You can’t just erase a person from your heart when they walk out on you. Then again, perhaps a part of you isn’t ready for this at all.

Cold. That’s the only word you can use to describe Mark’s gaze.

Mark always looked at you with nothing but love and affection in his eyes. When you needed assurance, all you had to do was look at Mark, and he’d send endless messages of reassurance and security through his gaze. Mark’s presence used to be like a blanket of security; his eyes would resemble the dark blue of the night sky – no matter how late it might be, no matter how alone you might feel, you can always trust that he’d be there for you.

Mark was your dark blue all this while; the most trustworthy presence in your life.

Yet the same pair of eyes that once looked at you like you were the most precious thing alive, is now looking at you, like you’re no different from the grass that people trample on day and night. You swallow. Mark keeps his eyes locked on yours, as he answers Jaemin, “Saw you guys hanging over here. Thought I should stop by to say hi.”

From what point, did Mark lose his warmth?

Blue was always your favourite colour. To be under the dark blue sky, a bright, medium blue beverage in hand, with your feet dipped in the light blue pool; blue is supposed to make you feel at peace. But somehow, tonight feels unsettlingly cold. Is it because you lack the one most important blue in your life?

“Can I sit?” Mark asks. You can feel Jeno and Jaemin’s stare, so you turn towards them. With a soft smile, you reassure, “I’ll be fine. You guys go ahead, okay?” Jaemin makes sure to leave an encouraging squeeze on your arm, whispering, “I’ll run back here if you need me,” before taking his leave with Jeno. Mark takes a seat on your right. He mirrors your position, dangling his legs over the edge of the pool.

“I didn’t think you’d be here tonight,” he says, almost too gently. He isn’t wrong. Former you would’ve refused until the end, unwilling to show up at a party where you’d potentially bump into your ex. But present you was too attracted to the colour blue, that you couldn’t stay away. You miss having the sense of trust, the sense of loyalty, and the mutual understanding that required no words at all. You smirk pitifully; it’s all still here. At least, it is for you.

“I didn’t think you’d come and talk to me. I guess we’re both full of surprises tonight, huh?” you say, mustering the courage to look at him. He’s staring at you with his doe eyes, except, they don’t light up the way they used to. It serves as a reminder – the Mark before you is different from the Mark you’re used to. The Mark before you, is cold and distant. At what point did Mark become like that? It still baffles you ’till this day.

“How have you been?” he asks, showing too much concern for your comfort. You wish he had that in him when he was minutes away from walking out from your life.

“I’ve been fine,” you lie, for the nth time tonight. “What about you?”

“I’ve been busy,” he replies, looking away. “So much has changed, it’s nice to be able to come back and see all these familiar faces.”

You take a pause, mentally dissecting his words. Furrowing your brows, you question, “You moved?”

Mark looks back at you, a soft smile on his lips. “I moved,” he says. “Why?” you ask. “We both know why,” he tells you. Your brows knit together. Do you?

You shift your gaze to your feet that’s distorted because of the water. You were both young, with your own goals that you were individually working towards. While you were passionate about achieving your goals, Mark was tenfold as passionate as you were. He worked hard, day and night. It got so serious to the point that he was barely there for you. But you didn’t mind. The process of reaching one’s dream is never easy. What mattered was that the two of you were still supportive of each other. When he was present, he was still the same sweet, dependable, trustworthy Mark.

But to Mark, he was a good-for-nothing. Who cares if he had a dream, a passion, when he can’t even make his significant other happy? He knew you were struggling. He wanted to put an end to that.

At some point in the relationship, you began to feel sad. You felt lonely. Far from peace and tranquillity.

But Mark was always your blue. He was the blue that spread in your heart, that made you feel understood, that made you feel security. You understand why they say blue is wet now. At what point, did the blue spread so much, that it began soaking your heart? Too much blue results in feelings of melancholy, negativity, and sadness. At what point, did Mark become so overwhelmingly blue?

Mark left because he knew he was too much for you. He couldn’t find the right balance. You deserved someone who could.

Unknowingly, the two of you have been sitting by the pool, staring into each other’s eyes.

Was blue always this depressing of a colour?

“Did you move permanently?” you ask.

Mark nods his head. “I’ve settled down,” he says.

You’re about to probe further, but both of your attentions are captured by the sweet voice that yells, “Mark!” from a distance. You look in the direction from where the voice had come from.

“That’s my fiancé,” he informs, voice soft. He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.

Your lips part slightly at the revelation.You can’t even pretend that you didn’t see the way his eyes brightened up at the mere sound of her voice.

That’s right. A heart that’s gone, can never be caught again.

You force a smile. “Congratulations.”

“We’ll catch up again?” he says, already getting up.

“Sure,” you manage out, feeling the sting in your nose as the tears begin to well in your eyes.

Maybe it is time to let go of the colour blue.

#nct scenarios #mark scenarios #mark angst #mark fluff #mark #nct angst #nct imagines #mark imagines #nct #nct dream #nct 127 #nct mark #fic #fic: blue #series: colours

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elvish-sky · 3 years

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The Arms of the One You Loved {Legolas x Reader}

A.N: Thank you for the request Anon! I'm sorry it's so long, I got a little carried away. Also, I can't drink so I have no idea what being drunk is like so I hope I did ok writing it! Enjoy!

