#the rude asks were significantly longer so please know this isn’t about the short and simple and sweet ones!!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fandom-imagines · 4 years

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Sweet little darling~

Fandom: House of Wax (2005)

Pairing: Bo Sinclair X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Canon typical violence, domestic abuse (abusive relationship; not Bo) Kind of out-of-character Bo, depends on how you headcanon him for liking someone! Also not proofread yet.

Words: 2.55k

Summary: Kindness can get you killed, but it can also get you out of a sticky situation.

Part Two!

To anybody that saw their relationship, it was evident that the feeling wasn’t mutual. Perhaps it once had been, but it no longer was, and for good reason.

“You fucking bitch!” The scream echoed throughout the building, one body looming over a small, cowering young woman.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, doing her best to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall. “Please don’t hurt m-“ her pleas were cut short as a tight hand grasped her arm and tugged her onto her feet, a harsh slap hitting her cheek shortly afterwards.

“Please don’t hurt me,” he cruelly laughed, mimicking her frightened and desperate tone. “How pathetic.”

“I’m sorry,”

With one final laugh, her boyfriend tossed her to the ground.

Laughter filled the truck the group of friends were currently seated in, music blaring through the speakers of a radio one of them had brought but their drunk selves were unable to remember who.

Four of the friends engaged in conversation about anything their clouded minds could think of, whilst the final friend lay against the side of the car, desperately avoiding the demanding gaze her boyfriend was giving her and had been giving her the entire night.

It was clear what he wanted.

Eyes fixated on the green of the grass beneath her, Y/N noticed an approaching truck. Choosing not to say anything, she silently waited for somebody else to notice the vehicle.

“Guys,” Lucy, a close friend of Y/N’s boyfriends, called. “Who is that?”

By now the headlights of the truck were focused on the gang who were circled around the campfire, narrowly avoiding Y/N’s figure.

“James, do something?” Y/N winced as she watched another of the girls grasp onto her boyfriends muscular arm, her blonde hair rubbing against his bare chest.

“Can we help you?” He yelled over the sound of the roaring engine, their music having been paused the second they had notice the driver. “Look dude, this isn’t funny. Just fuck off!”

James’s final sentence was one that made his girlfriend cringe, body remembering the way he had hurt her the night before using that exact same tone; it almost made her cry.

Deciding to stop him before this escalated any further, Y/N made her way towards James before placing a hand on his chest to signal him to back down. This seemed to only anger him further, something that was clear by the way his hands balled into fists. Nobody noticed, except one other person.

“Leave it,” she whispered into his ear, hand dropping from his body to hopefully ease his anger.

James’s hand reach out to her, grabbing his own with a bruising force and tugging her into him as he leaned down to her ear, ignoring the whistles from his friends who assumed he was saying something sexual.

“Just you wait till I get you alone,” James snarled in her ear, unaware of the way an unknown man glared at him before driving away.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” James spat, smashing his hand against the cars hood. “It’s busted, the fan belt is fucked.”

His anger seemed to put everybody on edge as they all fell into an uncomfortable silence, something that was uncommon for them.

“You needed a new one anyway,” Y/N mumbled, just loud enough for him to hear.

“Don’t you fucking start,” while his words were directed towards his girlfriend, the others assumed it was aimed at the car in sarcasm; ignorance is bliss after all.

“I can help y’all.” A seemingly kind voice yelled from behind them, having heard the entire conversation. “Sorry, couldn’t help but overhear ya. There’s a town not to far from here. A guy, Bo, runs a gas stop, I’m sure he’d have some.”

Before James could rudely decline this man, Y/N decided to respond. “Do you know how to get there?”

“I’ll drive ya! Truck can only fit two of you though,”

“That’d be great!” She gave the unnamed man a gentle smile, one which he gladly returned. “When are you ready?”

“Now is good,”

She simply nodded, rushing towards the car without giving James a chance to say anything, only leaving him time to follow her, but not before a “fuck sake,” left his lips.

“Thank you so much, Lester!” She grinned once again as she hopped from his truck.

“It was no bother, pleasure to meet you Y/N,” he smiled back at her, ruffling her hair slightly before realising the angered look on James’s face. “And you of course,” he nodded awkwardly whilst his hand dropped back to his side. “You two take care now,” and with those words, he drove away.

“Fucking slutting yourself out to weird men, typical,” James spat as he tugged Y/N’s hand so that she was following him into the town, ignoring how she almost tripped in the process.

“I’m sorry, I was just being nice. He was helping us!” She all but yelled, silently praying for him to loosen his grip so that she doesn’t have to use all of her concealer hiding, yet another, mark from him.

“Sure he was. He didn’t just want to get into your pants or anything, huh?”

Ignoring his hurtful words, Y/N began to look around the town.

It was quiet, too quiet. But when she began to think, it was Sunday and there was a Church up ahead at the end of the road which would make more sense, especially considering how early in the morning it was.

“There’s the garage,” James said, dropping her hand to instead point at the small garage not far from them. “Let’s go,”

Y/N followed him, quickly striding to keep up with his large legs.

“There’s nobody here,” she sighed, watching as James just barged his way into the unoccupied garage. “You can’t just go in there! That’s rude.”

“Do I give a fuck? Wait out there for all I care,”

So she chose to do just that.

“Oh, hi!” A tall man in a suit gave Y/N a bright grin, accidentally startling her slightly. “You need something?”

“O-oh, hi! Uhm, my boyfriend is in there, I’m sorry I told him not too, he needs a fan belt? I have no idea what one of them is but I-“

The man chuckled, smiling once again as he put his arm around her waist to guide her inside. “Don’t worry, darling. I got ya,” his words were somewhat calming, as though he was offering to protect her from James, despite not knowing what was going on, or perhaps he did.

“You finally grew a p-“James’s words fell short as he turned to see a man, who was significantly taller than him, stood beside his girlfriend. “Hello?”

“Hi, names Bo,” Bo’s tone was a lot blunter than the charming one he had been using previously. “You need something?” He repeated his previous words, instead this time to James and less kind. “You are in my garage after all.”

Despite knowing that Bo could easily subdue him, James chose to get angry anyway. “You got a problem with me? Don’t leave it unlocked if you don’t want people coming in,”

“James leave it,” Y/N gently pushed herself between Bo and James as James began to try get into his face. “Just ask him for what you need and let’s go.”

“Fine, we need a fan belt. Fifteen inch.”

“I might be able to do that, but you’ve already had a look so let me know what I’ve got,” Bo smirked at the angered expression on the mans face at his words.

So maybe he did have a problem with James, a problem neither of the couple knew of.

“Not a fifteen,”

“Then they’re back at the house,”

“The house? Why would they be there?”

“Deliveries are delivered there, easier for everyone really.”

Y/N watched as the two men interacted, Bo incredibly calm whilst James was boiling with anger. Part of her was scared of how he would react, his threat about ‘waiting till they’re alone’ floating around in her mind, yet some strange part of her felt safe knowing that Bo was there. Perhaps it was the fact that he could fight him with ease, or maybe that James would, most likely, never harm her in front of another person.

“Let’s just go,” She pleaded, desperation swimming in her Y/E/C orbs.

“No, I’ll stay, you go.” James seemed pleased with this idea, smirking at the way his girlfriends body tensed; he enjoyed the fear he caused her.

“That’s fine with me,” Bo chimed in, offering Y/N a smile. “That fine with you?”

“Yeah, yeah that’s fine.”

“Let me just lock up,” Bo said, leading the visitors out into the street, much to James’s dismay, before locking up. “Let’s go then.” He gave James one last sarcastic smile before leading Y/N away from him.

“Do you live with anyone here?”

Y/N and Bo had been talking for a while now, having chosen to take a slow walk instead. He was nice, to her anyway. She felt as though he understood her, despite not knowing a thing about her.

“Nah, I live with my brother,” Came his response, winking at the girl as he ran a hand through his dark hair, enjoying the way she blushed under his gaze.

She knew it was wrong, finding him both attractive and sweet. But he was both of those, and James was neither, not to her at least. Maybe it was because he was the first person to be this kind to her in a long time, or maybe it was the feeling of safety she felt around him, but she was enjoying his company more than anyone else’s.

“Oh, that must be fun!”

Bo chuckled at her enthusiasm, “I suppose so,”

The pair walked up to Bo’s home, guilt filling the girl’s chest each time she let Bo’s hand brush against her own. She simply enjoyed the sparks flying throughout her body, forgetting about the pain she would receive later as a punishment.

“We’re here,” Bo’s words pulled Y/N from her thoughts, almost tripping over a rock as she came back to reality. “Easy there,” Bo shook his head whilst smiling as he caught her, sneakily pulling her body into his own without her realising it was not an accident.

“Thank you,” she blushed, unknowingly allowing herself to melt into his touch, feeling the need to savour every kind and gentle touch she was getting from a stranger.

“No problem, darling,” he smirked, once again enjoying the way she blushed at the nickname he had given her.

Hand still around her waist, Bo guided her into his home.

“Take a seat, I need to get out of this horrible suit.” His words caused a giggle to leave Y/N’s lips, her head nodding as she took a seat on the faded leather couch, watching Bo leave the room to go change.

