#mr door: you made that genre rule up its not real

[pathetic-gamer]

I am of the firm belief that Alan absolutely did not have to be trapped for as long as he was or driven insane trying to meet the inscrutable demands of the Dark Place, he's just Like that. literally everyone who tries to help him is like "brother in Christ it does not have to be this difficult" but he's soooo busy being soso sad and tortured.

[aokoaoi]

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗢𝗡𝗘: 𝗉𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌.

(𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾) 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐'𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖽𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗈𝗋 𝖪𝗂𝗋𝗄𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗈 𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗈𝗋'𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗋 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗋 𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌. 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗏𝗂𝖽𝗎𝖺𝗅𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌.

ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁱᵇˡⁱⁿᵍ'ˢ ᵃᵍᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃᵍᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰʳᵉᵉ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ʸᵉᵃʳˢ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵉᵈᵐᵘⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ᵒʳ ᵐᶜ ᵃʳᵉ ᵗʰⁱʳᵗᵉᵉⁿ

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗻𝗼𝗻𝗲

Fantasy was always something you were fascinated on about. In every books you read, fantasy was always involved. It was your favorite genre to read, even after reading the other genres again and again. Your family, including your grandfather had all said you were a brilliant child with one hell of an imagination. And you agreed.

Reading was always your hobby ever since you were a child. Most of your friends from befo𝗋𝖾 and where you used to live thought it was boring and uninteresting, but you thought otherwise. You'd rather sit in the living room reading all the new novels you've brought than play outside if you were to be real.

But now, you were far from your parents. All because of the war. They've sent you to live with your grandfather, Digory Kirke. It wasn't the first time you've went to your grandfather's place, but it wasn't often that you get to visit anyway.

It was quite lonely inside the big mansion, but it didn't really bother you since you preferred to be alone anyway. And your mother often found it bothering that you preferred it that way. She never really understood why you always wanted to be alone, she always wondered ever since you were little.

You only found the book entertaining rather than the friends you magically befriended, and sometimes she felt bad when you coldly reject their offer to play with them.

Although she didn't really force you to he more extroverted. She was content with the way you were, even if you saw books as your friends. its ridiculous, I know.

Though, you've gotten news from Mrs. Macready that there would be siblings coming along in the house today. Were you excited? Not really. Were you curious about them? Slightly. You just hoped they weren't trouble, and ridiculously loud.

You were reading by a window, sitting on the usual window seat you always read on. You were yet to finish a novel series you started a few days ago, and you being a child you wanted to challenge yourself, wanted to finish it under a week or two.

You were often disturbed away from the book on your lap, and found yourself looking out the window, waiting for Mrs. Macready's return. Until a certain sound of a whip slapping against thick skin followed by stern usherings caught your attention.

You looked out of the window, seeing Mrs. Macready and four other children of different ages all staring at the same house you were in.

You wondered if they can see you right now.

You shrugged to yourself, turning back to the book on your lap and waited until they arrived inside the house, thinking of ways you could possibly introduce yourself. Or just wait until they notice you and decide to let them introduce themselves instead.

"Professor Kirke is not accustomed to having children in the house." You heard Mrs. Macready sternly talk to the new company as you made your way to the entrance door, the small heels of your shoes tapping against the wooden floor while the strict woman continued to talk.

"And as such, there are a few rules we need to follow." She walked up the stairs and immediately spun the heel of her shoes the second she got to the last step of the stair, giving the kids in front of her a stern look.

"There will be no shoutin'," She turned to her side and walked up a few more stairs, "Or runnin'. No improper use of of the dumbwaiter." She continued to list out the rules as you noticed a pretty tall brunette reach her hand out the the statue up front, and for some reason Mrs. Macready noticed even when facing away.

She hurriedly looked behind her, eyes wide at the beautiful brunette, "No touchin' of the historical artifacts!" She harshly scolded the brunette, and the latter reeled back in surprise.

You notice the strict woman's eyes darting to your form, noticing your presence before she turned around to remind of one last rule. "And above all, there shall be no disturbin' of the professor." She ended, looking at the four behind her. She turned to you, giving you a curt nod, gesturing you to introduce yourselves to the four.

"I'll give you a minute, I'm sure you know where to find me." She whispered to you before she left, her shoes clacking on the floor while you nervously stood there like an anxious idiot until you felt a small tug on your skirt.

You looked down to where the tug was, and noticed a little girl with short lengthed brunette hair looking up at you with a wide smile, her eyes bright of wonder. "You must be (name)! Mrs. Macready mentioned earlier that there was another girl around our age living with the professor." She says, enthusiastically smiling as she put her hand down back to her side while you nodded at her words.

"My name's Lucy, Lucy Pevensie! Very nice to meet you." She put her hand out for a handshake, and you hesitantly did the same, shaking her hand firmly. She turned around and looked at her siblings expectantly, waiting for their turn to introduce themselves.

A boy with blonde hair stepped forward, also putting his hand out for you to shake as he had a small smile on his face. "Peter Pevensie," he shook your hand and then gestured to the rest of the siblings next to him. "This is Susan and Edmund." He says as the girl who you assumed as Susan gave him a look.

"We could've done it ourselves though." Edmund muttered, although you saw how Peter slightly nudge him in warning. They all looked at you, like they were expecting you to say something next.

You cleared your throat as you averted your eyes from the bright smiling young girl next to you, trying to introduce yourself, "(Name) Willows, it's lovely to meet you four." You softly smiled, slightly tilting your head to the side curtly as the little brunette girl giggled at you.

"Now, I'd like to sit and chat for awhile but we'd better find Mrs. Macready before she scolds us." You told the four, slowly walking backwards as you saw the older pretty brunette girl nod at your words, her mind taking her back to the loud yell that still surprised her when she was about to touch the statue.

"She's awfully strict, isn't she?" Lucy softly whispered next to you, gently holding your hand as you began leading the four siblings to where you assumed Mrs. Macready was waiting. You chuckled at the little girls word's, although you secretly agreed. The woman was awfully strict, although sometimes she was slightly nice to you because you were the professor's granddaughter. Although that didn't stop her from being strict.

"She is. Although, I've gotten quite used to her constantly reminding me of the rules when I do something that apparently upsets her. Just simply follow the rules and she won't be yelling at you every once in a while." You shrugged, and the short haired brunette frowned at that, now tightly holding your hand.

"But no running? How are we supposed to play properly is we weren't allowed to run?" She asks, looking up at you. You hummed, thinking. "Uhm.. Maybe just try playing games that didn't involve running..?" You said, unsure of how to reply to the little girl.

"Oh, but that's boring." She sighed, looking down at her shoes. The three siblings behind you both watched in amusement as their beloved young sister continued to enthusiastically talk to you about herself, completely ignoring her siblings like they weren't even behind her.

You we're now in your room next to Pevensie's room, organizing your books on the bookshelf since you had nothing else to do at night other than sleep. You were replacing the books you brought with you when you visited when you were younger with the new novels you recently  bought all while trying not to listen in to the Pevensie's conversation.

It seems though as if Lucy had some trouble being away from home.

You we're feeling sorry until a specific blonde boy much older than you let out a rather loud scold that could've possibly been heard all around the floor. Though you doubted that, you just liked being exaggerated.

You sighed to yourself, already missing the comforting silence at night. You placed the last book on the shelf before you slipped onto your bed, hearing Peter and Susan try to comfort their little sister.

You looked at the candle on your desk, watching the flames dance in the dark. Your night would always end like this. You would often find yourself looking at the candles bright flame until you finally slipped out of your consciousness, dreaming about nothing but dark emptiness.

You wondered why you had less fantasy like dreams if you liked it so much and you questioned as to why it would always be nothing but darkness. It bored you. But yet again, if you did have a dream you'd end up forgetting the second you wake up anyway.

You heard shuffles from the next room until it finally went quiet, and you sighed, finally getting the peace you've always waited for.

You turned to your side, looking out of the window and on the dark starry night. You yawned, and yawned again, small tears prickling your eyes at the same time. You glanced at the big clock in the room, pursing your lips at the time.

It was awfully later than the time you always sleep, perhaps it was just a teensy trouble of sleeping. You turned to your side again, shutting your eyes in an attempt to sleep until you finally drifted off of your consciousness, and yet again, no dream.

You sat on the chair that the dark haired boy that you learned was actually around your age was under, flipping through pages and humming a song while Peter and Susan played a rather boring game in front of you. You didn't want to join since you were already occupied with something far more interesting than what they we're reading, and rather watched and listen them bustle about the game.

"Gastrovascular." Susan read, "Come on, Peter. Gastrovascular." She repeated, and Peter humorously looked at his sister. "Is it Latin?" He questioned, and the pretty brunette only replied with a simple yes.

Edmund appeared from under the chair, and you looked at him incredulously, wonder why in the world was he looking at from under there. "Is it Latin for 'worst game ever invented.'?" He smugly fires back, as his elder brother grinned. You frowned, feeling bad for Susan as she slammed her book shut.

You looked at the two boys, "That's not very nice." You softly closed your book, and Edmund looked at you from where he sat.

"Why can't you answer instead then? You look smart." Peter says, and Susan looked at you expectantly. You gave the blonde a dumb look, "Peter, I may read books but I am in no where near as academically smart." You say, waving your book in front of you as the dark haired boy snickered at his brother.

"We can play hide and seek." Lucy suggests, walking towards where you four sat and rested her arms on the armrest where Peter decided to sit.

"But we're already having so much fun." The eldest says, grinning specifically at someone. Lucy pouted, giving her brother pleading eyes that you'd actually give in to. "Come on, Peter. Pretty please?" She pleaded as Peter sighed and started counting.

The boy on the ground next to you groaned in annoyance, standing up. He looked at you when you didn't stand up, confused. "Well, what are you waiting for?" He questioned, and you made shooing motions at him.

"I'll stay here." You shooed the dark haired boy, and he only shrugged before following after his younger sister and taking her hiding spot.

You listened to the loud footsteps from hallways and hallways caused by Lucy trying to find a hiding spot, and to Peter counting from one hundred. You didn't know why he was counting so far. Everytime you play hide and seek with your friends, you only give them over 30 seconds.

"92, 93, 94, 95.."

You peacefully flipped through another page as Peter finally finished his counting, and out of nowhere Lucy decided to reveal herself by echoing her voice loud enough for the blonde to hear.

You watched as Peter marched to the sound, ignoring the fact you didn't even bother hiding yourself, and out of confusion, you followed as well. Why on earth would Lucy reveal herself like that? Was she already tired of the game? Did she want to surrender?

You saw Edmund and Lucy by the time you got to where the sound was, and the dark haired male looked awfully disappointed when Peter arrived, looking at his sister disapprovingly.

"You know, I'm not so sure you two have quite got the idea of this game." Peter says, and you looked at Lucy in confusion.

"Weren't you wondering where I was?" She questioned, looking at the people infront of her incredulously.

"Pretty sure that's the main point of the game, Lucy." You awkwardly pointed out, gripping on your book nervously at the tension as Edmund nodded, clearly about to say the same thing as you.

Susan came running from where you four stood, looking slightly better than how Edmund and Lucy were looking right now as hiders. "Does that mean I win?" She asks, looking at you four.

"I don't think Lucy wants to play anymore.." Peter says, and the brunette female tilted her head, confused.

"But I've been gone for hours..." The little Pevensie trails off, and you blinked, thinking of the most unrealistic things you can imagine.

"Do you mind telling me what actually happened, Lucy?" You told the girl, although it didn't really come off as a question.

[phant0mgh0ulx]

The Servant

If u dont like this kind of fanfiction, you are under 18 or a minor pls dont read it and block me but dont report this/ dont copy my work!!

•Pairing: fem!reader x Hongjoong, fem!reader x Wooyoung

•Genre: smut, angst, prince au, prince!Hongjoong, dom!hongjoong, sub!reader, servant!Wooyoung, sub!reader

•Warnings: jealousy, angst, smut! degradation, dirty talk/cursing, unprotected sex, oral sex [m receiving/f receiving], breeding kink(?), handcuffs, chocking, petnames {doll, slut, whore}, cum play, overstimulation

•Words: 1.4k

•Summary: Hongjoong and y/n have been a lucky couple and ruled the kingdom together. Hongjoong is a very kind and charmant prince and y/n is a pretty and beautiful princess. They knew each other since they were kids and got married at the age of 21 and 17 and had a wonderful life together until the day their servant Jung Wooyoung came to the castle. He started to grow feelings for y/n. He planed something bad to ruin the love story between Hongjoong and y/n to get along with her...

It was normal day in the kingdom, Hongjoong sat in his office doing some paperwork for the next audience with the emperor from the neighbor kingdom. You walked down the hallway to get your afternoon tea and your servant Wooyoung was following you, „do you know when the prince finishes work for today?“ u asked while looking behind to him and he shook his head „i dont know miss Kim but i think it´ll take two hours“ you nooded with your head and stepped in the dining room. The servant took the chair out for you to sit down, served the tea with some bisquits and sat down next to you. Wooyoung looked at you all the time with a smile on his face but in his head he had dirty thoughts. „Miss Kim what have u planned for today since it´s your day off?“ he asked. You took a bite from your cake and looked at him, „hm i think i´m going to read a book later and just wait for Mr. Kim to finish his work“ „that sounds really great“ he replied. After you finished your tea, you stood up and walked upstairs to your bedroom which you were sharing with your husband and layed down on your kingsized bed.

While u were reading and Hongjoong were in a negotiation, Wooyoung cleaned up the room and got downstairs in the basement. There was one room nobody knew that it existed apart from wooyoung. It was a small room with a little window and a table inside, it kinda looked like a torture chamber. On the table were lots of papers with the servants plan written on. There were also some fake letters that Wooyoung has made to trick Hongjoong so he have to leave you. Today was the day...Wooyoung got everything ready and it seemed so real. „Hah that dumb prince will never know that its fake...and when he is really gone, i have y/n all for me...“ he laughed devilish. He packed all papers in a bag and walked upstairs, to do some household things.

Meanwhile you fell asleep. Two hours were gone and Hongjoong finally finished work. He said goodbye to the emperor and sat down „puh that was really stressful, i wonder what y/n is doing“. He took some papers, put them in the drawer and stood up. The prince walked out of his office to your bedroom and opened the door slowly. Quietly he sneaked into the room and saw you sleeping in the bed. He smiled. „awww my little girl fell asleep“ he whispered, walked to the bed and sat down on it next to you. You heared him and opend your eyes slowly, „joongie...your finally here, i waited the whole day.“ You got up and gave him a little peck on his lips. He smiled, „was my little princess so tired hm?“, you nooded and hugged him. „Now i`m here for you okay?“ Hongjoong layed himself down to cuddle with you and you showed him the book you were reading, talked about your days and what happend in the audience until suddenly Wooyoung knocked on the door. „Who is it?“ the prince asked and the servant came in. „I´m sorry to bother you two but it´s really important. Mr. Kim please come down in your office, three letters have arrived.“ You looked at Hongjoong in worry and he got up, gave you a kiss on the forehead. „please wait here i´ll come back soon.“ he said and headed down with Wooyong. Unsure if you should follow your husband, you layed there alone in your bed waiting for him again. As they arrived in the office, where Wooyung placed the three letters on Hongjoong´s deks, the prince opend them and read them. His face showed some kind of irritation while reading them but after some time he calmed down. „what? i have to travel to London for this? but why..and why alone?“ he said as he starred at his servant. „what is this? why do the prince from england want a war with us?“He run with the letters upstairs to y/n and showed them to her. „I have to leave you...for some time. The prince from england wants to start a war with us and i have to fix this...no matter what it costs for me.“ he said while looking at you with tears in his eyes, „I have to protect you and our kingdom!“

Timeskip

It was a really hard and painful goodbye for both of you for an indefinite period of time. Three weeks were already gone since Hongjoong started his journey to London and the castle seemed so empty without your husband, but atleast you had your severant Wooyoung, who cheers you up all day. After some time you and your servant got really close and everything was perfect until this one night.

It was a bit stormy outside, you layed in your bed ready to go to sleep as suddenly you heard someone knocking on your bedroom door. You just got up to walk to the door and opend it. Your servant stood infront of you and asked if he can come in for talking a bit and you nooded. He stepped in your bedroom and sat down with you on your bed. „what is it servant? It´s really late so please keep it short“. He looked down on you, „do you know how beautiful you look tonight?“ he said while he smirked. You saw his smirk and distanced yourself from him but he suddelny took your wrist and closed the gab between you two. Wooyoung looked right into your eyes and you felt his hot breath against your lips. „i´ve waited so long for this...now it´s finally my time“ he hissed. His lips brushed yours while he pushed you down into your matress, you felt his hard erection against your leg and you got goose bumps. You were so shocked in this moment and your body was so weak but it didn´t felt right. „Gosh...you look so hot under me, pinned to the matress, helpless and little.“ He placed himself between your legs and you tried to push him back to escape but one of your hand was already cuffed to the headboard of your bed. „Wooyoung let me go! Please let me go! I have a husband!“ you screamed. „Oh look my doll is already begging me, go ahead y/n...beg for your life“ he commanded while he took a vibrator out of his pocket. As soon as you saw the vibrator you got quiet and your body started to shake. Wooyoung looked at you with his eyes full of lust as his hand which was at your thigh reached your panties. Your eyes widened at his touch „Wooyoung please stop!“. He ignored you and started to tease you with his fingers that were circling at your clothed clit. You clenched at the pleasure he was sending through your body and you tried to stay quiet. You could tell by his face that he was a bit angry about you trying to be quiet but he didn´t say anything about it. A little wet spot has formed on your panties because of the pleasure.“Hm do you like it? already so wet for me and i`m your servant...what a slut you are, clenching for another man than your husband and letting me do things with you, just like a little toy“ he smirked again and you closed your eyes. „W-wooyoung“ Euphoria running down your veins but in your head you knew that it wasn't right to like it. The next thing what you heard was the door from your bedroom that slammed open. It was your husband Hongjoong standing there gazing at you too. „ Hongjoong??“ you looked with big eyes at him and Wooyoung stopped. „What the hell are you doing there?“...

To be continued

Hey everyone, this is my first fanfic so please be gentle with me. I hope you like it and let me know if you have some tips for me :). There will be a second part cuz it got to long so I splitted it.😊

[dreamescapeswriting]

Full Moon ~ JJK [M] [Request]

➳➳➳Word count: 6.1K

➳➳➳Genre: Smut, AU, fantasy, tiny microscopic angst,

➳➳➳Pairing: Werewolf!Jungkook x Reader

➳➳➳A/N: I changed it a lot as I had just recently read a fic in the same way you asked me to write it and I didn't want to get into trouble by having something similar. That being said I fell totally in love with this and now I'm obsessed with werewolf protective jungkook like wtf. This is a genre I haven't tried before though and I know you said Hybrid so I hope this counts? I know people sometimes say that you still have your tail and things like that but it's not something I would be comfortable with. Hope this is okay. Love you

➳➳➳Warnings: Mentions blood, biting, smut (obviously), breeding.

"There's been another attack!" Someone screamed as they walked over to you and your friend, you were walking through the college campus you turned to look and see Mieko one of your closest friends rushing over and panting out of breath.

"Another attack?" You questioned as you pulled your bag off your shoulder and dug around inside for a bottle of water that you always carried around with you, you were the mum of the friend group so everyone knew they could come to you when they were in dire need or something. A snack, a drink, band-aid, first aid kit, pocket knife and the occasional cheat sheet to a test that you'd stolen from your history teacher when he wasn't paying attention to you. 

"Thanks," She began downing the liquid before leaning against your shoulder for some kind of support, she whipped out her phone scrolling through her Facebook timeline to show you what she was talking about and you rolled your eyes, 

"You know, not everything you read on Facebook is-Oh." You stopped yourself once you saw that it was a real report from a real news station, you began reading through what the article was talking about, apparently, the attack was one of 20 in the last two days. All of the attacker's victims lived to talk about what happened to them, talking about how a man would lore them to an old parked car or they would feel like they were being watched all night before waking up the next day in pain from beatings remembering nothing from the attack itself. It was nothing if not strange to you that so many people had been attacked without recollection of the actual attack happening.

"They're calling a curfew for everyone in the university, we have to be back at our dorms before 9 pm or it'll result in expulsion." She had finally caught her breath and was walking without leaning against you so you handed her phone back to her. 

"Well, sucks to be me because I have to help Mr SeokJin with Art History grading and then I have night classes in the library with English teacher Mr Kim Namjoon." You told them pulling the bag back on over your shoulder and looking down at your schedule for the day, 

"Why do you have to be so good at everything? God, you're exactly like Jungkook." Mieko mumbled rolling her eyes at you, they always mentioned this boy. Jungkook. But you'd never seen him before, probably because you both had super tight compact schedules that neither of you liked to stray from though apparently, you had one class together not that you would know if he was there because you had no idea what he looked like.

"You're always going on about him, why don't you just ask him out?" You teased poking Mieko in the side but she scoffed at you, 

"He's an idiot, cold to everyone he meets and just shoves everyone off unless you're in his close friendship circle." You made a fake pitty face at her and she shoved you against the door of the entranceway to the Art building, you were running late for class and if you were late one more time that week Mr Seokjin would have you fired as his PA and Jimin, the teacher's pet would gladly take your place.

"I'm late! I'll see you back at the dorms later, save me some dumplings!" You called as you ran off back down the hall not paying attention to where you were walking and rushing straight into someone's arms, you could have sworn they growled at you so you looked up to see who it was when your eyes landed on another pair that were staring you down. 

"Sorry, Jungkook! She wasn't looking where she was going, she's a clutz!" You shot Mieko a glare and she ran off in the opposite direction of her class, probably skipping to go and find someone else to torture. 

"I am sorry, I'm just late-"

"You should watch where you're walking then instead of barging into everyone with your back!" He snapped making you flinch a little, you nodded gripping the strap of your bag tightly and going to walk the rest of the way to class. Jungkook stared you down as he watched you walking down the hall, trying to see where you were going when he heard Taehyung calling his name. He shook his head and walking over to his friend who was rubbing his stomach, 

"I'm starving, what time are we hunting tonight?" He grumbled at the older alpha who was staring at him, Jungkook hated that he was the leader of the pack that they had especially since Taehyung was older than him and so were the rest of the boys with them but it just fell down to him since he was born a wolf, it was his birthright according to his grandfather.  

"After curfew and I have the perfect bait for us tonight." He smirked darkling putting his arm around the Omega walking him down through the halls to go and find the rest of his pack. 

"Are you sure you wouldn't like a ride home Y/n?" Mr Kim Namjoon asked as you walked out of the library together and into the hallway of the History building, the whole place was deserted except for a couple of guards on shift and tutors who were heading home for the day. 

"It's fine, I'm just a three-minute walk away sir," Namjoon said goodbye to you and walked in the direction of the car park. You pulled the strap of your bag over your shoulder and took out your phone to text Mieko to let her know you were on your way when you heard something moving behind you. You slowed down something everyone screamed at people for in horror movies but you were curious about what it was, then images of the news article flashed through your head and you clutched onto your bag tightly picking up the pace to get to your dorm. 

A twig snapped and your head span around to see something blur in your version darting into the nearby woods near the college, you should have taken the ride. You regretted it instantly and you couldn't type on your phone because your hands were shaking so much,

"Shit." You whispered as you came towards the alleyway you needed to go down to get to your dorm. You prayed whoever it was following you would just leave you alone as you walked down the alley but whoever it was wasn't giving up, they proceed to follow you until you were deep inside the alley where no one could see you if they looked inside. 

You felt a hand clutch onto your wrist before a loud growl sounded through the air echoing off the walls and making your legs shake. You were dragged onto the floor and you tried to beat whoever or whatever it was off your body but they were ragging you about from side to side. You opened your eyes to see bright red ones glaring back at you, attached to the eyes was a huge dog with black fur that was growling heavily and biting into your side repeatedly, you began screaming as loudly as you could hoping someone would hear you and try to rescue you but no one was coming. You started hitting the beast with your fists, bag and phone anything to get it off you but it wasn't budging, you could feel a burning sensation in your side where it had its jaws around you. You jammed the beast in the eye with your elbow and it let out a yelp, letting you go just enough so you could scramble off down the alley and towards your dorms where you banged loudly for Mieko to come and get you.

"Look, I'm telling you I don't remember anything." You said to the policeman who was interviewing you, you were sat up in the University's hospital wing after a nurse had patched you up and called them to report a crime had happened. 

"You don't remember anything?" You shook your head and the man grumbled something before leaving you alone, you laid back down against the white sheets and stared up at the ceiling. What were you going to tell people? That a giant dog came out of nowhere and decided to use you as a chew toy? They'd lock you up and throw away the key, at least now you knew why everyone who was attacked before you said they forgot. You wished you'd forgotten, you had the image of the giant red eyes burnt into the back of your head, giving you a headache whenever you thought about them and the way he moved you around. It was bigger than the average dog and known wolves in the area, it was as if it was something straight from a fantasy book but fantasy books weren't real...were they?

Jungkook walked along the hallways with Taehyung and Jimin either side of them, giant smirks across their faces walking around as if they ruled the place. 

"Did you hear about Y/n?" Jungkook heard someone mutter behind him, thanks to him being a wolf he had different abilities in and out of his shape. The heightened hearing was just one of many and he used it wisely, 

"What happened?" A concerned voice rang out, 

"Mieko found her bleeding out on the curb of their dorm, whimpering about something attacking her." Jungkook looked at the Omega's to see if they'd heard anything but they were either not bothered or hadn't heard what the girls were whispering to one another. 

"Stay here." He mumbled leaning against some lockers so he could keep an ear on the conversation, he wanted to know what had happened and why you had survived much like all the other people someone had been attacking at night.

"She's in the hospital wing, they're going to keep her overnight until she's stable again. Mieko said it happened right in the alley near their dorm." Jungkook took off in a sprint leaving Jimin and Taehyung alone and confused in the halls, Jungkook hated the fact that he couldn't use his speed ability out of wolf form but he was fast enough without all four legs he knew where your dorm was, he'd heard Mieko talk about it enough in the classes they shared together.

Hissing as you sat up you looked around the hospital room for something to entertain yourself with, your phone was missing along with your laptop so you were awaiting the college to send you a replacement until a new one could be funded to you.

"Miss Y/n?" You looked over at the door to see the nurse who had stitched you together was standing there, 

"A guest." You nodded and she moved out of the way letting Mr Kim Namjoon into the room, he walked over to you and sighed. 

"I'm so sorry Y/n if I'd have insisted I take you home this never would have happened." He grumbled looking at you with pitty full eyes he felt terrible for not insisting you get into the car with him. 

"It's not your fault sir," He nodded and held up the roses that he'd brought along with him, he knew how dreadful the hospital in the university could be and he wanted to liven the place up for you.

"I'll put these in here and go, I have a class." Just as he was reaching for the door handle the door swung open and Jungkook stood there, your eyes widened as he stared at you from the doorway. 

"Ah I see you have another visitor, I'll see you next week back in my class." You looked down not wanting to make awkward eye contact with Jungkook but if you had looked up you would have seen the two of them having a stare off while Namjoon left the room. Neither of them blinking until the door was shut and the other was out of sight and out of mind.

"How are you feeling?" You stared at Jungkook once again as he stood beside your bed, your eyes locked onto the bag he was carrying and you realised it was yours. 

"Where did you-"

"I went to the alley you were attacked in, your phone is a little broken." He handed you the red iPhone and you groaned looking at the smashed up screen, you put it down on the bedside table reaching for some water when Jungkook noticed the bandage around your waist.

"Why didn't you tell the police the truth?" You stared at him and he poured you a glass of water, handing it to you and watching as you carefully took it from his hands. 

"I told them everything I knew." He shook his head at you, 

"No you didn't, you told them you don't remember anything and trust me no one forgets something like that you went through." You stared at him with a blank expression, he pulled a chair up to your bed and checked the watch on his wrist. 

"You can pretend all you want but we don't have all day." You looked down at the cup of water in your hand trying not to think on the fiery eyes that stared at you, your eyes began to tear up and Jungkook knew what you were feeling. He'd seen the same thing with Jimin and Taehyung but he'd never had a female before,

"It was huge," You started, you had no idea why but there was something about Jungkook that made you feel as though you could trust him with everything and he wouldn't think you were crazy. 

"It had these giant red eyes and then it-It's fur it was black and matted." Jungkook knew instantly who and what had attacked you the night before and he knew there was nothing he could do to prevent what was going to happen to you that night.

" I can't explain it all here, it's not safe but we need to get you out of this hospital bed and to my place as soon as possible." You scoffed in his direction and put the cup of water down, 

"It's that how you get all the girls Jungkook?" He was shocked at how you were speaking to him at first, normally girls would swoon at his feet and obey whatever he told them and he put that down to the wolf charm but not you. You didn't seem to care about it but he figured it was because you would be changing soon, 

"Listen to me, did that bite burn when that thing did what it did?" You thought about it for a couple of seconds before nodding, he leant forward and moved the bandage away from where the bite should have been but it was completely gone. 

"That's-"

"Impossible? Yes, it's called healing and I'll tell you more if you come with me." Your mind was telling you that you couldn't trust him or anyone else but there was something about him that was luring you in, your heart and soul both screaming at you that this was right and this was what you were supposed to do. 

"How do I know you didn't do this to me..." 

"Do I look like a giant wolf to you?" You shook your head at him but remembered all of the old folk stories, 

"Wolves shift in the day." He smirked at you for knowing your stuff, you weren't as stupid as he first thought you were. 

"If it was me I wouldn't have let you go so you could become like us...No one deserves this life, it's hell." He sat you up in the bed and handed you one of the University hoodies from the shelf and then some sweatpants. 

"Like us?" He sighed promising to explain everything once he got you to a safer place, 

"Am I going to die?" He felt his heartbreak as you stared up at him with tearful eyes, he shook his head at you. 

"Not if I have anything to do with it." 

If someone had told you that you would have been changed up in a basement by the end of that day you never would have believed them,

"So what happens when the moon is up?" You questioned watching as Jungkook walked around the basement to make sure the chains were secure, there was one on each of your ankles and then one on each of your wrists keeping you in place. 

"You change...Into one of us." He answered looking over at the basement door as it opened, Jimin walked down the stairs to give Jungkook a case of water and he spotted you. 

"Y/n was the one they attacked last night?" You stared at him as he placed the water down on the floor, he dropped to his knees and walked closer to you taking a sniff of your hair and pulling back. 

"She's not mine." He smirked looking over at Jungkook who was looking away from the scene in front of you, 

"What? You haven't checked?"

"Checked? Checked what?" Your voice came out panicked and Jimin tutted shaking his head and turning to look at you, 

"You could be his mate or Taehyung's mate who knows, everything happens for a reason Jungkook." With that, he left the basement slamming the door behind him, 

"Mate? As in..." Jungkook nodded and you bit down on your lip ignoring the tension that was now filling the air, Jungkook didn't need to check he'd known since you'd walked into him yesterday that you were his mate. He should have walked you home last night to make sure nothing happened to you, he should have been there to protect this from ever happening but now here you were getting ready to change into what he was. 

"How come you're not in chains again?" You questioned trying to get rid of the awkwardness that was hanging in the air, 

"We can control out shifting, we can change whenever we want but you're new and it's going to be a long time before you can learn to control anything happening inside of you while you're in your wolf form." He walked over to you and looked at the watch, it was almost time. He attached another chain around your neck and you stared at him through your eyelashes. 

"Is it going to hurt?" He stayed silent wanting to spare you of the gory details, it was something he'd hated when he first transformed.

"That's a yes." You whispered leaning back against the cold concrete wall behind you,

"I'll change as soon as you do, we can communicate through thoughts so just pay attention to me." 

Jungkook watched as you screamed out in anguish, another crack sounded through the air as your arm broke in several places the chains clanging against the floor. Your back arched away from the ground and you let out a shriek in pain as it snapped in one place only to do it again in several other places, your whole body was on fire and you could feel every muscle shaking and bending as something took over inside of you. Then within seconds, the pain was gone and you were staring at Jungkook at a new angle, 

"You're okay, it's over." You stared at him as he shook his body once falling down onto all fours and becoming a huge wolf creature in front of you, you tugged at the chains with your paw to get out but it wasn't going to budge. Jungkook had used the same ones wit Jimin and Taehyung and they were triple your size.

"I'm hungry..." 

"You will be, Jimin and Taehyung will be back soon. Try to suppress the thoughts with something else." You thought back on all the assignments that were due in next week and you heard Jungkook chuckle from inside of your head, 

"You're thinking about homework?" 

"Always, it's important."

"You're worse than me." Jungkook went on to explain that that was why he was taking all the extra classes, the extra work kept his mind off of wanting to rip everyone's head off and eat them. While it also kept it from having a social life outside of the pack, he never wanted anyone else to go through this. 

"Dinner is served." A deer's body was dropped down on the floor in front of you by a brown-haired wolf with black eyes, 

"That one's Tae, he's shy but he'll get used to you." Taehyung left and changed back into his human form upstairs complaining to Jimin that you weren't his mate either. 

"Do I just-"

"Let your instincts take over. Once you've fed it'll be easier to control yourself." You threw yourself down biting and tearing into the skin of the animal and he was right, it was as if your body knew what to do without you telling it to. 

After that night of changing things changed at home, you couldn't live with Mieko anymore and started to shut her out Jungkook had convinced you it was for the best if you stayed away from her. You didn't want to accidentally kill her or change her into what you were, you moved into the house Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook were living in and started to only interact with them at school. That was a month ago and the full moon was coming up, Jungkoo still hadn't told you what he knew you were to him but he knew it was going to be hard to hide this time around it was already hard enough as it was to keep his hands off you and to stop himself from jumping on anyone that came near you. The alpha instincts around his mate were always stronger than anything else inside of him and it was hard to control but you didn't know he was your mate and he didn't want to tell you.

"Y/n? You ready?" Jimin asked from the doorway watching to see if you were following him,

"Be right there." You called back to him sliding everything into your bag, it was getting late and the moon would be coming up soon so Jungkook wanted you back at the house as soon as possible, it was going to be your first change without the chains on.

"Miss Y/l/n?" You looked over your shoulder to see Mr Kim Namjoon watching you and Jimin closely, 

"May I speak with you a second?" You flung the bag over your shoulder and he walked over to your desk, leaning against it and staring down at you. 

"You ought to be careful with who you associate yourself with." His hands traced along yours as it rested against your chest, you snapped it away from him feeling uneasy about the touch.

"Jimin and his friendship group they're not exactly the best of their kind," His eyes flashed a bright red colour and you stumbled backwards knocking a chair down in the process, Jimin was by your side within seconds and he was staring at Namjoon who was staring back at him. 

"The pathetic little alpha sends an Omega to collect his cum rag, that's funny." Namjoon chuckled deeply without another word Jimin pulled you out of the classroom both of you rushing in silence to get out to Taehyung's car, 

"Cum rag? Who the fuck does he think he is?!" You let out a growl by accident and your eyes were starting to illuminate a little as you got angrier, 

"Y/n," Taehyung warned reminding you you were inside of a car and no the basement where it was safe to change, but the anger inside of you kept growing inside of you as you thought of him insulting Jungkook like that. 

"What happened?!" Jungkook yelled as you were walked into the basement by Jimin and Taehyung, you sat against the floor growling into your hands at the mere thought of Namjoon. 

"I think he changed her as well, his eyes Jungkook...They were red and he seemed to know that you were her mate." Your ears picked up on that word again and you watched as Jungkook tensed up. 

"I'll fix it, go and hunt for something to eat you haven't had anything all week." You'd managed to feed your cravings by eating a copious amount of beef burgers and steaks when you didn't have to change.

"Mate?" Jungkook turned to look at you and nodded, he knew the time was coming where he would have to explain it all to you but he would rather go off and find Namjoon first, kill him for doing what he did to you. 

"Namjoon did this to you, he's the reason you're in this mess." You looked up to see his eyes were filled with tears and you walked over to him taking his face in your hands to make him stare at you, 

"Jungkook I'm fine, look at me." He stared at you, the urge to kiss you was growing stronger and he could tell you wanted him to by the way your legs squeezed together and the way you kept licking your bottom lip. 

"You're perfect." He mumbled before crashing his lips against yours, his hands gripped onto the back of your neck pulling you closer to him there was something that changed inside of you and it was like you were feral, you never wanted him to stop kissing you ever again but your body was craving more from him. His lips moved down to your neck and you moaned out in pleasure at the feeling of him sucking along the exposed skin,

"Fuck, we can't." He pushed you away and you whimpered looking at him with hurt in your eyes, 

"Why not?" He looked at you and then at the watch realising you hadn't even changed yet and then checked his watch again maybe it was too fast there was no way you had control over your changing abilities yet. 

"Jungkook kiss me." You whispered to him bringing him closer to you, he took one sniff of your scent and almost fell to his knees ready to take you but it was too dangerous, you were in heat and the moon was full anything could happen. You weren't stable,

"I need you," You whined out in his ear and he grabbed you once more kissing you roughly and slamming you against the wall behind you, you shrieked happily as his hands worked their way up and down your body tripping the shirt from your chest.

"My favourite shirt," You fake pouted against his lip, 

"Shut up," He mumbled against your lips biting down on your bottom lip and dragging it with his teeth, everything inside of him knew this was wrong and it could fuck everything up but he needed you and you needed him. 

"I need more." You whimpered and he knew what you wanted, what you both wanted but once you started there was no stopping. 

"Oh god, I want you to...I want to fuck you until you're full up pup but-" You kissed him once again to shut him up and he relaxed a little more letting your lips relaxing his body, you pushed him back and dropped to your knees in front of him. 

"I want what I want," You whispered to him undoing his jeans and pulling them down his legs, he nervously looked up at the basement door and prayed Jimin and Taehyung had left to hunt and weren't going to come down and find this scene unfolding in front of them. 

"Shit." He grunted as you took him into his mouth, there were no words to describe how he was feeling the way your tongue worked around his member, licking and sucking every bit of him you could but what you couldn't you used your hands to massage, he was letting out whimpers as his head fell back. 

"Just like that, shit." He grunted his hand going into your hair and biting his tongue resisting the urge to slam his cock down your throat, he knew he had to be gentle with you he could smell it on you that you'd never done something like this before. 

"Lay down baby." You took him from your mouth with a pop and he smirked ripping your jeans off your body and throwing them somewhere within the basement, he didn't care all he cared about was you. Tasting you and having you all to himself, he licked a stripe up your folds and you moaned at the new sensation, all of this was new to you but it felt right, 

"Jungkook." You whined out not wanting to be teased, you wanted him to mount you and not stop until you were screaming out his name, 

"I know baby but once I've started I won't be able to stop until I'm done." You nodded at him as a sign that you understood and it was what you wanted and he kissed you, slowly easing himself into you as you whimpered out. You could feel him stretching you out from the very first push and your nails dug into his back dragging down and you were positive if you didn't have super healing powers it would scar him. 

"Fuck you're so tight." He grunted as he finally submerged himself all the way inside of you in the missionary position, not something that was common among your kind, holding himself in place until you were ready for him to start moving. You gave him a nod and he kissed your forehead promising you he would be as gentle as possible with you but once you felt you were used to his small and light thrusts you begged him to go faster, 

"F-Faster Kookie, I can take it." You whispered in his ear but he shook his head, 

"I can't, you'll break." You whimpered as continued his tiny thrusts, you knew there was something to make him move but you didn't want to risk him stopping altogether. 

"N-Namjoon called me your cum rag, said you were a 'pathetic alpha'." You managed to say through grunts his thrusting stopped and he stared down at you, he knew what you were trying to do and it was working. 

"Fuck, you're going to kill me." He grunted pulling out of you only to slam back into you at a rough pace making your back arch back as he finally hit the spot you'd been needing him in. 

"Right there." You whimpered within a matter of seconds already feeling yourself coming to your first orgasm, there was a pit in your stomach that was starting to grow with every thrust,

"Don't stop." You stuttered out as his thrusts became faster, he smirked watching you come undone underneath him he'd never imagined for a second you would be like this with him. He thought you would be a shy and fragile girl like you were before but this was something else. 

"I think- Ugh fuck- I think I'm close." You panted out and he could smell that you were, you began clenching around him and he grunted picking up his pace a little more so he could get you to the edge, he bit down on your neck drawing blood and smirking as you let out yelps of pleasure. 

"Cum for me pup," You yelped out as you felt your orgasm rush through your body sending shock waves throughout you, your legs were shaking and your hands were shaking as they latched onto Jungkook's hair tugging a little as he continued his vigorous thrusts into you not stopping just because you'd come around him. You screamed out his name as he continued to thrust into you, the pain from just finishing was slowly starting to be subsidised by pleasure once again as you felt the belt-tightening once more, 

"J-Junkookie." You whimpered and he smirked down at you kissing your lips and pulling back, he pulled out of you and flipped you over onto all fours, he couldn't take the human position anymore, he needed you on all fours so he could fuck you properly like the dogs you were inside. 

"Shit." You hiccuped as he thrust into you hitting spots that were left untouched before, you gripped onto the ground as his hips pushed into yours, one of his hands gripping onto your hips and digging in so deep it was drawing blood. 

"I'm close Y/n." He grunted as he continued to fuck you in the way it felt natural to him, you whimpered in agreement letting him know you were too by clenching around him and he smirked, 

"C-Cum inside me, please." You whined out underneath him arching your back as you felt your release coming nearer and nearer, he faltered for a second before picking up his pace again not wanting to stop, hearing you tell him what you wanted sent him closer to his edge.

"What do you want little pup?" He asked coaxing you into telling him again you let out a whimper as you were going to have to say it again, 

"Finish inside me, I need you inside of me. Everything, just-" You couldn't finish because he pulled your hair so he could kiss you as he fucked into you, 

"There's no going back if I do this Y/n." He warned as he felt himself getting closer, he kissed your neck lovingly wanting nothing more than to finish inside of you and claim you as his own but he had to make sure you were sure first. 

"Make me yours," You whimpered and he pulled out once again bringing you back to the human position you had started in, he wanted to look at you as he claimed you and made you his. He wanted this to be romantic and not as though he was stealing something away from you, 

"S-Shit I think I might." He grunted throughout his sentence staring down into your eyes as you stared back up into his smirking at him as he brought you closer for your second and final orgasm of the night. 