Anon request from Tumblr: Heyy, could you do a Legolas x reader where reader gets really drunk (probably playing drinking game with dwarves) and Legolas has to take care of her since she has no clue what she's doing or saying, and make it fluffy pleaseee 🥺 And thank you!

Word Count: 3,149, oops! I’m sorry its so long!

Pairing: Legolas x Reader

Summary: The Fellowship stops at an inn one night and you get very drunk, leading you to say and do some things you normally wouldn't.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, kissing, alcohol/drunkenness.

****

The Arms of the One You Loved {Legolas x Reader}

"Ok," Gimli whispered. "So Gandalf and Boromir each have ten silver coins on Legolas to confess first, Aragorn has fifteen on Y/N, Merry, Pippin, Frodo, and I have each placed six on Legolas, and Sam has eight on Y/N ." Everyone placed their coins in an empty pouch of Gandalf's, which he cinched tight and put in one of his many pockets. They were all sitting around a table in an inn where you had stopped for the night, in a town a little larger than Bree. It was a respectable inn, built of old wood planks that glowed in the light coming from the fireplace, and was hazy with the smoke of pipes.

You and Legolas were getting food and ale and had absolutely no idea this conversation was even happening. The rest of the Fellowship had noticed the tension and chemistry between the two of you and had been for a while, so they had decided to do something about it. Clearly, they were all rooting for you to get together, but they were going to have very different approaches to getting you to do so.

You returned to the table and set down one of the platters laden with food, Legolas following with the other. He was quickly accosted by all the hobbits except Sam, and Gimli, while you made your way over to sit next to Aragorn and Gandalf. You slid in between them and were confused by the smirks on their faces. You followed their gazes to the end of the table, where Merry, Pippin, and Gimli were chatting with Legolas. You couldn't make out what they were saying, although you thought you saw Merry mouth your name, and there were smirks on the face of all three. You then noticed Boromir and Sam whispering together, and it sounded like an argument where you caught snatches of your name, as well as Legolas'.

Growing increasingly confused, you turned to Aragorn. "Why is everyone talking about me?" "I have no idea, Y/N" he stated, and then changed the subject to one you dreaded. "I've been noticing you and Legolas lately." "What is there to notice?" you replied acidly. "Oh, nothing," Aragorn airily replied. "Just the way the two of you are always together. Walking together, getting the food together... One might think something was going on between the two of you!" You felt the blood rush to your cheeks as you blushed and vehemently denied this. "Nothing is going on between me and Legolas! Besides, even if I did feel something, who's to say he'd feel the same? I mean, look at him. Prince of Mirkwood, elf, everything I am not." Aragorn had a knowing glint in his eye when he countered, "I think you'd be surprised, Y/N. Elves don't always prefer other elves." As he spoke, you saw his hand reach down to rest over the necklace he carried that you knew belonged to his beloved Arwen. Seeing your eyes follow his hand and then wistfully glance back to Legolas, he said, "Just tell him how you feel, Y/N. What harm could it do, to be honest with him?" "He could not love me, Aragorn. That's the harm it could do. I would rather be hopeful and not know than know that my feelings were not returned."

You were drawn out of this conversation by Gimli, who had gathered everyone's attention. "Let's have a drinking contest!" he proclaimed. You brightened, thinking maybe the alcohol would take your mind off of a certain elf. Gandalf proceeded to stand and walk away, as he went declaring "I'm too old for this nonsense! Give me a pipe over ale any day." Frodo rose, and with a quiet "good night" went upstairs as well, followed by Sam. "Anyone else too scared to challenge the champion?" Pippin asked. When you didn't move, Gimli blathered, "Y/N, a drinking contest is no place for a lass. Perhaps you should go rest and leave the drinking to us." You bristled and immediately got up to grab a pint of ale. Returning to the table, you declared "game on, dwarf," chugging the whole mug and slamming it onto the table. The looks of surprise from the males quickly turned to those of determination, and they scrambled to get their own mugs and catch up.

An hour and five pints later, you were all in varying states of drunkenness. Merry had been the first to stop, puking after two. Pippin had fallen asleep after three, and they had been carried upstairs by Boromir, who had bowed out after four pints. Gimli looked like he would tip over at any moment, and Aragorn looked a little sleepy, but Legolas looked serene as ever. Clearly, alcohol didn't affect elves in the same way it did others. You, meanwhile, could barely think straight, let alone see straight. You weren't even sure who was still at the table. You could discern a smaller shape that was either Gimli or Pippin slumped on the table and two larger ones. You sat up a little as a crash rang from the room, signifying Gimli falling from his stool fast asleep. "I'll bring him up." Aragorn rose, a little shakily, and poured water over Gimli's head, causing him to splutter and stagger to his feet. They made their unsteady way up the stairs, supporting each other. As they went, Legolas looked back to your seat and let out a soft curse. You were gone.

While Aragorn and Gimli were leaving, you had appeared on top of a table and had begun singing a drinking song that Merry had taught you while walking one day. "There is an inn, a merry old inn, beneath an old grey hill," you began, and as you sang you started to dance a jig, which involved a lot of flailing. You were quickly cut off by Legolas, who had sprung onto the table next to you. "My deepest apologies that this performance will be unable to continue, but my friend here needs to get some rest," he declared while barely able to keep a straight face. To the boos of the crowd, who probably had not witnessed a woman make such a spectacle of herself in a long time, he picked you up and carried you bridal-style upstairs.