“Sorry to keep ya waiting, Darl.” Bo’s voice startled Y/N, her body jolting in a way that made Bo feel slightly guilty, something that he rarely felt. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, it’s okay. It was my fault,” she offered him a weak smile, twiddling with the hem of her short-sleeved t-shirt when he seated himself beside her.

“That looks painful,” his hands cautiously reached out to gently take her hand, fingers lightly running across a hand-shaped bruise that had began to form. “You shouldn’t let him treat you like that,” Bo’s spare hand reached up to her face, hand cupping one cheek which made her flinch, Bo frowning at the action.

“S-sorry,”

Bo had no idea why she was apolgoising to him. It had been him that touched her, but it all made sense in his head.

“Does he hit you?”

Her lack of response was enough for him to understand to full situation.

“I’m sorry,”

“Don’t be, darling.” He sighed, hand moving from her cheek to her neck to pull her head towards his lips, planting a soft kiss on it, something that made her almost cry along with his sweet words.

“Thank you,” her own arms wrapped around his torso, grateful to be given affection without it feeling forced.

“You took your time,” James spat as Y/N walked towards him, Bo having quickly headed to the gas station for something that she couldn’t remember the name of. “Were you shagging him or something?”

“N-no,” the nervousness in her voice was something that caused Y/N to cringe, knowing that he wouldn’t believe her.

“Oh, you were.” James’s hands balled into fists as he stalked towards her, ready to attack.

“No, I had to get changed,” Bo’s deep voice startled both of them, James’s fists unclenching immediately.

“Sorry, man. Can’t be too careful with girls like these, can you?” He laughed, trying to play off his previous words as a joke.

“Can’t be too careful with men like yourself either, can you?” Bo’s words seemed innocent, despite having a deeper meaning.

“What?” James snapped. “You told him about us?” He yelled as he turned to face Y/N whose breathing was becoming laboured in fear. “You little bitch!”

As James began to march towards his girlfriend, a tight hand grabbed his fist, spinning him to face the holder only to not be able to see because of a hard punch hitting him in the jaw. The only thing he could hear was a gasp from Y/N and the ringing in his ears as he dropped to the ground.

“Not so tough now, are you?” Bo sniggered. “You can hit a woman but the second a man touches you, you’re out cold. Pathetic,”

Y/N stood frozen to the spot, unsure of how to react.

She hadn’t expected Bo to attack him. In fact, she hadn’t expected him to do anything at all to him or about her situation. Those who knew didn’t care, so why would a stranger?

“You fucking dick!” James screamed, climbing back onto his feet to throw a punch at Bo, one that he barely reacted to.

“Leave him alone!” Y/N yelled, darting between James and Bo, shoving James away from him to the best of her ability.

“You fucking whore. I should’ve known this is what would’ve happened. Actually, I guess I already did.” His words were fast, but his fist moved towards her faster.

Bo was quicker however, grabbing the man’s fist and twisting it behind his back before kicking his legs from beneath him, effectively knocking him to the ground again.

“Vincent!” Bo yelled. “Got one for ya,” both Y/N and James were confused at his words, fear filling them both as a masked man came running out into the street, knife in hand.

Bo took Y/N’s hand, pushing her behind his hand so that she couldn’t see the horror that Vincent was committing to her boyfriend in full glory.

“Y-you killed him…” Her words were quiet, watching from one eye as the man, who she assumed to be Vincent, tugged away the lifeless body. “Are you going to kill me too?”

“You’re safe here, Y/N.” Bo’s words were quiet, praying nobody else heard his true self speaking. “I’ll take care of you. Nobody will ever hurt you again, my sweet little darling.”

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knifewieldingenby · 4 years

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Lambden headbutting/nuzzling, anyone? warning: slight sexual innuendos

Lambert was...confused. It wasn’t an emotion he felt often, and certainly not one he enjoyed feeling, so he tried his best to push it down and act natural. Of course, Aiden was a witcher; if anyone could see right through Lambert’s emotional walls it was him. He was nice though. He gave Lambert a pass, continuing on with the conversation as if Lambert hadn’t just frozen in place, hadn’t turned away to hide his blush.

It was all Aiden’s fault really. They were sitting in front of a fire, nestled close together with their knees touching ever so slightly, chowing down on cooked rabbit. Aiden had brought a small pouch of mixed spices on the road, something he’d acquired in Toussaint after the winter, and for once their dinner wasn’t bland. Lambert had told something close to a joke, maybe too gruff and sarcastic, but Aiden still laughed hard and then...and then. He leaned over into Lambert’s personal space and nudged him with his head. Maybe nudged was the wrong word. He nuzzled, lingered there for a minute with his forehead against Lambert’s bicep. And then he was gone, offering up a witty retort. And Lambert was left to try to remember how to swallow, lest he choke on rabbit.

It became a thing of theirs. On the road, when they were walking peacefully and Aiden was standing close; as they sat by the fire at night; in their room at the inn, when they laid down for bed. Those were the nights that had Lambert crawling out of his skin, when Aiden would turn to face his back or chest (whatever was right in front of him) and nuzzle his bare skin. It sent prickles down Lambert’s spine. He laid awake longer than normal those nights, listening to the wind against the building mingled with the soft, calming sound of Aiden’s slow heart beat. Trying to figure out what it all meant, or if it meant anything at all. Maybe it wasn’t that deep.

“Come with me,” Lambert whispered one night when Aiden curled up against his chest, half asleep. It probably wasn’t the best time to ask but Lambert was significantly less brave when it came to matters of the heart. Aiden stirred, unusually bright green eyes fluttering open to look at him.

“What was that, pup?”

“Come with me to Kaer Morhen. Winter with me.”

A lazy but fond smile stretched across his plush lips. “You really mean it? You want to introduce a bastard Cat to your brothers?”

“Fuck ‘em, it’s not about them.” It was mostly true - he couldn’t deny that the idea of his brothers approving of Aiden made his heart swell, but if they didn’t like Aiden, that was their problem. “It’s about...us.”

“Us?” Aiden smirked, quirking his eyebrow.

“Our friendship!” He said quickly. “We always meet up in the spring, and it’d be easier if I didn’t have to search for your sneaky ass.”

“You search for me, do you?” He was definitely fucking with him now, and Lambert shoved him gently.

“Quit dodging the question, kitty cat. Are you coming or not?”

“You tell me,” Aiden purred. He cackled at the blush that crept over Lambert’s cheeks. “Yes, of course I’m coming. About time you asked.”

“Okay. Well, that’s - okay.” Lambert willed his heart to settle down. Aiden silently curled up against him again, conversation over, and Lambert tried not to think much about it. Aiden flirted with everyone. On one memorable occasion he got so drunk he even flirted with a chair. It was just who he was. It meant nothing.

Then Aiden wrapped an arm around his waist and softly nuzzled his cheek back and forth over Lambert’s heart, making soft sighing noises until he slowed and eventually fell asleep.

Lambert didn’t sleep at all that night.

——

As expected, his brothers hadn’t been overly excited about meeting Aiden. They hadn’t been rude, at least, and if they stared at the two with curiosity Lambert chose to ignore it. His growing feelings for Aiden aside, he didn’t want Geralt and Eskel’s assumptions to make his friend uncomfortable.

Vesemir was less pleasant, displaying only as much politeness as was necessary to not piss Lambert off, but even he had a certain look in his eyes when Aiden got too close, too physically affectionate with Lambert. It wasn’t judgemental exactly. It still made him itch. Did he need to wear a sign that read “we’re just friends you fuckers”? He was strongly considering it.

“How do you tolerate the cold?” Aiden said one night after dinner. They sat around the hearth, a warm fire blazing, and even that didn’t seem enough for the Cat. He was used to traveling in warmer areas. Lambert could relate - the keep was often far too cold for his liking.

“At least you’ll be under your furs soon,” Eskel offered. Having bonded over which monsters they’d fucked in the past, they seemed on better terms. Geralt silently passed Aiden a bottle of liquor to warm him up.

“It’s cold there, too. Big empty bed with nobody to keep me warm,” he grumbled, downing a shot and passing the bottle back with a nod of thanks.

“Why don’t you sleep with me?”

Lambert regretted the words almost as soon as they left his mouth. Geralt and Eskel both shot him looks, and even Vesemir, half asleep in a chair, raised his eyes curiously. Lambert could feel his cheeks burning.

Aiden ignored them all. “I’d love to, pup. You’re a furnace.” He stood and stretched, shirt riding up to reveal brown skin and a soft, dark trail of hair that disappeared below his waist line. Lambert pointedly looked away, aware that all eyes were on him. Lambert stood with him.

“Let me go grab my furs and I’ll meet you in your room.” Aiden leaned over and nuzzled him like he always did when they parted, whether for five days or five months. It was his thing. He flashed Lambert a gentle smile and left without another word.

“Well fuck,” Geralt snorted. “He’s gone, isn’t he?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Lambert snapped.

“Come on Lambert,” Eskel sighed deeply. “You’ve done a good job playing dumb until now, but you can’t hide it any longer. We all know what that head bumping thing means.”

Except they all didn’t. Lambert was thoroughly confused. It must have shown all over his face because Eskel sighed again and looked toward Vesemir.