"You might what?" You giggled up at him and it was like music to his ears, he felt his balls throb as he almost finished at the sound of your giggle. 

"Shit, d-do that again." He begged, watching as you giggled beneath him once more his thrusts picked up once more as he felt his pleasure coming to an end,

"I'm g-gonna cum, cum for me okay?" You nodded at him and he smirked kissing your lips softly pulling away to make eye contact with you as you begged him to fill you up, it's what you needed and what your body was begging for. 

"S-Shit." He grunted hitting your spot in just the right way that you clenched around him tighter than before, like a vice and he stuttered his thrusts spurting into you but continuing to fuck into you so you wouldn't miss a single drop. 

"Shit I think I love you." He grunted out as he continued to thrust into you when you didn't say anything back he felt his heartbreak a little but he continued to thrust.

He stayed in place above you as you both came down from your high, once he knew it was safe for him to pull out he did and dropped down next to you smirking as he looked at you. 

"That was-"

"Yeah," You finished looking at him with a smile on your face, you rolled over and laid your head down against his chest.

"I love you too by the way." You whispered looking up at him as you rested your chin on his chest to make eye contact with him.

"Can you guys warn us next time?! Fuck!" You heard Jimin yell from upstairs you looked over at the door and back at Jungkook, 

"Why didn't I change?" Jungkook looked at you and took in a deep breath, 

"I think you have better control over your instincts than I first thought." You hummed and bit down on your lip, 

"I want you to do that again." You whispered to him biting down on your lip as you stared up at him, 

"Trust me, you're not going to want to stop now you've had one taste." He chuckled knowing how hard it was to keep yourself from stopping once you'd had the first taste of an orgasm like that. 

"But let's go upstairs since you're not changing, there are much comfier places then the basement floor." He whispered in your ear, roughly biting down on it with a fang and smirking as you whimpered out to him.

tagline: 

@yoongisdumplingcheeks @kpopfanfictionhoes @snowy-meowl @lynnthevirgo @jooniesdarlingdimples @lyoongx @callingmyangel @fan-ati--c​ @mitzwinchester​ @btsiguess-kpop​ @rjsmochii​ 

[bangtanloverboys]

off limits (ii) // myg & knj

summary - it’s been a while since yoongi showed namjoon what happens when he touches what doesn’t belong to him; but now you want to play with him

pairing - yoongi x male hybrid!reader, namjoon x male hybrid!reader, yoongi x namjoon

genre - smut; mafia au, hybrid au

word count - 2.3k

warning - dom yoongi, sub namjoon, sub reader, voyeurism, hand job, blowjob/mouth fucking, edging, cum eating, daddy kink, sir kink, referenced/implied orgy

author’s note - part 2, there will be no part 3. enjoy <3

part i

With a satisfied moan, you let yourself fall onto the bed; completely satiated from your activities with Yoongi. Eyes half lidded, you watched your owner slip from your shared bed to the bathroom. You let your eyes close, catching your breath as you waited for his return. You knew he was back when you felt the gentle caress of a washcloth along your member and between your legs, you sighed as he cleaned your sore and spent body. When he finished, he got in bed next to you, laying flat on his back. You could feel him staring at you, sensing your racing thoughts. 

“What are you thinking about, kitten?” He asked, ready to give you anything you desired. 

“I’m not thinking about anything,” you responded, you were thinking about something though. You just didn’t know how to tell him without Yoongi getting overly possessive. 

“I know your thinking face. Tell me, kitten, what is it you want?”

You purse your lips, your mind going back to merely a few weeks ago to the night at the club. The night Yoongi played with you infront of one of his lower ranking associates, a punishment for him for touching you. Something Yoongi was only allowed to do. But that night, Namjoon wasn’t allowed to touch himself or come at all. You felt a bit sorry for him, you wanted him to maybe have a little reward after following Yoongi’s orders so nicely afterwards. “I’m thinking about Namjoonie.” 

Yoongi sucked in a breath, that was something he did not expect you to say. “What about him?”

“I wanna play with him.”

“Absolutely not.” Yoongi turned his head away from you, not wanting to continue the conversation. 

“But daddy,” you whined, turning over to lay on his chest, forcing him to look up at you, “we play with Jiminie and Taehyungie all the time!” To which was true, there were more than enough times where Yoongi would allow you to invite your two friends to join them for an evening. Yoongi knew you loved messing around with other people, what was so different about Namjoon?

“Because kitten, Jiminie and Taehyungie don’t touch you. You touch them.” Yoongi had very specific rules about you being touched, wanting to be the only one that ever brings you pleasure. But you loved playing with others, and while the sight of you having people fall apart under you made him insane, he needed control. To compromise, he allowed you to touch them. Never allowing them to touch you. 

You frowned, but only for a moment before a brilliant idea came to mind. “What if you played with him?”

“Excuse me?”

“You play with him, I watch, and he doesn’t touch me.” You explained, nonchalantly tracing circles over his chest while you waited for his answer. 

“Why do you want this exactly, kitten?” Yoongi raised a brow at you.

You merely bit your lip and leaned forward, to purr in his ear, “Because I wanna see how pretty he looks with your hand wrapped around his cock.” You pulled back, looking at him with your big eyes.

Tongue between his teeth, Yoongi took in your begging face. Your lower lip stuck out as you pouted. He knew, and you knew, he could never ever say no to you. With a roll of his eyes, he agreed. 

“Yay!! Thank you, daddy!” You squealed, pressing kisses over his face and towards his neck. Pausing your kisses, you took a deep inhale of his pine scent. A smile on your face, you rubbed your nose along the expanse of his neck, scenting him. You knew that you had no real competition for Yoongi’s attention, he had eyes for you and you alone, but it was still nice to mark him as yours; letting another hybrid know he was yours and yours alone. 

“Hmm you’re welcome, kitten.” He sighed as you placed a final kiss under his jaw. “Tomorrow. You’ll get your pay time tomorrow.” 

To which, Yoongi kept his promise, summoning a very anxious Namjoon to his personal estate. To say he was scared out of his wits was an understatement, he was terrified. Since that night, Namjoon has followed through with Mr. Min’s order: no touching. He even pushed it a little further than not touching you, but barely even looking at you whenever he knew you were around. 

He felt like his heart was going to pound out of his chest as he rang the bell to Yoongi’s manor. The heavy front door was pulled open by one of the bodyguards that was outside the room that night. . . did he know? He must’ve known as he looked at him with a knowing smirk as he opened the door further. “Boss is expecting you. Follow me.” He said as Namjoon stepped into the vast entry hall.

He followed the bodyguard, climbing up a large staircase. His mind was racing as he was led deeper and deeper into Yoongi’s home. What did he want? Did he change his mind about letting him off the hook? Was he going to die tonight?

Namjoon was cut off from his thoughts by running into the bodyguard, who had stopped in front of a door that could only have the man he feared most behind it. “He’s waiting for you inside.” Was all the man said before he turned back into the maze of hallways from where they came from. 

The bodyguard no longer in sight, Namjoon faced the door in front of him. Taking a deep breath, he knocked twice on the wood. From inside, he could hear a faint “Come in.” He opened the door, to reveal Yoongi in front of him, dressed smartly as he was before, leaning against his desk. Off to Namjoon’s right, sat you on a bed; dressed in only a button up shirt, that he can only assume is Yoongi’s. Immediately he diverts his eyes away from your scantily clad body, staring right at Mr. Min’s shoes.

“You summoned me, sir?” He hears you let out a small giggle as he addresses your owner.

“Yes, I did.” Yoongi pushed himself off his desk, taking a few steps to stand in front of him, sliding his hands into his pockets. “My little kitten here wants me to play with you.”

The words that he hears have Namjoon choking on his own spit. Stunned, he actually looks at you and fully takes in your expression. Your eyes were dark as you devoured him with your stare.

“If you don’t want to, this is your chance to leave and we will never speak of this again” Yoongi continues, his tone deadly serious. Still looking at you, he sees you stick your lower lip out in a pout. The same pout that got him into trouble with dancing with you in the first place. He looked back to Yoongi, who raised a brow at him questioningly. Waiting for his answer. 

“I, uh, okay-” He sputtered out, his face feeling like it was on fire. 

“Kitten,” Yoongi looked over to you, who was silently celebrating that he agreed. “Explain to him the rules.”

“Daddy touches you, you can’t touch me. The safeword is sugar. You call him sir, only I can call him daddy.” You recite, like you’ve done this a million times before. 

“And what do you want him to call you, kitten?” Yoongi asks as he circles around Namjoon, studying him carefully. 

“You can call me kitty,” you say with a flick of your tail. “Got it?”

Soon as Namjoon gave a nod of his head, he felt a hand begin to palm him over his trousers. “Keep your eyes on him, little boy.” Yoongi growls as he gives his hardening cock a squeeze. Swallowing, he does as Yoongi orders. Watching you as your hand travels to your own erection, wrapping your hands around it as Yoongi gets him so hard, it’s straining against his pants. “Get those off,” Yoongi commands, pulling his hand away. With the loss of Yoongi’s touch, he wants to whine, but he does as he’s told, scrambling to pull his pants down. His member pops out as he strips down, he’s painfully hard under your hungry gaze. Yoongi’s hand is on him again, smearing his pre-cum over his tip. Namjoon lets out a low moan as he continues to watch you pump yourself, using him to get off. “You like that, little boy? You like the fact my kitten is getting off to you? Me touching your needy cock?” Yoongi’s breath hot against his neck as he quickened his pace.

Namjoon nodded frantically, his face construed with pleasure. 

“Use your words, boy.” Yoongi snarls.

“Yes, sir. I like that-that kitty is getting off to you- fuck, touching me,” Namjoon cried as you started stroking yourself faster, letting out a loud mewl hine at his confession. The noise is like music to his ears. A loud moan emits from Namjoon, he’s close, and Yoongi can tell as his cock twitches in his hand. He felt his knees go weak, he was gonna come. “I-” Instantly, Yoongi ripped his hand away from his aching cock. He let out cry, his building orgasm quickly leaving him. 

“Get on your fucking knees,” Yoongi sneered, unbuckling his belt. Gulping, he did as he was told. Kneeling before his boss, he looks up as he fists his cock in front of his face. “Open.” His mouth opens on its own, and before he knows it, his mouth is stuff full of Yoongi’s length. Behind him, Namjoon can hear you whimper, slick noises getting louder from you. Both hands on either side of his head, his eyes started to water as the tip of his cock hit the back of his throat. Slowly, Yoogi started to shallowly thrust in and out of his mouth. “Fuck,” he groaned above him as Namjoon tried his best to meet his pace, blinking back tears as his tried his damndest not to choke. 

Your sobs got louder as you continued to fuck your hand, watching Yoongi fuck Namjoon’s mouth; loving the way his cock disappeared between his pretty lips. Your eyes flickered up to Yoongi, his eyes meeting yours. He looks down to the floor, to the spot next to Namjoon. A silent order. Getting up from the bed, you made your way to kneel next to Namjoon, who has become hyper aware of your presence. 

With a grunt, Yoongi pulled himself from his mouth, his hand fervently pumping his cock. He watched as he let out a low sigh as you opened up your mouth, sticking your tongue out just a bit. The sight pushed Yoongi over the edge, as a strangled groan fell from his lips as he came all over your open mouth. Namjoon was hypnotized as you licked up all the cum that fell past your lips. You met Namjoon’s eyes when you felt his stare, giving him a wink before getting back to your feet to whisper something into Yoongi’s ear. 

“Kitten,” he warns you. But you show him that face again, big eyes and pouty lips. He lets in a sharp inhale, “fine.” With a small cheer, you press a kiss under his jaw. “You, on that chair.” Namjoon followed the order, seating himself in the leather chair. “Hands on the arms. No touching.”

He watched with wide eyes as you got on your knees before him. You placed your hands on his knees, red from being kneeling so long. “Wh-what's going on, uh, -sir?” He quickly tagged on the title.

“I wanna suck you off,” you purred, taking his aching cock in your hands. A shiver went down Namjoon’s spine as you kitten-licked his tip. He gripped the arms of the chair tightly, his knuckles going white. As you took him into your mouth, he let out a whimper. Your hands went around the base of his dick, pumping what you couldn’t fit into your mouth. Namjoon was lost in the feeling of your mouth; you were so warm and wet around him. He wanted nothing more than to buck his hips, fuck your mouth the way Yoongi did to him moments ago, but he knew better. He couldn’t touch you, it wouldn’t take an idiot to know that probably fell into the same category as touching.

Your hand slipped a bit lower, fondling his balls ever so lightly. His head fell back, tears pricking the edges of his eyes. He couldn’t look at you, the noises and sensation was enough to make him come; but it was too soon. He wanted a little more time to enjoy this, enjoy your mouth around him. 

“Look at him, little boy. Look at how well my kitten is taking you.” Yoongi ordered, his voice far off from where Namjoon was. 

“N-No, can’t!” He felt a tear slip down his cheek as you started sucking faster, lewd slurping noises filling the room. 

“I said, look at him Namjoon!” He barked, he stepped forward, grabbing the back of his head and forcing him to look down at you. He met your eyes and you were looking innocently up at him, your mouth full of his cock. He felt his gut tighten, he was ready. He was gonna pump your mouth so full of cum-

Once more, his orgasm is taken from him; your lips are pulled from his cock with a sick pop. With a loud cry, he watches as Yoongi tugs you by the nape of the neck, dragging you towards the bed. Namjoon is silent as he's told to leave. He’s stuck to the chair, frozen at what just happened. “Playtime is over, get out.” It’s Namjoon’s turn for Yoongi to grab him by the end of his shirt and yank him out of the door. Tripping over his pants that are still pooled at his ankles, he falls to the floor. The door slamming shut behind him; he doesn’t get up yet. Namjoon just sits there, staring at the door; he can still hear your beautiful whines and moans. For your daddy. For Yoongi. Not for him.

[tuanhood]

lambda

pairing: frat!mark tuan x reader

genre: angst, enemies to lovers (kinda), smut, fluff

warnings: 18+, language, cringey frat stuff, dirty talk, oral sex (male receiving), explicit sex. 

word count: 11,400+

summary: your last choice was renting a room at a frat house over the summer, especially after you told yourself you were done with anything frat related, but when your ex ditches you last minute its your only option. now... if only you could stop dreaming about the president of lambda chi.

a/n: surprise again! mark won the poll!! but like I said i think i’m going to continue doing a frat one shot for each member. so it’ll be like a little anthology series!! but i have no clue when i will write the other once so please bare with me :) Also if there’s some frat stuff in here that doesn’t make sense just let me know in my ask or if you have any questions i’ll be happy to answer! 

alpha | delta | gamma | kappa | theta | sigma

“Who do you know here?” you found yourself being asked before even fully stepping onto the property.

The douchey guy with his backwards baseball cap and muscle tee – sporting his letters of course – looked you up and down as if trying to place you.

“No one actually.”

He looked confused, “wait seriously? You’re just going to admit that right off the bat? Usually people try to make something up.”

“See I’m not here to play games… Kyle? I’m guessing your name is Kyle. I have the unfortunate pleasure of living here over the summer, because this was the cheapest and most last-minute housing I could find. Now I’m just going to go up to my room and mind my own business while you and your brothers throw this stupid party that better be over before midnight.”

“You could have just said you live here…” the boy mumbled mostly to himself, “well welcome home and congrats on moving in! I’m Bambam by the way.”

He thrusted his hand forward to you, almost forgetting about the mob of people behind you waiting to get in and see if they pass the “vibe” check to get past the front door. You were sure in any other circumstance you would not be passing the vibe check.

“Wow Bambam…” you said to yourself considering the name. He looked delighted as if you were so enthralled by the unique quality of it. You were however, thinking about how Bambam was even worse than “Kyle.”

“And you are?” he asked.

“Dude can you stop flirting and keep the line moving! I’m trying to get wasted before 11!” someone yells from deep in the line behind you.

“Hey! I’m the one who says how fast or slow this line moves! Fuck off man or you can go find your own kick back,” Kyl- Bambam yelled.

Snorting, you rolled your eyes, “you call this a kick back?” You gestured to the full house behind him, deciding to leave out those who were sitting on the roof.

“If the normal school year isn’t in session and the house isn’t over 50% occupied with members, then it’s a kick back. Chapter rules.”

“Would love to see that rulebook, if you have it handy,” you laughed, joking. Somehow, Bambam didn’t get it and cocked his head to the side absorbing your comment, “you really want to see the rules? I mean I could bring it to you later if you-” 

“That’s fine Kyl-Bambam, I’m good. I’m just going to go inside now.”

“Bet, see you later.”

The way he said it makes you think that he means he’ll see you later at the party. That would however be completely wrong, because there was no way you were going to hang out with these disgusting egocentric heathens that just want to fuck and get drunk.

Fraternity housing hadn’t been you first choice for this summer. In fact, it probably hadn’t been your last choice either, but this is what you were stuck with. Staying at school over the summer had been a very last-minute choice – for reasons you weren’t ready to discuss – and by the time you were searching for housing, everything that was cheap and decent had been taken. Instead you were left with cheap and… chaotic.

“Whoa watch out!” You heard being yelled by some douche in a bucket hat as soon as you stepped into your new home.

It had been a week since you moved in, but you hadn’t made any effort to get to know any of the other people staying over the summer. Regardless of whether they were in the same predicament as you or if they were actually members of the org, you weren’t particularly interested in face to face time. After the Spring Quarter you had, you needed alone time and this summer you didn’t plan on making friends with your housemates… Especially if they were in a frat.

Your first week had actually, however, gone somewhat okay. No one had tried to interact with you – in fact you had barely seen anyone else in the house – and there had been no disturbing sounds or noises… It almost didn’t feel like you were living in a frat house, besides the urinals in the bathroom and the boxes of energy drinks that lined a few of the hallways. You were pleased to say the least, until you turned onto Greek row and heard all of the noise from the corner.

Please don’t be Lambda. Please don’t be Lambda. Please don’t be Lambda. Please don’t be Lamb-

The silent prayer in your head clearly hadn’t been heard as you had grown closer and closer to the house you were staying in. Lo and behold you had been met with a very large line of people waiting to get in, loud music and trash all over the lawn. What had you been expecting by choosing to live in a frat?

The bucket hat guy’s warning didn’t faze you. As soon as you process his words you placed your hand up to smack the Styrofoam football he had thrown to the ground. You weren’t in the mood for an obstacle course, you just wanted to get to your room and put in earplugs so you could rest before work tomorrow morning.

“Whoa you got mad fast reflexes. Do you play?” he asked grabbing the object off of the sticky floor.

You couldn’t tell if he was genuinely curious or not. But judging on the way he eyed you up and down, there were other things that were actually on his mind.

Side eyeing him, you snorted, “yeah… I’m not doing this,” you motioned your hand at him in circles and turned to head towards the main stairs. His words stopped you, “wow are we heading there already? Just give me a minute to tell my brothers I can’t watch drinks table anymore.”

Instinctively you cracked your knuckles, bucket hat guy found himself clearing his throat noticing the small detail that showcased your frustration. Turning around, it takes everything in you not to slap him, but more likely than not, this guy probably lived with you as well. Although you didn’t care for being friends with your housemates, it probably wouldn’t be a good look to be the housemate who slapped the people she shared a home with. So instead of a physical reaction, you simply clenched your jaw and went with the most basic response.

“I live here. I’m going to my room.”

Instead of showing any kind of shame or embarrassment for his very wrong estimate about where the situation was going, bucket hat clicks his tongue – almost in a disapproving way.

“Just watch out… we’re using the rooms on the second floor for hookup space. Or wait was it the third?”

As if you couldn’t have been more annoyed.

“What the fuck? How can you guys use the rooms up there when people are renting them out? How can you even use them when they’re locked?”

Bucket hat started to blink too much as if considering your very real query, “The President has a master key to all the rooms. What do you expect deciding to live in Greek housing for the summer?”

If you had known how much this frat didn’t care about personal space or just basic human rights, you would have never chosen to stay at Lambda Chi. In fact, you would have never chosen a fraternity at all – cheap price or not.

“Is it the second or third floor?”

“Don’t remember,” he hummed, no longer paying you any mind but twirling the football in his hand and eyeing a group of girls who had walked by.

Groaning, you snapped your fingers to regain his attention, “It makes a difference so remember.”

He shrugged and looked at you with an annoyed look on his face, “listen you’re kind of bringing my mood down… And I think I hear someone calling me from the kitchen so…” he pointed his thumb somewhere behind him, “I’m just gonna do that instead.”

Bucket hat guy leaves you standing in the main foyer, squished amongst other people, without another word. Although, you swear you heard him mutter something about you “not passing the vibe check.”

Left without a clue of what to do, you figured that the only viable option you had was to go find the President. Luckily bucket hat gave you one sliver of useful information.

Whipping around, you go to ask Bambam where exactly you could find the President, but he’s too enthralled in a conversation with one of the girl’s waiting in line to get in. It probably would do you more harm than good to get involved in that.

Searching around the space in the front of the house, you look for another brother who could perhaps help you with your task.

Right… Shouldn’t be too hard. Just look for someone who’s confident enough to think they’d be able to get out of a DUI.

A loud laugh caught your attention, it comes from a guy holding a Grey Goose bottle and letting random girls take pulls out of it.

Perfect.

You approached him, placing a gentle hand on his arm that holds the bottle to get his attention. He took notice of you immediately, giving you the same exact look bucket hat had given you earlier. What was up with these guys? They weren’t even trying to be subtle.

“You want a pull?” He asked with a smirk, shaking the bottle in his hand at you.

Shaking your head, you cleared your throat, “I’m looking for the President… Where would I find him?”

Grey Goose bottle guy wiggled his eyebrows at you. Gross. “Ah I see… you want Mr. President. I think he’s in his room.” You wanted to be cordial, but these people just weren’t making it easy.

“What room is his again?” You asked, batting your eyelashes in the most normal way possible – as if that was normal for you.

Grey Goose placed his hand under his chin and tapped it as if deep in thought. He paused and smiled, “I’ll tell you if you take a pull.”

Where were you right now? In what dimension was this actually happening to you? If you told your friends back home about having to take a pull from a bottle of Grey Goose in order to find the President of a fraternity to get him to stop maybe letting people hook up in the room you’re paying for, they wouldn’t believe you. You didn’t believe it.

Sighing you brought your hand up, in a “give it to me” motion. Grey Goose smiled proudly and brings the bottle up, tipping it into your mouth once you have your head leaned back and lips parted. It felt like forever by the time he finally brings the bottle up from your mouth. The burning sensation in your throat makes you want to throw up, and for a moment you think you are, but somehow you manage to take a deep breath and control yourself.

“That was awesome! I think you took like a shot and a half.” I know, you wanted to yell at him, but you bit your tongue. Usually pull meant a swig, not 66 milliliters of vodka.

Wiping your lips with the back of your hand, already feeling lightheaded, you repeated your earlier question, “what room is his?”

Grey Goose nodded, “he’s on the third floor. There’s a huge sign on the door that says President with the chapter’s crest, you can’t miss it.” If it truly was that easy, maybe you should have just gone looking yourself instead of being blackmailed into consuming alcohol the night before you had to work.

“Thanks,” you muttered to him, not bothering to wait and hear a response. You found yourself back at the main stairs, taking two steps at a time until you reached the third floor. It wasn’t long before you realized Grey Goose was right, his room wasn’t hard to miss.

Usually you were a rational thinker. You liked thinking out your thoughts before you turned them into actions, but in this case, you couldn’t stop yourself from knocking on the door as soon as you’re in front of it.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

There’s no answer. Was it possible he wasn’t in his room anymore? You tried again.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

This time your ears catch noise behind the door. There was someone inside, but they were just choosing to ignore you.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

This time the noise was clearer and you can make out specific words being said.

“Maybe they’ll just go away.”

Before you could stop your usual logical mind, you’re reaching for the doorknob – annoyed by this “President” who was trying to make you leave. To your surprise, the handle turns and you swung the door open slowly, being met with a mostly dark room aside from one bedside lamp being on.

“What the fuck?” The deep voice startled you as if you had been expecting no one to actually be on the other side of the door. What the hell were you doing?

Your eyes landed on the large bed in the middle of the room and you really wished you hadn’t. The two half naked figures on top of one another looked at you with wide eyes, the girl immediately grabbing the comforter to cover herself pushing the guy, causing him to fall off the bed.

“Are you for real right now?” the guy asked you from the floor, “get the fuck out!”

You felt frozen in your spot, your hand still on the door knob and unable to break your gaze from the boy on the floor. It was like you were a virgin again based on the way you were staring at his toned chest and muscular arms. You were certain if he hadn’t been sitting and crouched on the floor, you would be eyeing the black boxer briefs that rest on his hips.

“What’s wrong with you? I said get out!”

It’s almost as though his second demand for you to leave is what woke you up, suddenly mumbling a “sorry,” and shutting the door closed.

Opening the door to someone’s room without approval wasn’t something you typically did – you had simply done it as a reaction to the stressful situation you were in. Openly staring at a frat boy definitely wasn’t something you typically did either. It was like your brain had shut off and you weren’t going to let it happen again.

You continued standing in front of the door, unsure of what to do. Should you wait for him to… finish? Was that even the President? Maybe this was your sign that the third floor was the hook up floor. If so, then you were in the clear to go back to your room… so why didn’t your feet want to move?

“Mina come on! Don’t leave! We can keep going!” This time the voice behind the door is much louder and clear.

“You were dumb enough to leave it unlocked! I shouldn’t even be doing this anyways… my loyalty lies with Sigma Chi.” 

“What? Just because they’re Phi Mu’s affiliate frat? That’s bullshit!”

“My sisters will kill me if they find out I was with a Lambda,” you heard her say, her voice becoming louder signaling she was approaching the door.

“I don’t understand why that has to stop us from fucking though!”

The door swung open and you find yourself taking a step back, looking away to pretend like you weren’t eavesdropping. The girl glanced at you and rolled her eyes before ignoring the boy behind and heading down the hallway to go downstairs.

While pretending to be fixated on the wall’s chipped paint, you glanced out of the corner of your eye to see the guy in his doorway, clearly annoyed at the situation. He ran his hand through his hair out of frustration and you can’t ignore how fluffy it looked. You watched him run it through three times, before you make yourself look away.

“You,” he grumbled pointing at you, “Here. Now.” He quickly turned, going back into his room, leaving the door open for you to follow. You think that maybe you shouldn’t follow him, but judging on the way he looked back at you with an intimidating stare, it was probably the right choice.

You awkwardly stood next to his desk and watched him reach into his closet to grab a robe to throw over his naked torso, shielding his body from you. As he tied it and sat down on the bed, leaning forward, you’re able to see a sliver of his chest and collarbone where the robe hangs down. It confused you as to why he wouldn’t just put his regular clothes back on, but you found yourself not being annoyed in the slightest at the display of skin.

His eyes bore into you, and it’s almost as though he’s waiting for you to speak first – to say something to make up for your invasion of his privacy.

“Are you the President?”

He looked at you as if you were insane, “what the hell does it say on the door?”

All of the annoyance and frustration that had fueled your fire downstairs, making you a woman on a rampage had dissipated. For some reason standing in front of this guy, you felt like a small child being talked down to. In any other situation you would fight back and show him you weren’t going to take his tone, but for some reason you couldn’t find it in you.

“I was just making sure… okay?”

Mr. President cracked his knuckles, “Why the hell did you barge into my room?” You don’t answer him. You were trying to think of what you would normally say or do to a guy like this, but your mind went blank once again. “You just cost me a hook up tonight, so speak.” His tone is a mixture of aggravated and bored – if that was something that was even possible.

“I mean you’re the one who left the door unlocked…” you mumbled to yourself, but the anger on his face signals that he heard. He threw up his hands, “That still doesn’t give you the right to just walk into a room that’s not yours.”

That really got you. You felt the flame within you being lit once again. “Look who’s talking.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re the one who’s letting people’s rooms be used for sex without their permission. Invading their privacy!” you growled.

Mr. President blinked at you blankly and judging on his reaction, it almost seemed like he didn’t know what you were talking about. Oh… he’s good.

“Excuse me? What kind of place do you think this is? This isn’t an authoritarian regime.”

You took a step forward to where he sat on the bed, waving your finger, “then explain to me why one of your little minions downstairs told me that.”

“I have no clue who would tell you that… or why.”

“Bucket hat… football,” those are the only two words you can think of to describe him, but you hoped that would be enough. Almost instantly he nodded, “Ah Jaebeom… Yeah he was definitely just fucking with you.”

You took a step back out of shock. This was all a joke? These idiot Lambda Chi boys had been playing you? “So, I took a pull from Grey Goose guy’s bottle for nothing? I came up here for nothing? I walked in on you and Ms. Phi Mu for nothing?”

He ignored your comment about the girl’s sorority, a clear admission that you had been listening through the door, “Grey Goose? Do you mean Youngjae?”

The last fifteen minutes had filled you with enough inconveniences, stress, annoyance and embarrassment to feel like a lifetime… and this was only after one week of living in this house. How were you going to last the entire summer? Deal with all of the parties… the douchey boys objectifying you and treating everything like it was a funny joke. Not to mention their chapter’s President who seemed bitter and rude. Surprisingly attractive… but bitter and rude.

Instead of confirming Mr. President’s suspicions that Grey Goose guy was indeed this Youngjae person, you nodded solemnly towards the direction of his door, “I’m going to my room.”

“Wait… you’re living here over the summer?”

When he asked the question, you begin to feel the alcohol you had consumed earlier. Instead of feeling drunk it made you feel dizzy, tired and heavy. It made you feel even more defeated than you already felt from your sudden reality that this was your life for the next three months.

You threw up an unenthusiastic thumbs up and slowly made your way to the door. He looked at you stunned for your sudden disengagement in the conversation you were having. Although to you it didn’t feel like a conversation. Conversations were meant to be constructive, collaborative… Whatever this was, wasn’t that.

You’re in the doorway when he speaks again, “It’s Mark by the way… for when you dream about me later.”

Clenching your fists, you don’t give him the satisfaction of looking back no matter how much you weirdly want to. To see his fluffy hair, bounce as he shakes his head from side to side, that golden tanned skin, his huge-

That’s enough.

That night it takes you nearly two hours to fall asleep. You spend the first hour with a pillow over your head, trying to drown out the party downstairs. The second however, is spent thinking about one… Mr. President. It makes you feel nauseated and when you finally wake up for work the next the morning, all you can remember is the fluffy hair in your dream.

Four days had passed since the party and you hadn’t run into any of the brothers since then. No Kyle, no bucket hat, no Grey Goose. Or Bambam, Jaebom and Youngjae… or whatever. And no Mark. Not that you had been thinking about seeing him again.

Those four days felt peaceful – normal almost, that was until now. Those calming four days came to an end when you came home from your afternoon shift at work, the guys all sitting on the front porch with beers in their hands.

You were quite aware of “porch” culture amongst the fraternities at your school. The members would drag ratty old indoor furniture such as loveseats and armchairs onto the porch near the front door and sit there for hours. They’d drink their beers, play their loud music and shout things at people walking by. Yes, you knew porch culture very well… It was how you had met your ex-boyfriend.

“Well look who we have here!” Jaebeom – sans bucket hat – shouted as you began walking up the path to the porch, “haven’t seen you since the party sweetheart.”

“Shut up man you can’t say that stuff anymore. Feminism and all that,” Bambam said hitting Jaebeom’s shoulder. If you were held at gunpoint and forced to pick a favorite out of them – it would probably be Bambam. He had done the least to annoy you thus far, but you weren’t holding your breath.

“I’m going inside,” you hoped your emotionless tone is enough to get them to leave you be and just get into the house. You’d rather not spend any more time than you have to with the guys – especially during porch time.

“Heard you got history on the row Y/n,” Youngjae’s words made you stop in your tracks. This was the last thing you wanted to talk about, especially with them. You gave Youngjae a death glare, trying to communicate with him to keep his Grey Goose filled mouth shut.

The way Mark looked up at you behind his IPA doesn’t go unnoticed by you. In his mind he was trying to be discrete. He tried to present a look that was a mixture of intrigue but also indifference, even though in reality he was eager to hear his friend’s story about you.

“Some Sigma Chi history to be more specific,” Youngjae wiggled his eyebrows and you have to stop yourself from slapping the smile off of his face.

If there was anything you truly knew about frat guys, it was that every action they did or thing they said was all meant to get a reaction out whatever person they’re torturing. Acting like you didn’t care was going to bring the stakes down for Youngjae and he would ditch the story altogether. Clearing your throat, you shrugged your shoulders, “yeah so what. It’s history and history is in the past so… that’s all that needs to be said.”

He looked at you with the same stupid smile and it doesn’t falter at all. You must have shown too big of a reaction in your response.

“You dated Ryan for almost a year – I’d say that’s a record for someone at Sigma Chi,” him and the boys laughed – all of them except Mark who’s still looking at you, but pretending not to.

You tell yourself not to get upset, not to get angry or cry – because that’s what they wanted from you. Here they were treating the “relationship” you were in like a joke and you had to remain a stone wall, unaffected. Well fuck that.

“Yeah it was a record for me falling for the stupid and douchery of the typical frat guy who was actually fucking other girls the entire time unbeknownst to me because in actuality he never considered us together. But hey what can you do when you’re dealing with guys who have big egos and small dicks?”

The boys stared at you with blank faces, you swear you see Mark smile behind his bottle.

“Is she talking about us too?” Jaebeom whispered to Bambam, “Dude… I think maybe.” Without another word, you pushed open the front door aggressively, making sure it closes behind you loudly.

You don’t know why you thought your “relationship” with your ex-boyfriend was going to work out. The two of you had met because you had been passing by his house during porch time and he cat called you. What the fuck were you thinking? Even at that point you had thought guys in fraternities were terrible, but for some reason that day you just went along with one of them objectifying you… And you fucking made him into your “boyfriend.” That day you had been feeling insecure and low – that was the only explanation you had for your out of character actions.

Being with Ryan only continued your influx of out of character actions. You spent all you free time with him when you weren’t in school or working. Apparently however, all of his free time hadn’t been spent with you. The truth came out after you had planned on staying with him over the summer at his family’s lake house. It had been something you two had talked about for months and when you were only a month away, he had hit you with a bomb.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this live together thing over the summer. Samantha might get mad.”

To which you had asked, “who’s Samantha?” Then the guy who you had thought was your boyfriend went on to explain how the other girl he was seeing – Samantha – would get jealous if he brought you to the lake house instead of her. The next thing to come out of your mouth was a big “fuck you” and “I never want to see you again.” Hence why your decision to stay at school over the summer was so last minute and you were forced to stay in a fraternity house which was so much like the one your heart had been broken in only a month earlier.

You should have known Ryan wasn’t serious about you – no frat guy at your school would ever be serious with an unaffiliated girl like you. The sex should have told you how serious he was. It would always be the fast, rough kind of fucking where he mostly had you in doggy position or with your mouth around his dick. There was none of the lazy, slow passionate sex that came when you were actually serious or mesmerized by someone.

“What the hell is up with Sigma Chi getting all the hot girls?” you heard Jaebeom ask from the porch. The idiots had left the front window open so anyone could hear what they were talking about – but there weren’t really any boundaries when it came to brotherhood. Instead of leaving and going upstairs, you remained frozen in your spot with an ear positioned to the window. For some reason it seemed like living in this house was turning you into an eavesdropper.

“Guys don’t talk about her like that.” The chiming in from Mark surprised you, he had been so silent outside when you had been present that you didn’t really expect him to defend you.

“Oh really, why?”

“She’s not just a hot girl…” Mark paused for dramatic effect and you can practically hear all the guys on the edge of their seats, “she’s a super-hot girl.” You rolled your eyes as he finished his thought about you, the guys all giving him high fives and verbal agreement.

“So, what do you say Mr. President? Gonna try to hit that?”

Mark didn’t answer the second question, “Mr. President?”

Bambam laughed, “Oh yeah I overheard her on the phone the other night and that’s what she called you.” Okay maybe Bambam was no longer your favorite, “Mr. President and his fluffy hair.” You aren’t sure if you should be embarrassed because of him exposing you or offended because of the voice he uses to mimic your own. You did not sound like that.

Once again, all the guys laugh, but this time you can’t hear Mark’s own stand out giggling in the mix. For some reason you wished you could see his face right now. That’s when you decide it’s probably best to go upstairs.

“Take it, take it all,” Mark growled into your ear as he thrusted into you at a brutal pace. You couldn’t respond to him; your mind was too hazed over with pleasure.

“Wow my cock’s that good that you forgot how to speak? I know you think you’re smarter than me, but it looks like you’re wrong. All it takes is for me to be inside of you for one fucking minute for you to act like you don’t even know your own name.”

He’s right. He’s so right and all you can do is agree with him.

He brings his hand down between the two of you to rest on your clit, tapping his finger at the same pace he pumps into you at. “I know you think I’m a dumb frat boy who’s only good at drinking and partying, but how about now, hmm? Don’t you think I’m good at fucking this tight pussy?”

You awake with a gasp. You’re covered in sweat and your hand has somehow found its way underneath your shorts and underwear. Why the fuck were you having a sex dream about Mark? It felt like your entire body was on fire, even your fan being on the high setting wasn’t going to help you in cooling down.

Getting out of bed, you decided to head downstairs to the kitchen. What you needed was a popsicle and a bag of ice. The ice was to help how hot you felt, the popsicle was a distraction from thinking about whatever the fuck your subconscious had just come up with.

“Hello?” The voice coming out of nowhere causes you to jump as you swing one of the freezers in the large kitchen open. You attempted to squint your eyes in the darkness to make out who the voice belongs too, but it’s too difficult to see.

“If you keep your eyes like that, you’re going to ruin your vision,” the lowness of the voice takes you back to only moments ago in your room when you had been hot and absolutely bothered. It was the same voice from your dream.

“What are you doing down here?” you asked, moving your head around the space, still unable to properly see him.

Suddenly, Mark’s face comes into view as he stepped closer to you so he could be seen in the light of the freezer, he’s so close, you hold your breath, “what? No hello?”

You scoffed, “I usually don’t when people are just down here sitting in the dark.” Mark doesn’t respond to your comment about him lurking and positioned his glance to where your hand was placed in the freezer, “feeling hot?” Your eyes went wide, “w-what?”

He pointed to you hand resting on the box of popsicles, “the popsicles…” Laughing awkwardly you pulled one out from the package and go to reach for an ice pack, “oh… yeah.”

Mark nodded his head, “it’s pretty hot tonight… That’s why I came down here. You know heat rises and all that stuff… I’m on the third floor so…” he drifted off and his tone sounds off, unlike when you had first met him. He almost sounded nervous?

“Listen… I want to apologize for the guys on the porch the other day. They brought up all that stuff about you and your Sigma Chi dude… and it wasn’t cool.” You don’t think about the fact that he called you super-hot and laughed with all the guys, but instead you focus on how surprisingly genuine Mark sounded.

“I’m sorry too about coming into your room and ruining your night.”

“Nah you didn’t ruin my life,” there’s a weird pause and it makes you look away from him, but he’s quick to continue, “I mean that girl was just some stupid Phi Mu bimbo.” Without thinking about it, you hit his arm and he flinched at the pain, “ow!”

“You can’t call a woman stupid or a bimbo just because she wouldn’t sleep with you!” He placed his hands up in surrender, “Sorry, sorry! I’m still learning.”

Mark reached behind you into the freezer and grabbed a popsicle himself. When his arm brushes your shoulder and he gets close enough that you can feel his breath on your face you feel the same pulsing in your core from your dream.

“You should probably eat that… It’ll melt,” he motioned to the popsicle in your hand once he’s back in his original spot, “and close the freezer.”

“Right…” you nodded. It felt like you suddenly lost all intellect when you were around this guy, what was happening to you? It had happened with Ryan… but not on this scale at all.

Shutting the freezer, you’re both met with the darkness of the kitchen. This time you’re able to focus in on Mark’s face despite it being pitch black, both of you opening the wrappers of your icy dessert.

“Besides…” Mark began, going back to the previous topic, “from what I’ve learned… sorority girls are trouble. Not really what I’m looking for. I’d much rather be with someone unaffiliated.” His words caused you to choke on your popsicle, coughing until you feel like there’s no breath in you. Mark’s thankful for the darkness, otherwise you’d see his smile at you being so caught off guard.

“Are you okay?” He asked patting your back, just as you’re at the end of your coughing fit.

You nodded your head, but then realize he probably couldn’t see your gesture at being fine, “yeah I’m okay… just… went down the wrong pipe, ya know?”

“Oh, I know.” The way he said it almost suggests something, but you try not to think about it. Otherwise your panties were going to get more damp than they already were from earlier.

Mark takes a deep breath in and sighs after a moment, “I know you think I’m a dumb frat boy who’s only good at drinking and partying-” he began, but you cut him off immediately when you recognize his choice of words.

No fucking way.

They were the words from your dream. You felt your heart beat out of your chest and you became worried. You really didn’t want to hear what he was going to say next.

“I’m going to bed!”

“What?” Mark feels confused at your sudden announcement and the way you quickly rush out of the kitchen, the sound of your feet running up the stairs the only reply to his question.

You were strange… that was for sure. But he kinda liked it.

Smiling to himself, Mark finished up his popsicle in the darkness and headed upstairs to go to sleep.

“Mark fuck… please fuck me.”

“Oh, is that all you want from me? Is that all I’m good for?”

You aren’t sure what to say, what you need to do to convince him. “N-no.”

“Then tell me… what do you want from me... Really?”

The quick racing of your heart awoke you from your dream. Fuck… not another one.

Should you go see a therapist? Why was this happening to you? It was the third night in a row you had woken up to a Mark Tuan sex dream. This one however, felt different. Unlike the two before it where he was rough with you – this one it seemed like dream you wanted more. Of course, dream you wanted to still be fucked senseless by him – aka the frat boy way – but she was also holding back. She wanted more. She wanted something else. But what?

Climbing out of your bed, you trail down the hallway to the bathroom.

During normal term time all of the bathrooms were for the guys living in the house, but luckily for you they made a few of the bathrooms in the house “ladies only” for the few girls living in the house over the summer. You pushed the door of the bathroom open, being met with the now familiar poorly drawn and weirdly sexual woman stick figure picture taped over original sign.