Once upstairs, he plopped you down onto your bed. He turned to grab you a blanket, intending to tuck you in and then leave, but was stopped by you. "Legolas." "Yes, Y/N?" "You look pretty." you slurred, standing up and staggering towards him. "I like your hair, and your face, and your tunic, and..." you trailed off as your eyes met his. "Y/N," he murmured, "you are very drunk and you don't know what you're saying. You should sleep now." "Don't wanna sleep," you mumbled as you began to undo your tunic laces, "not tired." Legolas realized you were beginning to undress, "Whoa! Y/N, keep your shirt on!" "But I need to get ready for bed." you protested as you continued to undress. Finally, you stood with only your underthings on, and an elf who was doing his best to cover his eyes. "Y/N, I'm going to leave now," he stated, and he did. But he had barely made it two steps down the hall outside your door when he heard a crash, followed by muffled yelling and then a soft thump. He opened your door with a loud bang and stopped short at the sight before him.

"What happened?" he spluttered as he saw you, on the ground with your nightclothes tangled around you and all your weapons scattered around the room. "I was tryin' to get my bedclothes on, but I couldn't figure out where my feet or head went, so I just wrapped them around myself to stay warm. Then I was stuck so I tried to reach my daggers to cut myself out, but I just tipped everything over." Chuckling at your stupidity, he picked you up and placed you on the bed, untangling you from the mess you had made. He laid out your clothes on top of you, and with gestures showed you where each body part went. He turned to leave again but was stopped by your voice. "Legolas," you mumbled, "Would you help me put this on?" "Oh, Y/N," he protested, "I don't that's very proper..." but he trailed off as the pleading look on your face became too much for him, and with a sigh, he began to help you get dressed. As he fastened the laces around your chest, you noticed a faint spot of red blooming on his pale cheeks. "Are you blushing?!" you exclaimed drunkenly. "No... no way, why would you think that?" stuttered the elf as he backed away from you. "You're blushing! HA!" And with a smirk, you whispered in his ear, "I want to make you blush like that whenever you see me." You turned, flopped onto the bed, and grabbed Legolas' hand, dragged him next to you. Your mood changed yet again, and you felt slightly remorseful for how crazy you were being and decided to just clear it all up for Legolas. "I guess what I'm trying to tell you is that I love you." He looked extremely startled, and that turned to shock as you pulled his face down to meet yours and kissed him. He pulled back, "Y/N, I don't want to do this now. You're drunk. It wouldn't be right." Disappointed, you rolled over and whispered, "Ok. Just, please stay?" He sighed but laid next to you on the bed. You fell asleep quickly, but he stayed awake, his head spinning.

You awoke the next morning with a splitting headache and no memories of the previous night. You remembered starting a drinking contest, and something to do with Legolas, but other than that your mind was blank. You rose and got dressed, noticing your clothes scattered on the floor of the small room. You gathered your things and went downstairs, where your headache was intensified by the assaulting noise of travelers having breakfast. You clapped your hands over your ears, wincing, and wound your way through the room to the table where your friends were sitting. Gandalf, Frodo, and Sam looked raring to go, as they hadn't partaken in much ale the night before. The rest were all in varying states of disarray, with Merry, Pippin, and Gimli looking the worst, and Boromir and Aragorn looking like they had headaches, but could manage. Legolas, meanwhile, seemed as ethereal as ever, except for the fact that he wouldn't even look at you. What did I do last night? you wondered as you scarfed down breakfast with your cloak wrapped around your head to block out the noise.

Tramping out of the inn after eating, you slung your pack over your shoulders and fell into line behind Aragorn. Even he seemed a little worse for wear after the amount of alcohol he had consumed. "What happened after I left last night?" he queried. "Honestly, I don't even remember you leaving," you answered truthfully. "All I know is that something involved Legolas, I wish I knew what." Aragorn looked rather excited for a second, and then his face changed to one of contemplation. You walked in peaceful silence for a while, and he eventually moved up the line to speak with Legolas, and you worried about what he might be doing. Sam fell back to keep you company. "Hey, Y/N. How are you feeling after last night?" he said with a concerned look on his face. You smiled down at the hobbit, touched by his inquiry, and responded, "I'm okay, thank you, Sam. I have a headache, but that was to be expected. I just wish I could remember what happened! I seem to remember something about Legolas, but that's it." As you spoke, you missed Sam's head perk up to listen more intently once you spoke Legolas' name. "Well, I think you should ask Legolas what happened," he suggested with a bit of a sly look on his face. "And then, maybe, you could tell the rest of us!" You pushed his shoulder playfully, "I don't know Sam. I guess I'll tell you if it's not too embarrassing." With that, you fell back into companionable silence with the hobbit.