“Can you please tell Lambert what the headbutting thing means for Cat Witchers?”

“Yes, please tell me,” Lambert threw his arms up, frustrated. “Clearly I’m missing something!”

Vesemir sighed, too. Why was everyone sighing at him? “To keep a long story short, headbutting and nuzzling are ways that Cat Witchers show their love. Sometimes it’s in a familial manner, but more often it’s...romantic.”

Lambert stood in the middle of the room, jaw dropped, brain short-circuiting.

“He...what? No. No, Aiden is like that with everyone. I mean, fuck, he’s flirted with everyone in the room apart from Vesemir! I’m not special.”

“Nuzzling isn’t flirting,” Vesemir said matter-of-factly. “It’s an expression of love. And he hasn’t done it to anyone but you.”

Fuck.

——

“You love me,” Lambert breathed into the still air. It was cold, and he instinctively pulled Aiden closer. It was hard to do; they were already pressed so close together that Lambert could feel the firm curves of Aiden’s body warming his.

“I do. What made you finally realize it.”

Lambert shrugged, Aiden’s head bobbing with him. “The nuzzling thing. Vesemir told me what it meant.”

Aiden lifted his head to get a good look at Lambert, eyebrows raised in surprise. “You mean you didn’t know? Fuck, and I thought I was being so obvious!”

“What can I say, I’m thick.”

Aiden let his eyes roam over Lambert’s body where the blanket was slightly raised. “I’ll say.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Lambert laughed, pulling Aiden down on top of him. To his great pleasure Aiden took that opportunity to nuzzle his face, cheeks rubbing together in an electrifying combination of stubble and warm skin. He stayed like hat, cheek pressed to Lambert’s and breath on his ear, for a long while.

“I love you too,” Lambert said softly. Aiden started purring for real this time, a gentle and soothing rumble, and Lambert let it lull him to sleep.

#lambden #lambden fanfic #lambden fanfiction #Lambert #Aiden #my writing

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bluejayblueskies · 4 years

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agony quiets to pain

Words: 2.1k Relationship: Jonathan Sims/Gerry Keay Tags: AU - Pre-Canon, AU - Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Tenderness, Burns Warnings: burns, aftermath of hospitalization, implied abuse/neglect, self-depreciation

Ao3 link in source!

Gerry aches. Which is a step up from total agony at least, but still, not pleasant. And then of course there’s the bandages, still covering nearly every inch of his body and hiding the mess that lies beneath.

(Permanent scarring, the doctor had said with a plastered-on expression of sympathy. We’re very sorry. There’s nothing we can do.)

It’s fine. He’ll be fine. He always is, isn’t he?

And to top it all off, he’s lost the book—the Leitner he’d been sent to fetch. He fully expects to step out of the hospital doors to see cool blue eyes staring back at him, hard with disappointment despite the benign expression on her face and accompanied by a casual, “Let’s go home now, Gerard,” that he would recognize for the threat it is.

Instead, he sees a man, thin and tired-looking, sat atop the short wall outside the hospital doors with a lit cigarette held between two fingers and a scarf wrapped tightly around his neck to chase away the late December chill. And Gerry realizes that the nurse never said exactly who he was being released to. The relief that overcomes him is dizzying, and he barely registers the nurse handing him his discharge papers before disappearing back into the hospital.

“Jon?” Gerry says, his voice cracking a bit around the words (though he tells himself it’s just from the lingering effects of the book, filling his lungs with smoke).

Jon looks up. When his eyes land on Gerry, he quickly snubs his cigarette out on the wall next to him, stands, and takes quick steps toward Gerry. He looks, for a moment, like he’s going to wrap Gerry in a hug before thinking better of it and simply fluttering his hands aimlessly in the air for a moment before dropping them back to his sides. Gerry’s disappointed and grateful in equal measure; given that his skin is still raw and sensitive, he doesn’t think a hug would feel pleasant. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t ache for one anyway.

“Are you okay?” Jon says, then shakes his head before the words have even finished leaving his mouth. “Right, no, of- of course you’re not. What I mean is.” Jon pauses, as if considering, before saying softly, “Are you all right?”

It’s the same question, technically. But Gerry knows it’s not. And so he decides to answer honestly.

“Not really.” Gerry rubs his left thumb over one of the tattoos on his right knuckles, the motion a habit born of nerves and anxieties. The skin there is smooth and unblemished. Funny, that. “All this, and I didn’t even get the book.”

“Oh,” Jon says quietly. There’s a sadness there that Gerry doesn’t want to look too closely at. Mostly because it’ll look too much like pity, and he doesn’t think he can handle that right now.

A sharp wind cuts through Gerry’s clothes, making him shiver and then wince as the sensation sends pain skittering across his skin. The unhappy expression on Jon’s face is erased in an instant, replaced by concern and determination. “Here, let’s- let’s go home, and we can figure everything else out after that. Okay?”

Figure it out. As if Mary Keay could be placated so easily. Still, Gerry nods, and he follows Jon to his car, twinges of agony pulsing up his legs with each step that he tries to hide. Given Jon’s grim expression as he helps Gerry into the car the best he can without touching Gerry’s skin too much, he doesn’t quite succeed.

The car used to be Jon’s grandmother’s, out of style by a decade or so with roll-up windows and a lingering cigarette smell that no amount of air fresheners seem to eliminate. Gerry leans his head back against the seat and breathes it in. It’s not something you’d bottle up and sell as perfume, but compared to the sterile antiseptic smell of A&E, it’s heavenly. Jon starts the car, looks over at Gerry once like he’s making sure he’s still there, and begins to drive. His hands shake ever so slightly on the steering wheel. Gerry pretends not to notice.

Gerry isn’t surprised when Jon takes them to his flat. Of course he isn’t, Jon’s the one who picked him up, so logically they’d go back to his place. Still, Gerry can’t help the rush of dizzying relief that sweeps through him when they arrive, like he’d still expected to be faced with rusty red brick and a weathered wooden sign that seemed to laugh at him with every creak of its hinges.

“Thank you,” Gerry says. He doesn’t bother to hide the way the tightness in his throat chokes off the words.

Jon’s quiet for a moment. Gerry can almost hear it—echoes of a conversation oft-repeated, useless and fantastical and irritating only because Gerry knows that Jon is right. I wish you wouldn’t go back, Jon would say. And Gerry would say, I know. And sometimes it would continue, if Jon were feeling particularly incensed at the moment. Sometimes it wouldn’t. Gerry almost hates that more, if only because of the expression that would come across Jon’s face, something profoundly sad and weary and, underneath it all, hurt.

It’s almost enough to convince him.

Almost.

“Yeah,” Jon says, his hands tightening on the wheel for a moment before going slack. He removes the key and fiddles with it absently. “You know I…” Jon trails off, worries his bottom lip between his teeth, then says abruptly, “Well. No use just sitting here, I suppose.”

It’s clipped, a bit brusque. Rude, if Gerry didn’t know better. But he does, and so his mouth settles into a small smile as he follows Jon into his flat, despite the burning, chafing sensation on his skin as his bandages shift as he walks.

God, he feels like shit.

As soon as they’re inside, Jon insists that Gerry sits on the couch, and Gerry goes without complaint, his aching body screaming in relief as he sinks down onto the cushions and finally takes weight off the soles of his feet, which did not come out of the experience unscathed. There’s clattering from the kitchen, a few muttered curses, and before too long Jon’s in front of him with a glass of water with a straw in it and a bowl of what looks like hastily reheated curry. He hesitates a moment before saying, “Can you… hold things?”

Gerry flexes his fingers experimentally. His hands got the best of it, given the myriad of tattoos across the joints of his fingers. Still, the entirety of his palm and the pads of his fingers are red and inflamed, and though they’re no longer bandaged, the needles of pain that shoot through him at the motion draw a small gasp from his lips despite his best efforts to keep it contained. Jon’s forehead sets into a firm line at that, like he’s considering something, before nodding once. “Right.”

He sets the dishes on the floor, disappears back into the kitchen for a moment, and reemerges carrying one of the wooden chairs from his kitchen table. He looks a bit winded when he sets it down in front of Gerry, which might be amusing in any other circumstance, but Gerry’s too busy wondering what the hell he’s doing.

Then, Jon retrieves the dishes, sits in the chair, and holds the glass of water in front of him stiffly. And Gerry realizes, all at once, what’s happening.

“Is this where I’m supposed to say ‘ah’?” Gerry says, because joking about it is preferable to protesting or staring at Jon in shock or—god forbid—getting flustered.

Jon seems to appreciate it because the tension in his arms dissipates ever so slightly, and he says primly, “If you’d prefer. Though I really don’t see how that will aid in the process.”

“Prick,” Gerry says, not without fondness. And it’s only a little awkward when he leans forward and, while Jon holds the glass, drinks. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was until that moment, and he should probably be a bit embarrassed by how quickly he empties the glass, but he can’t quite bring himself to care when he sees the little pleased expression on Jon’s face. The affection that accompanies it, however slight, is enough to squeeze at Gerry’s chest until he finds it hard to breathe, and he clears his throat slightly to relieve the pressure.