Expecting to see an empty bedroom, you felt your jaw drop to the floor at Mark’s naked figure in the shower. He hadn’t even bothered closing the curtain.

You felt like you couldn’t move, you felt like you couldn’t think. With his eyes closed under the stream of water, your eyes trailed down his muscular shoulders to his toned abdomen, slowly going down to his length. The same one you had been dreaming about for the last three nights and your fantasies certainly didn’t do it justice.

Before you could truly comprehend the creepiness level of what you were doing, you heard Mark yelp in shock.

“What are you doing!” he yelled, grabbing the curtain from the side and moving it over the lower half of his body.

Your mouth went dry, “I-I-” You attempted to say something, but you felt your eyes watch the droplets of water that cascade down his skin.

“Y/n!” His words snapped you back into motion and you look up at him. It was difficult to say whether the redness on his cheeks were coming from the heat of the water or from his embarrassment of the situation. Mark himself wasn’t sure.

“I- this is the girl’s bathroom. Why are you in here?”

“This bathroom has the best water pressure in the house… I thought since it was so late no one would come in,” he stuttered.

Even though you’re supposed to be having a conversation with him, you find yourself still thinking about how he looked when you first walked in. How long and thick his cock was.

Still recovering from your dream and the peep show you had just been exposed to, you find yourself moving closer to the shower, “you didn’t even close the curtain… It’s almost like you wanted someone to come in here and find you.” He doesn’t say anything, but you make no mistake of noticing the way he grips the curtain harder against his body and the way his breathing gets heavier.

“Did you want someone to find you?” You’re so close to him now that you can feel the steam from the shower opening your pores.

Mark licked his lips, “maybe I wanted you to come find me.”

“Maybe or you did?”

“You know… you do kind of owe me.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. What was he talking about? Weren’t you guys being all sexy? Weren’t you about to do something?

At your nonresponse he smirked and dropped the curtain, revealing all of himself to you once again, “you cockblocked me, so now it’s time for you to make up for it.”

Just like that with your core beginning to throb almost painfully at how much it wants to be touched, you’re set into motion. You join him in the shower, not even caring about getting your pajamas wet. It’s almost as if no logic matters in this moment to you, instead it’s all about you and Mark and your desires for one another.

He pulled you into a heated kiss, pulling you flush against his soaking wet body. You feel his length pressed up against you and you moaned instinctively at the feeling. Your hands roam up and down his body, feeling those muscles you had been obsessing over since your first encounter, stopping when your hand reaches his hardened member.

Instantly Mark groaned out at the feeling of your hand slowly stroking him. He had already felt sensitive and worked up as he had already been thinking about having you under him before you had entered the bathroom.

Mark’s noises send you into another moment of not caring about reality as you kneeled down before him. In any other situation you would be disgusted at the fact that you were willingly on your knees on the floor of a frat’s shower, but this wasn’t any other situation.

You plunge yourself onto him, mouth wide and your tongue lapping at his head. The sudden and almost vicious sucking nearly caused Mark to lose his balance and slip. You pay no mind to the water cascading down your back and beginning to weigh down your hair as you feel yourself be spurred on by the grunts and moans leaving Mark’s mouth.

As you moved more him into your mouth getting a mixture of pre-cum and water dripping from the corners of your lips, you felt Mark buck his hips into you further. The sudden fullness in your mouth until his head was at the back of your throat made you choke around him, Mark bringing his hand to the top of your head to stroke your hair.

“I know how good you are at choking. I know how much you love it, keep fucking going.”

The vibrations from you moaning at his words caused Mark to throw his head back, “show me how much you want my cum. Moan for me, show me.”

Bobbing your head up and down his length, you make no mistake as you continue your noises around him – not for his benefit, but you genuinely felt turned on at just giving him head.

“Fuck, I’m gonna-” before he finished his thought, you felt his warm release in your mouth and you make sure to swallow it instantly.

The sounds of the shower running and Mark’s heavy breathing, coming down from his climax fill the bathroom. It feels like you could just stay here on your knees forever listening to the sounds and you would be fine.

Once Mark catches his breath, he leant down to grab your hand and lifted you up off the wet – and probably filthy – ground. He pulls you into his arms and placed a kiss on your forehead, “damn what the hell am I going to do with you?”

It’s like his words mean more than what he’s going to do with you in the bedroom and somehow that is the thing that finally snapped you into reality. It’s not seeing him naked; it’s not kissing him; it’s not getting down on your knees and suck him dry and it certainly isn’t swallowing his cum. What the hell am I going to do with you?

What the hell was he going to do with you? And what the hell were you going to do with him? The two of you didn’t make sense and you had to remind yourself that you were in a frat house… doing things of a sexual nature with a frat bro. You were not going to find yourself trapped like you were with Ryan. You had sworn off the kind of guy Mark is. You needed to leave it here… no matter how wet and turned on you were right now.

You took a step back, away from Mark and out of his arms, “I- um I should get dry.”

Mark took a step forward and you took another back. He cocked his head to the side, “well… let me help you.” His seductive gaze doesn’t go unnoticed to you, but you have to think with your head for a second. You had already gone against your own “no more frat boys, they can’t commit” beliefs once, you couldn’t do it a second time. You had to quit while you were ahead.

“I’m going to head to bed,” you stepped down from the shower and onto the bathroom tile. Mark lost for words at your sudden distance, “what? Why? Let me take care of you… You haven’t-” Waving your hands, you cut him off not wanting to hear it, “Mark… Don’t. Let’s just leave this at this. Me blowing you because I owed you one…” when it comes out of your mouth, you realize just how ridiculous it all sounded.

Mark took a step toward you, also coming out of the shower and reached to grab his towel, wrapping it around his waist. “Leave it at this? Y/n… I don’t think you understand, I-”

“Mark, I know the kind of guy you are. It’s who your friends are, it’s who all the guys living in this house are, it’s who my fucking ex-boyfriend was. I really can’t do another guy who’s just going to fuck me like I’m an object and be under his charming douchey spell, thinking that he’s all mine. I already did it once and if I did it twice, I think it would kill me. I’m sorry if I led you on or whatever by sucking your dick and making you think that we were going to fuck… and as much as my body wants to, I know it would be smart for me.”

Despite the seriousness of your words and confession, Mark found himself chuckling at the end of your monologue. He’s laughing at your word choice of “sorry if I led you on or whatever by sucking your dick,” but you don’t think about it that way. You think he’s laughing at all of it.

Typical frat guy, you think.

When he noticed the way, your mouth turned into a frown, he feels his heart leap out of his chest. He didn’t want to see you upset… ever. If he could just take some time to talk out how he was feeling to you, then maybe you’d understand how he was – “Goodnight Mark. I’d ask you not to tell you friends about this, but I know you will.”

And just like that you’re gone.

Two weeks and there had been no words exchanged between you and Mark. He had tried countless times to get your attention and talk to you, but you acted as if he didn’t exist. It didn’t go unnoticed by the other people in the house. Bambam prided himself on picking up on sexual tension and when he saw the way you and Mark acted around each other on that day on the porch, he felt it. Sure, the two of you hadn’t said anything, but Bambam could feel the pull between the two of you.

Although previously you didn’t talk to Mark that often in general, Bambam could sense something had happened – something wasn’t right between the two of you. It made him upset to see his brother so down, so… emotional.

“Guys… We have to do something about this Mark and Y/n situation,” Bambam said as he watched Jaebeom and Youngjae practice their beer pong aim in the backyard.

Youngjae looked at him confused, “what do you mean Mark and Y/n situation? There’s something going on there?”

Bambam felt like he wanted to hit him. How Youngjae could be so clueless? He wasn’t sure. “Do you not understand basic human emotions?” The older boy blinked at him mindlessly, before going back to throw the ball at the cups on the other side of the table.

“So anyways… I was thinking we could-”

“That was two! That was two! It totally hit the side of the other cup before it went in!” Youngjae yelled, interrupting Bambam’s big idea.

“Are you kidding? No way. Just take the one or I won’t even give you that,” Jaebeom rolled his eyes, he had enough of Youngjae’s cheating.

“What do you mean you won’t even give me that one? It went in!”

“Guys!” Bambam yelled, interrupting their bickering over the trivial game. They both looked at him with wide eyes, “Can you listen to me? I have a plan.”

Yawning, you decided it was probably time to head in for the night. It had been another long week of trying not to think about Mark.

You barely knew anything about the guy… but for some reason you had this weird pull to him. Deep inside your stomach you had this feeling telling you that this was the guy for you, he could be the one. You pushed it all down, your mind was just playing tricks on you – you were delusional thinking he could be the one.

Heading down the hallway to the bathroom – yes, the same bathroom – to brush your teeth you spot Youngjae coming down the corner. You tried your best to avoid his gaze, it was better safe than sorry to just proceed by ignoring Mark’s friends too.

Out of the corner of your eye as you pass one another, you notice the strange way he stares at you. It’s almost in a diabolical way… but that wouldn’t make sense, right?

Weird.

You’re probably on your sixth yawn when you finally head back to your room, reaching the door and going to turn the handle. Except… the handle won’t turn and your door won’t open.

No, this can’t be happening right now…

Trying again a few more times, you realize it had somehow locked on you. And you… like the idiot you are, left the key inside when you went to the bathroom. Was God playing some kind of sick joke on you? How were you supposed to go to sleep tonight?

That’s when it dawned on you that there was only one option.

The President has a master key to all the rooms

Jaebeom’s words flashed in your head over and over again. You tried to think of something else that could get you back in your room and under your warm covers tonight, but you come up short. You had to go up to Mark’s room.

Slowly going up the stairs to the third floor, you find yourself on the borderline of passing out at how completely nauseous and lightheaded you feel. The only way you could truly make this out alive was if you just pretended to be confident.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The door swung open immediately after the third knock, Mark looking surprised to see you at his door.

He felt his hands grow clammy, “Uh… What’s up?”

“I-I locked myself out of my room… And I heard the President as the master key so… here I am.” Mark felt his heart fall at the reason for your visit. Some stupid part of him had thought that maybe you were here for him and not a key to your room, “yeah… just give me a minute.”

Mark stepped inside and you reluctantly follow him, letting the door shut behind you with a bang. Both of you jump at the noise and softly laugh when you notice.

“I get scared easily,” you mumbled.

Mark snorted, “I can tell.”

Crossing your arms, you moved towards him, “What’s that supposed to me?”

“What do you think? That you’re too scared to explore anything you have with someone, because you got hurt once. Tough, Y/n but getting hurt and let down is a part of life,” he looked at you once as he fumbled through his drawer, looking for the key.

“It’s not just that I’ve been hurt. You’re a-” He cut you off, rolling his eyes done with your overdone argument, “I’m a frat guy, I get it. We’re all the same, blah blah blah. Save it for your dissertation on how I’m scum for your Psych class or whatever.”

“I don’t think you’re scum,” you said softly.

Mark shut the drawer, unable to locate the key in this part of his desk and turned to you, “then why do you hate me so much?”

You shuffled in place, unsure of what do with all of these pent-up feelings that not even you were sure how to describe – and you were the one feeling them. “I don’t hate you. In fact, that’s the problem… I like you so much, I’m so attracted to you and I barely know you! I’ve had so many dreams about you that it’s made it all even worse.”

Before you could stop him, you felt Mark’s lips on yours and you find yourself being suffocated again – sidetracked from your original intentions of forgetting him. However, the way his mouth moved against yours and the way his tongue slipped past the crease of your lips made you not care. But of course, he was a good kisser, he probably did this all the time to all the girls.

You felt his fingers grip the hem of your top. He bunched the material just below your breasts as his hands splayed across your ribcage. He allowed you to pull away, your chest heaving and your eyes closed, before he tugged the material of your top up and over your head. The two of you looked at each other, as if absorbing what the two of you were doing.

When he dropped the fabric onto the floor, he moved his mouth to your neck. He can’t help himself as he marked your collarbones with his teeth, every inch of you is practically covered with marks when he’s done. While your mind is caught up in the feeling of his lips on your neck, his hands moved to cup your breasts.

He made you feel so damn good, you didn’t care anymore.

“Mark,” you breathed as you shifted your head to give him better access, “d-do whatever you want. Fuck me however you want. Just do something.” 

You could feel the vibrations of Mark’s laughter against your neck as he reached around your back to unsnap your bra before he pulled away to watch the material fall to the floor. His eyes glued to your chest for a moment, his pupils darkening with lust, before he returned his lips to yours in a heated kiss. 

Your hands dipped beneath the fabric of his t-shirt. You allowed your hands a moment to roam, before you break the kiss and tugged the material of his shirt up and over his head. Once again you feel hypnotized by his chest, just as you had been the first night you met him. You wanted to trace your finger over every muscle, every vain and every inch of skin. Mark helped you out of your pajama pants and returned his lips to your neck. 

“As much as I would love to do fuck you until you feel me in every single part of your body, I want to take my time. To show you just how beautiful you are, just how much I want you.” 

In your sex induced brain you have a moment of clarity to consider his words. Take his time? Weren’t frat boys supposed to be rushed, quick and just be rough with you? You had not a doubt in your mind that Mark would be able to deliver on that, based on how he had first acted around you… but slow? Sensual? Was he even capable of that? You weren’t expecting him to be so… soft and delicate. It wasn’t a part of his brand. 

This time when Mark brings his lips back to you, they’re much softer – he kissed you at an unhurried pace as if he had all the time in the world with you. He gently nudged you to lay on your back, your fingers going to tangle themselves in his fluffy hair. He brings his fingers to curl at the waistband of your panties, “is this okay?” he breathed against your lips. You feel yourself begin to grow more wet at his ask for consent. 

“Yeah,” you mumbled, your eyes closed and your hands tugging at his hair, “more than okay.” 

With your permission, Mark slipped his hand into your panties. Brushing your folds lazily, his fingers gentle and unhurried as he allowed you to pull away and catch your breath. When he brushes your clit and felt yourself jolt in surprise beneath him. He attached his lips to your neck and began pressing kisses along the column of your throat. 

No words are spoken as you moved one hand from his hair and gently squeezed his hardening cock over his sweats. Mark moaned against your skin and moved his fingers a little quicker but not changing his lazy pace as he worked to rile you up. It doesn’t take long as he slipped a finger into your heat and hears you release a content sigh at the feeling. 

“You’re so gorgeous usually,” he whispered against the column of your throat as one of his hands go up to pay attention to your breasts, kneading them gently. “But, fuck, you’re even better naked.” 

At that you laughed, “You’re not so bad yourself Mr. President, you know for a frat guy and all.” He smiled at you, capturing your lips in another kiss, nudging his sweatpants and briefs down. 

The continual strokes of his fingers, working you open along with his hand on your breast makes you feel dizzy. You attempt to focus your attention elsewhere, pressing kisses to his heated skin as he rubbed your clit with his thumb. 

You could feel Mark shifting above you, reaching for the stash of condoms next to his bed, before he ripped open the foil packet and pulled away to roll the latex onto his length. His slowness practically drove you to insanity, you just wanted him inside of you now. 

“Mark please, I want it.” 

Smiling at you, he leaned forward to press a kiss on your forehead, “princess you’re going to get it all.” 

Mark returned his lips to yours as he sank into you. His pace is slow, lazy and soft, as he began fucking into you. You had always thought that slow and sensual sex was the best kind of sex, but maybe you were wrong. With Mark it felt like your whole body was on fire – it was pure torture. The way he jutted his hips into you at a rhythm had your core aching for more. It was like all of your senses were heightened, everything felt so much more pleasureful with the way your body was hanging on every thrust. 

He buried his face into the crook of your neck and groaned as he felt you tug at his hair again. You felt like you were going to go insane and you needed something to grab onto. For you, Mark was willing to do or be whatever you wanted – something he had never remotely thought of doing for anyone ever, including the guys in the fraternity. He was ready to be at your beck and call, to take you like this – making you feel every single stroke, every single time pump into you. 

Mark brings his hand between the two of you back to your core and circled your clit once again, allowing you to fall over the edge. “I know you’re going to look so pretty when you cum, please cum for me. I’ve been thinking about it since that night in the shower.” 

His mention of the shower brings you back to thinking about how good it felt to have him in your mouth, how good he tasted when he came on your tongue, how much you’d like to be on your knees for him again. These final thoughts have you clenching around Mark, his groaning getting more consistent telling you that he’s close. He nipped at your skin and sucked the spot under your jaw at the same time he thrusted himself at a semi-faster pace, hitting your g-spot. That finally makes every part of your body go numb, and you feel your hips buck forward involuntarily, everything in you spasming. 

As he watched your strong release and felt your walls throb around him, Mark began falling over the edge himself. You felt his hips stutter, his breathing shallow, and his hand clenched your hip firmly as he spilled into the condom and you found yourself wanting the moment to last forever as he remained on top of you. You feel him everywhere, warm and solid and entirely him. He pressed a kiss to your lips, another lazy peck, before he pulled away to tie the condom, tossing it somewhere on the ground of his messy room. 

“Are you really just going to throw that on the ground?” you laughed. Mark shrugged, “what if you forget about it later?” 

He smiled, wrapping his arms around your naked body and brings you as close to him as he can, “nah there’s no way I would forget this.”

Two Months Later

It was hard to believe that summer was finally ending and the new school year was right around the corner. No longer would be stuck in what you once considered was your own personal Hell – the Lambda Chi Alpha house. 

The personal Hell had somehow shaped itself into one of the biggest blessings of your life. It had given you Mark Tuan. 

“Finally, you’re home!” Mark smiled, patting the open spot next to him on the love seat at your return from work. 

As soon as you plopped down, Mark pulled you close to him, resting one arm around your shoulder and the other on your thigh, “want the aux cord?” he mumbled into your shoulder, nuzzling the side of his head against it. 

“No! She always gets aux cord when she’s porchin’ it up with us! It’s not fair! She plays that weird K-pop stuff and makes us the laughing stock of the whole street!” Jaebeom whined. 

You laughed, “Don’t knock it until you try it!” 

“I have tried it and I hate it,” Jaebeom quipped back, crossing his arms to show his firm disagreement on the matter. 

“Fine let’s do One Direction this time.” 

“Like that’s any better!” 

“Can you guys shut up I’m trying to think of something to say to that girl,” Youngjae grumbled in annoyance at your bickering with Jaebeom. 

You looked to see a girl walking by the house. Judging on her large backpack, casual clothes and tired face she had been at the library. You doubt she would be up for any unwarranted cat calling. “Don’t say anything!” 

Youngjae looked at you confused, “what… I’m trying to shoot my shot.” 

“As a girl, please trust me when I say don’t.” Youngjae pursed his lips in thought, “not even if I just tell her she has a nice smile?” You look at the girl frowning, “she’s not smiling and no not even that.” 

“Get a load of this guy,” Bambam said as a guy in Phi Kappa Tau letters walks by – most likely to his house. Judging on all of the times you’ve spent on the porch with the boys now, you knew what was coming. Standing up, he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “PHI KAPPA TAU SUCKS.” The guy turned to the porch, eyeing Bambam and flipped him off. 

Sitting down, Bambam shakes his head, “it’s because he knows it’s true.” 

“Will you ever listen to me and realize that it’s stupid to shout at another frat?” you asked. 

Bambam shook his head firmly, “you can’t just get rid of tradition Y/n.” 

Mark firmly nuzzled his head into your shoulder again, kissing the side of your neck, “pay attention to me.” A clingy boyfriend might be annoying to some people and at one point in time you also thought that way, but with Mark you couldn’t get enough of it. The way that he was so dominant and attentive in the bedroom, but then so needy and clingy when it came to being in public. Especially when you were with the other guys.

“Anything for my number one frat star,” you cooed, pinching his cheek.

“You know I hate it when you call me that!” Mark whined, “you pay more attention to the guys then you do to me.” As he pouted you leaned in to give him a peck, but instead he brings the hand resting on your thigh up to cup your cheek, deepening the kiss. Youngjae, Jaebeom and Bambam all groan.

“Y/n?” Your name being called breaks you out your bubble with Mark. The bubble that made you feel like you two were the only people in the world that existed. Pulling apart from his lips, you both turned to see who the culprit is that ruined your moment.

“What the hell are you doing at Lambda?” Ryan asked. It doesn’t hurt to see him again; it was just annoying.

“Back from your lake house I take it Sigma Chi?” Mark asked. You had told Mark everything about what went down with you and Ryan – and if looks could kill… Ryan would already be in his grave.

“I’m not talking to you,” Ryan rolled his eyes, “what the hell are you doing at Lambda?” He asked again.

Without thinking about it, you find yourself standing up and cupping your hands around your mouth just as Bambam had done earlier, “SIGMA CHI SUCKS!”

Ryan couldn’t believe his eyes, he stood there blankly on the sidewalk in front of the house, “what? Very funny Y/n… I know you don’t mean-”

You do it again, “SIGMA CHI SUCKS!” The boys on the porch with you begin to laugh.

Ryan pointed a finger towards you, waving it in the air, “now just wait a minute-”

“SIGMA CHI SUCKS!”

Your ex-boyfriend clenched his jaw, “You weren’t even a good fuck anyways!” The words should hurt you, but they don’t because you know it’s not true.

“Uh… Yeah she fucking is,” Mark retorted, standing up next to you, “why don’t you go home Sigma Chi?” And just like that, you and the guys on the porch have your second middle finger of the day – this time from your ex-boyfriend.

As he walked off in the direction of the Sigma Chi house you all laughed at how blatantly offended, he was at just the fact that you had said his frat sucked. It was middle school taunting, but of course it would work on someone like Ryan. Ryan was a special breed of asshole and it makes you feel stupid to think that you had once grouped Mark with him. All of the Lambda boys.

Mark kisses your shoulder, “what are you thinking about?” His smile melted you – it always does. He was one you had been waiting for and somehow your body and subconscious knew it before you did.

“Just how happy I am to have you by my side Mr. President.”

“I’m happy to have you by my side too,” Mark hummed, but soon he pauses, “unless it’s during beer pong… because you really suck.”

“Mark!”

[kpoppwriter]

The Guy From Summer Camp

Genre: Camp Counselor!AU (Counselor!Mingyu x Counselor!reader)

Words: 3.5k+

Warnings: n/a

Synopsis: You were a counselor at a summer camp in your hometown right after your senior year of highschool. So was Mingyu. You had a bit of a summer romance but after camp ended, you never spoke. Years later, you’ve graduated from college and are looking for a job. In the meantime, you sign up to be a counselor at that same summer camp, for old times sake but what happens when your old flame is also back as a counselor?

A/N: I was inspired to write this by the series Tales from Camp by @kwanisms I highly recommend it its so so good 1000/10 also thanks to @allymemes19​ for helping me with a lot of this love you girl 💕

This is the longest singular fic I have ever written. I have other series and such that are longer but this is the longest thing I’ve written at one time. I love this so so much and I hope you all do too!! 

You stood in front of the large doors of the dining hall, your suitcase beside you. You could hear the soft voice of people chatting through the wooden material. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You grabbed the door handle and slowly opened the door. 

“Ah, there she is!”

All eyes flicked over to you as the camp director walked over to you. He smiled, welcoming you in. You felt slightly embarrassed as you noticed everyone looking at you. 

“Everyone, this is Y/N. She’s our other camp alum.” 

“Other?” you shot the director a quizzitive look

Before he could answer your question, a loud banging echoed from the kitchen in the back of the dining hall. After a moment, a head popped up from behind the counter. 

“Sorry, I dropped the baking tray.”

The person stood up, placing the baking tray in his hand on the table behind him. He walked out of view, assumedly going towards the door that lead back into the dining hall. You heard the director chuckle from beside you.

“Typical Mingyu.”

“Mingyu?” 

You locked eyes with the male just as he walked into the dining hall. You blinked a few times, like you weren’t sure if this was real. Apparently, Mingyu was having the same feelings as you, his expression mirroring yours. Mingyu cleared his throat.

“It’s good to see you again, Y/N.”

The rest of the orientation went smoothly. You were reintroduced to all the rules and regulations of the camp, as well as the duties you’d be performing over the summer. After everyone was given the camp counselor “uniform” (it was just a light blue t-shirt with counselor written on the back), you were sent to your assigned cabins. You were glad you had seniority at this moment since it meant you got a single room instead of having to share a room with some other girls that you barely knew. All the counselors walked together down the path towards the cabins. You walked behind everyone, too tired to join in on the conversations. You didn’t realize how lost in thought you were until you felt someone bump your shoulder. You looked over and noticed Mingyu walking beside you.  

“Hey.”

“Hey.” 

There was silence. 

“It’s been a while,” he said

“It has.”

Silence yet again. You walked awkwardly beside each other.

“Listen, I don’t want this to be awkward between us,” Mingyu sighed, “Do you wanna pretend we’ve never met before? We can start over.” 

Mingyu stopped in front of you, extending his free hand your direction.

“Hi, I’m Kim Mingyu.” 

Your lips twitched into a smile as you took his hand, shaking it. 

“Nice to meet you. I’m Y/L/N Y/F/N.” 

“It’s nice to meet you too, Y/N,” he nodded

You continued to walk down the path, stopping just before it split off in two directions. 

“Well, I’m that way,” you pointed your thumb towards the right path that led to the girls’ cabins

“I’m that way,” Mingyu pointed to the direction of the boys’ cabins

You nodded, pausing before turning to walk down the path. You turned back around when you heard Mingyu call your name. 

“Meet me at the spot tonight after lights out.”

Before you had a chance to question him, he was gone down the other path. 

“I dub thee...our spot,” Mingyu said triumphantly

“Our spot?” you laughed 

“Yeah! Our spot!” he said excitedly, “I mean, we spend so much time here and literally everyone knows that if either of us are missing, we’ll be here. It’s our spot.”  

You nodded, agreeing with his reasoning. You stared out at the lake in front of you, the sun reflecting orange and pink hues on the water. You were thankful for the blanket Mingyu had insisted on keeping hidden nearby. It had rained early in the morning and the ground was still a little damp. Mingyu sighed as he laid down, his arm going to rest under his head. Instead of watching the sunset, his eyes were focused on you. He tapped your shoulder. You looked over, his arm beckoning you to lay down with him. You smiled as you cuddled up to his side. He moved the arm under his head and circled it around your waist. He pulled you almost completely on top of him making you both giggle. He brushed a stray hair away from your face, his fingers lingering by your face. He cupped your cheek and pulled your face close-

~~~

“Y/N!”  

You were pulled from your thoughts when you heard your name. You turned to see Mingyu sneaking over to you. 

“I forgot how hard it is to sneak out of the cabins after lights out,” he chuckled

“Yeah, I know. The floors are even louder than before,” you joked

Mingyu got comfortable in the grass, the roots of a nearby tree making it a little hard. 

“I forgot how beautiful this view is,” you whispered

“Yeah,” he agreed, “I was actually worried that you forgot where this place was.”

“How could I forget when you made such a big deal of it,” you laughed, “You loved this spot so much. You even wanted to put up a sign claiming it as ours.”

“Well, it’s a great spot,” he grumbled

The water was still, the occasional lighting bug reflecting its light on the surface. It was dark and you were very glad of this fact. You could feel a warmth on your cheeks and you didn’t want to give Mingyu the satisfaction of seeing the pink tint. 

“So,” Mingyu turned to face you, “What have you been up to since the last time we saw each other?” 

Oh, how bittersweet those words must’ve felt coming out of his mouth.

“Ah, ya know...college and such,” you hummed, “After camp, I moved into the city and started college. I just graduated actually.”

“Oh, congrats,” Mingyu smiled, “I just graduated too!” 

“What’d you major in?”

“Culinary arts.” 

“Of course you did,” you smiled, “I can’t imagine you doing anything else.” 

“Well, you’re the one that told me I should even go to school for that.”

He was right, you had totally forgot. After listening to him tell you about another amazing recipe he wanted to try out, you had mentioned that he’d be a great chef and he should go to school for it. You didn’t think he really took that to heart. 

“What did you major in?”

“Education.”

“A perfect fit for you too,” Mingyu chuckled, “You were always good with the campers.”

“So were you Mr. I-Can’t-Wait-To-Be-A-Dad. I swear that’s all you’d talk about sometimes. It was always cooking or having kids.” 

You both laughed, knowing you were only half joking. The sounds of the night echoed in your ears. So many memories of the last time you were at camp resurfaced in your mind. You couldn’t tell if this made you happy or sad. 

“I missed you.” 

You barely heard Mingyu speak, his voice just barely above a whisper. His eyes were focused on his hands. He was far too shy to actually look at you now. 

“I was so sure it was going to be us in the end,” he sighed, “Then everything just...fell apart.”

“I know.”

You gazed out onto the water, the world feeling absolutely quiet for just a moment. You pulled your knees up to your chest holding them tightly. Your mind drifted off to all the times you spent daydreaming about your life with Mingyu after camp. All the plans you had. All the dreams. You sighed, your forehead resting on your knees. 

I know.

You were groggy when you woke up the next morning. Probably because of how late you stayed up, even after parting with Mingyu. You couldn’t sleep. You were just stuck on him. One of the other counselors knocked on your door telling you that they were heading to the dining hall. You told them you’d catch up with them in a bit. You didn’t really bother with getting ready, just throwing on your camp shirt and some shorts before heading to the bathroom to brush your teeth and fix your hair. 

You yawned as you walked the path towards the dining hall. You noticed up ahead were some of the male counselors, Mingyu sticking out like a sore thumb. His height made him very easy to spot. He noticed you walking behind the group and sent you a small wave. You returned it with a smile. 

The dining hall was surprisingly quiet,. Then again, you were used to seeing a bunch of kids filling all of the tables. Today, it was just the counselors and other camp staff. You grabbed a tray of food and headed towards the table where some of your cabinmates sat. Just as you were sitting down, the camp director walked to the front of the room.

“Morning everyone!” some people responded with a greeting of their own, “The campers will be showing up today around noon so everyone be ready up at the front gates to greet them.”

There were murmurs of ‘alright’ and ‘we’ll be there’ from the tables.  

“Now, as we have more campers, as well as counselors this year, I have taken the liberty to divide up tasks ahead of time. Everything will be done in pairs so don’t worry about being asked to do too much. Also, you won’t have to do the same duties every day. I tried to split everything up so everyone would be able to do a little bit of everything.” 

You weren’t really listening, your chewing drowning out the sounds of the director talking. Your eyes scanned the room, not really in search of anything but just to see what people were doing. Your eyes landed on Mingyu. He still looked tall despite being sat down. You were sure he had just gotten out of bed, his clothes looking like pajamas and his hair a bit disheveled. He was scarfing down his food, also not paying attention to the director. He lifted his head for a moment, his eyes locking with yours. You quickly looked away, knowing he was probably smirking at the sight of the blush appearing on your cheeks. 

The director finally finished talking and hung up the list of duties on the corkboard beside the front door of the dining hall. Counselors crowded around trying to get a look of what they were assigned to do for the next few weeks. You waited until most of the people had left before going up to check. You scanned the page looking for your name. You let out a sigh when you finally found your name. Kitchen duty on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays and campfire time on Fridays and Saturdays.  

“Ok, that’s not too bad,” you thought, “But who with?”

Mingyu. For both. 

“Looks like we’re kitchen buddies and campfire buddies, huh Y/N?” Mingyu singsonged from behind you

“Looks like it,” you hummed

He sent you a warm smile before heading out of the dining hall. When he was out of sight, you let out an exasperated sigh. Why him?

“Mingyu, I swear to god if you put anymore of that frosting on me I will-”

“You will what?” he smirked, his icing covered finger inching closer to your face

“I know where you sleep,” you threatened

“And?” 

You slipped around Mingyu and dashed to the other side of the kitchen. You laughed at his surprised expression. 

“I’m slicker than you think I am,” you teased

“Oh, now you’re in for it.”

He chased you around the kitchen, his finger still holding onto the frosting. He caught up to you, snaking his arm around your waist. He pulled you into his chest and smeared the icing on your nose. You whined as you tried to wriggle your way out of his grasp. He spun you around but still kept you trapped in his arms. 

“I can’t get it,” you whined, trying to lick it off your nose

“You don’t have a long enough tongue for that, babe,” he chuckled

He licked the frosting off the tip of your nose, eliciting a groan from you. 

“Did you seriously just lick me?” you shot him a disgusted look 

Mingyu only laughed, pressing his lips to yours in a sweet kiss.

~~~

You shook your head, bringing yourself back to reality. You stirred the large pot of stew in front of you. You could hear Mingyu humming to himself from somewhere else in the kitchen. He was cutting up some vegetables to add to the side dishes for dinner. 

“Whatcha thinking about?” he asked suddenly

“Hmm?” his question took you by surprise, “Oh, ya know...”

“No I don’t actually,” he laughed, “That’s why I asked.”

He stopped chopping vegetables and walked over to you, leaning against the counter. 

“Spill.”

“I was just thinking about one of the times we were in here,” you admitted, “When we were supposed to be making cupcakes for one of the events but instead you chased me around with frosting.” 

“Ohh I remember that!” Mingyu said excitedly, “You are surprisingly quick. I was sure I was going to fall before I got a chance to catch up to you.” 

“I’m surprised you didn’t.” 

You continued to stir the stew, Mingyu staying beside you. You could feel Mingyu’s stare even though you weren’t looking at him. His fingers gently brushed against your temple as he moved a hair away from your face. Your eyes widened at the sudden touch but you didn’t move away. His fingers lingered by your face, almost like he was hesitating. You turned to look at him, his hand retracting.

“Sorry, that was probably overstepping,” he whispered

“No, no. You’re fine.” 

Your eyes were locked on each other. Your mouth was slightly agape, as if you were about to say something. But nothing came out. Mingyu hummed sadly before returning to the vegetables. The sounds of bubbling stew and the slicing of vegetables filled the kitchen but it still didn’t fill the silence between you and Mingyu. 

“What happened after camp ended?” he whispered

“What do you mean?”

“I thought we said we would make it work.”

You could hear the anger and frustration in his voice. 

“Life happened.”

“Life isn’t a good excuse,” he mumurmed 

You spun around to face him.

“You think I didn’t wish everything would’ve worked out? That we would’ve had the fairytale ending like we had hoped?” you felt tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, ”I wanted nothing more than to be with you. I thought about you everyday but I knew it couldn’t work. Not with everything I had on my plate.”

You let out a labored breath, all your emotions finally bubbling over. Mingyu was stunned at your sudden confession. He took a cautious step towards you.    

“Y/N-”

“No,” you put your hand up, warning  him not to step any closer, “I can’t do this. I came back to reminisce on the past. Not remind myself of how I broke your heart.”

You rushed out of the kitchen and out of the building, ignoring Mingyu as he called for you. 

You avoided Mingyu like the plague. You were still upset from the other day in the kitchen and still guilty from all those years ago. You had always felt guilty about what you did. You never meant to hurt him. But you couldn’t avoid him for much longer as it was Friday night and you two had to watch the campers at the campfire that night. it was unavoidable. You mustered up all the courage you had as you left your cabin at sunset. 

Mingyu was already setting up at the fire pit when you arrived. He looked a little surprised to see you. 

“Didn’t think I was gonna come?” you said

“Well I mean- I just wasn’t sure since you haven’t shown up for kitchen duty...”  

“Yeah...sorry about that.”

The conversation trailed off and the two of you just set up the fire pit in silence. Campers started walking up, their voices echoing into the night. The fire was burning bright, campers sat around it chatting loudly. You were fixing one of the younger girl’s hair when you heard a guitar being strum. The kids were silent only quiet oohs and ahhs coming from their mouths. Mingyu sat on one of the log benches with a guitar in hand. 

“I was thinking about playing a song for you all. How does that sound?” 

The children excitedly scooted closer waiting for Mingyu to start playing. 

“What about you, Ms. Y/N?” one of the boys asked   

“Yeah! We wanna hear you sing!” another boy said 

You tried to protest, coming up with excuses about how you weren’t a good singer and such. Mingyu immediately shut that down by stating that you had an amazing singing voice. You sent the male a glare as the begging from the children got more persistent. 

“Fine, I’ll sing.” 

The children cheered as you moved to sit closer to Mingyu. You sighed, waiting for him to start playing. 

“Settle down with me. Cover me up. Cuddle me in.”

Oh no.

“Lie down with me, And hold me in your arms.”

Not a romantic Ed Sheeran song. Not this one. 

“And your heart's against my chest, your lips pressed to my neck. I'm falling for your eyes, but they don't know me yet.”

Mingyu’s eyes moved from his guitar to meet yours. 

“And with a feeling I'll forget, I'm in love now.”

Kiss me like you wanna be loved You wanna be loved You wanna be loved This feels like falling in love Falling in love We're falling in love

“That’s such a pretty song,” you hummed 

“It is,” Mingyu agreed

He let go of the guitar in his lap and took your hand in his, your fingers intertwining. You brought his hand up to your lips, kissing his knuckles. He giggled at the cute action. The flashlight that Mingyu had somehow attached to the nearby tree illuminated the two of you just enough; enough for you to see the blush on Mingyu’s cheeks. 

“Aww you’re blushing,” you cooed, pinching his cheek

“Stooop,” Mingyu pouted, playfully swatting your hand away

“How cute.”

You sat together on the blanket, fingers still intertwined. His thumb stroked the side of your hand absentmindedly. He stared up at the stars trying to find constellations he knew. Your gaze was too focused on him to do the same. 

“I love you,” you whispered

Mingyu’s eyes went wide as he moved to look at you. You stammered out some type of apology but was quickly stopped when Mingyu leaned over and kissed you. 