Meanwhile, a ways ahead of you Aragorn was talking to Legolas, inquiring about last night's events. "So, what happened after Gimli and I went upstairs last night?" Aragorn was startled to see a small patch of pink appear on Legolas' cheeks after he had spoken. "Something happened! What? Did you tell her?" he kept prodding with an air of such excitement that Legolas finally caved and told him. "Well, she was very intoxicated so I brought her to her room. She insisted on me helping her get her nightclothes on, which was rather embarrassing." "I know more than that happened," observed Aragorn. "I'd like to know, maybe I can give you some advice." With a sigh, Legolas admitted, "Y/N might have kissed me." The "WHAT?!" that came out of Aragorn's mouth was probably heard in Mordor, and it was loud enough to make your headache come back with a vengeance. Legolas continued, "And she also told me she loved me." Aragorn was now beaming wider than Fangorn forest. "Did you say anything? What prompted this?" "I did not say anything, other than to tell her to stop kissing me because she was drunk and I did not want to take advantage." "So you left?!" "No, she asked me to stay, so I left early this morning." "This is wonderful, Legolas!" Aragorn exclaimed. "Now you can be with her," he encouraged. And then the realization hit him. "Oh, no. She doesn't remember anything from last night." "So that means we can just all go back to normal." Legolas wheedled. "No one has to tell her anything. Besides, she was drunk and had no idea what she was saying. She doesn't love me." "She loves you, Legolas. Just as you love her." Aragorn hoped that his friend would recognize the truth so that the two of you finally stopped feeling heartsick over the other.

As the sun was starting to sink behind the mountains behind, washing the sky a glorious combination of pink and orange, Boromir found a spot to camp and everyone shrugged off their packs and began setting up. As usual, you and Legolas were put on firewood duty together, something that usually didn't register in your brain but tonight you looked at Aragorn in suspicion as he waved you into the woods, the elf following.

You gathered logs and picked your way through the forest towards the campsite. As you approached, you heard voices, and you hid behind a tree as you heard Aragorn tell everyone to be quiet. "I have news," he announced in a whisper. "It pertains to a certain bet we all made." At that everyone's head snapped towards him and they listened raptly. Just then, Legolas came up beside you and you yanked him behind the tree next to yours, gesturing at him to stay quiet. His eyes widened as Aragorn's voice drifted over to you. "Legolas told me that last night, Y/N told him she loved him." This was met with groans from everyone who had bet for Legolas. Aragorn continued, saying something about how everyone owed him and Sam, but you missed it. At his first words, your head had jerked over to Legolas'. "Did I really say that?" you stammered. "Yes. And some other things that are best not repeated." You put your face in your hands. "I'm so terribly sorry, Legolas. I never meant to tell you, and I'm sorry for anything else I might have done. We can go back to normal, or I can just never talk to you, anything you want." You broke down in tears as you said this.

"Hey, Y/N." Legolas stepped over to you and took your chin in his hand, brushing the tears off your face with his thumb. "It's okay. Last night was a little crazy, but I've had time to think about it, and I think I know what to do." With that, he brushed your hair behind your ear, leaned in, and softly pressed his lips against yours. He pulled away, looking nervous. "Wait," you muttered, mind whirling over what this meant, "are you messing around?" "No, Y/N. I love you too" At this you reached up and pulled his head down, meeting his lips with yours. You tangled your hands through his hair as his came down from your face to rest on your waist. You backed up, intending to press your back against a tree, but tripped over a root and fell with a crash, Legolas on top of you. Your friends must have heard because they all came rushing around the tree, weapons drawn, to find a blushing elf and human lying on the forest floor in a rather compromising position. Legolas scrambled up, "It's not what it looks like, I promise!" "It's exactly what it looks like," you countered from the ground, laughing. "Now, someone help me up!" The elf bent down and scooped you into his arms, carrying you back to the campsite followed by a smirking Fellowship. "I guess you can't assign them to firewood anymore, eh, lad!" Gimli exclaimed to Aragorn. "Who knows what they might get up to!" Upon hearing this, you threw a well-aimed pinecone at him.

"What I really want to know now was who won the bet you had on us!" You exclaimed. "Wait, they were betting on us?" Legolas looked offended. "Weren't you paying attention," you questioned. "That's what they were talking about when Aragorn mentioned what happened last night!" "I was a little preoccupied with making sure the love of my life knew I loved her," he responded, making you blush. "Aragorn won thirty-five silver coins and I won thirty-two!" Sam announced. "And what did you win that for?" Legolas asked. "We were the only two that bet on Y/N confessing to her feelings first," Aragorn said. "I'm rather offended none of you thought I would have the courage, but it looks like those were some badly placed bets!" you directed these words at everyone who had bet against you. "Technically," Merry exclaimed, "you didn't!" "Yeah," Pippin continued, "it was a drunken confession! You can't control what you say when drunk!" At the accusation they hadn't won fairly, both Aragorn and Sam started arguing back, and the campsite quickly dissolved into chaos. You, pleased to have caused a little bit of trouble in return for all they had caused you, didn't care. You leaned back against Legolas with a sigh as he stroked your head, content to be in the arms of the one you loved.

Everything Tag: @itgetsatadhazy @boyruins @entishramblings

#legolas #legolas fanfic #legolas one shot #legolas one shots #legolas x reader #legolas x y/n #legolas x you #lotr fanfic #lotr fanfiction #legolas fic #legolas fanfiction #lord of the rings #legolas imagines #legolas imagine #the hobbit #jrr tolkien

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glitteryglitter · 3 years

Text

Fishing trip

𝙰𝙽: This was requested by @badrepwonder

I originally saved your ask in my drafts and then it disappeared, (Thanks a lot, Tumblr) so I'm sorry about that. I hope I did your request justice! I also included Annie, because she’s amazing.