The curry comes next, and it’s significantly more awkward to have Jon spoon-feeding him chicken and red bell peppers with careful precision so as to avoid any spillage. But Jon talks during it, which helps. It’s mundane things, like the case Jon’s currently working on at the Institute and what he had for lunch that day and the grocery list he’s compiling for the weekend. He transitions after a bit into a discussion of a documentary he watched recently about the origins of humanity, and Gerry gets to sit back and listen to Jon grow increasingly more passionate about bonobos and homo erectus and the unique structure of Neanderthal bones.

It’s nice, to learn about things like this. To learn from Jon. He spent his childhood chasing after cursed books, his mother giving him half-hearted studies in between that she deemed sufficient enough to be considered homeschooling. He’s just lucky he knows basic maths, honestly. But he knows a lot about books. Even if they’re mostly just the spooky kind.

So Jon talks, and Gerry listens. And he tries so very hard not to label the warm feeling in his chest as love, but, well. It’s hard not to fall in love with Jonathan Sims. And he doesn’t particularly want to try to stop it.

Soon the bowl is empty, and Jon holds it awkwardly against his chest for a moment before setting it aside on the floor. He’d stopped in the middle of a discussion about Stone Age tools, and Gerry wants so badly to ask him to continue. But there’s a weariness in him now, the food and water having chased away the gnawing hunger in his stomach and the dryness of his throat and leaving behind only bone-deep exhaustion.

So he doesn’t say anything. Eventually, Jon breaks the silence between them, his words stuttering and jagged, like he hasn’t quite figured out how to smooth them into shape. “I. I don’t really know. Uh. What else can I- can I do? To help. To make things easier.” He pauses, his fingers tapping a nervous rhythm on his thigh, before looking at Gerry with a fragile expression and saying, “I’m sorry, Gerry. I- I should have been there. I shouldn’t have let you go alone.”

“No,” Gerry says firmly. The thought of Jon being like him—wrapped up like a mummy, all agony and raw skin and cracked lines across his body that promise to leave him blotchy and scarred forever—makes him nauseous. Better that it’s him. He can handle it. He always has before. “It’s not your fault. And I don’t want you to blame yourself, okay? I know how you get, so don’t. There’s nothing you could have done.”

Gerry can see the protest written all over Jon’s face, in the way he purses his lips and fixes his eyes firmly at a spot over Gerry’s shoulder. But all Jon says is, “That doesn’t make it better. So please—tell me what I can do.”

There’s a kind of desperation in Jon’s eyes at that, a need to categorize a problem and find the best course of action in order to resolve it. His hands are curled into fists on his lap; Gerry wants so badly to take them in his own, to uncurl Jon’s fingers and thread them with his and squeeze until all the tension’s bled out of Jon’s body. Instead, he says, voice heavy with exhaustion, “I think I’d just like to go to bed. It’s been a long few days.”

Jon lets out a small, humorless laugh at that. “I suppose it has.”

Gerry doesn’t protest when Jon offers him his bed, just offers quiet thanks before making his way relatively painlessly to the bedroom. He considers trying to remove his clothes, then thinks better of it and gingerly climbs onto the bed with them still on.

It’s uncomfortable in every way possible. Gerry falls asleep all the same, the soft sleep well Jon had given him before disappearing back into the living room lingering in his mind until he drifts off into a restless slumber, his dreams filled with burning flesh and a fear he doesn’t think he’ll ever quite shake.

#tma #the magnus archives #tma fic #tmagerryweek2021 #jongerry #jonathan sims #gerry keay #my fic #my writing #prompt 2: burn #now that i've done two of these my brain is like 'do the rest! do the rest!' that's the devil talking lol

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years

Text

handmaid - 09

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap, mentions of violence

A/N: hope you enjoy this chapter xxx

NEXT CHAPTER

- It’s about Mr. Williams.

Sebastian’s face creased up, the lines that were rather faint in his skin becoming more prominent as his cerulean eyes lowered to look at the Y/N who was starting to curl up like a silkworm. That was the least of names he wanted to hear, specially the least of names he wanted to hear coming from her lips. The name itself seemed to taint her lips and it didn’t take long for Y/N to realise the atmosphere had shifted into uncharted territory. Sebastian wouldn’t hurt her, right? He had never given her any excuses for her to believe he would hurt her, however the dislike for Mr. Williams was certainly present.

- What about Mr. Williams, Y/N? - he spoke in a low tenor, menacing enough to make her feel short.

- I was just speaking with Gwen ... - Y/N was lying through her teeth, hoping Sebastian wouldn’t ask a lot of questions if she added the heiress’ name to the narrative. He, however, didn’t seem to lower down his defence stance. - You’re not gonna dispose of him, are you?

- I don’t think I owe you any explanation about my business. Know your place, Y/N. - the words made her heart clench as the once rather warm and comfortable environment seemed to freeze, and Y/N was no longer comfortable. Why would she ask him about his business? Yet, on the other hand why shouldn’t she? She was one of his employees too.

Y/N’s glance migrated away from him to look at her own hands which were gripping the railings of the balcony. It hadn’t been hard for her notice that he didn’t really like people messing into his business, however, she wasn’t expecting to having been shot down this quickly. It wasn’t like Y/N was a big fan of Thompson Williams, she was just paying him a favour, after all everyone is worth a second shot and he looked scared enough and worried to deserve one. With a shaky breathe, she returned to look at him, observing that the tenseness had not left his face, however it looked like a facade, almost like a mask and she wondered what he hid behind it.

Without speaking another word, frightful for more hurtful words coming from him, she turned around, feet moving to point towards the door which she walked to, opening it and leaving Sebastian’s suite. So much for the favour mentioned by the sleazy man. Why would he hold any favour towards her when she was a bright reminder that he was fated towards a marriage he didn’t pick?

Almost like snapped of a daze, Sebastian blinked quite a few times, lingering on the place she had been on before he took off to the hall expecting her not to be fast enough to have already returned to her bedroom. Much to his dismay, the halls of the hotel were empty with only sounds of soft snoring coming from the other bedrooms.

- Fuck. - he sighed, kicking one of the wall heaters in frustration.

- Sir. - one of the bodyguards made himself known. - Is everything alright, sir?

- Yes, Elias. - Sebastian had made particularly important to have trusted bodyguards following Y/N and Gwen around, however, Elias was specially responsible by keeping an eye on Y/N. - Make sure Miss Y/N is alright.

The morning came quickly and like a wound, his words were rather sore on her mind and running wild as she sat down on the hotel’s restaurant to have a lavish restaurant with Gwen. Despite the beautiful refined pastries, cakes, and teas being constantly put in front of her, she was much too lost in her thoughts and regrets over even mentioning Williams’ name in front of Sebastian.

Another employee set a basket of bread in front of the two girls along with endless glasses of various brightly coloured juices which smelled like they were freshly squeezed fruit juice. The breakfast however went by in seconds, maybe due to Y/N’s relentlessness to overthink every single little thing she had done wrong or maybe due to the fact that regarding the nice climate, Gwen was interested in rushing through breakfast and head out to the pool. In all honesty, a nice day by the pool did sound nice, as long as she were able to read whatever she wanted with no one bothering her.

It wasn’t like Gwen was gonna go do sight seeing which meant Y/N had to do with what she was given and a peaceful day by the pool sounded well enough. They were taken by the bodyguards to the pool and set off shop in the white and bamboo lounge with a VIP sign glued to. Y/N took place in the shadiest place, opening her book, set it on top of her legs and put her earbuds in, getting lost in instrumental soundtracks and beautifully written novels.

Sebastian woke up much later than the two women, picking his phone to check if there were any business news and much to his dismay, there were several things he’d had to go over. Before returning to his work, he decided to go check on Gwen, mostly because he was certain Y/N was most likely by his fianceé’s side. And by her side she was, as he stepped onto the pool courtyard he found the very innocent and naíve Y/N scantily clad in a bright red swimsuit in Baywatch fashion. Suddenly, his pants felt tighter and his mind was screaming at him not to look at the handmaid when his future wife was even more scantily dressed than her.

Y/N noticed his presence, pushing her red rimmed sunglasses down a bit to the bridge of her nose to look at him before pushing them back up and raising her book her. She was definitely upset at him and he couldn’t apologise for his behaviour in front of Gwen.

Sebastian grabbed his phone from his back pocket, dialling a very familiar number before turning his back on the two girls.

- I’m gonna need a favour. - he mumbled as he walked away to return to his business.

- Y/N! - Gwen poked her handmaid’s arm, making her take her earbuds off and eventually ending her peaceful moment. - Look at those guys, they’re are totally checking us out.

Y/N rolled her eyes, rotating her head ever to slightly look at the men on the other side on the pool. They looked exactly like the same type of guys she had gone to university with and none of them held a candle to Sebastian. Wait. Why was she comparing them to Sebastian? Of course they looked nothing like the mob boss, they weren’t being apparently closed off about their flirting, were significantly younger and ... well ... they did not look like him. But he was engaged and it was clear he was probably still mad at her. Despite that, Y/N was still not in the mood to play wing woman to Gwen.

- They are definitely staring at you, Gwen.

- Aw, what’s that? Are you saving yourself for someone else or something?

- I’m just not in the mood. - she sighed. - Besides, they’re just looking for a passing fancy.

- A forever romantic, aren’t you? C’mon, is there someone I should know about?