“I love you too,” he whispered against your lips

~~~

The night felt colder now that you weren’t by the fire anymore. Some of the younger girls wanted to go to bed but were too scared to walk alone. You walked them back to their cabin but didn’t really feel like going back to the campfire. You slowly made your way to the spot, not wanting to retire for the night. You passed by many small groups of kids heading back to their cabins from the campfire. You were happy when you finally arrived at the spot, needing some peace and quiet. You stared out onto the lake completely ignoring everything around you.

“Is this seat taken?” 

You jumped slightly at the sudden voice pulling you from your thoughts. Beside you stood Mingyu pointing at the ground next to you. You shook your head. He hummed as he plopped down beside you. You sat in silence for a while. 

“Do you remember the first time we said ‘I love you’ because I do,” Mingyu sighed as he laid down on the grass

You hummed, not wanting to admit that you remember that moment in perfect detail.

“It was such a beautiful night,” he chuckled to himself, “I was looking up at the stars thinking to myself ‘how do I tell her how I really feel without scaring her off?’ and I didn’t even have to worry about that. You said it first.” 

You pulled your knees up to your chest, hugging them tightly. You rested your head on your knees, your face looking at Mingyu. His eyes were looking up at the stars but you knew he wasn’t actually concentrated on them. 

“I still love you.”

Your voice was so quiet that Mingyu almost didn’t hear you. He immediately sat up. Your eyes were now gazing out at the lake, trying to avoid eye contact with him. 

“I never stopped loving you,” you whispered

He moved his hand to sit atop yours. Your eyes flicked down to your hand then up at him. His hand traveled up your arm to your cheek cupping it. His thumb gently brushed over your skin. He leaned in close, his breath fanning over your lips. He stopped just as his lips ghosted over yours, wordlessly asking for permission. You closed the gap and gently pressed your lips on his. He was so soft with you almost as if you were glass. You gripped onto his shirt tightly keeping him close to you. All your bottled up emotions came flooding out of you, tears rolling down your cheeks. Mingyu pulled away when he felt the wetness hit his thumb. 

“I-I’m so so-sorry for everything. I was just s-so scared to start something that maybe w-wouldn’t have lasted but I really w-wanted to be with you and-”

“Shhhh, it’s okay,” Mingyu pressed a finger to your lips effectively shutting you up, “We’re here now and we’ll make it work this time.” 

“You promise?”

“I promise.”  

[haiyuta]

|| sugarbaby.com || bang chan

Summary: Struggling college student Y/n is on her last year of college as the bills stack she’s in a tough situation. Her roommate recommends her a website for local sugar daddies. That's where she meets Mr. Bang Chan a producer who is just a nice guy that has a lot of money.  

word count: 5.1k || genre: smut, lots of smut, kissing, dry humping, light choking, praise kink, soft dom chan, like soft, like he’s a caring daddy btw, light barely their daddy kink. 

a/ n: the end plot is so sloppyyyy but I put lots of plot and love and smut this could be better but its 5k of hard work so enjoy yall~

Chewing on your lip you eyed the website your finger hovering on and off the signup button.

Sugarbabys.com the website read on the front page in a quote read "where sugar babies meet high-quality Sugar daddies".

Taking your finger away you gave it a thought all the scenarios going through your head. What if it didn't go well? What if the men were creepy? Your friend already gave you tips 'meet in a public place' 'only if you want to you have to' things like that.

Your bank account was desperate though. Between school and working, you were left with little money. Lingering in the back of your brain you knew you couldn't the reality of having to borrow more money from your friend making you cringe.

Were you desperate enough for money to even sign up for this site? It was something you considered before knowing a few girls who used the website your roommate included for a while until she got what she wanted her debt paid off.

'Its easy just sign up it couldn't hurt' she explained to you. You grimaced it could hurt the many thoughts popped up in your head bad and good.

Your finger hovered over the signup button with great reluctance decided to sign up. Entering your email and information you looked at the rules. It was simple enough the men contacted you based on profiles near them. They recommend you do a date in public for safety reasons etc.

Some of the profile content was questions like the financial level you needed and what you could provide and some small information about yourself.

Your fingertips hovered over the keys writing some info about yourself.

"Hello I'm a graduating student soon with ambitions to join the workforce soon financial help would be the main  and I am very open with new options and experiences"

Finishing off with some fun facts age and a pretty picture your friend took of you. etc you clicked the finished profile you sat back looking at the website shaking your head you closed your laptop work was going to be early tomorrow.

You didn't check the website but a lingering message sat in your inbox.

As the week went on it a few messages popped in your inbox with a variety of guys some seeking immediate sex for money, some promising you the world but then there was one message.

Bang: Hello I'm sure you got many messages you're very pretty I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date with me. I'll pay of course and see if we are matchable. If not just ignore this.

The message made you quirk your eyebrow it felt real and raw in a way the others didn't. And with no picture, you decided to go and message 'Bang' back.

You: Thanks for messaging me I would love to just send your phone number and I'll talk to you more.

Nerves in your stomach grew as you waited for his message. A night went by until his reply.

Bang: Thanks so much here's my number can't wait to talk to you more :)

You've been texting back and forth with Chan for a week till he scheduled a date setting a date that was good for both of you.

You were nervous your stomach turned with butterflies, the restaurant you were in was a fancy Italian restaurant downtown it had deep mood lighting with a clean crisp look to it.

"May I help you," the hostess gave a kind smile.

Shifting in your tight black dress your own but the gold necklace with a nice handbag were thanks to your roommate.  "Um yes," you said nervously "I have a dinner date with Mr. Bang," you said.

Looking at the list she nodded "oh yes he's waiting for you," she said leading you to the back.

Walking through the restaurant your stomach twisted leading towards the table. Questions ran through your mind. Why were you even doing this? It was to late to back down now you thought.

"Here you go," she gestured to the table. Laying your eyes on him you were slightly taken aback at his appearance. He was handsome.

Looking up from his phone a handsome smile lit his face. Slipping the device into his pocket he got up quickly.

"Let me," he gave a sheepish laugh moving toward you. The smell of his cologne filled your senses it was nice really nice.

"Thank you," you said sitting putting your loaned clutch on the table. Drinking in his features you noted he had sandy blond hair, deep dimples, and perhaps an accent. Dressed simply in a black button-up and black jeans expensive chan sat handsomely on his neck.

An awkward silence filled the table until he chuckled "I'm sorry I didn't even introduce myself I use Mr. Bang on my profile but you can call me Chan," he said. Yup, definitely an accent you noted.

His friendly smile radiated causing you to let a small smile "I'm Y/n thank you for taking me out". More like thanks for messaging me and taking me to a restaurant normally college boys would take you out to the best they could do. A local taco joint close to the university which was amazing but you did yearn for something romantic.

"You were beautiful I had to," he flirted with a charming smile. Stomach knotting at the word beautiful and how his foreign accent whispered them out.

"Thank you," you beamed shifting in your seat. The more you talked to him the more comfortable you became with him.

"So, you work in the music industry," you asked wanting to get to know him. Quickly thinking of his profile on the website. Young, producer and money to spend. The website though matched you and you couldn't directly message them until they choose you. Chan would be snatched up quickly if any sugar baby could choose.

"I do I'm a producer I also sing and rap a bit," he explained, "its something I like to do a lot" he added.

"That sounds like a lot of fun," you giggled poking at your food already full from the soup and salad but wanting more.

"It's long hours of editing and writing music," he perked up his eyebrow you noted he had a small cut in his eyebrow. "Hearing my music be sung by artist and people loving my lyrics is all worth it."

"But it's my passion but sadly my passion is mostly inside so it's hard to meet people," he explained eyeing you.

"May I ask why a guy like you would be on a sugar baby website," you said hoping you weren't overstepping your boundary. "I mean not that you can't be on these sites," you quickly blurted out feeling warm at the question you asked.

He laughed a little "I'm not a 40-year-old businessman with a wife and kids," he smirked out.

"Kind of," you trailed off staring at him.

"Well some of my friends were doing it recently saying they met some great people," he said "I also like showering my girl with money might as well see if this will work." he finished.

"Ah okay," you hummed eating some food.

"I'm just a nice guy who has a lot of money," he grinned his cheeky dimple popping out.

You snorted at the comment "wow," you laughed a little.

"Sorry was that cringy," he gave a sheepish smile.

You nodded covering your mouth trying not to laugh out loud.

"Anyway what about you," he asked.

You explained a bit about yourself adding what he needed to know you were almost out of college the struggle to finish was getting harder. He understood explaining he came to Korea from Australia looking for a fresh start. He found his talent when he sold one of his songs for the first time. You were shocked that it was called "Why so lonely" a classic a song that use to be on your freshman playlist every day.

The experience was new but something you would soon treasure a good conversation a lovely meal and getting money for it.

"Did you like the meal," he asked eyeing you placing his black card in his wallet writing down a quick tip.

"It was amazing," you gave a gentle smile. A little bummed this dinner had to end. Also anticipating if he wanted to continue this.

"May I drive you home," he asked giving you his arm. You smiled nodding slipping your arm through his arm.

The small private parking lot on the side as you browsed the expensive cars till you landed on his BMW with admiration a beautiful car that fit his aesthetic. Playful yet luxurious. Sliding into his car you shivered at the cold leather seats.

"Where do you live," he asked.

"Student apartments right next to the university," you explained "just that general area," you said hitting yourself of how dumb you sounded.

The car ride had light chatting he played some music from he wrote. You were shocked to find out it had some of your favorite artists under it. Learning he did some music for a trio group named 3racha.

Coming up to your apartment you sighed glancing at him "thank you so much," you paused letting out a soft "sir" at the end of it.

A moment passed over the both of you until Chan let out a laugh "Sir," a deep cute laugh.

A blush went to your cheeks at his laugh"You're cute enough you don't have to try okay," he assured his you pressing his hand to your cheek gently.

Your face was warm but his hand felt warmer. "Sorry about that," you said softly cringing at yourself. How natural this felt was amazing.

"May I kiss you," he whispered out his lips so close.

Your eyes connected to his light brown eyes your lips wanting to touch his "please."

It was a swift moment as his lips capturing your own. It was soft as he greedily consumed your kiss you were shocked at how good it was to be kissed.

Pulling gently apart your eyes flickered to his noting his eyes were so warm and deep you could drown in them.

"Um thank you for everything," you said feeling warm and frazzled at him. Opening the car door you could feel your heartbeat a little faster and your mind swirl with want.

"Your welcome baby girl," he winked watching you with as you trailed yourself up the steps and into the apartment building.

Its been a few months since your first date with Chan. Honestly, it felt too good to be true. Soon as got home he texted you some information and the next thing that morning a pretty number with 4 digits now sit in your account.

It took all your will not to scream in a pillow at the money. That's what you make in a month for a date.

As the relationship continued Chan was giving you money for your attention dates, kissing, sex all of the above. Honestly, he could pay you nothing and you would still jump at the opportunity to sleep with him. You shuttered a little thinking of the sex simply put it was amazing.

Some basic rules were gently inforced. 1. You or have the right to end it at any time 2. Stressed the fact that this was an exclusive relationship. Light rules but Chan was very laidback.

Currently, you were in a store way too expensive well use to be way too expensive picking out a dress that would look good for this event with Chan. "This one," you hummed walking out in a cream-colored dress. It hugged your ass but the color was sort of off-putting.

Chan sitting on the seat in the private dress area leaning back his hair messy and untamed with a touch of curls. Your fingers always itched to touch those curly locks.

"I don't love it," he hummed eyeing you up and down. "Just the color it looks amazing on you though," he grinned. Sitting next to a pile of dresses that you both didn't like very much.

You frown this was the fifth dress you've tried but to be honest you didn't love it that much either.

"Okay I have a few more," you bit your lip as you went back to the dressing room. The event was tomorrow night performance of some underground rappers and Chan said he might perform with 3racha if he had time. Being on his arm for this event was important.

You shyly claiming you didn't have many dresses for something like that.

Sipping into the dress that caught your eye the most a deep rose gold dress with just a touch of sparkle. Eyeing yourself you smiled at how the dress fit you the price tag with the glaring 1k on the tag.

Slipping out the dressing room your gazed landed on Chan his eyes ran up and down your body. "Wow," he whispered out getting up to inspect the dress. "Do you like it," he asked placing his hand on your hip.

"I love it," you paused eyeing you and Chan in the mirror admiring how you looked and how he looked next to you. His eyes glazed with lust. "It's pricy though," you hummed looking at the price.

Chan leaned over kissing your temple "you know I'll buy it for you," he grinned pushing his hips closer to you.

"You spoil me," you hummed posing lightly in the mirror. It complimented your skin the way it fell made you feel utterly amazing.

"You look beautiful," he said pressing his body against yours. His chin resting atop your head as he stared at your dress in the mirror. You giggled at the reflection. He looked at you with an admiring lust-filled look. You perked up when you felt his bulge pressing against your ass.

Glancing at him through the mirror his deep brown eyes basically told you what he wanted. You've had sex with Chan before and to say the least you would fuck this man for free. You were just lucky enough he was paying your tuition with a sweet payday every other Friday.

You pushed your ass into him feeling his eagerness waiting for you. "We shouldn't," you hummed glancing at him. Leaning over he hummed his lips connecting with your neck. You sighed at the kisses leaning away for more access.

"We just need to be quiet," he whispered in your ear. Grabbing your hand he lead you to the small bench settling you on his lap.

His lips captured yours hungrily your mouths moved in a gentle rhythm. Pulling away Chan looked at you grabbing your exposed thigh placing you across his jeans. "Come on baby we don't want to wrinkle this beautiful dress up," he said pushing the dress up.

A small mew slipped out of you at the feeling of Chan lightly bouncing his leg. Wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself you moaned as he added more pressure to your clothed slit.

Your body was heating up at the feeling "come on baby girl," Chan whispered in your ear. Biting your lip you squeezed your eyes closed feeling your stomach twisting at the sensation. God, he got you off so good your mind raced with want.

Clenching your thighs around his you gave a soft moan as you rocked against his leg. The lewd act of humping his leg made your stomach twist with want.

Chan let out a light chuckle you gave him a small embarrassed glare at your current position. "Don't pout you look adorable," he gave a small smirk. "We better finish this off before we are found," he grinned as he proceeded to bounce his leg.

You were already damp as it seeped into Chan's black jeans. Pushing your head into his neck you let out small whimpers as you got closer to the edge. Ready to fall any moment but Chan holding you so tight you never wanted to let go. Pushing down on his thigh you gave a deep moan as you desperately humped his leg.

Leaning over you placed your lips moaning in the kiss. Your eyes twisted shut as waves of heat rolled down your body.

Chan pressed his lips hard against you as you sloppy kissed him. You came down from your high it took a moment but you felt Chan hand run up and down your back.

Biting your lip you gazed up at him giving him a light smile "we should get out of here," you hummed pushing your dress back down and getting up,

You lightly grimaced at his leg with had a decent size wet mark on them. "Fuck sorry," you said also eyeing his bulge.

He hummed grabbing your hand "don't worry about it lets just buy the dress and go back to my place," giving you a wink.

Your stomach stirred thinking of going to his house with him laying in his bed as he pushed your deep into his sheets "Let's," you grinned eagerly.

"How does it look," you asked your roommate coming from your room in the dress you bought last week. It took a dry clean to get the smell of sex from the dress but it still looked clean and new.

Her gaze went from her phone taking a double-take at your dress. "Look at you in that dress," she hummed. Smiling you gave a small twirl the gold shimmering.

"I know I love it so much," you hummed going to the mirror to check your makeup and hair.

"So Y/n how's Chan," she said leaning on the couch her eyebrow raised at you.

"He's good he's taking me to a club tonight," you said.

She nodded "so you don't have feelings for him or anything right," she hummed out looking at you.

Pausing you stared at your eye makeup looking at her through the mirror image you felt your heart leap "of course not he pays me," you told her.

"Yeah I mean your college semester is almost over when will you break it off," she asked. You paused wondering if you would. You did get mostly what you wanted. Clothing, money, your schooling has been paid up to last semester. The thought of breaking it with Chan made your stomach drop.

Before you could answer you heard your phone ring. Grinning you picked it up avoiding your roommates grilling question.

"Hey baby are you ready," Chan spoke.

Glancing at your makeup and outfit you looked good. Shyly remembering what you did in this dress earlier that week. "Yeah I'm good," you hummed out.

"Great I'm downstairs," he said.

"Okay bye," you said clicking off the phone.

Your roommate was still looking at you "you're like into into him," she commented.

"I'm into his money," you easily lied to yourself. The money was great the clothing, the tuition all was amazing. But Chan as a person he was the best of all the gifts. Repressing these growing thoughts was the best you could do.

"Sure you are," she said pulling out up her Netflix. "Just let me know when you move into with him so I can find a new roommate," she teased.

Rolling your eyes you stuck out your tongue  "will do but won't happen," you said leaving.

"Have a nice night," she called out.

"Thanks," you yelled back leaving. Your stomach turned excited to see Chan. Hurrying downstairs you quickly came outside to see Chan leaning on the side of his car. You eyed him loving his outfit.

"Hey," you grinned going to him wrapping your arms around his neck. Your eyes held his from the told of his dirty blond hair to the way he had a smile chain around his neck and his signature black style.

"Aw you missed me," he grinned a small dimple popping out.

"Always," you flirted back.

Giving you a quick peck he opened the door for you. The drive to the small club was nice his hand firmly on your thigh as he navigated the roads driving up to the club.

"You'll meet some of my friends just fellow producers," he explained. The word date stuck to your brain well you were his date. The words girlfriend would be amazing to hear out his mouth.

"Do your friends have any sugar babies," you asked out the blue. Remembering he told you months ago some of his friends use the site.

He pursed his lips "some do some have two or more," he explained closing the door on the side parking.

Taking his arm nerves bubbled up in your stomach as you entered the low lit club. It was loud with live music on the stage was a male he had dark black hair with deep black makeup and he was rapping.

"That's Jisung he's a close friend and producer," Chan said leading you toward the back. The club was lowkey as people enjoyed the fast rapper on the stage.

"He's really good," you called out to Chan.

He nodded "yeah we are underground rappers are normally producers but we like to stay out of the limelight," he added. "I'll be on stage in a bit hope you'll cheer for me," he grinned.

"Always," you grinned. Sipping on the drink you were introduced to lots of people Felix an upcoming solo artist in the company.

"Time to get on stage baby girl," Chan hummed giving you a light kiss on your lips. His eyes lingered on you for a moment "After my set will get outta here," he said.

"Sounds good," you replied.

Felix stayed next to you as you two chatted while Chan was in the back. "Yeah, Chan told me a lot about you."

You nodded "can I ask about," you asked curiously.

Felix nodded his head "just you're really good for him is what I'm going to say," he explained.

Before you knew it the lights went down once again as Chan got on stage with Jisung and another male "who's that," you asked Felix.

"That's Changbin he is just an underground rapper Chan likes to promote with they call themselves 3racha," he explained.

You watched Chan on stage it was like he was a natural. His smile lit the stage his outfit clean making him look fashionable and handsome. That messy hair was darkening.

Your heart speeds up as you watched his performance him bouncing on stage, the way he hyped up the crowd and his fellow rappers.

Chan never really talked about the performing aspect of this. You were transfixed on the performance the lyrics, his movements it was all amazing. Then cheers filled your ears Chan had a small layer of sweat on his forehead "thank you for coming everyone we have so many new acts tonight please keep a lookout for them," he yelled in the mic.

"They were amazing," you said excitedly.

"Yeah, I love watching them perform," Felix agreed. "It doesn't happen often but when it does it's always great," he praised his friends.

Soon after Chan came back to the table with Jisung and Changbin behind him. A layer of sweat on all of them. "Guys I want you to meet Y/n," he said. "My girlfriend," he said glancing at you for a second.

Your eyes widen at the work girlfriend but decided to act cool "um Hi guys I love your music Chan's showed me some samples," you said.

"Ah thank you so much welcome to our little circle Chan's been meaning to introduce us to you," Jisung said giving a wide smile.

"Has he well my boyfriend is so mean not introducing me to his friends sooner," you side-eyed Chan. You felt Chan wrap his arm around your waist.

"Well we should all get together for some food soon," Felix added.

"That would be great," Chan said slipping his arm around your waist. "Sorry to be rude me and Y/n have to dip," Chan said. Giving his friends a few fist bumps he pulled you out the dark club soon after.

The cool night hit you giving you some much-needed space to breathe. "So Chan girlfriend," you quirked an eyebrow stepping away from his. Your insides turned at the word.

"I'm sorry that just slipped out," he spoke quickly apologizing, a red from the tips of his ears to his cheeks maybe from performing but it made him look different. Vulnerable to you like a confession. "I meant it I'll admit it," he added.

There was a pause as you looked at him and he looked at you. Before you knew it your lips were on his. His plush lips felt so good your heart beating rapidly at his confession and you think you got your answer across. He wrapped his arms around your waist pressing deeply into the kiss.

Pulling apart you gazed up at him he had a handsome smirk on his face. "your place," you bite your lip.

He hummed "I gotta hear it one time," he raised an eyebrow.

"Can my handsome boyfriend take me to his place," you admitted your arms thrown around his neck.

Grabbing his keys he and you hurried to his car. You praised his performance as you rode to his place. His hand now firmly placed entwined in your hand.

Stumbling into his condo you and his lips were attached to one another. Closing the door behind him you giggled as his hand slide through your once neatly curled hair now messy from the night.

Grabbing your hand you lead him to his bedroom it had deep blacks and grey al round. Your lips met in a messy haze of lust.

"Fuck you do things to me," Chan whispered pulling his lips away from you. His fluffy hair was now matted to his forehead attractively from his performance those brown eyes of his blazing with want.  

Sitting on his bed eyeing you from the high ground. "Look what you've done," he chuckled out touching himself. Your fingers itched to unzip him and help him.

"Can I," you asked reaching for his zipper.

"Ask properly," he leaned his hands behind him his hooded eyes stared you down.

"Please daddy," you whined out  On your knees, you unbuttoned his pants revealing Calvin Klein's you loved so much. When you got a peek of those they really set you off.

Slowly touching the hard outline you licked your lips in concentration as you teased him from the base circling around the tip feeling he was wet.

"Fucking hell Y/n," his hips involuntary jerked up to your touch. Your fingers raised under his black tee feeling his solid abs under your fingers tips.

"I love your body," you hummed feeling his stomach circling little shapes right above his waistline.

"Yeah," he stared down at you with hunger loving the praise that you gave him. Something you learned early about Chan is praise could get you a long way. Your nails dragged down his abs loving the feeling of them under your fingertips.

Pulling him out you admired his length. You gave his slick head a small kiss as you gently bobbed.

Chan lifted his hips letting you slip more into his mouth. "Fuck," he moaned as he started to hit the back of your throat.

"Relax your throat Y/n," he said gently brushing your hair. Chan gently rolled his hips deeper in as you relaxed your throat. You lightly choked on it pulling off quickly. You blushed realizing even with the training you couldn't take him very far.

"Sorry," you flushed embarrassed you couldn't even deep throat him.

Pulling you onto the bed Chan's eyes were gentle and lustful. He lightly patted your head lovely "you got better," he hummed. Grabbing your wrist he gently took it placing gentle kisses across your wrist. He stared at you with a smoldering look of want.

Leaning down his mouth attacked your neck you felt so close to him you could hear his heart race just like yours. His dick hard against your thigh so close to your entrance.

"Chan I need you," you moaned in his ear as he left wet kisses across his neck.

Pushing your dress up his fingers went to your panties taking them off "where do you need me," he groaned. His finger went across your slit petting you lightly.

"Right there," you moaned body heating up from the petting. He pulled your hips so close to him "please chan," you hummed desperate him to fill you.

He gave a cheeky smile "no need to beg," his Australian accent deep and thick. He grabbed your leg hiking you up. Hooking your leg around his hip as he entered you. The feeling of him stretching you making you wince as you took him between your folds.

"Ah fuck," he cursed out his face twisting into pleasure. His nose scrunched up in pleasure as his hips rocked into you.

Pushing your head into the pillow you let out mews of pleasure as he gave gentle thrust. The closeness of him in you made your head twirl. "Harder," you panted feeling him almost hitting that sweet spot.  

You felt his hips pace start to pick up as he went deeper. "Ah," you moaned out feeling the tingle of an oncoming orgasm come. You pushed the feeling down trying to savor the feeling of the pleasure.

Looking up at Chan his mouth slightly slacked as he focused on his thrusts fuck he was handsome you thought. A vulnerable look of want and pleasure twisted on his face.

He looked down at you a small smile lit on his lips "you look hot on your back for me." His words made your stomach twist with want and love.

"May I," he hummed his fingers wrapping around your neck. Your stomach tingled with want something about choking made you excited.

"Please," you begged.

Wrapping his hand on the side of your throat made you lick your lip making your head dizzy. Honestly, you didn't know you had a choking kink until Chan introduced you to it.

"Thank you, daddy," you hummed loving the way he pressed lightly on your throat his thumb gently tracing your windpipe. His thrust hit hard as he tightens his hold restricting your breathing.  

"Your welcome baby," he said thrusting into you deeper. Lifting into him you enjoyed the way his body pressed into you.

"I'm close," you moaned out feeling him hit that spot over and over making your eyes roll back.

"Hold your breath baby," he said tightening his hold. His pace got faster as he chased his own orgasm small groans left his lips lovely. "Fuck," he moaned "You feel so good," you moan feeling the sudden warmth of his cum spurt out. The warmth of it pushed you over the edge.

Clutching your leg behind his back black and white spots filled your vision. Chan let out sensual groans as he came down from his high. His hand released your neck as he went to pet your hair. 

Shifting your leg you felt him pull out of you. You bite your lip smiling at the feeling of him pulling you close. 

“Fuck,” he moaned taking off his shirt laying on the silk sheets. You turned to him a grin on his face. 

Wrapping his arm around your midsection he curled up to you. “Chan you smell like sweat,” you whined at the smell. 

“You know you love it,” he grinned as you pushed your face into his curly hair. 

“Mmmhh,” you hummed feeling him pet your head as his fingers up and down your body. 

[tardis-stowaway]

Ten years after the Not-pocalypse, Adam Young, age 21 and recently graduated from university:

-Works in a crappy retail job and lives in a tiny, crappy flat in London

-The crappy flat has no sound insulation, so he’s always hearing the absurd amount of movement from the people in the flat above and the really loud but not quite intelligible conversations from the people in the flat next door. It’s a long way to the nearest public park, and he misses the green of home.

-Is not all that good at his customer service job, with the exception that if a customer is irrationally angry about something, he says he wants to make sure he understands the problem and repeats their complaint back to them with this look in his eyes, and they universally back down and often apologize. His coworkers love him for it. Everything else is just drudgery.

-Single, despite his best efforts. Okay, maybe not his best efforts, but some efforts.

-Knows that his childhood was uncommonly idyllic at least partly due to his powers. He’s not entirely sure how his life went quite so off the rails lately.

-Maybe his powers have faded gradually since he rejected his destiny, or maybe it’s just that on some level he absorbed the expectation that being in one’s early 20’s means being broke and a little lost, and the expectation made it happen whether he wanted it or not.

-Or maybe he just should’ve chosen a more employable course of study at uni instead of comparative religion. In his defense, it seemed relevant to his life.

-Spends much of his free time on climate crisis activism. He’ll be damned (ha) if he stood against the forces of Heaven and Hell, the Four Horsepeople of the Apocalypse, and his own birthright to preserve the continuing existence of humanity on the Earth only for humans to blunder into destroying themselves unintentionally through greed and shortsighted decisions.

-He’s been doing this since he was twelve, when Brian sent the Them’s group text an article about the group Extinction Rebellion with the caption “named for us?? :)” Adam had laughed, then actually read the article. Within a week he’d convinced the Them and a dozen of their classmates to show up at the next town council meeting with a list of sustainability demands.

-No matter how many civil disobedience events he takes part in, he never seems to get arrested. Adam suspects it’s his supernatural entity privilege. Pepper says it’s probably mostly that he’s white and great at charming his way out of trouble.

-He’s still friends with all of the Them, but they don’t live especially close together. He does have a flatmate, an American who Adam met at uni.

-At this point you, a genre-savvy reader of much Good Omens fic and meta, are probably seeing the word “American” and thinking that Adam is flatmates with Warlock Dowling. For once, you are wrong. 

-Adam’s flatmate is Jesus.

-Not Jesus Christ, but a young man named Jesus Dominguez, pronounced the Spanish way (like hay-soos).

-Jesus is from Southern California, and he talks more than a little bit like a surfer stereotype. He’s got warm brown skin, shoulder-length dark hair in perpetually-mussed waves, and a little beard. He’s kinda leaning into the look  to mess with people, but it’s also the same style found on at least a third of the other male-presenting hipsters in London.

-When he learned that he was going to share a flat with someone named Jesus, Adam called Crowley and Aziraphale. He’s never been gladder that he stayed in touch with them, because he NEEDED someone who understood how the Antichrist and Jesus sharing a flat sounded like the setup for a joke or a sitcom. Crowley did indeed laugh out loud, then told Adam that as a fellow lapsed member of the forces of Hell, he could personally recommend sharing quarters with a heavenly adversary. Aziraphale just muttered “oh, stop” at Crowley.

-Adam moved to London because it was easier to get to the important protests there, and because he was curious. He spent the first six months desperately homesick for Tadfield. The city was so crowded but somehow he still felt so alone, other than Jesus.

-Then a midnight fire-alarm in their building sent him and Jesus into the streets along with dozens of their neighbors. Adam finally met the people in the flat above theirs who made all that moving around noise. They were an older couple who took ballroom dancing lessons at the senior center and liked to practice at home. Mrs. Kapoor tried to teach Adam how to foxtrot right there on the pavement in the middle of the night. He stepped on her feet, but since he was in bare feet and she’d actually taken the time to find shoes it wasn’t a big deal.

-Meanwhile Jesus was finally talking to the loud young men from next door. By the time Adam wandered over, Jesus had learned their names (Leon, Seamus, and Nazim) and secured an invitation for the two of them to come over to watch Saturday’s football match, and to join their next D&D campaign (“just no more  paladins,” said Nazim). Adam looked forward to finding out whether it was the D&D or the football that was the cause of more yelling.

-As the evacuation stretched on with no hint of either actual fire or clearance to go back inside, the building’s children began to get fussy. Adam found a coin on the ground (successfully picking it up, because Crowley didn’t make it to this neighborhood very often) and proceeded to distract them with stage magic.

-He initially learned stage magic from Aziraphale, but he’s better at it than the angel ever was. He hardly cheats physical reality at all. The kids love it.

-When the fire department finally gives them the clearance to go back inside, Adam’s stomach rumbles. “Is anyone else hungry?,” he asks, to a chorus of agreement. It’s too late for any nearby takeout, but Jesus chats with their neighbors about options.

-Jesus enlists Adam’s help in going from flat to flat gathering ingredients from everyone, and before long they’re serving fish tacos and grilled cheese sandwiches to a small crowd of pajama-clad people. It’s 2 am, but everyone is smiling, or at least has contentment at the edge of their yawns.

-The next day, Mrs. Kapoor brings Adam and Jesus a spider plant cutting, because she thought their flat looked too bare. Adam texts a picture of it to Crowley and receives back lengthy instructions on watering, pot size, soil, and the most effective threats for the species.

-Five months later, the local planning council has an intense debate about why crime rates in one neighborhood have dropped by 75% since their last meeting. They each try to claim credit for their pet civic projects. Actually, it’s because Adam Young has started to love London, or at least his nook of it.

-Buskers soon realize that certain tube stops are generating far more tips than they ever have before, with no obvious demographic shift accounting for the change. The common ground is that these are the stops on Adam’s commutes to work and his activist meetings. He can only occasionally spare a tip himself, but his enjoyment of the music is contagious.

-Even after the breakthrough, not every day is good. On a late summer day that just happens to be the anniversary of the day the world didn’t end, Adam comes home from a protest fuming.

-“Dude, you okay?” asks Jesus, looking up from his guitar. (Jesus sometimes goes to protests with Adam, but not usually the ones where they’re planning on breaking laws. “I’m a brown-skinned foreigner, man. Do you think I’ll get away with what you get away with? I’m not ready for that yet,” he says, and Adam can’t argue.)

-“The media barely showed up at our event, probably because it was about a million degrees and even though that’s exactly what we’re protesting, nobody wants to be out in it. Six of our people passed out from the heat and three got arrested. They still didn’t arrest me, but I got pushed over and cracked my phone screen. On my way home, some drunk on the tube vomited on my shoes. Our green jobs bill still doesn’t have the votes in Parliament, and have you seen the latest news on the Antarctic ice sheets?” Adam kicks off his shoes, then collapses dramatically onto the futon and groans.

-“Sounds rough,” says Jesus.

-“I should’ve just ended the damn world when I was eleven and I had the chance. Would’ve been quicker,” Adam mutters.

-Jesus gets up and goes to the kitchen. He brings Adam a beer. “You don’t mean that, bro,” he says.

-Adam sighs, accepting the beer. “I suppose not.”

-He drinks his beer. Dog, now grey-muzzled and slow, shuffles over to curl up at his feet. Adam pulls out his phone, which is cracked but still seems functional. He’s got a text from Aziraphale.

-“Dear Adam,” the text begins, because Aziraphale might have finally deigned to learn to text but he steadfastly refused to adopt its stylistic conventions, “I hope that you have returned safely from today’s protest. I’m very proud of your continuing efforts, and though he won’t admit it I know that Crowley feels the same. Please write back at your earliest convenience. Fondly, Aziraphale”

-Adam texts back to reassure the angel, who will doubtless pass it on to Crowley, then he texts similar reassurances to his parents and to Mrs. Kapoor upstairs. He’s still figuring out this adulthood thing, but he’s got a lot of parental figures looking out for him. His Infernal Bio-Dad isn’t one of them, and that’s the way Adam likes it.

-Through the open window comes the sound of music blasting from a car stuck in traffic below. Freddie Mercury and David Bowie are singing:

And love dares you to care for the people on the edge of the night, And love dares you to change our way of caring about ourselves.

-He turned down the chance to rule the world, and he’d make the same choice again, but he still feels a certain proprietary responsibility towards the planet and its inhabitants. His father—his real, earthly father—didn’t raise him to shirk responsibility, and he’s not one to cave under pressure.

-Life is hard, people are mostly idiots, and the world is coming apart at the seams, but it’s his messed up life and his idiotic people and his beautiful, half-broken world.

[shinidamachu]

Ours

Summary: The stakes are high. The water's rough. But this love is ours. Word Count: 10.816 Genre: Fluff? Angst? Who’s to say? Certainly not me, the author. Fandom: InuYasha Pairing: Inukag Format: oneshot AO3 Link: 🌹 Fanfic.Net Link: 🌹

“Sota, put this thing away. I won’t ask you again.”

“Fine!” The teenager let out in exasperation, putting the phone back into the confinement of his pocket.

His grandpa was making him lose his mind. In the interlude of fifteen minutes, the old man had managed to rant about how kids these days always had their faces stuffed into some kind of screen twice.

The bit about damaging the sight and going blind by the age of thirty-five because of it? A lecture all of its own.

“In my time,” he began, making Sota fight the urgency to groan, “we treated the elderly with respect and behaved at the table. It’s a sacred moment!”

“We’re not even eating, anyway! Kagome and her stupid boyfriend are late.”

“Sota! Manners!” Intervened his mom. “We don’t want InuYasha to think Kagome’s family is made up of inconsiderate barbarians, do we?”

Sota rolled his eyes, but remained silent. It was gonna be a long night.

There they were, in Earth’s lamest restaurant, waiting for his sister to arrive with her new boyfriend, who, going with the odds, was probably a goody-two-shoes nerd, just like that Hojo guy.

There was no one his age within the radius of a mile.

He was starving.

And to top it all off, bored to death.

It wasn’t like Sota didn’t love his family. He really did. Besides, seeing Kagome again was something he was looking forward to. Since she had moved out for medical school, they hadn’t spent much time together and although the boy would never admit it, he had quite missed their daily bickering.

He just wished they could met at home, in company of his TV and video games, where he could actually avoid his grandpa’s constant scolding in the holy peace of his bedroom.

“Look! Look, look, look, look, look.” As if on cue, the man in question elbowed Sota’s arm, coaxing him to eye the restaurant entrance. He silently snorted, wondering why his grandpa felt the annoying need to repeat the same word grumpier and more demanding each time. Didn’t he know Sota could hear him just fine from the first one? Nevertheless, wanting to get it over with, the boy did as he was told. A silver haired gentleman stayed awkwardly in the middle of the entryway, his attention torned between the salon and the outside. Even from afar, his demonic heritage stood out, but the dog ears crowning his head wasn’t the only remarkable feature he carried. “See his arms? What a disgrace, to dishonor his own body like that. I pray you, my boy, that you never inflict such disappointment on your old grandfather. I couldn’t bear the pain of seeing my only grandson grow into mafia scum.”

Sota didn’t respond the overdramatic affirmation. He was wonderstruck.

In spite of the anxiety the guy irradiated, he still looked pretty cool, dressed on dark jeans and an elegant white shirt. He had his sleeves rolled up to the biceps, displaying an impressive amount of tattoos. They covered all of the skin, from his wrists to his forearms, possibly ending at the shoulders. It was hard to make out the different shapes, given the distance, but every single one was drawn in black ink.

“Stop staring, you two.” Sang his mom. And Sota was about to obey.

But then, in entered his sister.

Kagome clung to the tattooed, supposedly criminal man, causing him to relax on the spot as her gaze scanned the room.

When the girl finally found them, her face lighted up in an excited smile. She said what, reading her lips, Sota interpreted as ‘there they are’ before taking him by the hand and heading right to their suddenly silent table.

It seemed that the night wouldn’t pass by without its share of emotions, after all.

“InuYasha,are you ready? I don’t want to be late!”

The hanyou sighed in front of the mirror. Did she mean finished with dressing up ready or psychologically ready? It didn’t matter. The answer was no for both.

InuYasha had tried on almost every clothe he had. It served him right for letting piles and more piles of worn-out band t-shirts compose his wardrobe.

His mother had a point. He could definitely use a little makeover.

Every piece felt either too ordinary or too odd, so InuYasha gave up and went back to the button-down shirt he had put first — one of the few decent things he had to wear.

Now closed in their bathroom, determined to pay his mother’s atelier a visit as soon as possible and obsessively aligning the outfit, he couldn’t help but think the reflection staring back didn’t look like him at all.

“Actually, can we reschedule?”

“No way!” Squeaked his girlfriend, her steps louder and louder in her approach. “We’ve been postponing this for too long. Okay, I’m coming in!” She announced, opening the door at once.

“Whatever happened to privacy?”

“It moved out when I moved in.” His girlfriend threw him her best heart stopping smirk and walked in his direction. “Don’t you look gorgeous?”

“Keh. You always say that.” And he had yet to hear it without blushing.

“It’s always true.” Kagome wrapped her arms around his neck. With the extra inches the heels provided, she was nearly his height and her rose lips hovered temptingly within the reach of his. “Won’t you get hot on this shirt, though? We’re in the middle of summer.”

“I’ll be fine!” InuYasha burst out before he could bite back his tongue. Kagome considered him attentively, her narrowed eyes growing wide in realization.

“You’re hiding the tattoos, aren’t you?”

InuYasha looked away.

“I want them to like me.”

It was a difficult enough task to achieve. Being a half breed, he was despised by demons and feared by humans — apparently his ears, fangs and claws, not to mention the unusual color of his eyes and hair, were a lot for them to take in. The absolute last thing InuYasha needed was for her family to think he was some sort of delinquent too. Which, of course, they would.

He figured, since people would be afraid of him either way, he might as well took it to his advantage and do whatever he wanted, consequences be damned. As a result, whoever wasn’t scared of his demon blood sure pissed their pants at the sight of his tattoos, taking him for a criminal. InuYasha couldn’t care less. There was a good amount of fights against human opponents he won that way.

But that was before her.

Not caring is easier when you have nothing to lose.

InuYasha didn’t doubt his actions would blow up on his face, eventually. It was all they ever did. But never, not even in a million years, he could have predicted Kagome. Now consequences were here to bite him in the ass.

Her folks had plenty to unpack the way it was. At least with the tattoos he could do something about.

“InuYasha…” Her slender fingers caressed his chin, demanding his focus entirely for herself. He complied. “You don’t have to do this. I want you to be yourself.” She grabbed his right arm and rolled the sleeve all the way up, revealing the intricate mosaic of figures, doodles and forms he collected along the last decade. “They are going to love you.”

“Easy for you to say, now that my family worships the ground you walk on.”

It had only taken a mild sunday lunch. By the end of it, Kagome had Mr. and Mrs. Taisho eating from the palm of her hand, just like she had their son. That was the day his mother had furtively handed him the engagement ring she inherited from her mother, claiming Kagome was the one he should give it to when the right moment comes. There was no falter from his part.

A month had passed, Kagome and his mom texted one another on a daily basis, and the damn thing still weighed deep inside his pocket. InuYasha carried it with him everywhere, waiting for the perfect occasion and concerned that she might find it if he left it lying around.

“Well, worship is such a strong word...” Said Kagome, doing with his left sleeve the same thing she did with the other, but this time allowing herself to trace the black marks of his arm, lingering on the newest, the little sakura flower InuYasha had gotten solely for her. He raised his eyebrows. “Okay, maybe your parents do it a little bit, but your brother hates my guts. You gotta give me that.”

“Nah, Sesshoumaru hates everyone. You ain’t special.”

“Huh… Thanks?”

InuYasha smiled at her adorable grimace, but it was short lived.

“What if they don’t? Like me, I mean.”

Both of them knew it was a real possibility.

If they were being honest, they hated each other at the beginning themselves. Most of it, undoubtful, due to repressed sexual attraction. Still, they were constantly jumping at each other’s throats before starting to jump at each other’s bones.

Attracting and repelling like magnets, they have been through a crazy amount of screaming, crying and slamming doors. Once it was clear that what they had was much more than sex, the need had risen to protect that love at all costs.

They had to.

Every odd was against them.

He was a half demon. Most people hated him at worse and tolerated at best — and that had a lot to do with his family’s money, Kagome being one of the uncommon exceptions. In fact, she was the exception to essentially every rule he had.

She was also a human. No, not only a human. That would be too easy. The girl was a priestess. Her family was responsible for a fucking shrine.

Their relationship was the epitome of taboo.