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: None, I think! (If I missed anything, please tell me)

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: Finnick x Capitol! reader

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 1036

๑*˚🍓˚*๑

The weather was perfect, the water was warm, as was the air yet something felt off.

That day, Finnick and a few of his friends had decided to go fishing.

Y/n had decided to go along in the hopes of making some new friends.

Unfortunately, it was quite awkward.

They'd all assembled on a dock where the blue waves sparkled in the sunlight. It was picture-perfect but at the moment, y/n was finding it hard to focus on enjoying any of the scenery when everyone except Finnick seemed to be avoiding any type of conversation with her.

Y/n could really tell his friends were trying to be hospitable and kind, yet she couldn't seem to find a topic that would stick.

She'd ask a question and the group would talk for a few seconds, then, they'd go silent again.

This really wasn't how she'd hope to spend her afternoon at all, yet here she was.

As y/n tried her best to hold a conversation, her mind wandered.

Why weren't her topics sticking?

Was she saying something rude?

Was she simply annoying Finnick's friends?

If she was, they'd tell her, right?

She tried to force the ideas out of her head.

"So, what's your favorite thing to do in district 4?"

"Swimming is always a good idea" a boy with dark hair responded

"Yeah, I like it a lot too. The water's really warm here so it's nice all year-'round" a girl with red hair replied.

The silence returned.

Soon, all that could be heard was the sound of waves crashing against the wood of the dock, plus the occasional seagull from above.

Y/n would not give up so easily.

"It's warm here all year? that sounds lovely!"

"Yeah" the boy replied as he checked one of his nets for fish

this time, the red-haired girl did not respond, she merely nodded serenely.

Y/n tried once more.

"Have you done anything interesting today?" she chirped attempting to keep her ever-waining smile plastered on her face as best she could.

"I think so.." the girl whispered.

Y/n nodded expectantly hoping she'd elaborate.

Unfortunately, she did not.

Y/n truly did want to enjoy herself here, but it was nearly impossible.

It didn't help anything when Finnick after he'd caught a significant amount of fish and placed them in a basket. walked over to his friends and was pulled into the conversation easily as ever.

From her failed attempts at starting a conversation to the fact that she couldn't fish, Y/n had never felt more out of place.

Finnick paused for a second.

He noticed that his girlfriend, who was sitting dejectedly on the edge of the dock, really did look like she needed someone to talk to.

He assured himself that he'd check on her as soon as he could.

Unfortunately, the topic of knot-tying was extremely interesting to him and his attention eventually drifted back to his friends.

This went on for about 15 minutes until y/n couldn't take it anymore. She pulled Finnick aside.

she cast a worried glance at his friends, however, they didn't seem angry at her for needing to talk with Finnick. That was a good sign, however small it may have been.

"Fin, I need your help. I don't think your friends like me. Was it something I said? because if it was, I'd really like to know."

"Darling, don't worry. they may seem a little prickly at first, but the truth is, they're a bit intimidated by you. They've heard of the capitol, and know it as a place where the people are official and proper. They want to make a good impression. They've been practicing their good behavior for a while now, but I don't think it's going as planned is it?"Finnick smiled

Y/n giggled. "Not quite"

"Don't worry, they'll come around. I'm sure of it. Just give them some time.

So, let's go make you some friends."

Finnick pulled her towards his group of friends who were chatting animatedly.

At that moment though, he had a thought.

"Y/n, I have an idea; You should learn to fish with a trident!"

"Okay. I'll give it a try" Today was, Y/n decided, about trying new things.

After several tries and a few close calls which involved y/n almost falling off the dock and in the ocean, she’d finally done it.

"Fin! I did it! I caught a fish!"

Finnick rushed over and indeed, his girlfriend had caught a silver and blue fish.

He threw his arms around y/n

"I knew you could! Congratulations, darling."

"Look at what my girlfriend did! She caught a fish! She's a natural! " Finnick jogged over to where his friends were.

"Also, she really would like to get to know you, she's just a bit nervous"

They smiled at the thought.

Maybe the girl from wasn't as strict on rules as they thought, she did seem to be very friendly.

"Y/n's from the capitol, Are you sure she wants to talk with us?" the dark-haired boy asked.

Finnick let out an exasperated sigh.

"Yes, I'm sure you'll absolutely love her. Just give her a chance"

His friends looked at one another.

The red-haired girl nodded. "Alright, let's go!" I'm sure we'll get along.

๑*˚🍓˚*๑

Several hours later, the entire group was positively exhausted.

They had decided to lay down on the dock and watched the sunset.

That had been a while ago and at this point, only a small bit of light remained on the horizon.

They'd had a very successful day of fishing and had packaged their fish in several baskets to take home and store.

However, their outing given them much more than a few fish.

It had given them friends as well.

"I hope we can do this again" the red-haired girl y/n had come to know as Annie said.

"Definitely. I had a lot of fun!" Y/n replied.

She was so thankful to have made friends and was beginning to finally feel at home in district 4.

With Finnick beside her and her new friends near, Y/n felt truly happy.

For the first time in a while, she felt as though she had everything she could ever want and more and for that, she was extremely grateful.