- I don’t think anyone is interested in me like that, Gwen.

- C’mon! Don’t you have someone whose touch lingers a little bit after they’ve done so? - yes. God yes, but that someone whose touch lingered around every time they happened. - If you don’t then there’s some guys clearly interested in talking to us.

- You can go, Gweny. You clearly want to go. - Sebastian had left a long time ago, hence why Y/N was rallying her up to do so. Yet, mostly so she could leave her alone which after a while she did, walking up in heels to the group of boys who fanned over her like if she were the impersonation of Venus. After a while of being in the shade reading Dangerous Liasons, Y/N decided to return to her room knowing Gwen was about to retire from the pool herself with one of the boys.

Tired, she put a light and soft white coat on and grabbed her bag before heading to the stairs and onto the lift with Elias constantly on her tail. It wasn’t like she wasn’t used to security but ever since Sebastian assigned her own bodyguard to follow her around, it just felt odd. However, thankfully, she only had one compared to the crowd of six that followed Gwen around.

The lift ride seemed endless when you’re tired but in less than two minutes she was back on her floor and on her bedroom. Throwing her bag onto the bed, she removed the coat and sat down on her duvet, eyes scanning her bedroom until she noticed a black velvety box standing in her dresser.

- Elias?- she called out and immediately the man had his head popped into the slight opening of her door. - What is that box?

- It was left there by the staff. - he shrugged and returned to his position of waiting outside her door.

Curiously, Y/N paced to her dresser, looking at the box as if it were an explosive device before her hands brushed against the velvety material of the box. She didn’t know what it was but whatever it was, it was well packaged in a very expensive looking box. Suspiciously, she opened the box where a note in beige coloured paper was standing on top of a velvet bag. She took the paper in her hands, turning it around to see a rushed yet somehow pleasing handwriting. I’m sorry. S.S. x

Sebastian. Her tummy filled with butterflies as she felt the heat creep onto her cheeks. Placing the card on the table, she grabbed the velvet bag which was slightly heavier than expected and once she opened it to check the contents of it, she couldn’t help but smile at what she saw. It was exactly the same as she remembered, in the same beautiful pure white colour with golden accents. She opened the top of the music box and out came the melody she knew too well accompanied with the crystal ballerina and the Paris landscape.

Without much of a thought, she rushed out of her door and to the front of Sebastian’s suite door, knocking on it rather forcefully.

- Miss Y/N, Mr. Stan isn’t taking any visits right now. - one of his bodyguards rather rudely spoke down to her.

- I’m sorry, I just really need to speak with him. - she held the music box close to her chest. - Please.

- I’m afraid you didn’t hear me correctly. - his hand wrapped around her wrist, pushing her away from the door and into the middle of the hall. - No visits now.

- Could you please let him know that I want to speak with him. Please.

- Listen, Miss Y/N, I see you’re used to experience the same type of privilege as Miss Forrest but you’re an employee and as an employee you schedule appointments and behave like an employee. Are we understood?

- Yes. - she looked down, shifting her weight from side to side.

- Unhand Miss Y/N this second. - the colour from his face drained as his hand lost its grip on her wrist. She looked up to see a very unhappy Sebastian with his arms crossed across his chest and, like a shy child, tip toed over behind him as he condemned the bodyguard. - You are not to touch Miss Y/N without her permission or I’ll cut your fucking hands off. Do you hear me?

- Yes, sir. - Y/N was fascinated by how he didn’t need to scream and how he just kept a grip over power unseen to her. Before she could even process what had just happened, Sebastian placed his hand on the small of her back to lead her back to his suite before closing the door behind them.

- You should’ve called out for me when you knocked. - his gaze lowered to the music box in her hands. - I see you’ve got my gift. I’m so sorry for the way I treated you last night.

- This is the most thoughtful thing someone has ever done for me. I can’t believe you remembered. - her fingers traced the pattern on the music box, smiling mindlessly. - Thank you so much, Sebastian. I don’t know ... I don’t even know how to repay the favour.

- It’s a gift, angel. You really should stop trying to repay gifts. - his hand grazed over her forearm. The lingering touch, there is was, and she couldn’t help but stare into his cerulean eyes. - I wasn’t in my best behaviour last night and I wanted to apologise.

Y/N softly smiled, all the worries from last night fading away as she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a hug which took him by surprise. She had put her music box by the side and Sebastian stood there not entirely sure what to do with himself, all he knew is that it felt good to have her in his arms in a way like nothing else ever felt. The hug seemed too short as both of them pulled away, staring into each other’s eyes until the magnetism just became too much for any of them to handle and as if she were bewitched she leaned forward, connecting her lips to his in what felt like the blooming of various emotions she was yet to experience.

It’s really something.

tag list: @lilya-petrichor @xoxohannahlee @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater @nikkipea @madisonpillstrom @cevans98 @thelostallycat @sideeffectsofyou @anxiousdreamersworld

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan drabble #sebastian stan fanfic #mob!sebastian stan x reader #mob!sebastian stan #mob boss! sebastian stan

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inkjam-moon · 5 years

Text

Sweet & Spicy - Part Two(M)

Summary: Your first visit to Jeongguk’s house goes horribly wrong

Pairing: Jeongguk x Reader

Genre: Fluff, smut, a little angst

Word Count: 8.1k

TW: jin being rude af, almost sex, oral, bj

It’s been seven months since Jeongguk asked you to be his, and you can’t remember ever making a better decision in your life. Jeongguk is already the sweetest, funniest, and most amazing person you’ve ever known, but add ‘boyfriend’ to all that and somehow he becomes even more so. The two of you spend even more time together now, if that’s even possible. If he isn’t working, Jeongguk is at your apartment; sometimes even when you’re not there, he’ll just wait for you.

The two of you continue your movie night tradition, although now you always stop at the swings to eat, the spot having become sort of a special place for the both of you, and then you hold hands as you walk back to your place. The two of you are constantly curled up on the couch together, snuggled up under some blankets, content with just being together.

You know that you’re going to be Jeongguk’s first everything, and therefore, you don’t push him. You let him take his time, you let him go slow, now matter how impatient you get because you care about him so much. The only thing that you don’t understand is why you can never hang out at his place.

For as long as you’ve known Jeongguk, you’ve know about who he is; Jeon Jeongguk of BTS, a famous idol that travels the world to perform, and you know he lives at a dorm with six other guys, but the fact that seven months into your relationship, and two years into your friendship he still hasn’t introduced you to them, bothers you. You don’t really understand why he won’t; Jeongguk has met almost all of your friends, but he won’t let you meet the most important people in his life, the people that he spends all of his time with when he’s not with you.

You’ve seen them. You know who they are, who in Korea doesn’t at this point? Yet every time you even bring them up in conversation, Jeongguk shuts the topic down. You don’t know what’s got him so scared to introduce you. You know he will eventually, and you’re letting him take his time, but you can’t deny that a small part of you, deep down inside is really put off by it.

Speaking of letting Jeongguk take his time, the two of you have never done anything other than kiss and cuddle. You absolutely adore the sweet, gentle make out sessions on your couch, his lips are so soft every time they caress yours, and you quickly became addicted to the feeling, but sometimes after he goes home, you slip into your bed and pleasure yourself, letting your imagination run wild with the thought of what he’s going to do to you when you finally get to that point.

Jeongguk is a bit nervous and clumsy when it comes to your intimate moments. The first time you made out, he didn’t really know what he was doing and there was a bit too much tongue, but he learns quickly, and once you showed him what to do, he became so good that every time he kisses you, it makes your knees weak.

Today, you’re sitting on your couch alone, waiting for Jeongguk to text you that he’s done with rehearsal and is on his way over. You ended up watching some sort of cooking competition and you’re starting to get hungry. You pick up your phone to ask Jeongguk to bring some food when your phone buzzes in your hand from none other than the one you were about to text.

Kookie (6:37pm): Hey, do you want to come over to the dorm?

You (6:37pm): Wait, seriously?

Kookie (6:39pm): Yeah

You (6:40pm): Does this mean I get to meet everyone?

You watch Jeongguk’s typing bubble appear and disappear several times before he finally replies.

Kookie (6:43pm): They won’t be there…

Well, you’ll take what you can get.

You (6:43pm): Yeah, I’ll be right there!

Kookie (6:44pm): Okay! I’ll meet you at the swings!

You close your phone and hop up off the couch, grabbing your bag before heading out the door and down the street to the park. It’s a short walk, and when you round the corner, Jeongguk’s silhouette comes into view, sporting a light jacket and sweatpants, both black of course, along with a facemask. He smiles wide when he sees you, you can tell from the crinkling of his eyes as he rushes to meet you, pulling down his mask briefly enough to place a sweet kiss on your lips. The two of you haven’t seen each other in about a week and a half, so you understand when his lips linger on yours a bit longer than his usual public displays.

“Hi baby.” You smile back at him as he grabs your hand and pulls his mask back into place.

“I’ve missed you. Are you ready?” He asks.

“Of course!” You nod excitedly.

“Okay, let’s go!” He takes his hold on your hand and uses it to tug you down the street, leading you down the familiar path to his dorm. You’ve stood outside the building to wait for him before, so you know where it is, but you’ve never been allowed in, always having to patter out on the sidewalk as you wait.