So they had kept it on the low for as long as they could, adopting a discreet profile even after she moved in with him. They didn’t want to risk it, didn’t want to jinx it. It wasn’t worth it.

Their love was theirs and theirs alone, too precious to fall into the cruel claws of the world.

It was a shame it couldn’t stay that way forever.

Sooner or later they would have to leave the safe heaven inside those walls and he was terrified of finding out whether or not they could take it.

Kagome’s kindness, her unprejudiced beliefs... They had to come from somewhere, and she affirmed it was from her family. How would her folks react, however, once those beliefs were put to the test? InuYasha learned from experience that, sometimes, people struggled to stick to their morals the second they stopped being convenient.

“Then it will be just another bump on the road. What’s one more?”

Her hands flew to undo his top button — and nothing more. Tensing involuntarily when her digits contacted the exposed skin, InuYasha let out a shaky breath as she retreated to explore his chest over the shirt, shamelessly going lower.

“Weren’t you the one in a hurry just now?”

“I am.” She defied.

“I’m not.”

InuYasha placed his hands on her waist and pressed her against the nearest wall. He couldn’t help it, not after the things she said. Especially when she said them with that dress on — light blue, contrasting with the darkness of her hair, the skirt hugging her waistline, widening at the bottom. No sleeves. Only provocative, unbelievably thin straps. So different from her everyday white clothes.

It was his favorite and he had no doubt it was intentional.

“InuYasha…”

Her mouth was off limits. InuYasha knew better than to mess up her makeup mere minutes away of such important event. Her neck, on the other hand…

“Don’t you look gorgeous?” He asked, nose burying on her skin.

“Uh, uh. D-don’t you sweet talk me.” Kagome tilted her head, giving him unrestrained access and grabbing a handful of his hair as he hooked her leg around him, fingers lifting her skirt up, venturing further and further.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” She was limp in his embrace. InuYasha recognized by instinct when his body was the only thing preventing hers from melting to the ground.

“We… We’re doing this.”

“I know.” He eagerly kissed her collarbone, downing to the start of the cleavage. 

“It’s just a harmless dinner...” She was panting now, nails traveling through his back, applying sufficient pressure to make quite the damage had he been naked. InuYasha went up her throat, his tongue wandering free.

“Hmmm.”

“...And then… T-then we’ll go... to my childhood house.” Kagome paused and he knew it was to hold back a moan as he relentlessly kissed his way up to her chin and jawline, finding destination at her earlobe. “You’ll get…” He bit it. “... T-to see my old bedroom,” bargained her. InuYasha smirked.

“I’m listening,” he whispered, returning to her neck. InuYasha had every intention to suck on the inviting flesh until it left a mark, but restrained himself. Something told him her family wouldn’t be fond of it.

His resolve not to claim her lips, though, were increasingly fading. Whatever. Better beg for her taste now and for her forgiveness later.

Reading his thoughts — as she often did —, Kagome gently pushed him away. Good. Their proximity, allied with the escalating scent of her arousal, wasn’t making them any favors in the ‘getting out of the house’ department.

“Come on,” she tapped his hand, subtly pleading for him to release her leg, a lead that InuYasha followed with extreme reluctance. He observed as his girlfriend regained composure. The fingers that not long ago were mapping, grasping and scratching every inch of him now fixed the dress strap he had no memory of pulling down. To a newcomer, it would look as if nothing had ever happened. “We’ll have a wonderful time.”

“To be fair, I was having a wonderful time just now.”

“Oh, I can tell you were. That’s exactly why we better get going.”

“Fine.” InuYasha sighed, letting himself be dragged out of their bathroom as she giggled at his less than thrilled disposition.

And there was something about her laughter — so vibrant and carefree — that, combined with the welcome comfort of her hand on his, made InuYasha feel invincible. Having Kagome by his side was like entering the boxe ring already ten points ahead.

“Do you want to go through the basics again?”

Crossing the living room, InuYasha recited his mental notes without missing a beat, the perfect picture of an A+ student, even if for the most part of his life, he had been a solid C+.

“Don’t swear. Don’t bring up your father. Don’t mention we live together.”

“Good! Unless...” Kagome stopped and turned to him. Half hesitant, half hopeful. “Do you think I should tell mom I moved here?”

InuYasha was conflicted. It was only fair that she did. His parents had heard the news the day she brought all of her stuff in. And in spite of knowing he’d give her the world if she so wished, Kagome never asked for much.

Yet, he was scared. Scared that Mrs. Higurashi disapproved the arrangement. Scared she would tell her daughter to leave.

What, then?

He had forgotten how his apartment — their apartment — used to be before the bright colors and pout-porris. Before the plants, the second toothbrush on the sink, the pictures frames and the intoxicating scent her body left all over the sheets.

And he didn’t want to remember.

According to Kagome, however, her mother was an understanding, open-minded woman, who put her children’s happiness above everything else. Which certainly  worked in his favor, since InuYasha had turned making Kagome happy into his daily mission and, modesty aside, he believed to be doing a pretty damn good job so far.

InuYasha starred at their fingers, still interlocked, and reminded to be brave.

“If you feel like you should...”

“I do! I honestly do. We used to tell every little thing to each other. I miss that.”

“Then go ahead.”

“Really?” She thanked him with a tight hug, her palpable excitement coming off her in a giant wave that almost washed all of his doubts away. Almost. 

“What about the others?”

“Sota is a child, it’s not of his business.”

“And your grandfather?”

Kagome moved within his embrace, revealing pursed lips when she did.

“Yeah... He’ll definitely need more time. Let’s give it three to five years!”

A surprised laugh left his lips when he saw the truth behind the joke.

“You’re freaking out about telling him, aren’t you?”

“Am not!”

“You totally are!” He said, deflecting from the fact that he, too, was panicking and that waiting five years or more to have that talk was actually a very appealing idea.

“It’s just… He can be a tad traditional sometimes.”

“Awesome!” InuYasha said, with every drop of sarcasm he could gather. “We both know I’m all about traditions.”

Smiling, she reached for his hand again.

“Shall we?”

They call it ripple effect. It’s the situation in which one event produces a certain impact, inevitably spreading and producing further consequences. The concept usually comes with the classic example of throwing a rock in a steady pond, which InuYasha thought fitting. Whenever the half demon first stepped into a crowd of strangers, he pretty much felt like that rock.

Heads would turn straight to him in cascade. Surprise. Terror. Disgust. Condescension. Pity. As years went by, he had gotten it all.

Be as it may, soon enough the staring would abruptly get directed anywhere else and be replaced with whispers they didn’t know he could hear. Eventually, the waters would settle, but after the initial contact, the pond could never go back to the way it was. Neither could the rock.

His father had taught him to keep his chin up no matter what. The hatred of lesser men was an irrelevant price to pay for being unique. He should be proud of who he is. His mother had told him not to seek validation from others when he already had people who loved and cared for him unconditionally. Those were the guidances InuYasha religiously lived by. Still, sometimes, the hanyou wished he was allowed to just be. 

That night was surely the case.

The restaurant was crowded. It should be, in such a busy hour. The habitual glaring didn’t go unnoticed by InuYasha when he walked in — it bore holes on his flesh and broke into his bones. As usual, he brushed it off.

His focus oscillated like the flames inside the ornamental lanterns that provided warmth to the place in shades of red, orange and yellow.

Before him, undistinguished buzz raised above the background music and the pervasive smell of food served as a cruel reminder that he hadn’t put anything in his stomach since lunch. The lights, the sounds, the people, the scents. It was an overwhelming sensation to contemplate it all. In another day, in a calmer state of mind, he would have spotted her family in a heartbeat. Kagome, the loving daughter she was, had shown him enough pictures of them for the task to be a child’s play. Still, he didn’t dare to look. Not yet. Not when he was so unsure of what he might find written all over their faces. The same phrases on different pages.

Behind him, a delighted Kagome chatted in the staircase with the woman she had introduced as her middle school history professor. InuYasha had promptly forgotten her name. In no mood for engaging the conversation and wanting to save all of his small talk for dinner, he had politely excused himself, opting for walking ahead while the two of them reminisced.

Obviously, he had underestimated her communication skills, because a considerable amount of time had passed until Kagome caught up to him. Her arm tangled up with his quite easily. All at once, everything was gone, reduced to the speck of dust they were. There was only Kagome, searching the room in concentration. And there was only him, dazed by the smile that accommodated so well on her face, by the colors dancing on her cheeks and lights glittering on her eyes.

“There they are!” Kagome announced, breaking the spell.

His throat went completely dry. On his brain, sirens ran off, telling him to run for his life. How disappointed would she get if he grabbed her and fled? InuYasha also wondered, in vain, what the opponents he had faced would think, if they discovered what a coward the man who had ruthlessly knocked them out truly was. Kagome guided him towards the table where her family awaited, dispelling the intrusive thoughts away.

“Sorry we’re late!” She sat down and so did InuYasha, taking the free spot by her side. “We got caught up in traffic.”

“That’s alright, honey.” Mrs. Higurashi reassured with a tone as sweet as her smile. “I’m just glad you’re here now. We’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too. So much!” She replied, drinking each component of her family in, as if to carve their features into her memory so she might have something to hold onto until they met again. After a brief pause, Kagome kicked off the introductions. “Everyone, this is InuYasha. InuYasha, this is my family.”

Her grandfather was a perfect materialization of the pictures InuYasha had seen, with his wrinkled skin, grey hair and stoic expression. Her mother, too, matched up his expectations. The woman portrayed an effortless type of beauty, all dimples and heart-shaped face framed by wavy, short brown hair.

It was Sota who surprised him the most.

From Kagome’s descriptions, InuYasha was under the impression the boy would be way smaller than he actually was — although he was small, considering he was still a child. The half demon couldn’t decide if Kagome was oblivious to Sota’s growth due to her crazy student schedule or if it was her big sister bias that affected her judgement, but it was clear that Sota was gonna be taller than her in the near future. The boy also looked very clever for his age — even to someone in InuYasha’s case, who knew little to nothing about kids — and stared at him with something suspiciously close to expectancy.

InuYasha cleared his throat.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“The reciprocal is hardly true.” Whipped a dissonant baritone, so rigid it cut the air. “I haven’t heard much of you, that’s for sure and certain.”

There was no naivety left on InuYasha to believe the lack of reciprocity the man mentioned had anything to do with whether Kagome had told them detailed stories about her new boyfriend or not.

Apparently, Mrs. Higurashi had picked up on how shallow his last sentence sounded as well, because she was quick to swoop in and smooth things over.

“You were, indeed, a mystery, InuYasha.”

“I told you why.” Intervened Kagome, in an apologizing tone. “We were still figuring things out.”

“Well, if you two are done with figuring things out, can we please eat?” Sota retorted. InuYasha had no complaints there. Unfortunately, the elderly man interrupted them with the unapologetic conviction of someone who wasn’t aware a conversation was being had, or that simply didn’t care.

“Are you a Yakuza member?”

It didn’t go unnoticed by the hanyou that the man had addressed him twice without calling his name once. Nonetheless, the question was absolutely directed to InuYasha. Even if the word ‘Yakuza’ wasn’t instantly associated with the tattoos he carried, there were other indications. The abrupt silence that followed, one step away from a cliff of awkwardness, for instance. Or the hawk eyes of Kagome’s grandfather, studying his every move.

Luckly, he had warned his girlfriend in advance something like that could happen. More often than not, it did. To the point where he was used to it. And as much as she didn’t like it, he resolved to brush it off, at least for the night.

“Because of the tattoos?” He asked, playing dumb. “I get that a lot, but no. I just think they’re cool.” InuYasha shrugged, then felt the uncontrollable need to over explain himself: “The tattoos, I mean. Not the mafia.”

That earned him a laugh from Sota and a chuckle from Mrs. Higurashi. Kagome and her grandfather didn’t find it so funny.

“Grandpa, tattoos are very common thing all around the world! Don’t you think if everyone who had one was a Yakuza member, we’d be in serious trouble by now?” InuYasha observed her spit the acid comeback, thrown off to see their parts inverted. Usually, he was the one starting fires left and right and she was the placid source of water that always put them down. Again, the man ignored it.

“Then what do you do for a living?”

InuYasha almost smirked. That was precisely the sort of cliche interrogatory he was expecting — no, that he was wishing. After walking on so many eggshells, they were finally entering known territory and, as he felt the firm path of a parents pleaser answer forming under his feet, his confidence boosted.

“I’m majoring in business administration. My father wants my brother and I to learn as much as we can, if we’re gonna run the family company someday.”

It was extremely satisfying to watch the guy trying and failing to come up with any judgemental thing to say. His mouth sealed into a thin line.

“But what InuYasha really wants is to be a boxer.”

His head snapped to Kagome, astonished that she would turn him in there and then. The girl was not kidding when she demanded him to be himself.

“No way!” Sota exclaimed the words in the precise way his sister did when she was excited.

“Isn’t this dangerous, dear?” Mrs. Higurashi was genuine concerned. Her cinnamon irises studied him carefully, as if already searching for wounds. It reminded him of his own mother.

“Actually, InuYasha is undefeated.” Kagome replied for him, not bothering to hide the pride tone in her voice. 

So it’s chill when you brag about it, but when I do, I’m a cocky jerk. He amused, simultaneously deciding it sounded better when she did, anyway.

“Awesome! How come I have never seen you fight on TV?”

At Sota’s crescent interest, InuYasha answered in a bursting of atypical modesty.

“I didn’t get there just yet.”

“I’m sure it’s a matter of time.” Encouraged Mrs. Higurashi. Kagome’s grandfather scoffed. “I must ask you, though: how did you two met?”

“My sister isn’t the most athletic of girls.” Agreed Sota.

“I can’t believe I missed you.” The girl fired back.

“That’s true. But I can tell you first hand that she’s got a mean right hook.”

Her brother was thrilled. Her mom, not so much.

“She punched you?”

“Oh, my.”

“No! I gave her a couple of self defense classes, that’s all.” InuYasha hurried to explain.

“Oh!” Mrs. Higurashi seemed visibly relieved her daughter didn’t walk around purposefully breaking the criminal code. “Well, in that case I really appreciate it. Thank you, dear.”

“So that’s how you met? Self defense classes?”

“Not quite.”

The self defense classes came way later, in what InuYasha labeled as the ‘denial’ phase.

It started on a random night. They were arguing over something stupid, for a change. Things escalated rather fast and, against his better judgement, they had angry sex on her couch. He hadn’t thought much of it back them, telling himself they were just blowing off steam, that it wouldn’t happen again.

Only it did.

Over and over.

It was useless to fight it. No way to escape it. After a while, InuYasha had stopped trying and accepted the fact that every road lead him back to her bed. What he couldn’t, wouldn’t, refused to acknowledge, however, was that somewhere along the way, an invisible line was crossed and, as animosity gave space to awkward cordiality and awkward cordiality gave space to unlikely fondness, Kagome became much more than a mind-blowing fuck, even if at first he was too stubborn to say so.

And so, InuYasha came up with socially acceptable excuses to spend more time with her without it coming off as a big deal, hence the self defense classes. They were perfect for them, once it was something he mastered and it involved lots of physical contact. Besides, the half demon slept better at night, knowing Kagome could throw a proper punch at anyone who got too handsy. It wasn’t part of the ordinary self defense program, but then again, she was no ordinary girl. Although her spiritual powers assured no youkai would lay a finger on her, the priestess was on her own in terms of human threats. What InuYasha did was making sure that was enough.

They’ve been inseparable ever since.

“We’ve met through Miroku long before that.” Kagome clarified, conveniently leaving the petty behavior and childish arguments they had that first day out of it. “InuYasha is his roommate. Also, Sango has been friends with him since he was ten.”

“Oh!” The table nodded in understanding, working the math for themselves. It wasn’t a difficult calculation to make.

Miroku was a close friend of her family. Quite literally, given they were neighbors for as long as the bastard could remember. His family was spiritually gifted like no other and took to themselves the responsibility to help little Kagome Higurashi to improve her abilities to the fullest. As a result, they grew up together. People often confused them for siblings and at heart, they were.

InuYasha met the nuisance of a friend several years later, when both of them entered college. Graduation certainly wasn’t his biggest goal in life. Far from it. It was more like a boring thing he had to do in order to conquer his deserved space in the real world. Regardless, the half demon was eager to enjoy his first shot at independency.

He found a great place right outside campus, but the extent of time he could afford it without resorting to his folk’s pockets was limited. Doing all of the domestic chores by himself wasn’t appealing, either. He needed a roommate.

A river of candidates flooded his inbox — it was truly a fantastic deal — Miroku stood out for being the only human to reply to his advertisement. Curious, InuYasha booked an interview. The man was clearly a womanizer, appreciated a good booze and was the farthest thing from what he claimed his family to be. Or from what InuYasha looked for in a friend.

And yet, to his total bewilderment, they hit it off right away.

How was he supposed to know Miroku would fall for Sango?

His best friend Sango. 

The same Sango who helped him to train under the correct and outraging pretext that she had always been faster, that his defense was pathetic and that she would hate to see him get his ass kicked.

Gorgeous, confident, heart of gold Sango…

Yes, standing back from it now, InuYasha was a fool for not seeing it coming, since that was the obvious part.

The not so obvious one was that the two lovebirds would engage into a very loving, very serious relationship and that when Sango’s turn came to move out for college, Miroku would suggest an old friend to fill the vacant roommate position in her new apartment. A freshman as well, named Kagome.

And so InuYasha’s undoing began.

An unplanned dinner with mutual friends was hardly the most remarkable way to meet someone, but whenever InuYasha thought about the exquisite series of coincidences, about all of the incidents bound to happen in order to put them face to face in that distant autumn night… Well, he couldn’t shake the feeling it was meant to be, even if he had never had much faith in destiny, soulmates or any of that corny crap, there was no denying that suddenly every love song started making sense.

Flash forward and Miroku switched places with Kagome to better attend the living situation for the four of them. And that was that.

“What a… Delightful turn of events.” The venomous remark of the Higurashi patriarch brought the hanyou back to the present. This polite facade was what bothered him the most and InuYasha wanted the man, just for once, to say what he actually meant to say.

“Isn’t it?” Said Kagome, her enthusiasm palpable. If the girl had noticed the sarcasm hidden in that comment — and InuYasha was willing to bet so —, she made a point to disdain it, landing one hand on his knee, a discreet act of support.

Her grandfather clenched his jaw.

“InuYasha, you mentioned your family owns a company.” Mrs. Higurashi changed the subject unapologetically. “Any chances we have heard of it?”

He clung to the distraction like it was a life jacket.

“Probably, yeah! Taisho Inc.?”

“As in Toga Taisho?” Sota asked, his chin dropping. “Toga Taisho is your dad?” 

“And Izayoi is his mom.” Kagome added, fixing a knowing gaze on her own mother, whose bewilderment now mirrored her son’s.

“The Izayoi?”

“The one and only.” The hanyou nodded, accustomed to the heated reactions his distinguished bloodline got him. For better or for worse.

“Oh, her brand is fantastic! I read somewhere every clothing collection is environment friendly. And they’re so affordable, too!”

“Mom, you’re jabbering.” Interjected Sota.

“Sorry.” She said. More to be polite than anything else. “I’m a huge fan of her work!”

“So I’ve been told.” InuYasha glanced at Kagome, who stared at him right back. It was all it took, and he would be able to draw a meticulous picture of what she was thinking: both their mothers, chatting and enjoying a cold cup of tea under the setting sun like long date friends. Knowing his mom — and now Mrs. Higurashi — that was quite a possible scene.

“I’m sure the two of you will meet at some point.” Proclaimed Kagome. “Anyway… You won’t believe who InuYasha and I bumped into when we arrived—”

“Miss Kaede.” Sota and Mrs. Higurashi simultaneously answered, and at Kagome’s questioning expression, the boy shrugged. “She saw when we got here and came to say hi.”

They ordered minutes after.

The meal was hot and tasty, one of the best InuYasha had ever had. It helped that having dinner with her family, as it turned out, had been an overall pleasant experience. Light. Breezy. Sota and Mrs Higurashi did a wonderful job at keeping him comfortable. InuYasha would go as far as saying they had liked him, and for that he was insanely grateful.

Kagome’s grandfather, however, was a whole other story. The guy despised him and didn’t lift a finger to cover it, but he had spent the rest of the night relatively quiet about it, so InuYasha labeled it as progress.

He had offered them a ride home and they had accepted, just like Kagome said they would. It was funny, the speed in which he grew accustomed to their dynamics. Kagome and her brother mindless bickering, their mother pretending exasperation while secretly pleased, the drive filled with childhood tales and life updates, a innocent joke every now and then. It was decidedly something InuYasha could be a part of.

Their property was a rustic piece of land inserted between one urban construction and the next, refusing to be touched by modern convenience. Kagome’s enchantment for the place was justified. Growing up in there couldn’t have been anything less than magical.

“It’s not much,” Mrs. Higurashi apologized, “but it’s home.” She opened the door and turned on the light.

The house seemed bigger on the inside. Not fancy big. Cozy big. On every wall, past and future merged themselves in harmony. The decoration, simple and of good taste, spoke anecdotes of the merry family living there.

As they entered the living room, a movement alarmed his senses, and in a quick motion InuYasha dove in just in time to grab the falling ornamental vase before it hit the ground. The responsible for the almost disaster meowed and jumped off the glass shelf, making a point of stepping on InuYasha with indifference to then greet the others.

“You must be Buyo.”

“Nice catch!” Congratulated Sota.

“Oh, my! Thank you, InuYasha. This vase is very dear to me.” He handed her the adornment, which was immediately restored the its rightful spot. “Kagome, why don’t you show your boyfriend around?”

Obediently, her daughter let go of the purring cat and played the role of guide, giving him a comprehensive tour through her former home. Truth to her word, she saved the best for last.

“Before we get in, I want you to remember I was young and didn’t know any better.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” He established, gesturing for her to rush and turn the knob.

Her bedroom was a gleeful explosion of pink and purple. From the roof to the floor, most of the surfaces were bathed in different shades of the combination. Sheets. Teddy bears. Carpet. Alarm clock. Curtains. Posters that could now pass for vintage. InuYasha was impressed. Despite all reason, the aesthetic actually worked.

He barked a laugh.

“What did you have against the other colors?”

“Shut up, I was five!”

InuYasha ignored her in favor of snooping around. Objects that dared not to stick with the pink or purple agenda were inevitably highlighted by it. He went after those first.

“So many CDs!” InuYasha contemplated, inspecting her collection attentively. Music was a passion they shared. Even though she was a pop kind of girl and he fell more into the rock line, they had been able to find common ground, eventually. Like Rihanna. Or The Beatles. “Are you kidding me?”

Kagome acknowledged his raised brows and the copy of a NSYNC album he was holding with a giggle.

“I stand by it.”

Books also filled the room. For starts, there was the Biology ones, piled up on her writing desk in a greater amount than what could be considered healthy — and more worn out than the math editions. On the main bookcase, he ran his claws through the good stuff. Jane Austen. J.K. Rowling. Stephen King. He wasn’t much of a reader, himself. His relationship with literature came down to the bedtime stories her mom lulled him to sleep with and A Song of Ice and Fire, which Kagome was currently reading because of him, albeit they had binged Game Of Thrones together.

Among her personal, reduced library, there was one book that gave the impression not to belong. It was larger, made of aged, tawny leather and no inscription was printed on the spine. Curious, InuYasha pulled it out, discovering the item to be a photo album. He pointed to its cover. 

“Can I?”

“Knock yourself out.”

She paid no attention to him as he sat on her bed and cautiously flipped through the pages, too lost in her own nostalgia.

The compilation began at a hospital room. A younger Mrs. Higurashi exhibited a teary smile to the chubby newborn nestled against her chest, the arms of an equally jubilant man involved them in a hug. Mr. Higurashi had elongated traits that narrowed his chin and pronounced nose in a gentle manner, like time had purposefully left his boyish attributes untouched. He resembled Sota. In everything except his wavy, dark hair. InuYasha grinned. Kagome had her father’s hair.

The photograph below showed three pair of legs, lazily lying on white sheets. A woman, a man and between them a baby, the size difference contributing to make the latter even cuter. Next to that, a picture of baby Kagome old enough to sit up, dressing onesie pajamas and chewing on a pacifier. Her grandfather appeared every now and then, feeding her porridge, kissing her tiny palm, exasperated at the paint mess she had done on the hall.

InuYasha watched her grow up the deeper he advanced. From crawling to standing behind Mrs. Higurashi, wrapping her little arms around the long skirt of her mother as she did the dishes. From that, to climbing onto a chair to help her father with the baking, covered in flour in front of the kitchen table while he proudly cleaned her up. Picnics. Beach trips. Birthdays. Every milestone was documented. After her first day at school — a big red ribbon on her hair —, new characters came to scene. Miroku, by her side on the backyard, one of his teeth missing and autumn leaves sticking to the two of them everywhere, twin wide smiles on their lips. Buyo, only a kitten napping on her lap as they sat on a tyre swing. She was wearing a beautiful dress and sneakers, her feet inches away from the ground.

There was a significant passage of time when InuYasha turned to another page. He knew it because, abruptly, Sota was there too, even though Mrs. Higurashi had been pregnant just a few images ago. The subtitle read Kagome, giving her baby brother a bath. In reality, she had used shampoo to pin all of his hair up. Her growth was perceptible as well.

There were no pictures of Mr. Higurashi anymore.

Instead, Sota, Miroku and some other friends conquered a little more of space, as Kagome got closer and closer to become the woman InuYasha came to know. The final picture was of her high school gang. Ayumi, Eri, Yuka.

And Hojo.

She had dated him back then and they were friends to this day. Naturally. Because Kagome was fundamentally a good person. And the fucker was unabashedly still into her.

The worst thing was, he couldn’t even bring himself to resent the guy. As a matter of fact, the hanyou pitied him. If InuYasha was in his shoes, he doubt he could ever move on from Kagome. Be that as it may, he much would have preferred they had held a grudge, blocked each other on social media and called it quits. Like normal people did.

Kagome was staring out the window by the time InuYasha shut the album and returned it to its shelf. He let his face fall into the curve of her shoulder — a flawless fit — in the process of embracing her waist. She leaned her head to him, her fingertips caressing his forearms.

Out of respect, they had left the door open, but it was just for show. His keen senses ensured they could get away with innocent displays of affection without having to worry about unexpected interruptions.

“What are we lookin’ at?”

“The Goshinboku.” The view of her bedroom was composed by a stunning garden, a mighty tree standing tall in the center of it. “When I was a little girl, there was a tyre swing attached to it. My dad built it for me. And grandpa almost had a heart attack because the tree is supposed to be sacred.”

The fresh memory came rushing back, of a lovely girl, her sleeping cat and a tyre swing.

“He sounds like a good man.” InuYasha let it out, mentally kicking himself at the same time. Don’t bring up her father, remembered his inner voice, a second too late. Damn it, he thought, I was doing so well. But they were alone. And Kagome was the one to raise the subject.

“The best.” She agreed, the longing painfully distinguishable in her timbre. “The colors are his fault, actually. He let me pick them and insisted I’d help him painting, saying it was my room and therefore I should be an active part of its making in order to truly look my own. I felt like such a grown up, with that brush in my hand! It wasn’t until years later I realized he had done most of the heavy work, of course. My enthusiasm about the colors decreased with time, I gotta admit. But I never wanted to change it, because whenever I see them, I’m taken back to that day.”

InuYasha was at a loss for words.

In one night, Kagome had shared more about her father than she had in their entire relationship, the topic always a delicate one.

To measure her pain, he tried to imagine what would be like. His life without Toga Taisho in every step of the way, with his goofy jokes and thunderous laughter, teaching him how to shave, talking about girls, buying him his first pair of boxing gloves. Cheering him on. Most fathers wouldn’t be as supportive of his career choice. Especially when it meant stepping down from the family empire.

Unthinkable.

InuYasha couldn’t even began to understand.

Unexpectedly, he was assaulted by the crushing need to hug his old man.

“He’d be proud of ya. You know that, right?”

“I do.” Kagome sighed. She was at the verge of crying, he could tell. “I wish he had met you.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

“So...” Kagome bravely pushed her sorrow underneath, recovering the cheerful temper that was so typical of her. “Did you find anything good in that photo album?”

“Oh, yeah!” InuYasha nodded, taking her unsaid ask for distraction for what it was. “Miroku won’t hear the end of it.” She laughed and he relaxed at the sound. “Come on, let’s go downstairs. Your grandfather is getting distraught.”

“How did you do that?” Sota watched the TV screen in awe as their characters fought. InuYasha had just released a powerful blow, inflecting several damage on his opponent.

“Left-Right-B-B.”

Sota pressed the combination and as soon as he did, his character recreated the attack, hitting InuYasha back full force. The kid learned fast.

“Sweet! You gotta teach me more of this stuff! Can I come over to your place sometime?”

“Sure!” He answered, in autopilot. Kagome quietly pinched him in the tigh and the half demon realized his mistake. Don’t mention we live together. What an idiot he was. InuYasha wouldn’t have to mention anything if her brother saw it with his own eyes. “I-I mean, if that’s cool with your mom. It ain’t a quick drive.”

“For real?!”

“Yeah, just… Text me first.”

“You got it!”

InuYasha shrugged apologetically to his frustrated girlfriend. It was the best he could do.

“Kagome?” Mrs. Higurashi swiftly called from the kitchen. “Can you help me with the desserts, please?”

“Coming!”

Involuntarily, his ears twitched to follow her trail of noises. Steps. Crockery getting handled. Whispers.

“Alright: your honest opinion. Go!”

“Oh, I think your opinion is the one that counts.”

“It’s the one that counts the most. It’s not the only one that counts.”

“In that case, I must say you make a lovely couple. InuYasha caused an excellent impression on me. The way he looks at you… Your father used to look at me just like that.”

“Mama!”

There was a pause.

Out of habit, InuYasha kept hitting the right buttons, but his interest was far away from the game.

“Now, what else are you wanting to tell me?”

“How did you know?”

“A mother always does. What is it?”

“InuYasha and I… We’re living together.”

“I had my suspicions.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Are you happy?”

“The happiest.”

“Well, then. That’s all that matters to me.”

“Thank you! I love you so much!”

“I love you too, honey. But it might be wise not to let your grandfather know for now.”

“I figured as much.”

“One more thing.”

“Shoot!”

“Are the two of you using protection?”

“Mom!”

“What? It’s a fair concern.”

InuYasha had darkened multiple shades of embarrassment, all of them red. Sota took advantage of his temporary stupefied state to deliver the final blast, settling their score.

“Yes!”

“I totally let you win.”

“You wish!”

The two women walked into the room, dessert glasses on their hands. Sota accepted the one his mother offered him while Kagome sat on her previous spot by InuYasha.

“This candy is a family recipe.” Mrs. Higurashi explained. “It’s also the reason why we didn’t order a dessert at the restaurant.”

InuYasha hadn’t complained. In terms of food, sugary snacks were hardly his favorites. He opened his mouth, planning to decline the treat in way that wasn’t too rude, but his girlfriend beat him to the punch and sticked a spoon full of the stuff inside his mouth. The flavor outburst on his tongue was unprecedented, caramel being the base of it. The kickoff was undeniably sweet, pursued by a salty ending that assured a refined balance.

“Holy f… ork.” Don’t swear. At least this time he managed to caught himself before the failure.

“I’m glad you liked it.” Said Mrs. Higurashi, as InuYasha grabbed his portion from Kagome’s grasp and ate the whole thing in eager spoonfuls.

“How come you never made me one of those?” He threw Kagome an accusatory glance.

“I’m sorry, I just don’t think our relationship is that solid yet.”

InuYasha was formulating a sly remark when he heard her grandfather struggling to carry a heavy wood box.

“Sir, wanna some help?” He volunteered, already jumping to the rescue.

“I’m old, not invalid.”

“It wasn’t my intention to suges—”

“Grandpa, please don’t be dramatic.” Intervened Kagome. “We don’t want a broken hip, do we?”

Grudgingly, the elder turned his burden over to InuYasha, who followed him out into the storehouse. He was serenaded by the crickets and the constant instructions of the wrinkle bag, urging him to be careful.

“Where do you want this, sir?”

“There.” He pointed to the left corner of the room and InuYasha accomplished the task without breaking a sweat. Or a priceless relic. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” The temptation to spin on his heels and exit the building was tremendous. For Kagome, though, he had to make an effort. “I guess is safe to say you don’t like me or my tattoos very much. That’s alright, I get it. You just met me. But I promise you, sir, I would never, ever, do anything to hurt your granddaughter. I’m a hundred percent committed to Kagome. In fact…” InuYasha fished the ring off his back pocket and presented it to him. “I intend to propose to her in a near future. You don’t have to answer right now, just know it would mean a lot to her… To us, if you could give us your blessing.”

The man glared at the ring as if it was a viper ready to strike.

“I wasn’t aware this relationship of yours was that serious.”

“Well… It kinda is. I… I love her.”

InuYasha felt naked, so very naked, under the somber gaze of that man. However true his words were, he wasn’t the type to pour his heart out, let alone to someone he had met for less than the duration of a night. Vulnerability was something to be avoided. Let your guard open, you get knocked down. A lifetime of boxing will teach you that. Still, Kagome was worth way more than his stupid pride. 

“I see. In that case, you must end it at once.”

“What?”

“I held my peace because I was convinced, the moment my granddaughter introduced you as her boyfriend, that this was bound to break. Do not take it personally. I can’t possibly be the first one to point it out and chances are I won’t be the last. You are far from the man I imagined her future husband to be. Yet here you are, speaking of marriage. It is up to me, then, to open your eyes and remind you the implications of it.”

“The implications of it.” The hanyou half repeated, half questioned. The superior tone in which the man expressed himself was enerving and the fact InuYasha had no idea of where he was trying to get only worsened the tension.

“Your mother is human, is she not?” All of the pieces fell into place right then. He would rather they hadn’t.

“Yes, she is.”

“Then you better than anyone must know of the hardships she had to endure as a result of her lifestyle.” 

InuYasha was numb. Completely anesthetized. It was to be expected his stupor would soft the pain of the bad memories. It didn’t.

Romeo and Juliet got nothing on his parents. His mom had told him the story time and time again. They had met each other on a tropical storm. Her car died and of course he was there to help. She kept his coat. He kept her phone number on a piece of paper that accidentally was ruined by the rain. When their paths crossed again, he was a divorced father and she was engaged. They managed to get it right anyway. Timing was a comical thing. It never worked with rationality.

Both families were against it. Strongly against it. His mother was no longer welcomed in the house. They had burned to the ground any evidence she once belonged to that place. The only thing she took with her was the ring of her deceased mother that InuYasha now held inside his clenched fist. She wasn’t allowed in the Taisho mansion either, but it just meant his father wouldn’t set foot feet there as well.

There were grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins InuYasha didn’t have the chance to met. Because they didn’t want to. Other than from Sesshoumaru and his mom, that was it for him in the family section.

He used to resent it. When he caught a homesick Izayoi crying. When his father yelled at the management of some restaurant about their anti-human politics. When she was denied entrance because InuYasha was in her arms. When the family tree of the other kids in school was so much more complex than his. Fortunately, he came to terms with it. Family had little to do with blood.

“It wasn’t her fault and it wasn’t your father’s, either.” InuYasha heard him go on. “Regardless, this is the way things are. The way things have always been. And pretending otherwise is to believe in fairytales. You can not blame me for wishing a better fate upon Kagome.”

“Kagome is happy. I know she is!”

“For now. What would be of this so called happiness in the long run? Keep in mind Kagome is a priestess. What if this union causes her to lose her spiritual powers? Even if she doesn’t, a child born out of it would carry demon genes. It can not be avoided. It can affect their reiki greatly.”

“W-we haven’t talk—”

Kids. The subject was never discussed between them. It was not a secret Kagome wanted to have children. She should have children. Motherhood suited her. InuYasha, on the other hand, didn’t give the topic a lot of thought. He just accepted that, taking in consideration the lengths he was willing to go to make her happy, babies weren’t even that bad.

Now, his treacherous brain was plaguing him with the forbidden images. Another aged, tawny leather photo album, theirs to fulfill with pictures of a raven haired, golden eyed toddler. Kagome, pregnant with his child. It wasn’t bad. It wasn’t bad at all.

“Listen close, boy. I take no pride in that, but when cancer took my son away… It tore this home apart. Kagome? She was the one to put it back together. It was an unfair burden, for someone so young to take. And it meant countless sacrifices from her part. My granddaughter had to grow up too fast too soon. She deserves the luck of an ease love. You seem like a decent man, tattoos aside. That is why, if you love Kagome the way you claim to do, you will let her go.”

“InuYasha!”

“Huh?”

“I’m talking to you!”

“I’m driving!” Even to himself, the excuse sounded weak. For fear Kagome would pick up on his bullshit, he opted for diplomacy. “Can you repeat what it was?”

“My family! Did you like them?”

“Yeah, they’re great.”

She could sniff it out his lies from miles away, one of her many infuriating talents. It was a good thing InuYasha wasn’t lying, then. Her mom and brother had won him over without even trying. Her grandfather was difficult, to say the least. But ultimately, he only had Kagome’s best interests at heart. How could InuYasha not hold someone like that in deep appreciation? They shared the same priorities, after all.

“I’m glad.” Kagome sticked a palm out of the window, to cut the chill night air. Not even that diverted his concentration from the road ahead, hands sweating at the tigh grip on the steering wheel. They let the silence set, until her profound exhale disturbed it. “Do you miss your motorbike?”

Before Kagome, a classic black Harley used to be the love of his life. He had saved every penny he ever gotten in order to get it. It was the first significant thing he had ever bought with his own money. Sadly, the maintenance was pretty expensive and by the time they started going on double dates with Miroku and Sango or Koga and Ayame, an average car proved to be the obvious, more practical choice. It had its advantages. Convenience. Economy. Illegal activities on the backseat. His mother was radiant, too. She had somehow convinced herself owning a motorcycle was a creative way of signing his own death certificate.

He didn’t regret it.

But he couldn’t chase the wind in a car. Kagome wouldn’t hold him for dear life in a car.

“Sometimes.”

“Me too. Maybe we can afford to buy it back, someday.” His stomach sank. There would be no ‘someday’. Not for them. “InuYasha?”

“Maybe.”

He turned the radio on and neither of them talked the whole way home.

Water was pouring down, warm and nice against his skin. InuYasha stood under the shower far more than the necessary. His hope was that if he stalled long enough, Kagome would be sleeping by the time he left the bathroom. It was an act of pure cowardice, but it was for the best. If she was awake, he would be tempted to take her one last time, and what kind of monster he’d be by the morning, when they would have to say goodbye?

Kagome was sitting on their bed, waiting for him with his AC/DC shirt on. InuYasha should have anticipated she wouldn’t be entirely oblivious to his internal turmoil. He hadn’t done the neatest job hiding it and she knew him like no one else.

“Alright, what is wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Just who do you think you’re kidding?”

“Can we please do this tomorrow?”

“No! You’ve been acting strange since we left. I tried to give you space, but I won’t be able to sleep unless you put my mind at ease.”

From all the scenarios he had ran on his head of how this conversation would go, this was without a doubt the worst one. He didn’t want to end their relationship in the middle of the night, dressed only on his sweatpants, risking her to storm off that late. He owed Kagome more than that. Massaging his temple, InuYasha realized his hands were tied. She wouldn’t let it die. He sat by her side and ripped off the band-aid.

“We should break up.”

Her reaction to the news was a mystery InuYasha wasn’t dying to find out. She could cry, she used to do it for less and his ego would appreciate it. She could scream at him, it was totally understandable. She could slap his face, he probably deserved it. She could leave. He wouldn’t blame her.

“No.” Plain and simple.

Whatever he expected her to do, that wasn’t it.

“No?”

“That’s right.”

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“Exactly what I said.”

“We’re breaking up!”

“No, we’re not. Are you in love with someone else?”

“Well... No.”

“Have you stopped loving me?”

“That’s… That’s not the issue.”

“Then what is it?”

“I’m bad for you, Kagome! Can’t you see that?” His ferocity made her quiver and cursing himself, InuYasha counted two heavy breaths to try and tone it down. “Can’t you see everything you’ll miss out just to be by my side? I can’t do that to you. I won’t. What we have… It can be easy here, but in the real world...”

“Did my grandfather put you up to this?”

His startle gave him away. It was pointless to deny.

“He only said what we already knew and were too stubborn to accept.”

“How dare he?!”

“He’s right, y’know? This is the best thing for you.”

“How dare you?” She poked his naked chest, her fury unleashed like InuYasha hadn’t seen in a while. “Who are you to make this decision for me?”

“I’m someone who saw his mother be casted out and humiliated on a daily basis over it!”

“Have you ever asked her if she would do it again? Because I’m pretty sure I know the answer. And mine is the same.”

“What about children? You wouldn’t have to worry about whether or not they would inherit your spiritual powers if you had ‘em with a human.”

“I don’t care about the stupid bloodline tradition! It’s not like demons and humans are at war anymore. Any child we might have will be loved, powers or not powers. I refuse to let outdated morals dictate how I live my life, I refuse to let them get in the way of my happiness. And I can’t believe after everything we’ve been through you would give up of me that easy.”

“Easy?” InuYasha hissed. Kagome didn’t back down one bit at his rompant. “You think this is easy for me? This is the hardest thing I have ever had to do and if it’s possible you’re making it even harder. For once in my life I’m being selfless. For once in my life I’m putting someone else first. Because I fucking love you!”

Finally, finally, her lips crushed into his. It was a long time coming, as if every single event since he had seen her in that blue dress earlier were building up to that moment. He welcomed her touch like was second nature, greedly pulling her close to devour her lips. The taste of mint toothpaste flooded his senses and suddenly the whole universe shrunk to the shape her mouth. Her slow hands went from his cheeks to his wet hair, tangling on the messy strands and inducing the nape ones to rise up.

Only then InuYasha understood.

He was fooling himself.

Selfish. His love for her always was and always would be selfish. He could try to stay away, he could try to shut her out. In the end of the day, all she had to do was snap her fingers and he would be running to her. There was no escaping it. She wanted him, he was hers.

Little by little, InuYasha broke the kiss, their foreheads still connected as their hearts restored their normal pace.

“I don’t want to make things difficult between you and your family.”

“I’m sorry about tonight, InuYasha. I was so excited with the idea of you and my family getting along, I forgot to be more careful and pushed it too far with grandpa. Let’s give it time, okay? He’ll come around. If he doesn’t, you are not the one making things difficult. He is. People tend to be afraid of what they don’t know. It doesn’t matter. It’s not theirs to know, it’s ours. And we shouldn’t allow their opinions to interfere. No prejudiced beliefs can take me from your side. As long as you want me, there are no deal breakers. So what do you truly want?”

“What I truly want…” He got up and went to their wardrobe, reaching the depths of the drawer where he kept his jeans for the hidden ring. He found it and fell into one knee in front of her. “It’s to spend the rest of my life with you.” She gasped, hands flying to cover her mouth as her eyes overflowed. “This might be crazy soon, but it has also been a crazy night. Kagome, will you—”

“Yes!”

She knocked him down in a hug that turned into another kiss, tender than the prior. They had time to pleasantries now. They had all the time in the world. InuYasha wanted to laugh at the expense of his unplanned rebellion. There he was, making the exact opposite thing her grandfather had ordered him to do. And he was still a bit unaware as to how.