๑*˚🍓˚*๑

#finnick odair #finnick imagine #finnick x reader #THG #thg x reader #The Hunger Games #the hunger games imagine

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wolvesandpetals · 3 years

Text

Playing House: Part 2: Loki x Sylvie Fanfiction (Rated: T, Humor/Romance).

Part 1 here. Masterlist of Sylki fanfictions here. This chapter mostly fills in the gaps and acts as a backstory, providing some answers. Sylki hijinks in next chapter!

---

Sylvie wakes up the next morning with the sunrays lighting up the room through the windows. It's so different from the life she has always known- hiding in the shadows, endlessly on the run.

She has spent her entire life waking up in unfamiliar places. Yet, this feels different. This feels familiar, almost mundane. Even though some unknown dangerous entity has trapped them here, it feels... safe.

[[MORE]]

And she swears it has nothing to do with the fact that his arm is wrapped around her waist, and how it makes her feel protected. Nothing at all.

This is what her dreams were made of- a home, a person to wake up next to every day, a sense of serenity instead of the ever present death and despair. And now she has it all.

She shifts a little, earning groans of protest from him, and it makes her smile. The warmth radiating from his body makes her long to stay like this forever. Slowly and reluctantly, she pulls his arm off her body and places it on his chest, her smile widening as she watches him sleep. "Loki?"

He groans. "Please, mother. Can you awaken Thor first?"

She touches his shoulder gently. "Loki, it's morning."

"No, mother, princes do not wake up so early", he mumbles in his sleep.

She just cannot bring herself to force him awake. Not when he looks so happy.

---

His morning starts at 10 am. He picks up the newspaper that the delivery boy left on the porch. Apparently, it's 2021, there's a new president, and a new iPhone, whatever that is.

She makes breakfast. It's just milk and cereals, but it's the first meal they have both had at a kitchen table with someone akin to a loved one in a long, long time, and it feels good.

He picks up his phone, hoping to learn how to properly operate it, and goes through his contacts list. There are a lot of people that he does not remember meeting, mixed with people that he never wishes to meet again, but one name in particular makes him pause. "Thor's number is programmed in my phone."

Sylvie looks up in confusion, clueless why this is significant. "Alright?"

"I didn't know he even had a number." Loki explains. Maybe it's recent? Maybe that is the reason he did not know, and it's not because they have been at odds lately?

"Maybe it's not Thor?" Sylvie suggests. It is a different reality, after all. Everything may be just an illusion.

Loki takes in a deep breath, bracing himself for what he knows he has to do. There is only one way to find out.

---

There are exactly four rings before he hears the familiar voice on the other side of the line. "Hello, brother."

"Hello, brother." He clears his throat, trying to push down the emotions swelling in his chest. In reality, he last saw Thor the day he was captured by the TVA. Yet, it feels like a lifetime ago. "How have you been?"

"I've been well", Thor answers. There's noisy chatter in the background, like a restaurant or a bar, and what sounds like old 60s music. "How are you?"

"I am well too." Loki lies. "It is so good to speak to you. Umm, how are the Avengers?"

There's a brief pause on the other end. "The Avengers? You are enquiring about my friends? Are you not going to ask about mother and father?"

Loki forgets how to breathe. "M-mother and father?"

"Yes?" Loki can picture Thor rolling his eyes as he speaks. "Our mother and father? The people who have loved and adored us our entire lives? Rings a bell?"

The last time Loki met his parents, they were furious and disappointed with him for his betrayal of Asgard. Then New York happened, and he is sure those emotions were heightened.

The rest of it, he has only watched on the projector screen at the TVA and not experienced himself, but he heard his parents express how much he means to them, right before watching them die. After spending the last few months angry at them, and craving power that makes him superior to Thor, he realised in that one moment that none of it mattered. All he wanted was the life he once knew, the life back at Asgard, the one he can never return to.

It's a truly cunning being that has trapped him in a reality where these cruel events may not have happened. Trap a man in hell, and he will burn it to the ground, trying to find his way out. Trap him in his heaven, and he is forever imprisoned. This is an eternal prison indeed, because why would he ever want to leave?

"Mother and father?" Loki repeats, still in disbelief, and a little optimistic. "They are not dead?"

"What kind of sick question is that, brother?" There's the familiar irritation in Thor's voice. "Why would you even ask that?"

"I'm... I'm sorry. I just feel a little... disoriented."

"Is everything alright with you?" Thor pauses, hesitating before he asks the next question. "Are you having marital troubles? Is Sylvie alright?"

"You know Sylvie?"

"Of course I know your wife." There's genuine concern now. "You are scaring me, brother. Is this a trick?"

"No, no." Loki shakes his head for emphasis, even though Thor cannot see it. "Not a trick, brother. I am just happy to hear your voice."

The line goes dead. There's a flash of thunder, a loud bang in the backyard, and then a thunderous voice. "Loki?"

Loki rushes to the backyard. Sylvie follows him, ready to fight the intruder, if necessary. She finds a blonde man in 60s clothes, wielding the hammer that she knows too well.

Sylvie goes pale. She hasn't seen her brother in ages, and this isn't her brother. She has never met this man, never played with him, never turned him into a toad, and definitely never missed him. Yet, her heart aches at the sight of this stranger who is another version of him.