It’s not a far walk from your apartment; you use the dance studio as a halfway point, but in reality his place is a bit farther away from the studio than yours is; and when you get there you take in the sheer grandeur of the building, always amazed at the fact that he can actually afford to live here.

Jeongguk leads you into the building and you’re equally amazed at the sight of the lavish lobby. You can’t help but feel unbelievably out of place. You’re tugged over to the elevator and you both step inside when the doors open. Jeongguk presses the button for his floor as the doors close and then the elevator takes off, the doors opening again on Jeongguk’s floor. You both step out into a small room with a door and Jeongguk punches the code into the keypad to unlock the door.

You walk into the entry room as Jeongguk shuts the door behind you to see what seems like hundreds of pairs of shoes stacked on the shelves lining the walls. You slip your shoes off and place them in front of the shelf as Jeongguk takes his sneakers off and places them in one of the empty spots. He pulls you into the next room and flicks on the light and your eyes take in the sight before you.

To be quite honest, it just looks like a normal living room; possessions strewn about, a large tv with several gaming consoles attached, three large couches, a couple laptops laying around; if you didn’t see all the clothes lying about with designer names emblazoned on them, you’d think it was just the apartment of a few average college roommates.

“So, this is the living room.” Jeongguk mumbles. “It’s where we spend most of our time.”

“It’s impressive.” You nod in approval, making Jeongguk smile.

“Over here,” He starts, tugging you along through a door to the right. “Is the kitchen.” He flicks on another light and you see a rather large kitchen with marble countertops, two large refrigerators, an island with a sink on it; all of which are plated with stainless steel. God what you wouldn’t give to cook in this kitchen. “Are you thirsty?”

“A little bit yeah.”

“Water?” He asks, dropping your hand for the first time since you met up as he walks over to one of the fridges.

“Please?”

He nods and reaches in, grabbing a bottle of water for you and walking back over to place it in your hand, but he doesn’t give you time to drink before he’s dragging you out a doorway at the side of the kitchen and into a hallway. He points to the door down at the far left end.

“That’s Hobi hyung, Jimin, and Taehyung’s room The one across from it is their bathroom. The next one is Jin hyung and Yoongi hyung’s room.” Then he skips a door and points to the door at the far right end. “That’s the study slash inhouse studio.” He tugs you into the hallway and points to the only door left on the wall to your right. “That’s our bathroom, and this,” he grabs the doorknob on the door he skipped earlier. “Is my and Namjoon hyung’s room.” He twists the doorknob and pushes the door open, leading you into his bedroom.

The sight is overwhelming at first; there’s music equipment everywhere and several computer monitors on each of the two desks in the room, but as Jeongguk tugs you further in, leading you past the first desk and bed, you recognize the teddy bear you got him for his birthday last month where it sits perched atop what must be his bed.

“This is my bed.” He states, plopping himself down on the mattress and tossing his face mask across the room onto his desk.

“I could tell when I saw Little Kookie.” You state, sitting down next to him and grabbing the teddy bear.

“I told you, his name is Charlie.” Jeongguk pouts, taking the bear from your hands and hugging it.

“Whatever his name, he’s still not as cute as you.” You state, booping Jeongguk’s nose, making his face scrunch in faux annoyance.

“You’re the cute one.” He mumbles, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on your lips. He pulls back for a split second before going back in for a second kiss, and before you know it, his lips seems to be stuck to yours. Charlie is tossed to the side as Jeongguk’s hands reach up to cup your face, pulling you closer as he tilts his head, deepening the kiss.

You scoot closer, swiping your tongue along his bottom lip as a suggestion, asking him to part his lips, which he quickly does, allowing you to slip your tongue into his mouth to taste how sweet he always seems to be.

With no effort at all, Jeongguk sweeps you up and pushes you down onto your back, crawling between your legs without separating your mouths. This time it’s his tongue that slides between your lips, making you gasp lightly as his hips grind up against yours for the first time. The contact surprises you, and you break the kiss, pulling back to stare up at him in question. You’ve never seen him like this before; his breathing has picked up significantly, his pupils are blown wide, and his bottom lip is red from all the kissing; he looks so delectably sexy.

“Kookie, what-”

“Noona I want to… I want you.” He whispers. “I want you to take it…”

Your eyes go wide when you realize exactly what it is he wants. “Kook, are you sure? I mean-”

“I’m sure. I-I’ve been thinking about it a lot actually. I want to have sex. And I want my first time to be with you. And every time after that…” He whispers the last part, a light blush filling his cheeks.

“Jeongguk-ah…” You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face at his confession, reaching up to cup his flushed cheeks to pull him down for a chaste kiss. “Okay.”

“Okay? Really?” His eyes light up with excitement.

“Really.” You giggle.

Instead of more words, Jeongguk seals your agreement by leaning down to kiss you again, tugging on your bottom lip before slipping his tongue back into your mouth. You slide your hands down his chest, tugging his jacket off and tossing it to the side before slipping your hands under his shirt like you’ve done so many times before, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your palms as his lips slip away to find your neck, immediately biting down on your collarbone, making you moan lightly.

Jeongguk’s head shoots up at the noise. “Are you okay?” He asks, wondering if he did something wrong.

“Yes.” You chuckle. “Kook, that felt good.”

“O-oh, okay.” Jeongguk smiles innocently before returning to your neck, leaving hot kisses all along the expanse of skin, from your jaw to your shoulder, as his trembling hands pop open the buttons of your jeans and very carefully begin to tug them down. You lift your hips to help him and as soon as the denim is deposited on his floor, you grab the waistband of his sweatpants and wiggle them down over his hips.

He kicks the fabric off his legs onto the floor and then pulls the covers down, allowing you both to slip under them as Jeongguk settles himself between your legs, his now very obvious erection pressing against your center and you relish in the friction as you drag him back to meet your lips.

“Y-Y/N, wait,” Jeongguk breaks from you, breathless. “I-I probably should’ve thought of this before, but…” He sighs. “I don’t have a condom.”

“You got tested like I asked you to, right?” You ask.

Jeongguk nods. “I’m clean.”

“Then it’s okay baby. I have an IUD, remember?”

“Oh right… What is that again?”

You giggle at his innocence. “It’s birth control Kookie.”

“Ohhhh right, okay.”

“Can we get back to what we were doing then?” You ask, sliding a hand down his body to cup his hardness over his boxers. Jeongguk gasps at your touch, his body shivering with pleasure. He grabs your hips and pulls you down against him as he leans over and kisses you again.

Jeongguk pulls his boxers down to mid thigh, in too much of a hurry to take them off all the way. One of Jeongguk’s hands finds its way in between your legs and pulls your panties to the side. “Fuck,” His hips buck into your hand as he swears under his breath. “Oh god, oh god, oh god this is happening.”

“Jeongguk look at me baby.” You request softly. His wide brown eyes find yours and you cup his face gently. “Take a deep breath for me.” He nods, closing his eyes and following your instructions, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly to help calm himself. When he opens his eyes again, there isn’t as much panic in them.

“Noona, I love you.” He whispers.

You heart flutters in your chest as you caress his cheek, smiling softly. “Kookie, I-”

“Hey Kook are you- What the fuck?!”

Jeongguk’s body goes rigid on top of you as you both look in the direction of the new voice. It’s one of Jeongguk’s roommates. Oh shit.

“Jeon Jeongguk, what the hell are you doing?”

“J-Jin hyung? What are you doing home?”

“Saving your ass apparently!” Jin exclaims, walking over to the bed and yanking Jeongguk off of it by the collar of his shirt. “Are you crazy?”

“It’s not what it looks like!” Jeongguk protests, shoving his suddenly flaccid self back in his boxers as you sit up.

“So you didn’t pretend to be sick so you could stay home and get laid?”

“Hyung I-”

“Couch. Now.” Jin orders, looking back and forth between you and Jeongguk before adding, “Her too.”

Jeongguk nods as he stands, grabbing your hand a pulling you out of his bed and out into the hallway where some of the other boys are standing; they must’ve heard the commotion and come to investigate. Jin storms past the two of you and heads into the kitchen while Jeongguk drags you into the living room to the big couch, offering you a seat first before he takes on next to you, but far enough away that you’re not touching.

You’ve never seen Jeongguk look so… ashamed. His head hangs low as he stares at his lap, both of you awkwardly sitting on the couch in nothing but your underwear and a t shirt. You’re about to ask Jeongguk what’s happening when Jin stomps back into the room, mid conversation with another roommate, followed by five more curious bodies.

“Jin calm down. I’m sure there’s an explanation.” The roommate says, the tallest of the group of them.

“There better be.” Jin growls, coming to stand in front of the couch to glare at Jeongguk. “Jeon Jeongguk I want you to tell me what the hell you think you’re doing!”

“Hyung, I swear, it’s not what it looks like.” Jeongguk whimpers.

“Really? Because it looks like you were about to lose your virginity to a prostitute!” Jin explodes, his eyes ablaze with fury.

“Jin that’s a bit far.” Another boy, shorter with dark hair and cat-like eyes, interrupts.

“Who the hell are you calling a prostitute?” You spit.

“She can understand us?” Jin asks Jeongguk.