“Will ya let me put this thing on your finger or what?” He questioned when she pulled away.

“In one condition.”

“Which one?”

“Don’t you ever break up with me again.”

“It won’t be a problem.”

A/N: this is for the brilliant @dyaz-stories​ who requested “The stakes are high. Tthe water's rough. But this love is ours” + “And any snide remarks from my father about your tattoos will be ignored. Cause my heart is yours” for the lyric game.

I hope you don’t mind the “my father” to “my grandfather”change, but I thought it was more fitting, given the circumstances. Sorry I made you the bad guy, grandpa, but someone had to be! Also, I know the lyrics say that the snide remarks about the tattoos would be ignored, but no matter how hard I tried to stand by it, Kagome refused to be silenced.

About the tattoos: I’ve read somewhere cherry blossoms mean female beauty, love, happiness, renovation and hope. They symbolize the end of winter and beginning of spring… which is pretty much everything Kagome represents to InuYasha.

That being said, happy Inukag Week! Yes, I do celebrate it as if it was a hollyday. No, I do not think I’m obsessed. I like this couple a normal amount. And this fanfic just happens to fit the prompt “acceptance” from day one, so here you go @inukag-week​

[softjeon]

In love with your dark side | Pt. 1

• Pairing: Beauty!Taehyung x Beast!Yoongi • Genre: Fluff, bit of Angst | Rating: Teen and Up | Beautyandthebeast!AU / Fairytale!AU • Words: 5k | AO3 | Gifset Trailer • Disclaimer: anxiety, mentioning of a curse

written with @cassiavioletblue​

↳ Yoongi had tried not to think about what would happen if someone saw him but his mind had wandered through all of their possible reactions anyway: screaming, laughing, shock… he’s had so many horrible encounters in his mind and yet the boy in front of him didn’t react like in any of his thoughts.

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Min Companies was designed to impress, he had learned that at his first day. The golden letters above the entrance were only enhancing the feeling and when he had stepped in, the statue of a young boy and his father was making Taehyung stop and stare at the strange fountain. He hadn’t known how much time had passed when a young woman called out his name and he startled.

“Mr. Kang is already awaiting you for your interview, though it won’t be hard. It’s just a position for the mail department, so please don’t worry.” She looked him up and down and Taehyung had thanked her, although he wasn’t so sure what for. 

Like the building itself, the interior of the big office was designed to impress, even awe those who might have reason to be here. Taehyung had hurried behind the secretary, eyes gazing around as he tried to take it all in: mahogany desks, matching conference tables resting in front of a glass exterior wall, looking out on an equally stunning view.

Nowadays, Taehyung didn’t really notice it anymore.

It had become natural to stroll past the desks, handing out the right mail to everyone. Sometimes he wondered why their CEO still kept it manually and handed out by a person, when there were for sure computer programs or something else to handle it faster. But then again, he didn’t question his job further. He needed it and he needed the money. As a photographer, Taehyung didn’t make enough money, so this was good enough for him. He was working in the mornings for the little extra money, rushing back to his little shop in the afternoons.

The office was in full swing when Taehyung had stepped in this morning and his smile grew wider when he saw the many familiar faces. “Good Morning,” Taehyung greeted the first few people that were sipping on their coffees, tired eyes looking at him. Taehyung simply went after his routine like every day, handing out mail, chatting to a few employers until Mr. Kang, the deputy of the CEO, raised an eyebrow at him and he hurried along until he made it to the end of the long office.

Taehyung didn’t look up as he pushed the cart, simultaneously looking through the boxes to see if he had missed something but there was no mail left when he came to a halt. His eyes flickered up at the glass wall, but there was no seeing through as thick dark curtains hung from the inside and gave him no view of the inside. Taehyung hummed as he stared at the locked door, remembering what Mr. Kang had told him on the first day vividly.

“One rule: never step into Mr. Min’s office.”

Taehyung hadn’t questioned it back then; that was until he heard the daily office gossips. Many said that Mr. Min had been simply on a vacation, planning to give over his company and resting on his well-deserved money, while others were sure they heard noises coming from the other side of the wall. Taehyung bit his lip as he leaned in a little closer, holding his breath as he tried to listen. But there was nothing.

Mr. Min had been young and successful, everything one wanted to have: he had it.

Everything superficial at least, Taehyung thought as he turned his cart around, glancing over his shoulder one last time. He believed that Mr. Min was still there, or why else would he need to deliver his mail each day, simply putting it down next to the door. It was always gone the next day, no matter how early Taehyung was. But he had never seen Mr. Min leave or arrive at the office and only the picture hanging over at the wall let him know what he looked like. Taehyung had shivered seeing it the first time. It was awfully shot, and Mr. Min looked dead as he stared into the camera lens. Taehyung thought he had a cute nose, but his eyes seemed so frozen as he looked down at him. Whoever shot this picture did an awful job. It seemed so lifeless that he had half a heart to take it down.

He dismissed it as he put the cart back to the small office, that was more of a storeroom than a mail office and grabbed his back to hurry out. He had a few customers today and he was beaming with excitement.

…

It was only when the sun had already set that Taehyung finally locked the doors of his photography shop behind him with a tired sigh. He was exhausted and although he had fun, he felt the aftereffects of his  long day now. Frowning a little, Taehyung tried to calculate how much time he had left to get some dinner and get enough sleep before he had to hurry back to the office again.

At home, Taehyung didn’t bother to look at the fridge anymore, too tired to keep his eyes open and simply plopping down onto his bed. Rubbing over his face, he groaned. Sometimes he wished life were easier, that money was something that he didn’t have to worry about anymore and that photography would give him enough to survive. But he knew that wouldn’t happen, just like he knew fairytales weren’t real.

There was no magic, no three wishes, no one that would make it easier for him. So, he had to keep working hard.

Propping himself up on his elbows, Taehyung took his bag to unpack and took the mail he received at his shop, to start opening them as he shuffled back into the kitchen. Bills, Bills, some ads and a letter for Mr. Min.

Taehyung was about to dismiss it when his eyes widened.

Rereading the letters, he gulped heavily as he came to the horrible realization that this letter wasn’t his. His heart stopped. In all the time he had been working for the Min Company this had never happened before. How did it get into his bag? Did he mess up the sorting this morning? Taehyung was starting to panic as he ran back to get his phone.

“Jimin! I fucked up; I don’t know what to do!” He whined helplessly when he had told his best friend everything, only receiving a sleepy groan from the other end of the line.

“Give it to him tomorrow then…”

“But what if it’s important?”

“It’s late it doesn’t matter anymore right?” He could hear Jimin turning in his bed, the sounds of sheets being pulled making it harder to understand him.

“You’re not really that much of a help,” Taehyung rubbed the bridge of his nose, his feet tapping on the ground nervously.

“Then go there now and give it to him. Isn’t that self-absorbed brick gone anyways? Put it onto his table, then you can simply say he oversaw it, if they ask you about it. Who cares anyways.” With a broken off ‘I love you and don’t worry too much’ Jimin had cut him off again (well aware that Taehyung would keep on freaking out for the next hours and depriving him off his sleep if he didn’t). He ignored Jimin’s aversion towards Mr. Min, knowing Jimin’s love for gossip and the many things Mr. Min had apparently done to secure his own wealth. And maybe Jimin was still pissed that his own ask for a donation had been denied by the man that he was now working for. But he was right about one thing: Mr. Min must be gone, so Taehyung could simply put the letter onto his table and pretend like it had been there forever.

Or maybe just say it hadn’t been delivered before and that’s why it was a day late. Or maybe one of the cleaning ladies…

Taehyung was wrecking his mind, mumbling to himself as he grabbed his jacket and only when he stood in front of the office building did his thoughts come to a halt. This was absolutely stupid, but if he didn’t do it, Taehyung knew he would wreck his mind even more about it. He’d rather just went with it now. So, he nodded towards the night shifts receptionist as if it was perfectly normal for the post delivery boy to come in late at night and want to work and to his luck, the other didn’t even ask just simply let him through.

A shiver ran down his spine as he stepped foot into the empty office and suddenly the atmosphere was completely different. Taehyung took a deep breath, affirming himself as he walked ahead, “Your life is not a horror movie, calm down.” He stopped when he stood in front of his office again. It hadn’t changed a bit from this morning, not even a fold in the curtains had changed (not that he could tell but…).

“Just put it on his table and pretend like it had been there all along.” He whispered again, hand shakily reaching out for the handle and to his own surprise it unlocked and pushed open, leaving Taehyung to gasp for air. 

…

It had taken him a while to get used to living his life at night but now it had become second nature to him. Like a nocturnal animal he slept mostly during the day and only got out at night. He had blackout curtains so he could sleep properly and used daylight lamps in his home and office to trick his inner clock into believing that everything was still fine. Except it wasn’t.

He made phone calls when he had to, but he rarely ever got out and when he did he wore so many layers of clothes that he had sweated through them when he came home. So, he mostly stayed in. 

Giving up his home had hurt a lot and sometimes he visited it, getting in his car in the underground garage and driving right into the parking lot of his former home so that no one could see him. But it hurt even more walking around the empty hallways and watching it slowly gathering dust. At first he had sent a cleaning lady once a week but one person couldn’t clean the whole mansion on its own and he had been scared that she would talk or question him if it went on too long so he had put her elsewhere, in his company and pretended to not need her any longer. In the beginning, right after it had happened he had been in disbelief so he had told everyone that he was taking a short vacation, thinking that it could only take a few days to get him back to normal. He had become more and more desperate, grasping onto every straw, going from academic medicine to naturopathy to the occult until he was taking part in the most obscure rituals. Nonetheless no matter what he did, nothing changed. 

Rather the opposite, he felt the more he fought it the darker his black streaks got. 

Until he had just given up. 

He had never given up like that ever before and it left him cold and confused and lost in his own world. It had taken him quite a while to get back on track. He’s had hundreds of calls and messages and emails to sort through after he finally felt ready to face the world again and as he had to find some explanation he fabricated some half-truth about some medical condition, telling others that he was simply spending some time for himself so that there would be different stories, different rumors and no one would know for sure.  

Working again felt nothing like it had before the incident. He had loved his work, more than anything else. Playing with numbers, taking risks and getting profit out of what he had made happen - it made him feel amazing, almost like a god. He could shape the world, he could make people or destroy their dreams, sell a product to hundreds or thousands of people - or make sure that no one would ever see it. He had power, so much power that it made him feel invincible. Until he wasn’t any more. And now work felt like a burden. 

He hadn’t really changed his work; he was still doing the same, but he couldn’t take pride in what he did. Winning felt stale and bitter and losing didn’t affect him. He had already lost his life so losing a project didn’t compare. He watched others built their own empires, people who hadn’t been closed to being a serious threat to his business before. However, what hurt him more, what had him filled with envy wasn’t the thriving of other businesses. It was his own employees. Because it looked they were better than ever. While he was suffering their life had continued like nothing had happened and they seemed to be happy about that he was gone. His own people found joy in him being gone. He could have stayed in the office during the day with the curtains drawn and no one allowed to come in, but he couldn’t take it, hearing them laugh, being so close to his former life while actually being miles apart. So, he only came here at night. 

He had bought the floor above them that had been used by some start up business that no one would miss and had kept all the business signs there so that no one knew it was him. Then he had hired people to turn it into a place where he could actually live and paid them double after they signed a nondisclosure agreement. No one knew he lived there. So, every night he came down to his office without anyone seeing him, checked the curtains before turning on the light so no one from outside would see it and then he got to work. Because there was nothing else that he could do. 

…

The gasp that had fallen from Taehyung’s lips got caught somewhere as he held his breath and all of his muscles were frozen. He gulped heavily, when his eyes met darker orbs staring right back at him and he swore he could hear a low growl or maybe it was just his stomach (Taehyung wasn’t so sure anymore). 

His fingers clenched tightly around the letter he held, when his eyes fell onto the man’s hands and the black streaks discoloring his veins, seemingly going further up until… Taehyung licked over his lips nervously as he saw some peeking out from the collar and over his face. It looked like they were carved into his skin, almost as if they had burned into his skin like acid. He hadn’t noticed in his first panic and for a moment he wasn’t sure, but he looked familiar. It was the same man in the picture that was hanging in the hallway. Taehyung opened his mouth to say something when his eyes met his again and they’ve got a dangerous glint. In his panic, Taehyung simply bowed his head, holding out the letter in front of him and shutting his eyes closed, begging and pleading in his mind that he wouldn’t get fired now.  

Yoongi was frozen. Completely, utterly frozen up as if someone had put a spell in him. Again. 

He hadn't seen another person face to face for so long that the other looked strangely beautiful to him even though it was clear that he was just a small employee. Yoongi breathed in relief when he realized that he could stay in control here if only he got himself together. It was just a small employer, no one higher up the food chain who could actually harm him and no camera for proof. He could either buy the boys silence or threaten him into not speaking a word about this whatever worked best. He got this. He has done it before. Not regarding bis condition but in business. Because in the end it always came down to two simple truths: you won if you made clear who was in control and money could buy everything. 

So, he schooled his face onto an impassive mask despite his heart hammering in his chest and gave a simple command: "Close the door." The boy didn't seem to understand what that meant so he repeated himself, sharper and more threatening this time. "Get in, close the door and sit down. Now!" 

Taehyung jerked up and followed his command quickly, turning around to close the door and do what the other said. He didn’t know what he had expected Mr. Min’s voice to be like, but it was icier, cutting right through him making him scared about what’s to come. 

The closer he got, the more he could see the scars on the man’s face, the darkened veins pulsating under his skin and weirdly Taehyung thought about asking Mr. Min if he was allowed to photograph him one day. Tearing his gaze from him, Taehyung held onto the letter as if his life depended on it as he sat down, keeping his eyes firmly on Mr. Min. The other was just about to open his mouth when Taehyung couldn’t hold it anymore. “I am so very sorry, Mr. Min. I really am. I didn’t want to bother you, nor did I think you’d be still here this late and I just wanted to make sure you’d receive your mail.” He smiled faintly at the man as he held out the letter for him to take, quickly soothing over the rough edges from where he had crumbled the paper a little from holding onto it too tightly. 

Yoongi had tried not to think about what would happen if someone saw him but his mind had wandered through all of their possible reactions anyway: screaming, laughing, shock… he’s had so many horrible encounters in his mind and yet the boy in front of him didn’t react like in any of his thoughts. He just acted...normal. A little nervous maybe but that was to be expected when you stumbled into your boss at night while you had no business being in his office. He almost asked him straight away if he were blind but luckily he could hold himself back. No one with impaired vision was working for him. His employees all had to be in perfect health. 

“Who are you exactly that you got a hold of my mail?” He answered, keeping his facade intact while he was burning with questions. His whole world had been tilted on its axis - he was so excited about having an actual real person in front of him that he had to try hard to make his voice sound as dominant and in control as he liked it to be. “And what exactly gave you the idea that you could walk into my office? At night! You shouldn’t even be here, less alone in this office. This alone would be a reason to fire you.” 

The younger startled, bowing his head just enough for Mr. Min to know he was sorry. “I’m Kim Taehyung, I come every morning to sort out the mail and make sure everyone gets everything. I usually am the one putting it at the front of your door but…,” He sighed and looked up; where other people had jerked away from Yoongi each time or their eyes widened whenever he came to close, Taehyung just smiled at him. “This little one,” He waved the letter and put it onto his desk, “Must have fallen out and into my bag and I wanted to make sure you’d still get it in time. I really didn’t think you’d be still here. And I must say, Mr. Min this is not good for your health to work this late.” Looking down at his watch, he raised an eyebrow, “It’s past midnight.” Taehyung stiffened up when he saw that Mr. Min wasn’t amused at all.  

Yoongi leaned forward making sure that Taehyung saw him, really saw him. The others nonchalant reaction to his curse gave him a thrill and he desperately willed down the hope that started to rise inside of him. Any moment now Taehyung would freak and run out the room or gasp in horror. He knew how he looked. What was normally hidden under the skin was plainly visible in his case: Every vein, every blood vessel shimmered sickeningly black through his transparent skin. He had made the mistake to undress in front of a mirror after the curse and had spent the next half hour in the bathroom over the toilet. In the back you could see his spine shimmering through, all lines in a net of blackened blood vessels. It looked like one of the drawings he had once seen that had been concept art for a horror movie. He had turned into a horror monster himself.  

Since then he made sure to turn off the lights when he undressed and to wear long sleeves and pants at all times. He had tried to wear gloves as well, but he couldn’t work while wearing them and he also couldn’t play his piano, not really, he needed to feel the keys under his fingertips or else he felt too detached from it. His music was the only thing that made him forget for a little while: sitting in front of the piano and playing while he kept his eyes firmly closed. 

His eyes were the worst. With all the blood vessels visible they looked so dark that it seemed his whole eyes were black, like some cheap Halloween demon contact lenses. He had actually tried using contact lenses to cover it up, but it hurt, and it always shimmered through somehow. 

So, he placed his hands on the table, making sure that Taehyung saw him, expecting him to flinch while he answered calmly, “So what you’re saying is that you stole my mail. And when you got cold feet you decided that breaking into my office would be nice. And now you actually have the audacity to lecture me about my health when I’m very clearly past that, don’t we agree?” 

Taehyung did none of what he expected, instead he cocked his head aside, brows furrowed when his boss had misunderstood him. His gaze didn’t flicker one time, when Taehyung kept his eyes on him. “No, sir, you got me wrong. You know every morning when I sort the mail into the little cart it must have slipped. I didn’t saw it, nor when I stood in front of your door this morning. It was never my intention to take anything home and honestly, you can’t really calling it breaking in.” He pointed at the door behind his back, “The night shift receptionist saw me, and your door was kind of open...and there’s cameras everywhere anyways. And although you’re right about your health, I just wanted to be kind, it wasn’t my intention to offend you.” A soft smile played at his lips as he saw Yoongi leaning back just an inch, “I would have knocked if I’d known someone would be here.”

Yoongi was silent for a minute. He could only be more obvious by waving his blackened hand right in front of Taehyung’s face and he definitely wouldn’t do that so apparently Taehyung was either colorblind - or strangely nice. Especially after being accused of stealing and breaking into his office. He was a little bit out of his depth here because pleasant conversations with his employees had actually never happened. He only saw them in his office when he needed to reprimand them or give them different schedules or when he was about to fire them. This here however was strangely pleasant, despite his initial fear that Taehyung might tell everyone. But maybe that’s why he was so calm and kind - to phone the next tv station the minute he was outside the building and sell his firsthand story of how his boss had turned into a monster. If yes he was pretty sure he could tease it out of him.  

Yoongi reached out his hand to get the letter and then opened it right in front of Taehyung.  

The younger sat back, feeling a tad uncomfortable that Yoongi was simply ignoring him for the letter. He pushed his jacket over his wrist and checked the watch, noticing the time and while he was counting in his head how many hours he had left to sleep he almost considered just staying and sleeping in the little reception room where there was a couch. It was made from leather and although it wouldn’t be the most comfortable it probably was the most practical. While Yoongi was reading, Taehyung let his eyes wander over the interior of his office until it halted at a spiral staircase leading upstairs, somewhere where he couldn’t see.  

“Ah, just something about money. It could have waited until tomorrow.” Yoongi placed the letter aside and put his hands together in front of him, the perfect image of a movie villain thinking. “Speaking of money - what do you make working for me, Taehyung?” Taehyung, a little speechless didn’t answer fast enough so Yoongi just kept going. “Let me rephrase this: What is in your opinion a nice amount of money? A sum that could buy your silence about this. About everything. Let me tell you it’s a hassle to take part in some yellow press bullshit and you won’t get anything else unless you’ve got proof. Until then it’s just rumors which are definitely not worth your time for which little payment you’ll get. So, you should definitely take the easy way: Do nothing and get money for it. Does sound a lot better, doesn’t it?” 

Taehyung opened his mouth, closed it and then opened it again. “Excuse me Mr. Min, but what exactly are you talking about?” He shook his head, brows furrowed as he tried to understand. “Proof of what? Money for…me? Nice amount? I mean, that always depends for what. Like…I think the overpriced coffee downstairs for five bucks is a lot already. But if you want my opinion about shares or funds I don’t think I’m the right guy to ask. I don’t really care about money. Don’t you have other people for that?”

Yoongi blinked, completely dumbfounded. “Are you... serious right now? Or are you paying dumb to get out of this? Do you really need me to spell it out for you?” Taehyung’s insecure smile had him groaning in frustration. At least it was absolutely obvious now that this boy wasn’t a threat. At least not one that you could take seriously. “Then let’s talk bluntly for a second. You saw me working here. Obviously, I don’t want anyone to see me therefore my nightly work schedule. As little employees like you tend to try and get money wherever they can I assumed you might what to sell the information you just accidentally gathered on my person to the next tv station or magazine. As I’d prefer you not to I just offered you money to keep your mouth shut and pretend you never saw anything. Meaning if you take that money and something gets out then I’ll come after you. If you keep your side of the deal then everyone’s happy and no one needs to hurt. Are we clear now?”

“Oh,” Taehyung couldn’t help but laugh, giggling cutely as he felt a lot more comfortable now. He didn’t want any money. Not like this at least. And why would he tell anyone about Mr. Min, anyways? He wasn’t a snitch. “Of course. You don’t need to worry about me, Sir.” He gave him an honest smile and got up from the chair, bowing his head again, before turning away and towards the door. “Have a good night, Mr. Min.” 

Yoongi stared at the younger’s back as he quickly slipped through the door, rendered speechless by the turn of events. He had just made it pretty clear that he would give him money for staying silent. And even if Taehyung hadn’t initially planned on selling the information he must have gotten intrigued after his offer, basically, all he had to do was name a sum and Yoongi would have given it to him. No questions asked! And Taehyung didn’t even seem to be scared or hesitant or torn - he just laughed at him and told him good night! Just like that! 

It took him a while to recover from that strange encounter but then he quickly got up to lock the door. Twice, just to be sure.

If instead of working on his project he spent the rest of the night googling Kim Taehyung then no one had to know.

…

All the way home, Taehyung couldn’t wipe away the smile of his lips as he thought about the weird encounter. He had never talked to Mr. Min before and now he knew what his voice sounded like. It was rough, but with a tune to it that Taehyung actually kind of liked it. He shook his head softly when he finally laid down in bed and although he was tired, he couldn’t help but wreck his mind about why Yoongi had wanted him to stay silent with money. Was his health that bad? He looked sickly, but his whole being still looked rather youthful and full of energy, not like someone who was very sick. But what did Taehyung even knew about that? Turning in his bed, Taehyung was about to close his eyes when he jerked awake again.

“Oh no,” Taehyung softly slapped himself against his forehead as he groaned: He had totally forgotten to thank Mr. Min for not firing him. Tae just had been so glad that Mr. Min was fine with him leaving and it being a misunderstanding, that he hadn’t even cared to thank him for trusting him enough to keep doing his work. With a tired yawn, he thought about how to thank him eventually, the excitement of seeing his boss again buzzing softly in the pit of his stomach, before his eyes finally fell shut. 

A/N: Oh, what do you guys think? ;) Will Yoongi let Taehyung in again? Anyways, we hope you enjoyed this little intro to our fic. This will be much shorter than the Red Riding Hood one...as we originally planned to write only short fairytales but somehow when it comes to Minjoon we couldn’t stop ourselves. We really hope you liked this and if you do, we will be happy to know what you guys think! Updates will be every sunday as always!

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[sandalaris]

SethKate for the 10 sentence meme?

one sentence per genre for a pairing

How can anyone do any of these with just one sentence?! At least I tried.... there’s a lot of run on sentences in this, btw, although after a few I just decided the one sentence rule could shove it and went with keeping each one short, and at least one I said screw it and made it pretty long for a one-sentence story.

1. Angst

A shadow self, that’s what Amaru called them, the ones she twisted and turned and brought forth from the other side, and logically Kate knows he had no choice, knows he did what he had to do to save Richie and her and the world, but logic has no hold in the face of screaming gaping wound in her chest that pulses and weeps grief and guilt when she looks at Seth’s face. It’s a cruel and ugly twist of fate, to still love the man who killed her brother.

A/N: A mild AU I will never write (but have thought about what would happen before) in which Amaru did her shadow-self thing on Scott and Seth is forced to kill him.

2. AU

There’s nothing wrong with the school itself, she decides, even if she does find some of its rules and traditions a bit odd. She wouldn’t even need to be here except Our Lady of Sorrow holds the only duel credit program with both an opening in Statistics and Intro to Psych that was willing to let Kate in given her... unusual circumstances (being homeschooled, a devout Baptist, and technically enrolled at a local public high school - a PE credit apparently requires a bit more than her daddy and the internet can provide - had her sure that even applying was a lost cause). She only has to spend half a day on campus and only one of her classes is even near the annex building so she hardly sees Seth (she refuses to call him “Mr. Gecko” on principle. She’s only somewhat a student here, and he is certainly not her teacher, even if he is a teacher.. she thinks).

She’s counting the weeks until the semester ends.

A/N: I would love to read this as a full fic... just not sure I want to write it, lol. 

3. Crack

No. Nuh-uh. No way. Seth is not some pansy assed prince charming setting out on a quest or one of those glory seeking wannabe knights who graduate from the Fairytale Training Academy, and he’s certainly never wanted to be anyone’s goddamn hero, so little miss damsel in distress, who’s probably some secret lost princess because Seth’s read this tale before and he hated it the first time around, can save her sob story for some other guy because he is absolutely not-

“Please.”

...fuck.

A/N: A reluctant Seth who is entirely too aware of fairy tale tropes and trying everything he can not to be in a one? Way more amusing than it should be to me.

4. Future fic

Seth eyes the group of sparkly wrapped boxes sitting on the counter with distrust, part of him already counting their numbers and trying to figure out how many have his name on them. After last year, when Seth managed to sneak a peek at every single last gift and “ruined the surprise,” Kate had managed to hide every Christmas present so well he’d begun to wonder if she’d decided he didn’t get any this year.

He reaches for a small, shiny box, the tag just peeking out from the curly bow and revealing a “th” in a familiar loopy penmanship, when Kate suddenly hisses behind him.

“Don’t even think about it.”

A/N: “Future” makes me think domestic fic (at least in FDtD), and that’s not an area I’m real familiar with, so *waves hand* this is what you get. :P

5. First Time

Her hands are shaking. Not visibly, but enough to make her fingers feel weak and the gun in her grip far too dangerous.

“You ready?”

She doesn’t know if she’s imagining the doubt in Seth’s voice, regret bleeding through at agreeing for her to play a bigger role, but she nods firmly anyways, tightening her grip and stepping forward.

A/N: Kate’s first heist... although I doubt Seth let her use a gun the first time. Too dangerous in the hands of an amateur. And I’m pretty sure Seth kept Kate’s role as danger-free and background as he could, because she was still fighting so hard to be considered an equal partner at the beginning of S2.

6. Fluff

She’s just managed to settle into the perfect spot when the bed shifts slightly behind her and a familiar hand fumbles sleepily at her arm and over her stomach before finding the hollow dip of her waist. Kate lets out a half-hearted protest, bits of warmth escaping at the blanket slips down and the sheet bunching beneath her as Seth wastes no time tugging her across the mattress, the sound dying into a soft laugh as he tucks her half under him and grumbles wordlessly against her temple without even opening his eyes. She shifts, tugging the corner of the pillow down a bit so its not digging into her neck before letting out a happy sigh. Perfect.

7. Humor (I had a hard time with this one, so I just wrote something random)

Kate makes a noise of frustration, pushing herself from her chair and snapping, “I’m gonna die a virgin. Again!”

“You know,” Richie says with far too much brotherly glee, “if you’re looking for someone to-”

“Shut up, Richard!”

8. Hurt/Comfort (another one where I didn’t exactly want to go full hurt/comfort, so instead I went Hurt? As in injury? Yeah, lets go with that.)

“Ohgodohgodohgod.” She can’t seem to stop the litany of words, repeated phrase cycling through her mind as she presses harder. There’s blood, so much blood, seeping red and too thick through her fingers that she can’t even feel the pain.

She should feel it, she thinks, she did before. Or maybe its better that she can’t, she doesn’t want a repeat of the well.

She takes another step, seeing the door just a few steps away. There are people beyond it, Seth and Richie’s people (Seth’s going to be so pissed, she thinks with a kind of worrying detachment.) It’s a simple goal: get to the door. Everything will be alright if she can just get to the door.

A/N: Kate is totally OK in this. It’s bad, but not as bad as she thinks, and while she doesn’t make it to the door before collapsing, someone comes through really quickly and sees her.

9. Smut  Hand holding?

The leather is soft against his skin, well worn from years of near continuous use and Kate’s dedicated care. He remembers when she first got them, the fancy looking box with its folded tissue paper holding them inside like they were a gift. He had hated them, hated the way they covered Kate’s small, deadly hands, the way Dad expected for her to be grateful, how necessary they were.

He slides his hand up, pad of his thumb brushing over the expensive leather covering her palm before it presses against the soft, vulnerable skin of her inner wrist, and he swears for a moment her can feel the nervous flutter of her pulse before he curls his fingers to lock around her wrist.

She looks at him, an amused quirk of to the edge of her lips as he raises her hand between them and he meets her gaze, not bothering to measure the redness of her eyes as he reaches his free hand up to pinch the fabric just above her pinkie.

“What’re yo-” She cuts off with a choked gasp when he tugs, but doesn’t jerk back. He’s inexplicably proud of her for it.

Her eyes are wide and a little panicked, bottom lip trapped between her teeth as she watches him tug at the top of each finger, loosening the well-fitting glove until it sits loose on her small hand.

He takes in a shaky breath, feeling unaccountably nervous as he grips the empty tip of the glove’s middle finger, like he’s removing far more than just a simple bit of leather. But then again, maybe he is. After all, Kate’s almost never lets any of them see her without her gloves, not willingly.

He pauses at the thought, gaze flicking away from his task to look at Kate. He regrets it almost immediately. He wasn’t going to stop once he started, wasn’t going to give Kate cause to think he held any of the fear she’s convinced he must feel. But maybe she sees the question in his eyes, or feel it in the sure way he holds her wrist because she nods, small and hesitant but there. He pulls the glove the rest of the way off and lets it fall to the floor.

He lets out a breath just as Kate seems to suck one in, her gaze locked on her bare fingers and Seth loosens his grip, fingers already turning so he can run the flat of his palm up her wrist, forearm pressing against forearm as his hand aligns with hers.

He’s grinning, sudden and full of too much smug satisfaction if Kate’s affectionate eye roll is anything to go by, but Seth doesn’t care, already lacing their fingers together so he can hold her hand proper for once.

A/N: This is part of a tUA inspired AU that has no plot and therefore will never be written. But I know exactly what Kate and Seth’s abilities are, which is part of why this is such a thing for Kate here and why Seth feels her fears are unfounded.

10. UST (Unresolved Sexual Tension)

She doesn’t blink, barely seems to be breathing, holding herself so carefully behind her desk, straight backed and fingers laced together as she stares stubbornly up at him. He smiles, slow and measured and knowing, letting his gaze sweep over the cardigan she’s begun buttoning all the way up since he joined her little class, before leaning close, meeting her gaze and dropping his voice low, like a secret between them.

“And what do I get if I get it right?”

A/N: Seth goes back to school to get his GED, Ms. Fuller is not what he was expecting. I actually had a whole scene playing through my head for this, because I like build up, and it was really hard to pick just a small part to put here.

None of these are edited, despite how long it took to post, meaning I have mixed feelings on them, lol. I think I like more of them than I expected to, so yay!

[chemicalpink]

Starry Night♡ Jimin x Reader

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader; shifter!Jimin, familiar!Jimin x witch!reader

Genre: fluff, implied smut, hints of humor and angst

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: there is a bit of talk about family issues & implied smut

Summary: Every witch is supposed to have a familiar by her side, except you seem to be the exception to the rule, until a certain calico cat enters your life and not only is he your familiar but he might just be the love of your life

OR

The one where Jimin is a calico cat shifter that would like to enjoy the finest things in life, but that is not how you roll so he finds himself falling for you and your weird ways

A/N: Hello! I’ve been thinking about familiar! Jimin for so long you have no idea, feedback is always appreciated, also, tell me if you would like me to do a Part 2. Hope you like it! The original photo is not mine, credits to owner.

There are a few things about Magic that people just don’t realise, for once, it is real, but also, it is far more complex than any human mind can conceive.

Your first approach to magic could be described as anything other than easy, there always seemed to be something new to learn about it, and every time you thought it couldn’t get any weirder, the universe decided to grant your wishes and throw something far more bizarre than the last.

Now, the existence of familiars wasn’t quite a foreign concept for you, you’ve seen your coven full of animals when those witches assemblies took part every time the moon went full or during the massive festivals that took part on Samhain, truth be told, you couldn’t help but feel a sting of jealousy reach you every time you encountered one of your superiors walk by and try to diminish you for having no familiar at all, a rare occurrence for a full witch that had already ended her training.

Although come to think of it, there were a lot of things that made the witches in your coven point you out, whether it was your lack of familiar, your withholding of using magic at all times or the fact that you much preferred to live a much more human life than theirs; Mrs Grimm, the veteran witch that was in charge of the cosy cafe you worked at, had gladly taken you under her wing, constantly reassuring you that having a familiar is such a complicated matter, you had nothing to worry about. 

You could distinctly remember the one time she lectured you on how hunting for a familiar was pretty much like hunting down your soulmate, except that every time you came close, they would run away, plus, there was no telling whether they would be a cliché black cat or a spider, the only thing sure was that once they were ready, they would find you, not the other way around; you had wanted to ask her at the time if, after all her years on Earth, she had found her familiar, but you feared the answer would be a no, mirroring yourself on her, since no animal seemed to ever be around her. 

 “Yoongs, are you sure you can close the shop by yourself?” you told the boy as you wrapped the scarf tighter around your neck and stepped outside to the cold weather, it wasn’t even winter but somehow the Earth decided to play pretend during summer nights that year.

“Yeah, I’ve done it plenty of times before, Y/N” Yoongi was that handsome dude you would encounter once in a lifetime, working odd hours at the cafe on a night where you had a paper due and were rushing to the nearest cafe to recharge and after crushing on him, you would never see him again, he just had that kind of vibe to him, everyone knew it, which is why Mrs Grimm seemed to keep him in the shop to attract costumers, though he had started working a few months after you, you had never come to know exactly how he came into the picture, one day he was just...there, behind the counter, delivering the most perfect lattes you had ever tasted “Go on then, you don’t want to keep your gram waiting” he flashed you one of his infamous gummy smiles as sarcastic as he could to get you going, which you did.

Okay, perhaps you shouldn’t have lied to Yoongi, or taken advantage that Mrs Grimm, who could tell from a mile radius when you were lying,  wasn’t working the shop just so you could get a night out of the shop, but some days were better than others, the past ones had been the worst ones in a while, but you couldn’t just say that you weren’t feeling up to it, as much as magic was a thing, bills were bills and they needed to be paid somehow. 

Clutching the scarf tighter to your body as the wind picked up, a loud hissing caused you to stop dead in your tracks and turn your gaze towards the left side of the sidewalk, a calico cat catching your attention as it stepped backwards, forced by two other cats that were hissing ferally at him, within a second you found yourself shooing them away once one of them took its paw off the ground and launched towards the three-coloured feline, crouching down and offering your hand out, you tried calling for it, only to notice how uncomfortably he limped towards you.

“It’s getting colder out here, and you’re hurt” you observed while scratching its chin, the cat closing its eyes contentedly “Wanna come home with me?” at that the cat opened its eyes almost comically, but let you cradle it between your arms nonetheless, the soft bumping of your heart along with the warmth from your scarf lulling it to a much-needed sleep.

The first few nights with Jimin, which you soon found out was the cat’s name noticing a small name tag while bandaging his limping paw,  were hard to get accustomed to, finding his eyes shimmering in the darkness as he lay awake near the couch during one of your trips to the kitchen for a glass of water in the middle of the night.

“Try not to get to comfy, yeah?” you used to say, thinking that maybe, since he had a name tag, even without information, and with him being fully recovered,  you could somehow find his owner in no time, cats don’t stray too far from their home right? 

Wrong. For all you knew, perhaps Jimin had walked all the way from another continent, no one in a decent radius had even ever seen a calico cat before. Jimin’s gaze always seemed to mock you when the usual midnight ‘try not get comfy’ phrase left your lips, a routine of some sort.

You see, Jimin had soon found out that you were actually a very, very heavy sleeper–except for your regular trips to the kitchen somewhere between 2 and 3 am, and he planned to use that to his advantage. With all honesty, at first, he thought you were dense, not noticing that he didn’t have an actual owner, not noticing that you were in fact, his witch; he had been prepared to present himself in a fancy way– a very characteristic asset of his– but getting jumped by not one, but two familiars gone rouge, and having to get cared for, yeah, that was most definitely not in his plans. 

A second thought then occurred to him after the second night at your apartment, it wasn’t supposed to be, but then again, the universe had never really been on his side ever since he slept through that Ostara ritual a few years back, what if, and that’s probably only him overthinking, what if you weren’t actually a witch? what if you were just a good samaritan that happened to witness his state of need for care and offered yourself?  You hadn’t even once tried to use magic on his dislocated paw, after all. 

And that’s exactly how he decided to roam around your apartment, at night, while you took those weirdly long baths, while on the phone with someone he couldn’t quite place.

“Come on, come on Y/N, there has to be something, anything” he mumbled to himself while unlocking the door to the only room that was left for him to roam, he couldn’t really tell what exactly he was looking for; at first, he thought you might have had some of the weird ingredients witches kept on their cabinets, but after opening and closing the kitchen cupboards, he gave up; right now, presented by the sight of tons of books scattered everywhere in the stuffy room, he could only hope to find your book of shadows, witches weren’t supposed to stay away from them right? then again, you might not even be a witch yourself.

He also wasn’t sure when exactly he had passed out on the floor next to some old philosophy books, but he sure thanked that he had done so in his cat form as morning came and you took him in your arms hurriedly “Hey, how did you-never mind, we have to get going”

The route wasn’t long, and he could soon tell where he was as his nose was met with perfectly roasted notes of coffee grounds, you had placed him on top of the counter as you went to talk with the old witch that owned the place, he could instantly tell she was one by the pendant hanging off her neck, but what he wasn’t counting on, was to encounter him.

Watching Yoongi serve clients those pretty, heavy coloured pastries while he was dressed in black and directed a small shy smile at them, was probably one of your favourite parts of working at the cafe, today it was no exception; until he came across Jimin and stood beside him, locking eyes for a little too long, and- did Yoongi just hissed at the cat? Surely your mind was playing tricks on you. You had spent a few hours early in the morning just sulking in bed, deciding that bringing Jimin to work was the perfect way to get people to recognise him, if no one claimed to be his owner by the end of the day, you would just let him stay home with you, you had grown fond of the feline after all.

The clock had barely struck eight as you got home, cat in hand and gently placing him on top of the kitchen aisle, ready for the daily routine of feeding you both before binge-watching whatever on Netflix. You turned your back to him as you washed your hands when a loud noise of something falling from the counter resonated in the apartment 

“Ah! Jimin! You scared-” the towel you held between your hands dropped to the floor and was followed by a whole five seconds of screaming as your eyes opened as big as plates as you saw this blond-haired man sitting prettily on your kitchen  counter, legs dangling off the edge, well,  this was definitely not how he pictured it “Who are you and what did you do to Jimin?” 

“Well- if you promise not to scream again, I’ll tell you” followed by silence from you, he felt you were ready for his explanation “I’m Jimin! hi, Y/N!” his eyes grew into crescents as he smiled and brought his hand up to wave at you, and if he thought that you screaming at him shifting was unexpected enough, the thought of you launching forward and throwing hands at him hadn’t even crossed his mind “No wait wait wait stop- ah!” 

“I CHANGED IN FRONT OF YOU!”

“Yeah… such a sight, you know?” it didn’t even take you a whole second to launch yourself again against him, but this time he only laughed it off 

“Wait so- you’re my familiar then?” he cautiously formed a flower cup with his hands and rested it against his chin, smiling at you “What took you so long to shift? I thought you were a normal cat!”

“Yeah well, I could ask the same thing, you didn’t even use magic when you saw me hurt! I thought you were a human!” he pouts and finally jumps off from the counter, deciding to just let his weight rest against it “Yoongi told me- you know, you’re technically witch royalty, Y/N”

“I know” 

“I can’t wait to tell Jungkook! Oh dear, he is going to lose it!” his over-joyful tone of voice really contrasted the inner thoughts going on inside your head at the time, it was no secret you were one of the most powerful young witches of the era, but that just wasn’t you.

“Jimin, no” your voice was so quiet, it was surprising that Jimin had caught it from the way he was currently pacing around, a smile plastered on his face as he went on and on about his plans now that he knew who his master was, but he was your familiar after all, there was this fate-driven understanding between the two, it only took his a couple seconds to understand that your magic was not something you were comfortable with.

“Oh, that’s okay then” he smiled at you, every drop of energy drowned from him and you couldn’t help but feel guilty. You could only picture how much it would mean for a familiar to get to know they were paired with a high ranking witch, only to have it taken away from them by the witch herself, being completely honest, now that he had walked into your life, you couldn’t help but feel like you were dragging him down to a non-magic world like you were stripping him away from everything he was.