"Oh, hi, Sylvie." Thor smiles warmly at her, before it turns apologetic. He tugs at an ear. "Sorry about your flowerpots." He glances at the mess he has made- again- vowing to land on the street next time. He spots Loki standing in the background and gives him a slight nod. "Brother."

"Brother." Loki takes a step forward, resisting the urge to rush to his brother and embrace him tightly. Not long back, they were on opposite sides of the battle. All he wanted back then was to be equal to Thor.

All he wants now is to be brothers again.

"Thor?" Sylvie says his name carefully, like it's a word that can break this spell. "Is that really you?"

Thor feels the panic coming back. "Alright, what is the matter with you two? Are you on drugs?"

"Me? Drugs?" Loki scoffs indignantly. "You are the one who looks like you just spent a week at Woodstock."

Thor takes a brief moment to glance down at his outfit- courtesy of StarJerk- before returning his undivided attention to the couple that is acting extremely strange.

"Prove that you are not on drugs." He places the hammer on the ground, next to Loki's feet. "Here."

"You want me to lift Mjojonir?" Loki stares in confusion. "Are you insulting me?"

"You can't lift it, can you?"

His irritation grows. "Of course I can't lift it. I've never been able to lift it."

"Loki... You... We've... Do you not remember the time we..." Thor stares at him, dumbfounded. "Do you really not remember that you too can wield Mjojonir?" Then another thought occurs to him, one which seems more likely. "Wait, is this another elaborate scheme of yours to steal Mjojonir?"

Sylvie takes in a deep breath, pushing down all the complicated emotions that have found their way into the spotlight since she met the mirror image of her brother. Right now, she is trapped in a reality that is not of her choosing, by an entity that is not known to her, and she cannot allow herself to get lost in the illusion. The man in front of her is merely an opportunity, one which she has to seize. "Alright, then. Come in already, brother." She tilts her head towards the door, gesturing at the brothers to come inside.

"Brother?" Loki mumbles under his breath.

Sylvie shrugs. "Well, he is your brother, and I am your wife, right?"

---

Thor walks through the kitchen and into the living room like he knows the place extremely well. He sits down on the couch- in the spot that Loki already considers his own spot, Loki notes with annoyance - and examines a cushion. "I see you replaced these after the mishap with the gun."

Loki and Sylvie exchange a look. They have no idea what he is talking about, but if they know themselves at all, they were definitely the ones responsible for the incident.

"Here, have a drink." Sylvie offers him a coffee mug filled with whiskey on the rocks. When Thor reaches for it, she covers his hand with hers.

Loki feels that ever familiar feeling that he has felt anytime something he wanted has gone to Thor instead. It's not like Sylvie is his actual wife, and he has any right to be jealous. But the mere sight of Sylvie's hand covering Thor's is a source of extreme irritation for him. "What are you doing?"

Sylvie places the finger of her free hand on her lips, asking him to be quiet. She returns her attention to Thor. There's a flash of green, travelling from her hand, to Thor's, and rising up his arm, to his heart. "Oh, the gun. That was something. Remember the day we met?"

Loki finally realizes what is happening. "Are you enchanting my brother?" He whispers.

Sylvie rolls her eyes, whispering back at him. "Obviously."

"You can't enchant my brother!" He hisses. "He's my brother!"

"And you've done worse to him." She points out. "We need to know what he knows."

Loki sighs, finally giving in semi-reluctantly.

"You know how we met." Thor answers, confused, and oblivious to the conversation between his brother and his wife.

"I know. But let's reminisce." Sylvie keeps her tone calm and cheerful. "Tell me about the good old times."

"It wasn't good." Thor reminds her. "You broke Jane's telescope."

"Right. Good ol' Jane." She fakes a laugh, before turning to Loki. "Jane?"

"The human he's dating." He supplies.

"Human?"

He gives her a sad nod.

"And what is my name, my full name?"

"Sylvie Lushton, from Broxton, Oklahoma. You took my brother's name only to escape the internet fame under yours. Clever." It is clear from the way he speaks that he thinks highly of her.

Loki and Sylvie exchange another look. A few days back, this is when he would have asked about Mjojonir, what the deal is with him apparently being able to wield it. But now, he can think of only one thing, because there is only one thing that actually matters. "Ask him about my parents."

"And your parents? Where are they now?"

"At New Asgard, of course." Thor tells her like it's obvious. "The same place they were the last time you visited."

Sylvie lets go of his hands abruptly. The thought that she probably has a set of parents at Oklahoma, and a version of Odin and Frigga at New Asgard is too overwhelming. She leans back against the sofa, trying to catch her breath.

Thor blinks, trying to adjust to the fact that he is back at Sylvie and Loki's living room instead of his bed chamber at Asgard. "Did you just-?" Realizing what happened, he stares at Sylvie in shock. "All the years, and you have never once tried to enchant me, not even when Loki begged you. You have always been a loyal friend to me." His voice grows resolute, like that of a man on a mission. "Tell me this instant what is going on with you two. I demand answers."

"I'm sorry." Sylvie tells him sincerely. She knows now that this man is not the one responsible for the illusion. His memories are real, at least to him. He is not a danger to them

Loki smiles sadly. "You wouldn't believe us even if we told you."