You roll your eyes. “Yes. She can.”

“Jin why would you assume that?” The cat-eyed boy speaks again.

Jin’s eyes go wide when you speak and suddenly he’s fumbling for words. “Well I- You- I just-”

“You think just because I’m a foreigner I’m a prostitute?”

“You were in bed! Naked!” Jin exclaims. “Am I supposed to believe you weren’t going to fuck him?”

“That doesn’t make her a prostitute Jin.” The tall one argues.

“But she’s a foreigner!” Jin protests. “You’re a foreigner! I bet you just met him today!”

“For your information, I’ve lived here for almost three years and have known Jeongguk for two of them.” You state as you stand up, coming face to face with Jin.

“Oh great. What are you, his stalker?”

You can feel your ears turning red from the anger coursing through your veins. “I’m his girlfriend!” The other boys around the room gasp at this. “Have been for seven months.”

“Bullshit. If he had a girlfriend he would have told us.”

“You think so? When he knows you’d blow up like this? No wonder he didn’t want me to meet you.”

“You’re lying!” Jin accuses.

“Jeongguk, tell him.” You turn to face the shell of a man sitting on the couch who looks up at you with wide, terrified eyes. He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes up as he looks back and forth between you and Jin, panicked. “Kook…” Your voice softens at the sight of him like this and you immediately move to comfort him, but Jin grabs your wrist and pulls you away.

“Don’t touch him.”

You wrench yourself free. “Don’t touch me. I just want to make sure he’s okay.”

“Get out.” Jin growls when you move toward Jeongguk again.

“Just let me check on him.”

“You didn’t have sex, so he’s not going to pay you. I said get out.”

“Hyung-” The tall one chides.

“I’m not a fucking prostitute! Kook…” You sit down next to Jeongguk, hoping he’ll defend you, but he refuses to even look at you.

“You should go…” He whispers. “This was a mistake.”

“Are you serious?” You ask, a bit hurt by his words. He just nods. “Fine.” You state. You stand again and start walking in the direction of Jeongguk’s room, but you’re stopped once more.

“Where are you going?” Jin hisses, his hand wrapped around your wrist again. “The door is the other way.”

“I’m getting my fucking pants.” You spit, nearly pulling him to the floor with the force you use to yank your wrist free. You disappear into Jeongguk’s room and pull on your jeans, grabbing your phone that fell out of your pocket and then heading back out into the living room to the front door. As you slip your shoes on, you look up to see six pairs of eyes on you, not seven. You stomp your foot to make sure your shoe is on and then open the door, looking back over your shoulder one last time. “Jeongguk…Don’t call me again.”

“What? Y/N-” But before you hear what he has to say, you slam the door and head to the stairs, going down them as fast as you can and out onto the street where you feel like you can breathe again. You hail a cab and head home, not wanting to walk through the park.

When you step into your apartment, you fall apart. You can’t believe he didn’t defend you. He didn’t say anything. And it fucking hurt. To have his closest friends think you’re nothing more than some common foreign prostitute… You immediately head to the shower to rinse away the bad feelings. You check your phone one last time before you head to sleep, and when you see no notifications, the cracks forming in your heart deepen.

It’s been a week. A whole week without Jeongguk and it feels like a lifetime. Not a single call or text, nothing. It wasn’t until the next morning that you started to regret what you said to Jeongguk, but the more you thought about it, the angrier you got. He should’ve defended you. He should’ve said something. Anything. But here you are, a week later, and still not a word from him.

It’s movie night and you’ve never felt so empty. You’re sitting on the couch in your comfy clothes, getting ready to crack open a bottle of wine and watch a depressing movie to sadden yourself further in an attempt to start moving on.

Just as you curl up under your favorite blanket your phone starts to vibrate next to you. You pick it up to see the only name you want to see, and yet at the same time, you don’t want to see it. Jeongguk. You stare at your phone, deciding whether or not you should answer it, but by the time you decide, it stops ringing. Shit. You go to put your phone down, but it immediately starts vibrating again. This time you only wait two rings before answering it.

“Hello?”

“Noona…”

“Jeongguk.” You whisper to keep your voice from cracking.

“Are… Are you home?”

“Of course I am. It’s Friday.” You’re always off on Fridays because it’s movie night.

“I know, I just didn’t know if you had plans.”

“I’m home Jeongguk. What do you want?”

“For you to answer the door.”

“What?” Just then you hear a faint knock on your front door. You stand and walk over, unlocking and opening it to see Jeongguk standing there in the hallway as he hangs up his phone. You do the same as you shoot him a glare.

“Can I come in?” He asks quietly.

You roll your eyes, but step to the side, allowing him to enter before shutting the door behind him. He walks over to the couch and picks up your bottle of wine, raising his eyebrows at you, but when he sees the look in your eyes he sets it back down and sticks his hands in his pockets.

You sigh and plop yourself down on the couch. “What do you want Jeongguk?”

“I want to apologize. That… That really wasn’t how I wanted things to go.”

“No kidding.” You scoff.

“I should’ve stood up for you. I should’ve said something. I was just so shocked that Jin hyung would jump to conclusions like that. I can’t believe he thought you were… But after you left, I explained everything to Namjoon hyung and he told the others so I wouldn’t get yelled at again. I was just afraid of what they’d say. They’re protective of me so they can be really judgemental of my friends. I wanted to call you so many times, but I was afraid you were still mad at me.”

“You’re a little too late.”

“Please don’t say that. Noona, I meant what I said. I love you so much, I really do, and after you left I realized I didn’t want to lose you. I just wanted to give you some time to not hate me so much…”

“Jeongguk… I could never hate you.” You admit. He perks up at this. “I love you too much.” You state, a small smile creeping onto your lips.

“I’m so sorry noona, please forgive me.” He pleads, taking a seat on the couch next to you and grabbing your hands.

You reach up and cup his cheek. “I forgive you baby.” He breaks into a wide smile until you abruptly pull your hands away. “But I’m still mad at you.”

“That’s okay, you can be mad at me all you want, as long as you’re mine.” He prompts.

“Of course I’m yours Kookie.” In lieu of a response, Jeongguk tackles you to the couch and plants kisses all over your face, making you burst out into giggles. “Okay, okay!” You squeak. “Let me go you dork!” Jeongguk sits up, a wide smile plastered on his face as you roll your eyes at him. “What movie tonight?”

“You pick. Anything you want.”

“You’re going to regret saying that.” You state, turning on the movie you had already planned on watching. It’s quiet for a few minutes, Jeongguk snuggled up next to you as the opening credits play.

“Oh um, noona?” Jeongguk whispers, looking over at you.

“Mm?”

“They want to meet you.”

“Who?”

“My hyungs…”

“Right. Because that went so well the first time.” You shake your head, turning your attention back to the screen.

“They mean well, I promise! Please give them another chance?” He begs, jutting his bottom lip out in a pout; he knows you can’t resist that face.

“Fiiine.” You relent.

“Thank you.” He leans down a places a soft kiss on your lips, lingering for a few extra seconds. “I missed you.”

“Can we watch the movie please?” You giggle, pushing his face away playfully, but he pushes right back and rests his head on your shoulder, snuggling up half on top of you.

“I really did miss you.”

“I missed you too Kook.”

A week later you’re sitting in one of the personal cubicles at a cafe, coffee in front of you, Jeongguk’s hand clenched tightly in your own as your leg bounces with anxiety.

“Noona, are you okay?” Jeongguk asks for the millionth time.

“I’m fine. Just preparing myself to meet the infamous hyungs who hate me.”

Jeongguk scoffs. “They don’t hate you. How many times do I have to tell you? They’re actually really excited to meet you.” He lifts your hand to his mouth and places a reassuring kiss against your knuckles just as the door slides open and two men walk up to the table.

“Are we interrupting something?” One of them asks as they both giggle.

“Always.” Jeongguk states as he stands up, giving them both some sort of high-five handshake. “What took you guys so long?”

“Tae couldn’t decide on what to wear.” The shorter one states as he sits down.

“I had to look nice!” The other one whines. “I wanted to make a good impression.”

“Ignore him.” The short one says, looking at you now. “You must be the girlfriend?” He asks, leaning back in his chair. You nod silently. “Not as feisty with your clothes on, huh?”

“Hyung!” Jeongguk scolds. “You said you’d be nice.”

“I’m just teasing! Introduce us Kookie.” The short one urges.

“Right!” Jeongguk exclaims, sitting up a little straighter. “Guys, this is my girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N, these are my hyungs: Jimin,” He points to the short one. “And Taehyung.” The nicely dressed one. Both of their faces are covered by masks, understandable; it must be hard for them to go anywhere without getting recognized. They both have blonde hair, Jimin’s is more of a sandy blonde, where as Taehyung’s is a much lighter bleached blonde, almost white.

“It’s nice to meet you Y/N!” Taehyung sticks out his hand, which you accept.

“It’s nice to meet you both as well.” You stick out your hand to Jimin after Taehyung pulls away and he accepts it, placing a kiss on your knuckles much like Jeongguk did a few moments ago, only through his mask.

“Hyung!” Jeongguk whines, snatching your hand away from Jimin.

“Kookie, it’s just a greeting.” Jimin teases.