But Jimin was the sweetest anyone could be, whether he was in human or cat form, he never left your side from that day on, Jimin had soon found out that there were bad days for you, days where he was grateful you had let him in, not just your life, but yourself as well, he had tried to assure you, he had just been thrilled to learn he was your familiar, that it didn’t matter to him whether you prefer to stay in the human world or in the magic realm, he was just glad to be by your side.

On the better days, he actually liked to tease you enough for you to begin training magic again, up until you had gradually become more powerful than before. A few weeks in, you both fell in a comfortable synergy where you began enjoying magic like you used to when you were younger and Jimin had learnt to stay away from magic, as much as shifting even less than before; even though if you had, for any reason, denied him cuddles while on his human form, he learnt you wouldn’t deny him if he looked up at you with teary eyes in his cat form.

Somewhere of a few months into him being practically a roommate, Jimin started working at the café, taking over baking duty, bickering non-stop with Yoongi when they were both needed to serve costumers. 

It was a usual Saturday in the afternoon where Jimin secluded himself a few minutes before closing time to get things ready for Sunday baking, just the two of you in the shop without much to do, his phone started buzzing non-stop with incoming messages, you walked to where it was, and you truly did knew better than to take a peek at it but curiosity got the best of you as the first message you saw was a 

“Hey, how’s the plan on getting to the Royal House going?”

If you didn’t knew any better, you would have sworn your sould had just left your body as you reminded yourself of all the times Jimin had helped you with your magic, how he had managed to convince you that he had no ill intentions behind all those hours you both had spent coming up with new spells, he had you fooled saying that he had adapted to a much more human life.

“Y/N?” Jimin walked out from the  baking room, noticing how tightly you help onto his phone “Y/N what are you-”

“So it was all part of some wicked plan, huh?” you rose your gaze to fix it on his, anger clearly seeping from your eyes, he wasn’t sure how, but he instantly knew he had fucked up “All of- ALL OF THIS WAS JUST FOR YOU TO GET YOUR ASS TO THE ROYAL HOUSE? HUH?” 

He couldn’t even get to you on time as he stood frozen facing the glass door through which you had just walked out, as he reached for his phone that was left by you on the counter, everything made sense, he had once told Jungkook about it, overly excited by learning he was your familiar, but things really did change, he didn’t even remember the text, it wasn’t his fault that guy literally took months to answer!

You crouched down on your sidewalk as a black cat meowed by, disappearing from your line of view, followed by a presence on your side “Jimin is a good kid, you know?” Yoongi said in a hushed tone “And he really, truly cares about you”

“Yeah, that’s apparently not true” you scoffed “I’m just an easy ticket for the highest magic rank”

Yoongi exhaled loudly from beside you and knowing him, he just most likely rolled his eyes “Y/N, I’m talking here as a familiar, not as some empathetic being, we just want what is best for our master” silence followed and he took it as a signal to keep talking “He was spoiled rotten, I’ll give you that. But now? he can make the perfect latte, no magic involved. I fear he might take my spot as the preferred barista”

On second thought, perhaps you let your family problems get the best of you, whether or not Jimin had been excited about being a highly ranked familiar, he had every right to be, it was you who had no right to overthink his actions and instantly blame him for trying to take advantage of you. You would like to think for the past months by his side, you knew better than that.

Frankly, the art of apologising was never one you would consider yourself good at, which is why you found yourself silently doing your routine around the apartment, this time not a single peep could be heard from Jimin either, as he tried to respect your space as much as you wanted it to last.

You walked further down the hallway to where the rooms were, surely Jimin was keeping himself in there “Hey Jimin have you seen-” your words were cut short by said blond walking ethereally out of the shower, towel hanging low on his hips as time seemed to stop and you couldn’t pry your eyes from the way the steam emanated from behind him, or how his hair kept on dripping down the front of his body, some drops making it to the wooden floor, he looked up surprised as he breathed your name, rapidly glancing down at his almost naked form and blushing furiously but somehow gains enough confidence to reach out for your hands “I’m so sorry, I really am. I used to be an asshole, trust me I know and I don’t deserve to be your familiar at all bu-”

“It’s okay, Chim” you look up to meet his eyes, full of pleading in them “It was wrong from me to accuse you of something that didn’t even happen in the first place” you smiled softly and it took no time for him to mirror you, both of you enveloped in a much more comforting silence as his gaze fixated on your lips and back to your eyes as if asking for permission, butterflies that you didn’t even know were there, making a mess inside your belly as you brought your right hand to cup his cheek and helped him lean into you, eyes closed, placing his soft plump lips against your own, hair dampening the front of your shirt when his left thumb caressed your cheek as he deepened the kiss running his tongue to part your lips, right hand placed on your side in an attempt to bring you closer to him, making you hyper-aware of the warmth  in which his body enveloped you in; after separating for air and him casting one of his most adorable smiles  as both of you kept locking eyes, his mouth started leaving a trail of wet kissed down your jaw to your neck, exhaling a moan, both of your hands found themselves on the small of his naked back, lightly scratching the exposed skin; his nose brushing a eskimo kiss against the bit of skin where your jaw and neck connected  which he had just marked with pink blooms all over.

“Well that was most definitely a better way to make up than what I had in mind” he whispered in a breathy voice against your ear

“What did you have in mind?”

“Turning into a kitten until you forgave me?” he chuckled lightly

“Well you might just like this one better” you said as you took his hand in yours and led him towards your bedroom

[filmista]

Gilda (1946): An uncoventional femme fatale

-Isn't it wonderful? Nobody has to apologize, because we were both stinkers, weren't we? Isn't it wonderful? -Wonderful.

Gilda could be the ultimate example of a film in which a single scene transcends the entire film, making the viewer forget about everything. Some may not have even seen it yet, but they do know of that iconic striptease.

What is film noir without the relationship between the protagonists? What is left in a film noir when we strip it of this element, of those murky and sickly as well as fascinating relationships?

Make no mistake: the sophistication that characterizes film noir would be meaningless without the protagonists. And in this sense, Gilda has its own characteristics, something of a film noir, but with a development in its characters very different from the genre.

Here, the femme fatale doesn’t need a man to lead "to perdition." Her reason for being isn’t that, far from it. Therefore, Gilda breaks with that film noir rule; here the protagonists drag each other in that whirlpool that only brings misfortunes, which is resolved in a totally different way in this film. 

One of the characteristics of film noir is that of the love triangle although, in this case, we could speak of two love triangles, one of them very particular. At the beginning of the film, we see Ballin rescue Farrell from the street, from the underworld of Buenos Aires.

He has saved his life; one feels indebted and the other responsible for the act. Next we see the third component of this triangle, the cane. A cane that hides a  a deadly weapon.

Ballin: It is a most faithful and obedient friend: it is silent when I want it to be silent, but talks when I want it to talk.

Farrell: Is that your idea of a friend?

Ballin: That is my idea of a friend.

It’s not trivial to consider that cane as another member of the relationship between the two men; in fact, when Ballin introduces Gilda, Farrell says: "I thought we were three already”, referring to the cane. 

That strange triangle is agreed upon and closed with the following words by Ballin: “This I must be sure of, that there is no woman anywhere. Gambling and women do not mix.” Farrell becomes Ballin's right-hand, his best friend and confidant. 

And there it is, the second triangle, and this time, the real one. Ballin appears with his new wife, Gilda, Farrell's old love. As they walk up the stairs, guided by Gilda's siren song, Farrell mumbles an "I hope everything is as before", which sounds more like a wish that he knows won’t be fullfiled; his relationship with Ballin isn’t going to be the same as before. He stands at the bedroom door while we see on his face that he recognises the voice, that voice that he has heard sing so many times in the past.

Ballin tells him that "he seems stunned" listening from the doorway. When Farrell reminds him of the "no women" pact, Ballin replies "my wife is not a woman.” And it is then when Ballin asks Gilda the question:

-Ballin: Are you decent? -Gilda: Sure I’m decent.

The tension between Gilda and Farrell is evident. We don't know what happened between them (that could be another movie), but the wound there is palpable; Ballin is no stranger to that, he realises it perfectly. The Casino workers notice too, in fact they joke about it. When Ballin asks Gilda not to call him "Mr. Farrell", but Johnny, she says "Johnny is a very difficult name to remember and very easy to forget."

And here that obsessive triangle unfolds, so obsessive that, despite Ballin's suspicions that Johnny and his wife knew each other from before, he asks him to stay near her, to take care of her. It seems to be a game that Ballin enjoy. That macabre game reaches its height during a dinner in which the three share a table, in which they toast the misfortune of the woman who made Johnny suffer:

Ballin Mundson : Now then, before we were interrupted, I believe we were about to drink a toast. So: disaster to the wench who did wrong by our Johnny. No, Gilda? You won't drink to that?

Gilda : Why not? Disaster to the wench!

When Farrell admits to Ballin that they knew each other from before, he says, "I taught her what she knows." Up to that point we can imagine what Johnny has meant in Gilda's life. Thinking that Ballin is dead, Gilda and Johnny get married in a wedding that could predict what comes next: we only see her through a window, through the rain that falls outside.

Johnny begins to punish her by leaving her alone, humiliating her, to such an extent that she has to go see him at the office: “Hello. Do you remember me? I am Gilda, your wife ”. Farrell enjoys humiliating her; He lights her cigarette by placing the lighter at waist height, so she has to "bow" to light the cigarette.

She married Ballin out of revenge on Johnny, and he marries her to humiliate her. So much so, that their new home is dominated by a huge portrait of Ballin. She is a prey to her past. She tries to run away from Johnny, but wherever she tries to go, he torments her.

When everything is over, Gilda surrenders and decides to leave the country; He returns to ask her to leave together, while apologizing for his behavior: “We were both scoundrels. Isn’t it wounderful". That obsessive triangle becomes a couple of neurotics, in which with their strange relationship of emotional dependence., they feed each other until they reach the point of recognising that it’s wonderful that they don’t have to ask for forgiveness or that anyone is guilty of anything, the two have been just as awful.

But Ballin returns from the shadows to claim what is his: his wife.

But prophetically it’s a member of the previous triangle, the knife hidden in the cane, that is going to solve this triangle, and this time forever. Ballin dies at the hand of his best friend, 

The tagline for the film announced that "there is no woman like Gilda". There may not be a more iconic female character in film history. She has such strength on  screen that perhaps because of that the viewer may not have been able to judge her in depth. She has nothing to do with the rebellious woman we all thought her to, nor is she a man-eater; Gilda is simply different. She is a woman with an apparent happiness, that hides an immense sadness and melancholia. 

A woman who complains about "so many people and so much loneliness.” Her need for attention and love is palpable. From the moment she meets Johnny Farrell, The expression on her face changes: the past has returned. When Johnny first goes to the ballroom run by Ballin, he meets a beautiful woman and, when he asks about her they tell him: she is a harpy.

Harpies, fantastic beings with the face of a woman and the body of a bird of prey. In Greek mythology, they were the beings in charge to enforce the punishment of Zeus to Fineo, stealing his food. Later on, various traditions gave them malevolent connotations, carriers of catastrophes. 

When Ballin appears to be dead, Farrell finds himself between two harpies reading Ballin's will and instructions.

Gilda can’t be considered the classic film noir femme fatale. She seeks to torment Johnny, but in order to make him  jealous, her end goal is not money, as is often the case with the film noir woman; She is in love with him, she marries Ballin for money, yes, but it’s a question that Ballin was not oblivious to when he married her; for him she is a beautiful and hungry little girl. 

He feels like a man, he realises himself as such by feeding her. But Gilda's wound is very deep; referring to Farrell, she says: "I was once loyal to a man, and look what happened." Ballin justifies her marriage to him: “She said she was born the day she met me. The three of us have no past, only future. Interesting, right?". Those same words are the ones Johnny used when he met Ballin, who had been born the day he met him.

There are two very important themes in Gilda: hatred, hatred that’s been shaped by Gilda’s pain. She reiterates many times how much she hates Johnny, but it’s a simple excuse; She loves him so much that she has had to turn the feeling into hate as a barrier against pain: “Hate can be a very intense emotion (…). Hate is the only thing that warms me. ”

And Farrell in turn thinks about her: “I hated her so much that I couldn't forget her. I was in the air I breathed.” The reunion with Johnny makes her want to plunge into a self-destructive spiral that, that would destroy everything she knows.  Her words to Johnny are very significant: "I hate you so much that I would destroy myself to drag you down with me."

But the love game she plays with Johnny reveals something else: She doesn’t hesitate to be seen with other men to arouse his jealousy, a game into which she falls very easily. At the Carnival, with another identity, with a mask, they dance as it seems they did before. She’s mischievous: “I can help you regain practice. I mean dancing. "

He asks her to throw her hat back. He shoves her away violently while she laughs amused. The love-hate game between them is very powerful. We can’t forget the famous slap that he gives her ... although he doesn’t escape a few himself. The game of erotic power play and violence often present in film noir is very noticeable here. 

When he takes Gilda home, she does’t hesitate to stress again and again that they are alone. He can’t avoid the temptation and goes up to the bedroom. She has removed her disguise, she is Gilda again, a Gilda in the shadows. They hesitate whether to approach each other or not: "I hate you so much that I think I'm going to die from it ... darling." Their neurotic behaviour could be summed up in this phrase, in that kiss during which the two explode when they say that they hate each other to death.

Gilda’s death drive leads her to an obsessive superstition, another important theme in this film, in which she leaves her life and actions in the hands of that belief, she sees signs everywhere and subjects her life to that destiny. The night the three of them toast to the misfortune that Johnny suffered (herself), she is afraid to drink the glass, as if consuming the champagne closes a pact with the devil.

But after a moment of doubt, she drinks without hesitation, as if that liquid were a poison and she wanted to die right there. She doesn’t care that she’s toasting to her own misfortunes. She’s so superstitious that when she tells the maid, she asks her not to repeat it. Whilst being in luck at roulette someone says "lucky in the game, unlucky in love", and she stops playing to avoid tempting luck. On her wedding day with Johnny, a lonely, sad and glamorousness wedding, a wedding that we as spectators only see through a window, she says: “The rain has stopped. Maybe it means something. ”

Of course Gilda is not the typical film noir woman. She is a tremendously sad woman, sadness caused by love, and who seeks to flee from herself, from everything inside herself.

A woman afraid of her husband and destiny, fearful of life, in a word. In the end, feeling cornered by everyone, the only thing left for her to do is a farewell worthy of her, an iconic dance: She knows she’s being observed by everyone, especially by Johnny. A song in which she asks to blame someone else, "Put the blame on me."

Don't blame Gilda; she’s already fleeing Buenos Aires. But Johnny asks her to go with her. What was Gilda looking for? To be loved. Nothing more, nothing less. Gilda represents the “whore” who wants to emancipate herself to become a mother. Almost no woman in film noir is a mother, a femme fatale is not a mother, she’s a temporary distraction and obstacle to the hero. 

But Gilda wants to escape such a condition, and we could really see her as a loving mother and living together with Johnny. In Gilda the woman could be seen as a symptom of the man, Gilda comes to substitute those other symptoms that these men have (sadistic in the case of Ballin, vengeful in the case of Farrell), and take them out on her. 

Film noir always plays with appearances: nothing is what it seems to be. But in Gilda, this premise turns to "but in the end everything was what it seemed to be." That game of appearances, like at the Carnival, ends when the participants remove their mask, this time, in a violent way. Neither is Ballin the good Samaritan who saves lives altruistically, nor is his Casino his main activity, not even his death is true. We are shown his shadow on different occasions, in profile; we never see him fully.

Gilda and Johnny’s life is also a lie, to bear their pain. The Casino is itself a lie, a place that Ballin uses to hide his work, and that he has arranged to be able to  see without being seen. His office is upstairs, from where, thanks to a set of lights, blinds and windows, he can see everything, like an omniscient God.

It’s the only way out of the suffocating atmosphere of the game room. Gilda is no stranger to what that game of points of view can provide to her, on two occasions she knows she’s being observed by Johnny, she seeks to be observed by him, but she doesn’t see him watching her, as if he doesn't want to see her face and guess what she’s thinking at the moment. The final moment, Gilda’s iconic dance, seems meticulously prepared for him to observe her, but also for him to see how others look at her. What does Farrell do? He stops her.  He can’t stand what’s happening.

Doesn't that moment remind us of this one from Paris, Texas?

Or this one?

Two absolutely different women, but in a sense mirrors of each Gilda is the whore who wants to emancipate herself to become a mother; Jane is the mother who emancipates herself and becomes a whore, once Travis appears, she takes the path back to that role of mother. Could that moment that game of points of view, be the beginning of that emancipation, of that path?

That claustrophobic environment and that game of viewpoints is exemplified in Gilda and Johnny's wedding: We only see her through a window, through a rain curtain, we don't even hear what is being said inside the room. We are spectators. But aren’t we during the entire film?

Gilda’s iconic phrase: If I'd been a ranch, they would have named me "The Bar Nothing.", is now more ironic than ever. No, she is not the free woman we were made to believe; she has an owner, Johnny. The mare is back with the stallion.

@purecinema​ @idasessions​ @missdubois​ @mad-prophet-of-the-airwaves​ 

[yourdeepestfathoms]

The Crucible (part three)

[UK Tour; Carrie AU]

Part 1 Part 2

Word count: 10,566

TW: Bullying, vomit

-----------------------

-Mind Over Matter-

  “So, you and Anne Boleyn…”

Katherine looked up at Mulaney, her right eye twitching. A barrage of emotions blistered through her whenever she thought about her cousin- anger, sadness, mourning, betrayal, happiness, guilt, pain, longing. It was a flurry of madness that she hated having to deal with. And hearing that name come out of this man’s mouth didn’t make her feel any better. It didn’t sound right when the detective said it, like Anne had just been some character in a movie that was killed off too soon for a cheap sad moment. She was a real person, whether Katherine wanted to remember that or not.

  “Friends until the end?” 

  “I wouldn’t say that,” Katherine said.

  “And why is that?” Mulaney asked.

  “We’re cousins,” Katherine answered. “She was born a little bit before me, and we grew up together, so I guess everybody just assumed we were going to be close forever.” She shrugged. “But we had our differences.”

  “Differences about Joan Seymour?” 

  “Differences about a lot of things,” Katherine clarified. “I played with Barbie. She played with horses. She’s a back to front. I’m a front to back.”

Mulaney blinked at her and then turned his head to look at Madeline, who was trying very hard not to smile in amusement. Katherine set her shoulders back, smirking. It seemed Mulaney didn’t know how to reply to her statement because he moved on, taking a piece of paper out of a yellow folder on the table.

  “Do you know a girl named Donna Kellogg?” He asked.

  “Yeah, I know Kellogg,” Katherine replied smoothly. “Every guy in school had a bowl of her cereal.”

Mulaney stared fixedly down at Katherine. At his side, Madeline snorted a laugh, but was quick to cover her mouth and straighten herself back up professionally. Katherine let out a huge sigh, wiping the grin from her face.

  “She moved to Germany in Year 12.” She said. “What about her?”

  “She got an email from your cousin about four days before the prom,” Mulaney said.

  “What’d it say?” Katherine asked with mock enthusiasm.

Mulaney peered down at the paper in his hands and began to read, “‘Dear Dirty Donna--”

Katherine raised her eyebrows and exhaled a rueful breath, rolling her eyes skyward. That DEFINITELY was her cousin's writing.

  “--so I’m out of the prom, but they’re not going to get away with this. I don’t know exactly what we’re going to do, but I guarantee you everyone is going to get a big’-- Expletive--‘surprise.’” Mulaney put the paper down and looked back at Katherine’s pale face. “Now, what do you suppose she meant by that?”

And, for once, Katherine made no snarky reply, only able to shrug silently, as her words were too caught in her throat to answer.

------

Mr. Stephens’s creative writing class was one of those rare cases where everyone wanted to be in it, regardless of whether they could write or not. And for a good reason, too. He was a laid back, supportive, jolly man who always made his lessons fun and engaging. His room was like no other, either, airy and full of light. He rarely ever turned on the overhead lights, opting to instead let the sun come in from blue-and gold-tinted windows he had paid for to be put in himself. 

A jungle of indoor plants snarled the interior, all fit with small golden plaques with names on them (one of the best assignments they had yet was to choose a plant and write a story about it; Katherine, personally, had chosen Hornet, the sassy lesbian honeysuckle). Shined mahogany bookshelves were arranged all around the room with their books sorted precisely in alphabetical order. Putting any borrowed books back into the right place was a rule even the most mischievous of students obeyed. Racks and drawers full of papers and pencils and pens of every color were set up for everyone’s writing pleasure, and there were several places to sit and write when it was time to work. Sometimes the black and pink bungee chair, sometimes the big blue bean bag or the strange egg-shaped cubbyhole you could climb into and nestle in the blankets and pillows that filled it.

The tables were assorted in a very different way, too. There were six in total: Fantasy, Horror, Romance, Sci-Fi, Adventure, and Historical. At the beginning of the year, students got to pick their seats at whatever genre table they were most interested in, letting people meet others with the same interests. Or, if you were like Katherine, you just bustled into the same table with all your friends.

Mr. Stephens was her first class of the day and was always what she needed to get energized for the rest of school. The sun was out again, bleeding its early Monday morning light through the tinted windows and casting beams of gold and blue across the room. All her friends, including her beautiful Anna, were already inside when she got there, along with a few others. Bessie was sharpening several pencils at the expensive electric pencil sharpener by the door, while Maria looked through the Q-T selection of books, and Anne, Maggie, and Anna were sitting at the table they all had claimed at the beginning of the year: Fantasy (although Katherine had debated on going to the Romance table, but several of her friends didn’t like the romance genre, and Anne had proclaimed that the “gang had to stick together,” so she gave up that option).

  “Kitty!!” Anne cried gleefully, throwing her arms in the air.

Katherine smiled as she walked over, sitting beside Anna. The two shared a quick kiss.

  “Morning, gang,” Katherine said. “What’s the tea?”

  “Prom,” Maggie stated. “You guys picked out your dresses yet?”

  “A dress? Me?” Anna snorted. “If I ever wore a dress and heels, I'd look like a freaking giraffe or something.”

  “Anna, shut up!” Bessie suddenly barked, whipping her head around from the pencil sharpener. “You would look great!”

They all stared at her in silence, watching as her face slowly faded to a light red color, a hugely bright contrast with her bleached white hair. She cleared her throat awkwardly.

  “What? Girls eat that shit up!” She said, and then frantically began sharpening her pencils again. The table laughed and nodded knowingly.

  “But no,” Anna said. “I’m not wearing a dress. Your girl is going with a suit.”

  “Ooooo!” The chorus of intrigued coos whisked around the table.

  “How fancy!” Anne said.

  “You are a lucky lady!” Maggie said to Katherine.

Katherine grinned brightly and leaned her head against her girlfriend’s shoulder. She sighed dreamily. “I know…”

  “I have mine picked out,” Maria said, walking over and sitting down with The Great Gatsby in her hands. “It’s orange.”

  “Oooo, nice pick!” Katherine commented. “Orange looks good on you!”

  “Why thank you!”

  “Okay, okay, question,” Maggie butt in as Bessie sat back down. “Do any of you know about waxing or shaving, you know--” She leaned in, “--down there? Like, for sex preparation?”

  “How naughty,” Anne teased, making Maggie stick her tongue out at her.

  “Well,” Katherine said expertly, “there are a few things you can do.” At her side, Anna shook her head and laughed. “There’s the rainforest. That’s where you don’t do anything at all. Hitler’s mustache. The landing strip. The Brazil.”

  “The Brazil?” Maggie laughed. “What does Brazil have to do with getting--your area waxed? Is it, like, the shape of the country?”

  “It’s because things like thongs and Brazil are so small you have to wax EVERYTHING to wear one.” Maria said.

  “Ohhh,” Maggie nodded. “Where is Brazil, anyway?”

Laughter and snickers and whispers suddenly bubbled loudly from the hallway, seeping in through the open door. A moment later, Joan entered wearing an oversized, rather ugly shade of pale yellow sweater and a long maroon skirt with small white flowers. She dragged her feet as she walked, not looking up, clutching her binders and folders close to her chest. 

Seeing her sent a sharp pang of guilt lancing through Katherine.

She had desperately tried to forget about Joan Seymour over the weekend, partially succeeding in that task, even when her father confronted her about it. But seeing the pathetic girl again sent all her shame come barreling back into her at full force. She could now see that she and her friends had ruined this class, once a place of serenity and peace, for Joan. Joan seemed...scared to even be attending.

  “Well, if it isn’t Prayin’ Joan!” Anne exclaimed. She jumped up and blocked Joan’s path, causing the younger and much scrawnier girl to reel back in fright. “I wonder who’s taking her to prom? Her mother?”

Katherine tried to laugh along with Maggie, Maria, and Bessie, but the sound raked her throat fiercely like talons of fire. She glanced to the side and saw that Anna had her jaw set firmly and a grim look in her eyes.

  “Leave her alone, Anne.” Anna said.

Joan tried to dodge around Anne to get to her table, but Anne stepped right back in front of her and she reared away again like she thought she would be burned if they were to make contact.

  “Come on, church girl!” Anne spread her arms in a grand gesture, smirking widely. Everyone in the class, even people out in the hallway, were watching, now. “Dance with me! I will make you see God!”

And then, out of the blue, Anne yelped out in fright as she suddenly crumpled to the floor. Katherine blinked in shock, watching the way her cousin had shifted her weight on her feet and slipped on her Heelys’s wheels--but that didn’t seem right. Anne hadn’t been leaning on her heels at all. It looked more like something had swept under her legs and made her fall--but what? There had been nothing there, nothing to trip her. She shuddered, and her skin began to crawl with goosebumps.

  “How’s your pussy, princess?” A boy at the Sci-Fi table asked over the laughter that had filled the room.

Anne shot up to her feet instantly, her face inflamed with rage. She glared at the boy, and her stared was filled with enough hate to make him snap his mouth shut immediately.

  “What are you laughing at?” She snarled. Her head whipped around to Joan. “The goddamn BITCH TRIPPED ME!!”

Is that what happened? Did Joan trip or push Anne? Had she finally snapped like that kid from Anna’s story on Friday night? But Joan hadn’t moved her arms or legs at all when Anne fell…

Katherine jerked out of her speculations when she saw that Anne was advancing on Joan with a murderous look in her eyes. Joan flinched away, as if she was expecting to be struck, and then there was suddenly the clattering of a chair to Katherine’s left; Anna was standing in between Anne and Joan.

  “What are you doing?” Anne demanded.

  “You’re being stupid, Anne.” Anna said calmly. “If you hit her, you’re definitely going to be thrown out of prom. Just sit down.”

Anne growled, but prom seemed to be more important to her than revenge, so she cast one like dark glare at Joan, and then let her anger snuff itself out for now. She returned to her chair like nothing happened. Anna turned to Joan, who was staring up at her with wide eyes as if she were Jesus Christ himself.

  “Are you alright?” Anna asked. She reached out to set a hand on Joan’s shoulder, but respectfully pulled it back when Joan flinched away. “Don’t listen to that gremlin. She’s just messing around.” And then she flashed Joan a dazzling smile that made Joan get an expression on her face that said she’s never been smiled at like that before.

  “Th-th-thank you…” Joan choked out, and then skittered past her to the Horror table, which she shared all alone (“Of course that crazy bitch would choose horror” was something Maggie had muttered the first day of class when Joan had chosen that genre).

Anna righted her chair and sat back down, looking like a true savior. 

  “Well, aren’t you just a knight in shining armor.” Anne said bitterly, and Anna grinned at her.

  “What can I say?” She said with a shrug. “I can never pass up the chance to be the hero to a poor damsel in distress.”

The bell rang a moment later and everyone who wasn’t already sitting down bustled over to their specific table. First period was the smallest class, with Katherine and her five friends obviously at Fantasy, three kids at Sci-Fi, two girls at Romance, three more at Adventure, no one at Historical, and then Joan all alone at Horror. Writing utensils and notebooks filled to the brim with stories and projects are brought out as Mr. Stephens entered from the hall.

  “Good morning, children!” He chimed happily. He was a slightly plump man with olive skin and dark brown hair he always had up in a man bun. The aquamarine flannel shirt he was wearing today made his green eyes pop brightly. “Let’s get this show on the road!”

After the initial opening for class, the lesson quickly curved into the topic of an assignment the students had been given last Friday, probably the only okay thing that happened on that day (aside from Katherine’s time with Anna in her car, of course).

  “As you know,” Mr. Stephens said, “last Friday I gave you all the task to write your own poem after selecting a word from my hat.” He held up the bedazzled top hat for reference. “Now we are going to read them! So…” He scanned the class, bypassing the people who usually always read first, like Bessie and Katherine and the boy with glasses in Adventure, for now. A smile broke out on his face. “Joan Seymour!”

Joan’s head whipped up so fast Katherine was surprised her neck didn’t break. She had been listlessly twirling a strand of her strangely natural white-blonde hair and writing in her small notebook with a black pen, which she accidentally sent flying across the room behind her when she was called on.

  “Present,” She sputtered. 

  “It’s not roll call, Joan,” Mr. Stephens said gently. 

  “Idiot,” Maggie muttered, rolling her eyes, and Mr. Stephens shot a glare at her and some of the other giggling students. He was one of few teachers who actually made an effort to stop the constant bullying Joan got in class. 

  “Did you write a poem?” Mr. Stephens asked. His voice was so patient and kind, his gaze merciful and lacking any irritation or scorn, despite the fact that Joan was floundering like a useless cow in a cattle chute. He never yelled at Joan or even got the slightest bit annoyed with her, even when she was being completely incompetent and probably deserved a good rapping on the knuckles with a ruler to get her head back on straight.

  “Oh-- Y-yes, sir.” Joan nodded.

  “Why don’t you come up and read it to us?” 

That seemed to be a death sentence for Joan, who became very rigid and pale. She opened and closed her mouth like a weird-eyed fish out of water, then finally choked out, “D-do I have to?”

Mr. Stephens tilted his head at her, sympathy in his gaze. “No,” He said. “But I would love to hear what you wrote.”

Joan perked up slightly, a new light flickering ever so slightly in her eyes. “You would?” She squeaked.

  “Yes, Joan,” Mr. Stephens smiled, and Katherine saw that he was telling the truth. He was genuinely interested in what Joan had written.

Joan thought for a second, then grabbed her notebook, stood up, and said, “Okay.”

Shyly, with her head angled to the floor, Joan shuffled up to the short stage-like platform at the front of the class used for reading out loud. Mr. Stephens motioned for her to sit in the big black leather computer chair he would let students use when presenting, but she shook her head, clearly too tense and nervous to sit down. Mr. Stephens respected her choice and didn’t push her.

  “What was the word you selected, Joan?” Mr. Stephens asked.

  “Umm-- Stone.” Joan answered. Now that she was up and centered, Katherine noticed violet and indigo bruises along her jawline and a split in her lip that definitely hadn’t been there on Friday.

  “And what is the name of your poem?”

Joan fumbled. “E-Evening Prayers.”

  “Oh my god.” Anne said loudly. Mr. Stephens shot her a sharp look, and she shut her mouth instantly.

  “Go ahead, Joan. Whenever you’re ready.” Mr. Stephens said kindly.

It took a moment and a few deep breaths for Joan to find her voice, but she eventually gathered all her courage and began to read:

  “Jesus watches from the wall,

But his face is cold as stone.

If he loves me,

As she tells me,

Why do I feel so all alone?”

A few giggles and snickers and mocking whispers whisked through the class, but Mr. Stephens shut them down quickly. Joan looked at him fearfully, and he gave her an encouraging nod to go on.

  “Baby savior, meek and mild,

What do you do with my prayers?

If you hear me,

Why do I feel that no one cares?”

Joan lost some of the tension in her shoulders, easing them back down into a more relaxed position. A strange flicker lit up in her eyes, like the first silvery wisps of a fresh flame. 

  “Mama sees inside my soul,

But her face is cold as stone.

If she loves me

Why do I feel so all alone?”

Was that...hate in Joan’s voice? Katherine tilted her head at the girl, suddenly filled with so many questions. Had she always been this interesting?

  “There's a movement in my head

Satan? Angels? What can it be?

It's growing!

It's stirring!

It's churning, shifting!

Bending!”

Joan released a shaky breath and raised her glowing grey-blue eyes. 

Silence. 

Mr. Stephens would have said anything, but he still seemed to be too enamored to speak, in awe at his timid student’s raw poem.

Then, Maggie raised one of her hands and spoke without waiting to be called on, “Shouldn’t people like that be home schooled?”

Mr. Stephens blinked at her, his eyebrows furrowing together. “People like what, Maggie?” He asked cautiously, falling right into Maggie’s trap.

  “Creepy religious people,” Maggie said blithely.

Joan flinched back as if she had been struck and hunched her shoulders around her neck. Her fingers grip tightly around the edges of her notebook, staring at her poem with a sudden expression of shame and hatred and disgust.

  “Yeah, aren’t we, like, not supposed to talk about religion in school unless it’s in history class?” Bessie piped up.

Mr. Stephens glared at all of them. “Does anyone have anything to say about the poem?” He said, steering the lesson back on track without giving Maggie or Bessie any attention.

  “It was disturbing,” Anne offered. “I think that’s the most little Joey has said in class all year!”

Laughter erupted in the classroom, far too much for Mr. Stephens to wrangle. Joan shrunk back, like she was hoping she could disappear right into the wall, and Katherine thought she could see tears shining in her eyes.

  “Got anything else to share with us, sweetheart?” Anne asked in a sickly sweet voice. “Or are you done scaring us?”

  “Asshole…”

The laughter stopped abruptly. Joan’s head jerked up sharply. All eyes turned to look at Anna, who was leaning back in her chair and pressing her tongue against the inside of her lip.

  “Anna?” Mr. Stephens said. “Did you say something?”

  “Yes,” Anne said, her words sliding slowly from her mouth like slithering snakes. “What did you say?”

  “I said awesome.” Anna said, sitting up. “I just thought that Joan’s poem was awesome.” She looked at Anne. “Didn’t you, Annie?”

Anne glowers at her, growling lowly. Joan, on the other hand, had the exact opposite reaction. Her eyes were wide and lit up, like that had been the nicest thing anyone has ever said to her, and a bright pink blush dusted her cheeks.

  “Yes!” Mr. Stephens nodded his head enthusiastically. “Awesome! That is a great way to describe Joan’s wonderful poem.” He smiled at Anna, then at Joan. “Thank you for reading, Joan. You did very good.”

Joan dipped her head in thanks and hurried back to her table. When she sat back down, she immediately glanced at Anna, a wistful look of adoration in her eyes. Katherine noticed it, and things began to click together in her brain.

  “Anna,” Mr. Stephens said, “since you spoke up, would you like to go next?”

Anna shrugged coolly. “Sure.” She stood up, grabbing her red spiral journal, and walked to the platform at the front of the class. She, like Joan, decided not to sit in the computer chair, opting to stand up tall before her peers.

  “GO ANNA!!” Her friends cheered from the Fantasy table and she rolled her eyes in a good natured way.

  “The word I got was ‘eagle,’” She said, then looked down at the page she was opened up to in her journal. “Dreamer In Disguise. By Anna von Cleves.” She cleared her throat, and then began reading smoothly:

  “An eagle's just another bird

Until he can spread his wings.”

Maggie suddenly leapt onto her chair, flapping her arms and letting out a bird-like screech. The class all giggled, except Joan, who looked startled, and Anna, who looked used to these kinds of antics.

  “Guys!” Mr. Stephens barked. “Quiet!”

The class settled. Mr. Stephens looked at Maggie.

  “Maggie--that was a pretty good bird, but hush up.” He said.

Maggie bowed and then plopped back into her seat. Mr. Stephens turned to Anna, nodding at her to go on.

  “A river is just a sheet of ice

'til winter turns to spring.

And though the clouds may block the sun

Don't mean that it's left the sky.

Just when you think you've seen it all

There's more that meets the eye.

Like things I dream and things I feel

There's more to me than I reveal.

And 'cause I shine in quiet ways

I'm someone you don't recognize.

I'm a diamond in the rough

A dreamer in disguise.

An eagle's just another bird

Until he can spread his wings.”

Applause filled the classroom. Anna smirked proudly, bowing her head.

  “Very good, Anna!” Mr. Stephens said. “Class,” He turned to the others. “Any comments?”

  “Beautiful.”

The marveled comment came before anyone else could say anything, spoken before Mr. Stephens had barely even finished his sentence. Joan had a thoughtful look in her shimmering eyes. A small smile was tugged at the corners of her pale lips.

  “Beautiful, yes!” Mr. Stephens said. “Excellent, Joan!”

  “Yeah, nice one, period girl.” Anne tittered.

Like that, the light in Joan’s eyes is gone. She looked away, suddenly ashamed. Anna seemed to notice this on the platform and glared viciously at Anne.

  “Shut up, Anne.” She snarled lowly.

  “Go on, Joan,” Mr. Stephens said to his shy student. “Tell us how the poem spoke to you.”

Joan looked back up, fidgeting, and then stuttered out, “I-I just think it said that just because something or someone seems one way, doesn’t mean they have to be that way.”

Mr. Stephens beamed. Anne gave Katherine a “what is wrong with this girl?” sort of look, while Anna looked vaguely rapt. She smiled at Joan, and Joan blushed madly.

  “Very good observation, Joan!” Mr. Stephens said.

  “Yeah,” Anna agreed. “I think you have the poem more thought out that I do, and I’m the one who wrote it!”

Joan ducked her head with a shy smile. “Thanks,” She whispered, and all the pieces fell into place in Katherine’s head.

Did Joan like Anna?

Katherine spent the rest of first period pondering this- Joan was hopelessly shy, but it could very well be possible. The way she looked at Anna… There was some form of longing in her eyes. Like she wanted Anna to like her--not even in a romantic way, just to--like her. As a person.

The bell startled Katherine out of her thoughts and she shook her head. Anna had to run off quickly to get to her next class that was all the way on the other side of the school, and Bessie and Maggie left in a hurry, too. Katherine was about to head out with Maria to the next class they shared together when she noticed Joan still gathering her things.

  “I’ll meet you there, okay?” Katherine said to Maria.

Maria shrugged and nodded. “Okay!”

Katherine walked over to Joan, catching the attention of her cousin, who was still in the class and now watching them with interest.

  “Hey, Joan,” Katherine said.

Joan jumped and looked at Katherine, then over her shoulder, as if thinking she were talking to someone else. She blinked up at the older girl with big grey-blue eyes, and Katherine could see so much painful anxiety in them.

  “Earlier--that was nice.” Katherine said. “That was really nice, what you said about Anna’s poem. I thought it was beautiful, too.”

Joan continued to stare at her, frozen like a deer in headlights.

  “Look-- Umm-- About the other day… I don’t know, things just sort of got out of hand and--”

  “Haven’t you had enough?!”

This time, it was Katherine’s turn to flinch, and she stepped back as if she had just been shot. She looked down at Joan and was shocked to see pure rage blazing in her eyes, which flickered like lit embers. Her teeth were bared, mouth pulled back in a snarl, and her fists were clenched into shaking fists.

  “Do you think you can just go on tricking me forever?!” Joan cried.

  “Oh no, Joan, no--” 

Katherine reached for her, but the girl clawed her hand away. She ducked under her arm and ran out of the classroom, leaving Katherine behind in shock.

  “My, my,” Anne said, sauntering over with a chuckle. “Little mousey’s got a temper!”

  “I--” Katherine’s words hitched for a moment. “I’ve never seen her angry before…”

Anne rolled her eyes and slung an arm around Katherine’s shoulder. She began guiding her out of the classroom.

  “Oh, who cares?” She said. “Just forget about it!”

But Katherine couldn’t forget.

Especially when they stepped out of the class and saw Joan, among many others, staring at the graffiti scrawled across the nearby lockers.

“JOAN SEYMOUR EATS SHIT”

Joan turned to Katherine with tears in her eyes, bared her teeth like a wounded fox, and then took off running down the hallway crying.

Guilt roared through Katherine and, this time, she knew it would be staying for good.

------

All the girls in the fourth period gym class got dressed in silence. 

The minute they had walked through the locker room door, conversations died away, giggling dissolved, and horseplay seized. There were no catcalls, no playful wrestling, no pinching or nudging or tickling. They just changed out into their gym clothes without speaking a word, already knowing what was coming.

Some teachers forgot.

Miss Aragon was not one of them.

It was no surprise when the locker room door slammed open with force after the bell rang and Miss Aragon came striding in. Her silver whistle bounced against her chest with every step she took, and a large, bulky black duffel bag was slung over one shoulder. She looked more like a wasp than usual, and not just because her outfit was a bright shade of lemon yellow with bands of black lacing over the fabric. She simply looked like she wanted to prick each and every girl in the locker room with something sharp and pointy until she had them squealing for mercy, just like they had Joan Seymour squealing in the stall just a few yards away. Resentment and disgust twisted her features as she scanned the class with brown eyes so dark they looked black.

None of her students dared to look at her.

  “Well, aren’t you all just the bunch to send off to graduation,” Miss Aragon said after five minutes of just watching the teenagers fumble with their gym uniforms. She had seen Bessie try to stick her head through an arm hole three times and Katherine apparently forgot how bra clasps worked, and she decided that it was more pathetic than anything they’ve ever said Joan had done. “When is it? A month?”

Nobody answered. Miss Aragon sneered. 

  “And then there’s the prom!” Miss Aragon began again. “Katherine, you’ll be going with Anna von Cleves. Maria, William Willoughby.” She turned to Anne, one eyebrow raised. “What about you, Anne? I imagine you can take your pick. Who’s the lucky guy or girl?”

  “Catherine Parr,” Anne said. “You don’t know her, she doesn’t go to this scho--”

  “Who?”

Anne ground her teeth when she was interrupted.

  “I’m sorry, Anne, I can’t hear you.” 

  “Catherine Parr.”

  “Well, isn’t she the lucky one?” Said Miss Aragon. “Are you going to get her a corsage? Or are you just going to tie a bloody tampon around her wrist?”

Anne’s face went red and she growled like a wild animal. Miss Aragon was anything but intimidated, easily towering over Anne and beating her in terms of fierceness and muscle. 

  “Hey, I have an idea!” Miss Aragon said. “Why don’t we skip the sport we were going to be doing today and make boutonnieres and corsages for your prom dates instead!”

The girls exchanged confused looks, finding this awfully suspicious.

  “Yeah? Sounds fun, right?” Miss Aragon said. “We can make them out of these!”

As fast as lightning, she ripped open the duffel bag and began throwing its contents all over her class. 

Tampons.

Their teacher was throwing tampons at them.

The sanitary items flew like a raging blizzard of white plastic and cotton. Bessie got hit in the eye by one and reeled back into Katherine, who nearly toppled over in shock. Another got caught in Maria’s curly hair and she clawed to get it out. Maggie let out a piercing alarmed screech. Miss Aragon smirked at their hysteria, then threw the bag down at her feet, fuming both in rage and pride.

  “I’m leaving.” Anne said, storming past the coach.

Something flashed in Miss Aragon’s eyes. 

Fury. Boiling hot fury.

Miss Aragon hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Joan Seymour at all over the weekend. Every time she closed her eyes she would see that poor child crying out to her for help. Her dreams were tainted by visions of Joan bleeding to death or killing herself because of all the harsh bullying she faced. She kept hearing her scream “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” over and over and over again. She couldn’t keep her wrath tamed any longer, and unleashed the full firestorm on her class.

Miss Aragon reached out, moving as quick as a cracking bullwhip, grabbed Anne by the arm, and slammed her into one of the rows of lockers. The sound of the student’s back smashing against the metal rattled loudly throughout the room, only beat by Anne’s cry of shock. Her eyes went wide in disbelief.

  “You can’t hit us!” She yelled.

  “I barely touched you.” Miss Aragon said, as if she were talking to a whining younger sibling she had just punched in the face. She pinned Anne against the locker in a position that looked to be very uncomfortable on Anne’s shoulder.

  “You’ll get canned for this.” Anne growled, tears of pain springing to her eyes. “See if you don’t, you bitch!”

  “I don’t really care, Boleyn.” Miss Aragon said. “If you--or any of you--think I’m wearing my teacher hat right now, you are sadly mistaken.”