Thor crosses his arms in front of his chest and leans back against the cushions, making it clear that he is not going anywhere until he is satisfied. "I travel through space with a talking racoon and a grunting hormonal tree. Try me."

"Okay. We are from a different reality. Two different realities actually." Loki begins his Loki lesson. "I was supposed to be immortalized in the hearts of Asgardians after meeting a heroic end in glorious battle with Thanos. Sylvie was taken from Asgard when she was merely a child. There is this evil organization called the TVA. Time variance authority. We weren't supposed to exist, yet we existed. So these pathetic, low-life bureaucrats arrested us. We were trying to find the man in charge. We were so close. Then we found ourselves here abruptly."

Thor just stares at them, utterly confused.

"You're rubbish at this." Sylvie comments, before taking over the storytelling duty. "Loki and I are not who you think we are. We are from a different reality. Your memories are not real to us. They never happened to us. I have never met you. And we are most definitely not married."

"Ouch." Loki places a heart over his chest to express his hurt. Sylvie grins at him.

Thor tries his best to process this wild tale. "Let me get this straight. You're telling me that my brother, my only brother-"

"Adopted." Loki interrupts with the quip. He can't stop himself.

"- My annoying brother", Thor continues, "is supposed to be dead? And you? You're from Asgard?"

"I'm him, actually." Sylve explains. "Well, not him, another version of him, the superior one. I'm Sylvie Laufeydottir." She half smiles at Thor.

Thor stares at Sylvie, then at Loki, then back at Sylvie again. "Are you sure you're not under the influence of any narcotics?"

"Yes!" Loki reaffirms, more exasperated by the minute.

"Are you sure I'm not under the influence of any narcotics?" Thor wonders.

"Not really." Loki admits.

"But I assure you, what we are saying is the truth." Sylvie looks him in the eyes, hoping he can see the honesty in hers. "This life, this house, we have only known it for a day."

Thor is quiet for a long while. When he speaks again, his voice is more sympathetic, and less skeptical. "Would you like to know more? About your past, I mean? The one I know?"

"Of course." Sylvie answers immediately. Part of it is to gather information so that they can decide how to get out.

There's another part of her that really wants to know what a happy life looks like for her. She can't resist the temptation to sneak a peak down the rabbit hole.

Thor takes a sip from the mug. The ice has melted by now, but the drink is cold enough. Taking in a deep breath, he begins. "I met you six years back at London. You were filming something for YouTube, and you accidentally broke Jane's telescope. You were gracious enough to offer to buy her a new one. But she wanted nothing to do with you." He adds, as an afterthought, to lessen the blow. "It's nothing personal, Jane just doesn't really like influencers. You gave me your number, in case she changed her mind."

"A while later, Loki stole my jacket. Well, borrowed, in his words, but I haven't seen it since that day, so you be the judge. Where is it, by the way?"

Loki rolls his eyes. "Isn't it clear that I do not know?"

"Right." Thor nods. All of this is still bizzare to him, but he's willing to be open to the possibility. "Anyways, Loki found the little card with your number in the pocket, and he called you up. You hung up on him within a minute. That's your version of the story, anyway. Loki swears you talked to him before you hung up."

"And then my brother, ever so proud of himself, took that personally. He called you back to tell you off." He puts on his best Loki imitation. "I'm Loki, the prince of Asgard, the God of mischief, and you must treat me with respect, or I will use my hairgel to slick your hair back too. Bla bla bla." He grins when he notices Loki glaring at him, and his grin grows wider at the next part. He looks at Sylvie with a smile that conveys how proud he is of her. "You hung up on him again."

"He Googled you up and showed up at your doorstep the next week, ready to turn your clothes into snakes and show you your place. But the moment you opened the door, my brother was putty in your hands. Seriously, he wouldn't shut up about you for weeks."

"Instead of snakes, he gave you flowers. He serenaded you, actually. What was the song, brother? When she sleeps- no, wait." Thor hums the tune, trying to remember the words. "That's it! When she sings, she sings come home." He laughs, like he always does when he imagines Loki acting like a lovestruck fool. "I can't believe you didn't get a restraining order on him. He kept sending you flowers every day. Until you finally decided to go out with him. You guys hit it off right away. Your parents liked him. I don't know why." This earns him another glare from Loki and results in another grin. "Our parents liked you. It was all surprisingly easy."

"Loki proposed during the Convergence. He was so nervous about it. It was fun to watch him squirm."

"You had a June wedding. You moved here after a few months. And you've been happily married since."

It's almost impossible for either of them to imagine a world where they have sworn to spend eternity with another person.

But it's not impossible at all, not anymore, not when they have found each other. Sylvie tries not to dwell on this for long.

Another thought occupies her instead. If she is not an Asgardian princess in this reality... "How do I have my powers?"

Thor shrugs. "How does anyone have their powers? How do the Avengers have their powers?"

They still do not know who did this, but now they have an idea about what was done to them.

If he's being honest with himself, a reality where he and Sylvie both exist together, where his parents are alive, and Thor doesn't hate him, is not the worst thing in the world. It is almost like a scene from his dreams, depicting his heart's desires.

"Thank you." Sylvie sincerely tells Thor. "Now we need to find a way out."

#loki x sylvie #fanfiction #loki disney+#sylki #sylvie x loki #pro sylki #loki #fanfic #sylki fanfic

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