She backed up so she could glare at all the other girls, but Anne didn’t dare move from her spot against the locker. Her eyes darted to Katherine in a sort of plight for help, Katherine looked away uneasily. Her gaze landed on the shower area, where this all began, and she jerked it away to look at something else. Anything else.

  “I hope you all know what you did on Friday was a really shitty thing.” Miss Aragon said. To her left, Maggie snickered and she glared at her so fiercely it was a wonder Maggie didn’t drop dead. “Do any of you ever stop to think that Joan Seymour has feelings?”

She looked around. Her rage only continued to build when she got no answer.

  “Do any of you ever stop to think?” She narrowed her brown-black eyes dangerously. “Katherine? Maria? Bessie? Maggie?”

Another pause. Miss Aragon seemed to be swelling up like a King Cobra.

  “Oh,” She said as if she had just read their minds. “You think she’s ugly, don’t you?”

Maggie snorted and made a “well obviously” face. Miss Aragon rounded on her, eyes flashing.

  “Well, you’re ugly.”

The stupid, shit-eating grin Maggie had been wearing was wiped clean from her face instantly.

  “I saw just how ugly all of you were on Friday.” Miss Aragon said.

Anne suddenly reared up, shaking her head. 

  “You can’t talk to us like that!” She snapped. “My dad’s a lawyer! He’ll sue your ass!”

  “SHUT UP!” Aragon roared. She got in Anne’s face, smoke practically billowing from her ears and nostrils. “Open your mouth one more time, and I’ll plug you up.” She jabbed a finger into Anne’s nose, cracking her head back against the locker. “Want to find out if I’m telling the truth? There’s plenty of tampons here to see.”

Anne said nothing, but that didn’t stop her from glaring mutely at her coach. Miss Aragon backed away from her, smirking briefly. The rest of her girls were exchanging frantic, nervous looks, wondering if they were about to be murdered or beaten to death or something horrible like that. Personally, Katherine thought they all deserved such a fate.

  “Now,” Miss Aragon said, lowering her voice to a slightly calmer tone, “my punishment for this little charade you pulled was a three day suspension and refusal of your prom tickets.”

An immediate uproar of unhappy gasps and murmurs eddied through the locker room. Katherine found herself sighing with them, but did agree that that would be a good way to get back at all of them.

  “That would hit you where it hurts, wouldn’t it? And you would deserve it, too.” Miss Aragon said. “Unfortunately, this administration is staffed entirely by men. I don’t think they have the slightest idea how utterly nasty what you did was.” A sneer tugged on the angered grooves in her face. “So you’ll get a week’s detention.”

Instant relief.

  “But it’s MY detention.” Miss Aragon went on. “Fifty minutes. In the field. Every day. And I’m going to run you ragged!” 

They all could already feel their legs burning from exertion and throat aching from dry heaving so intensely. 

  “I won’t come,” Anne said, shrugging.

  “That’s up to you, Anne.” Miss Aragon said. “That’s up to all of you. But I just want you to know that the punishment for skipping detention is a three day suspension and refusal of your prom tickets.”

There was that wave of unhappiness again, sweeping powerfully through the locker room, and it was music to Miss Aragon’s ears. She smirked wickedly.

  “Get the picture?”

Nobody said anything.

  “Good. Now change out. And think about what I said.”

With that, she turned and surged out of the locker room like a triumphant killer wasp. The tension of her presence quickly lifted, but only slightly. The girls were still mumbling and whispering, not daring to raise their voice in fear their coach may come back in and just take their prom tickets now.

Anne must not have gotten the memo.

  “She can’t get away with this!” She snarled.

  “Anne…” Katherine sighed.

Anne yanked her gym shoes out of her locker and hurled them across the room, as if she were hoping for Miss Aragon to materialize inside and get hit.

  “This isn’t over!” She screeched. “It’s not even in the same area code as over!!”

And she was right.

------

Meanwhile, skipping gym class like she was told, Joan was in the library.

For most of her life, books had been her only friends.

Books accepted you the way you were and shared all their secrets with you.

Books never told you that you were creepy or called you a monster or a freak or a pig or any other mean names. Books never said, “Joan Seymour eats shit.”

Joan had hid out in the bathroom after she saw the writing on the walls, rocking back and forth in one of the back stalls and crying to herself until her throat ached and she felt like she couldn’t breathe anymore.

She remembered the bathroom door opening and somebody walking in. She had tried to keep quiet as the girl was reapplying her makeup in the mirror, but her lungs began to burn and she let out a choked sob that seemed to echo throughout the room.

Silence.

  “Hello?” Called a voice Joan didn’t know or recognize. “Are you okay?”

  “I-I’m f-f-fine.” Joan choked out.

  “You don’t sound fine.” The girl observed. “Is this your stuff on the ground?”

Right. She had just thrown her belongings on the floor in her panic to get away from prying eyes to cry alone.

  “U-umm--” Joan sniffled.

Outside the stall, she heard the shuffling of feet and the rustling of papers. Her binders and folders were slid underneath the door a moment later.

  “There.” Said the stranger. “Just so nobody will take it if anyone else comes in.” She paused for a moment. “Are you alright?”

Joan tried to answer, to lie, even if God would strike her down for it, but all that came out of her mouth was a sob. She curled up tighter in the stall, burying her face in her knees. Fresh tears ran down her cheeks like streams of molten lava.

The girl outside made a sympathetic noise. “You poor thing.” She said. “Crying in the bathroom at school. I know that feeling.”

Joan’s crying halted for a moment. She sniffled and looked up slightly.

  “Y-you do?” She stammered.

The girl laughed. “Oh yeah.” She sat down on the other side of the stall, her back pressed against the door. “I got dumped in Geometry in Year 11.”

  “Oh no…”

  “Oh yes,” The girl laughed again. “I wanted to hide in the bathroom forever, but I eventually went back to class. Trust me, crying in here is completely normal. I’ve seen tons of girls do it.”

  “Did you talk to them, too?” Joan asked quietly.

The girl thought for a moment. “No, I don’t think so.”

  “...Then why are you talking to me?”

  “I had this feeling.” The girl said. “That you just--needed someone. More than those girls did. You know?”

She didn’t, but she still said, “Uh huh.”

The girl outside shifted slightly. Joan wished she could see her face.

  “So...what was it?”

  “Huh?”

  “What brought you in here to cry?” The girl specified. “If I may ask… You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, though.”

She was giving Joan an option, Joan realized dizzily. She wasn’t forcing her to answer.

Sniffling, Joan said, “I-it’s, umm--kinda silly…”

  “Nonsense,” Said the girl. “Was it a breakup?”

  “Umm-- N-no.” Joan said shyly. “I don’t date…”

  “Good for you.” The girl chuckled. “We love a strong, independent woman.”

Joan felt a flurry of butterflies flap wildly in her stomach and she bit her lip to keep from grinning like a giddy idiot. She was always flattered way too easily.

  “School problems?” The girl guessed again.

  “Kinda, yeah…”

  “I feel you, girlfriend,” The girl said. “They expect so much from us, you know? It’s like, do this research project in a week, but I’m only giving you one day to work on it in class so you’ll have to try not to procrastinate when you do the rest on your own and do this math assignment I barely taught you at all, oh and also, find the cure for cancer!”

Joan couldn’t help but giggle. She thought the girl outside the stall may be smiling.

  “It sucks, but you’ll get through it,” The girl said. “It’ll all be over soon.”

Joan nodded slowly. “Thank you.”

The girl got up. “No problem.” She said. “I gotta run. My teacher is probably going to tear me a new one for taking so long.” She laughed. “I hope you feel better soon!”

  “Thank you,” Joan whispered again. “Bye…”

And then, her savior was gone. Joan hadn’t even known her name. She wondered if the girl would have treated her any differently if she knew who she was…

Joan had managed to make it to third period after finally coming out of the bathroom, and then got to retreat to the one place in the school where she felt at peace.

The library.

Nobody was ever mean to her in the library. They were always too busy to pick on her, and that was one of the reasons why she liked it so much. People didn’t care about her in there, instead hunched over tables with research spread out over the surface, clicking furiously on computers, scribbling in notepads in the windowsill nooks, and reading, reading, reading.

A kind of peace settled over her as she stepped inside, breathing in the crisp smell of books. She felt like she belonged here, with all the oddities of literature, even if she didn’t belong anywhere else. In here there were answers and information and thousands of stories waiting for her to read...right behind Mama’s back. 

Mama didn’t like her reading a lot of things, especially young adult novels. But what Mama didn’t know was that she was already ankle-deep in a franchise about wild cats who were in clans and several other standalone books. When she was at school, the Bible was not Her Holy Book.

Shelves radiated out from every direction like a burst of sun, and more aisles with more books filled the overhead balcony ring. Yes, her school technically had a two-story library. A DOUBLE-DECKER library! You had to take a narrow wooden staircase to get up to the top ledge, which wrapped around the upper perimeter of the room and had a few private rooms to study or read in. The guard rail was laced in white fairy lights, causing the ceiling to glow beautifully.

Another thing Joan loved was the statue at the front, poised below the two entrance ramps and short staircase. It was of a long, serpent-like dragon made of white marble, coiled up on a mound of books with its snout dug in a thick, bulky novel. Its name was Haze, and it looked as though it might glance up at any moment, see Joan, and say, “Oh my gosh, have you read this one? It’s amazing!”

Joan gently brushed one of the claws as she passed by. There weren’t many kids in the library, rather in class, but there were a few Year 13’s in there for a free period. None of them even glanced up at Joan.

  “Mrs. Johansen?” Joan called meekly as she walked up to the librarian’s desk.

Mrs. Johansen was the blatant stereotype of a librarian- big, wide-rimmed glasses, older, warm amber eyes, curly brown hair. She looked up from the book she was reading to smile at Joan.

  “Yes, dear?” She said.

  “C-can you show me how to do a search?” Joan asked. She felt painfully awkward asking that, especially to an older woman, who apparently supposed to know nothing about technology, but Mrs. Johansen smiled kindly and nodded.

  “Of course,” She said. “Come on.”

It took a good five minutes, but Joan was eventually adept enough in computers to search things up. The first thing she did was look up ‘miracles’ and began to scroll through the search results, hoping to find some answers to the strange sensation she had been feeling in her veins ever since Friday.

mir·a·cle

/ˈmirək(ə)l/

noun

a surprising and welcome event that is not explicable by natural or scientific laws and is therefore considered to be the work of a divine agency.

Joan blinked, tilting her head at the definition as if she thought the words may start explaining their meaning to her even further if she stared hard enough.

Surprising? And welcome? She looked down at one of her hands, flexing her fingers. Mama didn’t seem to think her...issue...was either of those things. She clicked down to keep searching.

Miracles of the Renaissance

Jesus - Man of Miracles

Apparitions and Eucharistic Miracles 

Miracles on the internet!

Pray for a miracle

Herbal Miracles

Miracles and Modern Scientific Thoughts

Miracles: HIDDEN POWERS OF THE MIND

Joan paused. That last one seemed interesting. She clicked on it and was opened up to a page using big, fancy words she couldn’t really wrap her head around. But there was one in particular that caught her attention-- /telekinesis/. She had no idea what it meant, but something inside of her seemed to latch onto it and tug her interest towards the word until she searched it up in the search bar.

Psychokinesis (from Greek ψυχή "soul" and κίνησις "movement"), or telekinesis (from τηλε- "far off" and κίνηση "movement"), is an alleged psychic ability allowing a person to influence a physical system without physical interaction.

Joan’s eyes go wide with interest. Isn’t that what she did to that annoying neighborhood boy? And to Anne Boleyn? She moved them with her mind? 

She looked down at her hands again, but didn’t see anything special about them. They just looked like normal hands, just more bony and scarred than usual. Suddenly self conscious, she rubbed the old burn over her knuckles while clicking on a video about telekinesis.

And it was like watching a dream come true. Joan’s eyes widened even further as she watched as a man simply held out his hand and began to move the pages of a book without even touching them. Just like she did with Anne and the biker boy! He must have the same powers as her! Oh how she wished she could reach into the screen and pull this man out and ask him all the questions now running through her mind. Like, how are you doing that? And when did you know you could do it? And are there others like us? And will you teach me how to do that, too?

She was so enthralled with the video that she didn’t even realize someone was creeping up behind her…

  “Sorry! Sorry.” The brown haired boy with a camera around his neck said when she flinched around to look at him. “I just-- You can make it full screen, you know? Watch.” 

He reached over Joan and clicked the ‘f’ key and the video filled the entire computer screen. Joan’s eyes glimmered in awe.

  “Thank you,” She whispered.

  “No problem!” The boy said with a cheeky grin. He quickly hurried off to an empty table, leaving Joan alone.

He...wasn’t mean to her.

How strange...

------

Katherine quickly realized she had a lot less stamina than she thought she did. She has always been a perfect, well-behaved girl, always slipping out of punishment during the few times she wasn’t, so there wasn’t ever a need to have tough endurance for running because she never thought she would piss off a gym coach of all people.

But here she was, running Suicides in the field after school, fighting the urge to dry heave every few seconds.

The sun seemed to be unnaturally, blisteringly hot that evening, like it, too, was punishing her and her classmates for what they had done on Friday. Katherine doesn’t think she’s ever been so hot before. Her skin felt like it was baking, her hair was tassels of golden fire, and her back was a plateau of roaring flames. Gleaming yellow sunlight made her eyes prickly and sore, and if she squinted through the haze of exhaustion, she swore she thought she could see a big black buzzard circling overhead that seemed to be just waiting for one of them to drop dead.

  “Come on, ladies!” Miss Aragon shouted from the side of the field, looking absolutely delightful. “Lift those legs up! Faster! Faster!”

  “She--she can’t do this to us,” Anne wheezed as she careened up next to Katherine. She was absolutely dripping with sweat and red in the face, but Katherine couldn’t tell if that was from the sun, the exertion of the Suicides, or the fury from both.

  “Just--let it go, Anne. We’re almost done.” Katherine said through her teeth. It took a great effort to speak; she could feel bile curling in the back of her throat like bubbling acid.

  “And then every day this week?” Anne spat. “All because of Joan Seymour?”

  “Anne.” Katherine hissed. She picked up her pace to get away from her cousin, but when she turned to run back to the starting line, her foot slipped in the slick turf of the football field and she was sent sprawling on her stomach. The impact jarred her heavily and she dry heaved painfully until her lunch finally came rushing out of her mouth. A few girls winced, but mostly everyone kept running--not that she blamed them. Anne, however, darted over to her side, and she wasn’t sure if she was happy about that or not.

  “Are you okay?” Anne asked. Her concerned Big Cousin voice was slipping into her words and Katherine couldn’t help but crack a tiny smile at that. This was the side of Anne she liked, not the evil, cruel one who liked to pick on kids three years younger than her.

  “Y-yeah--” Katherine answered, spitting out the last of the bile in her mouth. “I’m fine.”

  “Howard,” Miss Aragon called, walking over, twirling her whistle on her finger. “Are you alright?”

  “Like you care…” Anne muttered. Miss Aragon gave her a dangerous glare, and Katherine set a hand on her knees to not only calm her cousin, but to also boost herself back up.

  “Yes ma’am,” Katherine said. “I’m okay.”

  “Good.” Miss Aragon rumbled. “I’m glad.” She shot Anne another look for a brief moment. “Get back to it. You’re almost done.”

Katherine nodded and then took off again, shortly followed by Anne, who was muttering something about this being “child abuse”.

Ten minutes of running in the searing heat passed and Miss Aragon’s whistle finally pierced the field. A collective sigh of relief swept through the class as girls skidded to a halt and instantly doubled over or completely collapsed to the floor in moaning, groaning heaps of soreness. A few scrambled for their water bottles and began drinking like it was the end of the world. Miss Aragon walked over to them, amusement painted brightly on her face.

  “Don’t drink too fast,” Their coach said to the girls guzzling down water, “or you may throw up.”

  “My legs are gonna fall off,” Bessie said in a woebegone voice. She was flopped over on her back, spilling her bleached white hair all across the green grass.

  “Now you know how it feels to be Joan Seymour, don’t you?” Miss Aragon said, looking down her nose at the girl.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her have to run before,” Maggie pointed out grumpily. “Even though she’s the worst at literally everything we do in class…”

Miss Aragon glowered down at Maggie for a moment, then began marching up and down the cluster of girls. They all watched her tensely, waiting for her to exact an even harsher punishment than Suicides.

  “Life’s all about making choices, ladies,” Miss Aragon said. “And, last Friday, you made the wrong one. So here’s how it’s going to go.” Her eyes flashed like gleaming pieces of onyx in the sun. “You’re all going to apologize to Joan.”

There was an uproar of annoyed confusion. Miss Aragon rolled her eyes.

  “You are all going to apologize to her in front of everyone.” Miss Aragon said. 

  “And if we don’t?” Anne challenged.

  “Do you really want to find out?” Miss Aragon said scathingly. She turned and strode away from the field to go retrieve Joan Seymour from wherever she was, swathed in gleaming gold. 

The minute she was out of sight, Anne let out a roar of fury.

  “That goddamn pig!” She yelled, working herself up to a proper fit. “This is all her fault!!”

  “Let it go, Anne.” Katherine said tiredly. She carefully eased herself to the ground, wincing when her throbbing muscles pulled and bent. Relief was short lived, because Anne came charging up to her a second later.

  “Why are you taking her side?!” Anne cried.

  “This isn’t about taking sides!” Katherine cried back, a new sharpness in her voice. “What did Joan Seymour ever do to you? Or to any of us?”

A few of the girls exchanged looks, seemingly only now thinking about that, while others, like Anne, looked unfazed. Katherine saw Anne’s fists clench tightly at her side, but she didn’t back down her own defense. She didn’t think Anne would strike her, but if she did, she liked to think she could take her in a fight.

  “My, my,” Anne said with sickly sweet venom in her voice. “Look who’s become the little Joan of Arc around here?” Her demeanor then switched, flaming into seething resentment, and Katherine could now see that her older cousin hated Joan Seymour with every inch of her being--simply for existing. There was no rhyme or reason, she just despised the girl. “Oh yeah, remind me. Who was in there pitching with the rest of us?”

Katherine sucked in a sharp breath, but blew it out in a sigh. “I was.” She admitted.

  “Yeah.” Anne sneered. Several of the other girls were packed behind her, backing her up, while a few, like Bessie and Maria, stood or sat in the middle, looking from the swarm of sweaty, angry teens to Katherine and then back to the swarm. 

  “But I’m sorry.” Katherine said.

Anne barked a laugh. “Sorry?” She laughed again, then turned to the girls behind her. “Hey, everyone, little Miss Perfect is sorry! She’s so sorry! Oh, Kitty’s sorry!”

  “Anne!” Maria hissed, then jerked her head to the side, where the yellow figure of Miss Aragon could be seen walking back over. The group quickly dispersed and Katherine shook her head.

Miss Aragon stopped in front of them. At her side, little Joan looked absolutely horrified. Her eyes are wide and paler than the moon in the sunlight, and she kept fidgeting like she wanted to run. She was trying very hard not to look at any of the girls, but didn’t know where else to stare, so her gaze kept shifting around everywhere in a panic.

  “Now, do you all have something to say to Joan?” Miss Aragon said sternly.

  “Joan--” Katherine stood up, gritting her teeth through the awful wave of pain that burned through her muscles. She slowly walked up to Joan as to not frighten her, but Joan still backed up into Aragon’s side anyway. “I’m sorry.”

Joan hunched her shoulders in and looked away. 

  “Maria.” Miss Aragon said.

Maria hesitated for just a moment, then gave in. “Sorry.”

  “Your turn, Maggie.”

Maggie pressed her tongue against the inside of her lip and spat an uncaring, “Sorry.”

  “Bessie.”

Bessie squinted up at Joan through the sunlight, then said, “Oh. Sorry.”

  “Alright, Anne,” Miss Aragon said. “Let’s hear it.”

  “When goddamn pigs fly…” Anne muttered stubbornly. A few giggles broke out around her. Miss Aragon narrowed her eyes dangerously.

  “What was that?” Their coach said. “We’re waiting, Anne. I can’t hear you.”

  “Please, it’s okay,” Joan squeaked, gripping onto Miss Aragon’s sleeve. She looked up at her with the saddest, most scared eyes Katherine had ever seen before. Miss Aragon gently touched her head in a form of reassurance, then instantly glared at Anne.

  “I said--” Anne growled lowly.

  “You don’t have to do this!”

Joan is in front of Anne, now, hands outstretched like she wanted to grab onto her. In the sun, Katherine could see the silvery scars on her hands more clearly, whorled in strange patterns in her skin. The light made her long white-gold hair look like it was charged with glittering electricity or made of jeweled silk. Anne looked down at her, and Joan backed up, clasping her hands together against her chest nervously.

  “Joan Seymour?” Anne said softly, stepping towards the girl. She stooped down to her height and spat, “Eats shit.”

Joan flinched backwards as if she were just sprayed with venom. Miss Aragon instantly got between her and Anne, acting as a protective shield of sorts.

  “Good news, ladies!” She announced. “Because of Anne’s comment, you will all be getting another week of detention with doubled time!”

The class simultaneously groaned, now turned against Anne. Anne clenched her fists, smoldering with rage.

  “I’m not running another goddamn inch,” She snarled, “because Joan Seymour got her period and was too stupid to know what it was.”

Joan flinched again, and Katherine had the unbearable urge to run over to her and cover her ears so she wouldn’t have to hear this. Her own blood began to boil and she glared at her cousin.

  “That’s it.” Miss Aragon said. “You’re suspended.”

That seemed to hit Anne like a punch to the gut. Her eyes bulged hugely out of their sockets.

  “What?”

  “You’re out of prom and you’re out of my class.” Miss Aragon stated firmly. “Now.”

  “No!” Anne shouted.

  “NO?” Miss Aragon towered over her, eyes ablaze. She looked ready to rip Anne’s throat out, and Katherine found that she wouldn’t quite mind seeing that happen.

  “You can’t decide that!” 

  “Watch me.” Miss Aragon said. She turned her gaze to the other students, as if she were challenging them to try and speak out. “The rest of you. Another lap. Come on.”

  “You can’t do this to us!” Anne squawked. “Someone could die of dehydration! Bessie, you have a heart condition, don’t you?”

Bessie apparently decided that she didn’t know who Anne was, because she was looking at everything but her.

  “If we all stick together, they can’t suspend all of us!” Anne said fervently. There was a spark of craziness in her eyes as she watched her group of friends crumble around her, suddenly not backed up anymore. “We didn’t do anything wrong!”

Joan’s quiet whimper begged to differ. Miss Aragon looked at Anne in disgust. 

  “Come on, guys!” Anne desperately attempted to rally them together. “Haley, Allie? Maria? Heather?” She spun around for somebody, anybody, and then her eyes landed on her cousin. “Katherine!” She strode over to her and clasped their hands together. “You’re with me on this, right?”

  “Katherine…” Miss Aragon warned.

Katherine’s heart ached in her chest. Anne was looking at her with so much desperation and need. There were flickers of love in her gaze, love for her little cousin, love that showed that the old Anne was still in there somewhere and ready to play harmless pranks with Katherine again. But when she looked right into her eyes, all she saw was Joan on the floor of the stall, crying and hyperventilating and surrounded by blood.

Her mind was made up.

  “Come on, guys,” Katherine pulled out of Anne’s grasp and jogged over to the starting line to get the last bout of Suicides over with. The others followed, and out of the corner of her eyes she saw Anne staring at her with a look of heartbreak and betrayal. 

Heartbreak and betrayal that morphed into something awful and sinister.

  “You fucking bitch,” Anne seethed lowly, wheeling around to glare at Joan. The poor girl was shaking like a leaf in the wind, practically cowering behind Miss Aragon. “I’ll get you for this! See if I don’t, you filthy pi-”

Anne’s words were silenced by a fierce slap across her face. She tottered backwards, and all the girls running stopped to gasp and ogle the scene with wide eyes. Miss Aragon was scowling and rubbing her hand.

  “You can’t--” Anne sputtered, and then yelped loudly as her collar was grabbed. Miss Aragon shook her roughly, screaming in her face.

  “ONE MORE WORD OUT OF YOU AND I’LL MAKE YOU WISH YOU NEVER SHOWED UP TO SCHOOL TODAY!!” Miss Aragon roared. She shook Anne again, then drew her in close. Her words came out barbed and wrapped in shards of glass. “Do you understand me?”

Whimpering, Anne nodded. Miss Aragon released her and Katherine watched as her cousin took off, crying. Miss Aragon looked at the rest of them and shook her head.

  “You’re all dismissed,” She said. Then, she turned, gently took Joan by the hand, and guided her back inside.

Everyone else dispersed pretty quickly, not caring enough to change clothes. Katherine, however, had to trudge to the locker room because she stupidly put all her stuff in there. When she entered, she could hear voices coming from Miss Aragon’s office.

  “Joan, sweetheart? I’m so sorry, if I had known it would have gone like that--”

  “Oh, Miss Aragon, you just have to let Anne go to the prom! You got to!”

Those were Miss Aragon and Joan. Now Katherine had to stay and eavesdrop on their conversation. She shut the door silently so as to not alert them and crept closer to hear better.

  “Joan--”

  “Prom is very important to her…”

  “And what’s right is important to me.” Miss Aragon said firmly.

  “But prom is everything to those girls!” Joan warbled. “It’s the one night they get to dress up and be beautiful! It’s like a dream!”

  “But what about you?”

Pause.

Hesitation.

  “No--” Joan said, and Katherine thought she may have been shaking her head. “Oh, no, I’m not going. I’m--I’m /different/.” 

Was that disgust in her voice? Why?

  “Not that different.” 

  “Yes, I am.” 

That was sadness and grief. 

Joan added a moment later, solemnly and slightly envious, “They all got someone…”

  “And so will you one day, things change.” Miss Aragon told her.

There’s a moment of silence. Katherine could bet a million dollars that Joan was looking at Miss Aragon in disbelief right now.

  “I tell you what. Let’s pretend--”

  “Miss Aragon…”

  “Just for a minute! Pretend that the right someone comes up to you and says: ‘Joan, will you be my date to the prom?’ What would you say?”

A beat of silence.

  “No.”

  “J--”

Miss Aragon sighed heavily. Katherine struggled not to laugh.

  “Joan, why not?”

  “I’m not--” Joan fumbled. “I’m not--pretty.”

Miss Aragon gave a tiny gasp.

  “Oh, sweetheart… Sure you are! Look--” Katherine can faintly hear her root around for something, most likely a pocket mirror. “See there? That’s a pretty girl.”

Katherine’s mind was spinning. She kept thinking “poor Joan” over and over and over again. The girl’s self esteem was so low. It was normal for people to make comments about their body, but there was a sort of deep hatred in Joan’s voice when she said that she wasn’t pretty that made Katherine think all of this ran a lot deeper than she thought.

Would there ever be a way to make things right?

[marshmallow-phd]

Catching Rain

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Minseok x Reader

Summary: You were more than satisfied with your life. You attended a nice college, had nice friends, a nice boyfriend. That’s what your life was: nice. You weren’t looking for anything more, so what were you to do when this seemingly harmless boy walked into your life and turned your nice little world into one much more dangerous?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I Epilogue

**

On closer inspection, the house in the middle of the field was quite pretty. Simple, white, well kept. A secondary building with metal walls sat adjacent to the house – a garage, perhaps. Waiting on the porch was the man from earlier. Baekhyun. Now you remembered his name. He was joined by a few others – Chanyeol, Sehun, and one you didn’t know – who stared at you in curious wonder. Their eyes were wide and investigative, as if you were the supernatural creature and not Minseok.

“Looks like the cat’s out of the bag,” Baekhyun said with a snicker.

“Or pup, in this case,” said the one you didn’t know. Black hair that fell over his forehead and an upturn sat in both corners of his lips, though he wasn’t smiling.

Minseok merely shook his head as he pushed past them into the house. The screen door shut with a loud slam. You flinched at the noise. Chanyeol sighed as he glanced at you. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Yes, please,” you nodded. He motioned for you to follow him inside.

Through a short front parlor and a cozy living room, he led you into the kitchen where you stood awkwardly. The only noise came from the water flowing from the refrigerator spicket. The ice clinked as it moved around the glass. Your eyes wandered across the large, open space. Sunlight poured in from the windows in the two outer walls. It gave the whole room a yellow hue despite the white and light gray coloring of the cabinets and backsplash. Whoever had last designed this room had done so in a way to make it feel bigger and open, welcoming even. You wondered if there must have been a woman living here to give the finer touches. Minseok hadn’t mentioned anyone beyond his male roommates. The thought of a woman living amongst them made you slightly jealous, but you shoved it aside when Chanyeol held out the glass for you.

“Thank you,” you murmured before taking a sip.

He nodded shyly. His foot tapped lightly against the hard wood floor with his hands shoved into his pockets. He looked everywhere except for at you. Feeling eyes on you anyway, you glanced over your shoulder just in time to see several crops of hair disappear from the hallway entrance.

You scoffed. “You guys act like you’ve never seen a female before.”

“Not one like you.”

Minseok stepped into the room wearing a t-shirt with frayed edges where the sleeves had been cut off and a pair of basketball shorts. As angry as you were with him, the distrust still very much apparent, you were fighting the urge to run to him. What was this stupid, conflicting feeling? Making eye contact with Minseok, Chanyeol ducked his head and hurriedly left the kitchen.

“So,” you crossed your arms after putting down the glass and leaned against the counter, “is this the part where you explain to me what the hell is going on?”

“I will, but not here.”

“No, you don’t get to do that!” you snapped. “You didn’t want to tell me in the forest, so we came back here and now you don’t want to tell me here?”

Minseok shrunk back. “I just meant down here. Can we go upstairs? Away from where the others can hear?”

That suggestion could be accepted. Actually, you felt a little bad for exploding, but could you really be blamed? Given the information dump you were steadily receiving today? “Oh. Okay. Lead the way.”

Minseok’s hand twitched at his side, but he kept it in check as he turned and headed back up the stairs. The top spilled out into a hallway lined with doors. This space wasn’t as bright as the kitchen. Different shades of dark brown covered the wooden floor and plaster walls. No windows gave view to the outside making you feel trapped. “This one’s mine,” Minseok said. He held on to a handle of one of the middle doors and waited for you to come closer before pushing it open. When you saw what lied beyond the door, you nearly smiled.

On the walls were posters of famous soccer players and indie movies you’d never heard of. The bed was made with military precision, not a creased comforter or half-strewn pillow in sight. Against the far wall under a singular window was a desk. The notebooks were stacked in the top right corner, the edges so straight a ruler wouldn’t be able to find fault. Pens and pencils occupied a small cup to keep the rest of the desk clear.

“Not what you expected?” Minseok asked as he closed the door.

“Yes and no.” You stole a glance at him over your shoulder. “It’s very… neat.”

Minseok smiled shyly. He shuffled over to the bed and sat down. If he expected you to take the spot next to him, he was wrong. Instead, you chose the chair. A precaution for yourself.

Neither of you knew where to start. Who was supposed to talk first? What part should even be considered the beginning? Unable to continue in this awkward silence, you jumped in feet first.

“You can really… turn into a wolf?” The words felt like glue in your throat. Creatures like that belonged in fairytales and fantasy films, not a college campus.

“Yeah,” Minseok said. “We all can. All nine of us.”

“All nine.” Oh, great. A whole pack of them. “Even the one’s I met?” Stupid question. He’d already answered that, technically. But Minseok simply nodded instead of calling out the redundancy. “So, were you all bitten or-” You felt ridiculous basing the current situation on myth and legend, but what else did you have to go on?

“We’re all born this way. You can’t be like us from a bite or a scratch. It has to be in your DNA.” He snuck a peek before beating you to the next question. “The moon doesn’t really influence us either. I mean, its easier to see by at night in the forest, but it doesn’t force us to change. We can do that whenever we want. Witches have more of a connection with the giant rock in the sky.”

“Witches! They’re real, too? What else is real? Vampires? Dragons? Goblins?” What kind of world had you stumbled into?

Minseok flinched. “Maybe we should stick to one subject at a time.”

“Right.” That was probably best for your sanity. “So, if you have to be born like,” you gestured to him, “… this, does that mean both of your parents were, too?”

“Just my dad,” Minseok said. “Females wolves are extremely rare.”

“Well, that’s sexist.”

“Hey, we didn’t make up the rules. It’s genetics.” He scratched the back of his neck, twitching his lips from side to side. “I guess I should say that silver doesn’t bother us either.”

Why did you feel relieved at that random fact? It didn’t matter, as that wasn’t the most pressing issue to you. “Earlier you mentioned that it wasn’t you killing the campers-”

“It wasn’t any of us!”

“I believe you.” The words tumbled off your lips. And you realized that it was true. You couldn’t twist the nervous, sweet guy in front of you into a mindless killer. The way he was explaining everything slowly, cautiously, giving you time to understand. He wasn’t hiding anything from you. Not anymore. “I’m just confused when you said it was an omega?”

“Its just a ranking system within a pack,” he explained. “Alpha, beta, MR, omega. Junmyeon’s the alpha of our pack, he’s in charge. Yixing and I are betas, second in command. We help enforce Junmyeon’s word and keep an eye on the younger wolves who like to cause mischief.” He chuckled, as if remembering times when said mischief occurred. “The rest are all MR – Mid-ranking. They all have their own duties should they be needed. Well, except for Jongin and Sehun. They’re the youngest wolves so they get special treatment most of the time. Its okay, though. They kind of make you want to take care of them, the way they are.”

You nodded filing all the information away for later recall. “And the omega?”

“A wolf without a pack. Nine times out of ten they were kicked out for defying the alpha, for putting their own interests ahead of the pack. Without that structure, a lot of them turn feral.”

“Nine times out of ten?”

“It’s extremely rare, but sometimes a wolf will choose to never join a pack in the first place. It’s nearly unheard of though. We’re too social of creatures. Nine-point-five out of ten would probably be a better number.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that came out. Of course he would bring up math in a time like this. Minseok laughed along with you. Eventually, though, it died out, along with the smile that had been growing on his lips. “There’s something else I need to tell you.”

Picking up on his mood, you tilted your head to the side. “I don’t think anything else could take me by surprise at this point.” Minseok stared at you pointedly. Your stomach began to sink. What other little secret could he possibly be harboring at this point? You didn’t think anything could be as shocking as his shapeshifting abilities.

“Have you ever heard the expression ‘wolves mate for life’?” he asked cryptically.

“Yeah?”

“Well-” he shifted, crinkling the perfect comforter in the process. “We don’t know why it happens. Junmyeon thinks its nature’s way of compensating our ‘otherness’ while Jongdae just thinks it’s another level of torture.” An uncomfortable laugh. “But, um, every wolf has their own mate. Just one, that they stick with for the rest of their lives.”

Unable to keep looking at him, you leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees. “So, are you saying that you all get to pick whoever you want as your mate and that’s it? You claim them because of what you are?”

“No!” Minseok jumped to his feet. Swallowing visibly, he cleared his throat, but remained standing. “No, we don’t get to pick. It happens out of nowhere. Our mates are chosen for us before either is born. And we can meet them under any circumstances. Some favorable, some… not so much.”

You looked up at him “What are you trying to say, Minseok?”

He walked up to you, each step hesitant, each step full of fear. Crouching down, he sighed as he looked into your eyes. “What I’m trying to say, (y/n), is that… you’re my mate.”

At first, you only blinked. The words had to be soaked in one at a time before you could piece them together and understand the sentence as a whole. “I- what? How do you even know?”

Reaching out, Minseok took ahold of your hand. You didn’t fight it. The electricity was practically singing between your skins. “Really, all it takes is one look. A few seconds of eye contact and the pull takes hold. But this feeling we both get when we touch, its confirmation. And then there’s this.”

He pulled your hand closer, pressing your palm against his chest. The heat transferring through the thin fabric was enough to make you sweat, but that wasn’t the point of this exercise. It was the rate of which his heart was beating. As he stared at you with awe, his heart sprinted as if it were in second place of a race and needed to pass just one more runner to win.

“Every time I see you, this happens,” Minseok whispered. “It doesn’t matter how good my day has been, its always better when I’m with you.”

“We haven’t even known each other that long.”

“It doesn’t take long, apparently.”

You frowned, confused. “Apparently?”

A small smile pulled up one corner of his mouth. “I’m the first one in the pack to find my mate. The first one to experience this.”

The first…. You wanted to laugh at the romantic angle your brain was seeing this.

A knock came from the door. Minseok stood up, reluctantly dropping your hand before answering the intrusion. “Yeah?”

Several roommates were standing in the hall, all peering around Minseok to get a better look at you.

“Kyungsoo said it was time for dinner,” one of them said. “And that he could hear your mate’s empty stomach from downstairs.”

“And it took all of you to come tell us?” Minseok questioned as he folded his arms. He shifted to block more of the doorway, shielding you from their stares.

“It was an important job,” another one said.

Minseok looked back at you before sighing. “Tell Kyungsoo that I’ll be down in a second.”

“But-”

The door was shut before the argument could be finished. The rush of footsteps faded in the background until it was only the two of you once again.

“Are you hungry?” Minseok asked. You nodded sheepishly. “You don’t have to go downstairs. You can stay here and I’ll bring it up to. Kyungsoo’s a good cook so whatever he made will be delicious.”

“Actually, I’ll go down with you,” you said, to the surprise of both of you. Everything Minseok had told you was still sinking in. There was too much to process and completely comprehend, but the pieces were fitting together. And you were curious about life here. If you really were meant to be his mate, maybe you should know where that road led. It was the right at the fork. You’d uncovered a sign that gave you a clue to where it was headed. You wanted to follow it.

Minseok waited patiently as you stood up and walked towards him. He let you out the door first. There was a moment where your fingers brushed as you passed. You could feel the muscles in his hand tighten. He wanted to take your hand again – and you almost let him. But you held back. There was still something stopping you. Or, rather, a who.

The noise hit you halfway down the stairs. Being told that nine people lived together and truly witnessing it were two very different concepts. There was no order that you could see. Most of the boys sat around the table, conducting multiple conversations at once that overlapped that you had to wonder how they could understand each other. A few sat in a small booth off to the side in a world of their own. It was the kind of breakfast nook you’d only seen before in home magazines. Two boys stood at the counters, their backs to the chaos behind them.

One of them – sporting a very well put together look and black rimmed glasses – turned and smiled at you and Minseok. “There you are. Glad to see you came down.” He held his hand out to you. “I’m Junmyeon.”

“The alpha,” you said as you shook his hand.

“I see Minseok told you most of it,” Junmeyon said.

“Pretty much everything,” Minseok corrected.

You felt your face contort as you tried to pinpoint where you’d seen this man before. “Wait. Aren’t you a professor?”

Junmyeon laughed. “Yeah, I am. In the literature department. Folklore, to be exactly. But I’d prefer if we kept this between us.” He sent you a wink to show he was teasing. Behind you, Misneok growled, making you jump. “I’m just playing, Minseok.”

“And I’m sure he’ll be playing when he rips your head off,” the other stove-top occupant stated. He held out a plate for you piled high with food. There was no way you would be able to eat all of that. “I’m Kyungsoo, by the way.”

“(y/n),” you greeted back. “It’s nice to meet you.” Taking the plate, you tried to hand it off to Minseok.

“No, that’s yours.”

Not wanting to be rude, you said between gritted teeth, “I can’t eat all of this.”

Minseok pinched his face as if debating on something. “Fine. We’ll share.”

“Are you sure about that?” Junmyeon asked. “There won’t be any left over for seconds. You know that.”

“It’ll be fine.”

Shaking his head, Kyungsoo held on to one side of the plate and added another scoop of rice and meat each. “Just in case.”

After thanking him, Minseok guided you over to the table with a hand hovering over your lower back. Even without the contact, you could feel the heat coming from his palm. Or maybe it was just your imagination filling in. Minseok pulled out a chair for you on the empty end before sitting next you. It was obvious he’d purposefully placed you away from the others.

“Possessive much?” Baekhyun snorted as he dug into a plate of his own.

“I’m sure it’s just instinct.” The comment came from one of the more slender boys – Boys? Wolves? You weren’t sure how to address them properly. Maybe later. Your brain needed a break. The one who had spoken had a very pointed face, but in a way that was still handsome. You weren’t sure if you’d seen him before or not.

“That’s Yixing,” Minseok said. “And the last one to meet, I guess, is Jongdae.”

Jongdae turned out to be the curled-lip one who still wasn’t smiling. In fact, he was the only one not in some level of a cheerful mood as he sat in the breakfast booth. He barely looked at you while everyone else was. Some were even blatantly staring at you as they shoveled in food to their mouths.

“You should eat.” Minseok picked up a fork and stabbed a slice of marinade-covered meat, holding it out for you to eat like a child.

“I can do that myself, thanks.” You took the fork and chewed slowly on the meat. It was good. More than good, really, so you took another bite and another. Soon, you were full, though there was more than half a plate left. You scooted the plate over to Minseok. “Okay, your turn.”

“You’re done? Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m stuffed.”

Minseok didn’t reach for the other fork he’d grabbed, as if giving you a chance to change your mind. When you made no such move, he dug in. You smiled at the way he ate, enjoying every bite with satisfaction. At the sight of every plate being empty, Baekhyun stood up. “I’m going to watch a movie,” he announced.

“Oh, that sounds like a good idea!” Jongin said.

Yixing asked, “Which one?”

Baekhyun shrugged. “I don’t know. Whatever’s new. (Y/n), want to join us?”

Minseok cut in. “I don’t know if that-”

“I’d love to!” You turned to Minseok and gave him a cheeky smile. It felt a bit defiant. Perhaps he wanted to explain more to you or spend time with you alone in general, but you wanted to know how this group operated together. You wanted insight to their normalcy. Getting to your feet, you picked up the plate, but Junmyeon reached over and took it from you.

“Don’t worry about this. We’ll clean up.”

“But-”

The alpha wouldn’t have it. “You’re the guest. Shoo.”

More than happy with that argument (dishes weren’t your thing by a long shot), you followed the cluster of excited men to the living room. They crashed on nearly every surface – the couch, the chairs, the floor, anywhere they could fit. Minseok approached Jongin and Sehun who had taken a corner of the long couch.

“Move,” he ordered.

“But we were here first!” Sehun whined. Jongin look over to you and then got up without a word, sitting down on the floor with his back against the coffee table.

“Sehun….”

“You’re really going to kick the youngest off the comfortable seat?”

You tried to break up the awkward exchange. Well, it was awkward for you since you were the reason for the discussion. “It’s fine, really. I can sit on the floor.”

“You’re not sitting on the floor,” Minseok told you. To Sehun, he said, “I’m the eldest and she’s a guest. Please move.”

For a second nothing happened. Then Sehun huffed. “Fine.” He got up and joined Jongin on the floor. He lied down on his stomach and pulled out his phone, over it already. You felt bad but saw no point in arguing. Minseok let you sit first and then, once again, sat between you and Chanyeol, who happily occupied the other side of the couch.

Baekhyun flipped through a streaming service until he landed on a superhero movie. Everyone cheered at the choice, then quieted down as he pressed play. Someone turned out the lights so only the glow of the television remained.

Sitting shoulder to shoulder and leg to leg, you were hyper aware of Minseok. Arms crossed over your stomach and fists clenched, you told yourself repeatedly not to reach for his hand or lean on his shoulder no matter how heavy your eyelids were getting. Erik may have hit pause on your relationship, but there wasn’t much of a discussion of lines. You didn’t know the rules of that scenario and what was and wasn’t allowed. But as your tiredness grew, your willpower weakened. After a few bobs, your head landed softly on Minseok’s shoulder. It was too comfortable to move. It felt too nice, too right. Like his shoulder was the one you were always supposed to lean on. And that was when Minseok made a move of his own.

Holding your head up, he adjusted his arm so it was now draped over your shoulders. Your head rested against his chest when he laid you back down. Something vibrated against your cheek. Was that… purring? No, it had to be the booming from the movie. Right?

It didn’t take long for you drift into sleep. The movie was one you’d seen before so you couldn’t use that as an excuse to stay awake. You weren’t sure how long it had been. A slight bopping motion roused you. In the shallowness of your conscious you made out that you were being carried. Carried up stairs… and into a bedroom. While still holding you, that person managed to pull back the covers and tuck you into bed. As the arm slipped away you grabbed hold of the wrist. Through the slightest slits in your eyes you could make out Minseok’s silhouette.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he whispered. “Go back to sleep. I’ll take the couch downstairs.”

“No. Stay.”

He froze at your request. “Are you sure?”

“Please.”

Even in the darkness, you could see him smiling. “Okay.” Shutting the door, he peeled back the covers once more and slid in beside you. Happy wasn’t even close to how you felt when he pulled you in close to his chest. You drifted back to sleep with a smile on your face.