“Keep your lips off my girl!” Jeongguk hisses, pulling you closer, making you giggle at his protectiveness.

“Aw he’s so defensive.” Taehyung coos. “I wish I had someone to protect like that.”

“How did you guys meet anyway?” Jimin interrupts Taehyung’s pouting. “The more I look at you, the more familiar you seem.”

“Minsung hyung.” Jeongguk states.

“Minsung, our dancer, Minsung?” Taehyung asks.

You nod. “Minsung oppa and I… well,”

“They used to date.” Jeongguk explains.

“Ah, and when they broke up little Kookie was there to pick up the pieces?” Jimin asks.

“Not exactly.” Jeongguk shrugs.

“It took two years for ‘little Kookie’ to work up the courage to ask me out.” You giggle.

“And how long ago was that?” Jimin asks.

“Almost eight months.” Jeongguk informs them, smiling sweetly at you.

“Aw, you guys are so cute~” Taehyung exclaims, clapping his hands together.

Jimin leans back in his chair and shakes his head as he pulls his mask down, revealing his plump lips and full cheeks. “Wait a second. If you’ve been together for that long, then you guys have already done it, right?” Jimin breaks into a wide smile. “Our maknae finally got some?”

“We would’ve if you guys hadn’t come home early the other night.” Jeongguk goes quiet and looks down at the floor, so you step in.

“We haven’t had time.” You state simply.

“Haven’t had time? That’s a lame excuse.” Jimin laughs, elbowing Taehyung. “I bet he’s just too afraid to do it with an experienced woman.”

“Jesus, and you wonder why Jeongguk didn’t want to tell you guys about us.” You scoff, tightening your grip on Jeongguk’s hand.

“Yeah hyung.” Taehyung chides. “Why are you being so mean today?”

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” Jimin bows his head in apology. “But you really haven’t?”

Jeongguk shakes his head. “We really haven’t had time.”

“If you’d have told us the other night, we’d have forced the hyungs to stay out!” Taehyung informs him.

Jimin agrees. “Yeah, you know we would’ve helped you Kook.”

“Well that’s good to know if we ever try again at the dorm.” You joke. “Which will be never.”

“Understandable.” Taehyung nods.

“Have you guys done anything?” Jimin prys.

“Why do you need to know?” You ask, suddenly annoyed hat how desperate Jimin is to learn about your sex life.

“Noona…” Jeongguk quietly scolds.

“Because I want to see if Jeongguk really is good at everything.” Jimin answers.

You can’t help but laugh. “I was hoping you didn’t have a point, but you’ve got me there.”

You spend the rest of lunch chit chatting, learning more about each other. Turns out Taehyung and Jimin are actually very sweet and kind of hilarious. They remind you of Jeongguk, a bit of both of their personalities noticeable in your boyfriend, and you can tell they’ve been close for a long time with how they act with one another, but after about an hour, it’s time to say goodbye.

“Alright, we’ve got to get to dance rehearsal before Hobi hyung kills us.” Jimin states as he and Taehyung stand, gathering their things. “You coming Kook?”

“Yeah, I’m right behind you.” He nods, they smile in understanding, slide the door open, and make their way out, leaving you alone with Jeongguk who immediately turns to you.

“Well?” He asks hopefully, biting his bottom lip.

“They’re not so bad.” You shrug playfully. “I guess they’re okay.”

“Thank you jagiya.” Jeongguk leans in and give you a sweet kiss before pulling his own mask up. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Okay, have fun at dance baby.” You blow him a kiss as he rushes out the door to follow his elders. You lean back in your chair and drink the last of your coffee before standing and heading back home.

Three days later it’s the middle hyung’s turn. He’s invited you and Jeongguk to visit his studio which makes you nervous as it makes the matter seem more private not having it in a public space, but in an enclosed studio. When you arrive outside his door, Jeongguk quickly knocks before immediately entering, not even waiting for a response. You would think they’d have locks on these doors so they could focus.

“Hyung!” Jeongguk exclaims, yanking you over the threshold.

“Kook! I’m glad you made it.” He states, standing up. He’s taller than the others you met. In fact, he’s really just… tall. His hair is brushed back under a beanie but from what you can see it’s a light brown. He also has large square framed glasses on. “This must be Y/N who I’ve heard so much about?” He sticks out a hand.

“Yep!” Jeongguk pushes you forward happily and you take the outstretched hand.

“It’s nice to meet you Y/N.” He says, shaking your hand and bowing his head a little. “I’m Namjoon.”

“Namjoon hyung’s our leader!” Jeongguk explains.

“Ah so you’re the one that has to keep them in line.” You joke.

“I try my best, but you’ve seen how at least the younger ones act when they’re together, right?”

“That I have, and I can’t say I envy you.”

“I don’t think anyone does.” Namjoon laughs. “But please, have a seat.” He points to the couch behind his computer chair. You and Jeongguk seat yourselves and Namjoon takes his seat back in his chair and turns it to face you both. “So, tell me how this all happened.”

Jeongguk speaks freely today; much more comfortable divulging information to Namjoon than he was to Taehyung and Jimin for some reason; he tells Namjoon about how you met, your friendship, how he asked you out, how long you’ve been dating, everything, not missing a single detail. When he’s finished, Namjoon leans back in his chair, seemingly pondering something.

“Well, I’m glad Jeongguk-ah found someone that makes him happy.” He finally says, offering up a wide smile. “But you two should be more careful around the dorm. I don’t know how many times you’ve done things there before, but from now on, at least tell me first, so we don’t have a repeat incident of last week, yeah?”

“That was the first time…” Jeongguk states.

Namjoon quirks up an eyebrow. “The first time at the dorm or…?” Jeongguk only nods. “Jeongguk we’ve talked about this.”

“I know. I didn’t think it was actually going to happen, it just… it just happened.”

“Yeah, it was definitely a ‘spur of the moment’ kind of thing.” You agree.

“Alright. Well, Y/N I don’t know your level of experience, but just remember if you have any questions, either of you,” Namjoon nods at you. “Don’t be afraid to ask, okay?”

“Thank you Namjoon, that’s really kind of you.” You say, offering him a smile.

“You’re the best, hyung.” Jeongguk agrees.

“Of course. The only thing I ask preemptively is that you two be safe when the time comes, okay?”

You nod. “I’ve got that taken care of.”

Namjoon claps his hands together. “Awesome. Now I have to get back to work, you guys can hang around if you want and listen in for a bit.”

“Noona?” Jeongguk turns to you.

“Are you sure?” You ask Namjoon.

“Yeah I don’t mind. It’s nice to have company and a fresh ear sometimes.”

“Can we order lunch?” Jeongguk asks.

“Kook, we just ate.” You chide.

“That was like an hour ago!” He whines. “How about just a snack?”

You know there’s no use fighting it so you simply shrug, watching as Namjoon turns back to his work and listening to the song he’s working on as Jeongguk orders takeout.

It’s friday. Movie night. You’re in the kitchen making popcorn as Jeongguk’s running late after helping Namjoon with something in the studio, but he made sure to tell you when he was on a his way, and just as the microwave dings, there’s a knock on the door.

“It’s open!” You call as you pull the popcorn out and shake the bag to get all the extra kernels to pop.

“Noona?” Jeongguk asks.

“In the kitchen!” You answer, pulling a bowl out of the cabinet and dumping the popcorn in it as a pair of arms encircle your waist, squeezing you tightly.

“I’ve missed you.” Jeongguk whines into your neck.

You giggle. “It’s been three days Kook.”

“Three whole days.” He pouts, placing a kiss against your neck.

You turn to face him. “As opposed to sunday when you leave for two whole weeks.”

“Exactly. So forgive me if I want to spend as much time with you as I can.”

“Then I suggest you get your cute butt out on that couch.” You state, shoving the bowl of popcorn at him.

He shoves a handful of popcorn in his mouth before taking the bowl and walking back to the living room with you following behind him. Jeongguk plops himself down on the couch and then yanks you down next to him.

“So what are we watching?” He asks.

“It’s called ‘A Portrait of Beauty’.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s supposed to be really good. It’s about a painter in the Joseon era who pretends to be a man. It has Chu Ja Hyeon in it.”

“Oh, really? Hm. Alright, let’s give it a go.” He nods as you press play.

The movie is good. You and Jeongguk both get really absorbed in it, and it’s great; you love your time snuggled up with your boyfriend on the couch, just the two of you, his arms wrapped tightly around you, that is, until he starts to fidget. You’re only about halfway through the movie when Jeongguk shifts, crossing his legs and removing his arms from around you to lay his hands in his lap. You shrug and turn back to the movie, but he doesn’t stop, for the next several minutes, Jeongguk shifts back and forth, seemingly uncomfortable; you wouldn’t mind, but he keeps bumping into you every time he shifts, making it hard to pay attention to what’s happening on the screen.

“Okay, what?” You ask, pausing the movie and turning to face Jeongguk.

“W-what?” Jeongguk asks.

“What’s wrong with you? Can’t you sit still?”

“O-oh, s-sorry.” He mumbles, a blush dusting his cheeks as he looks down at his lap.

“Nope, I know that face, what’s wrong.”

“Nothing! I-It’s nothing.”

“Kook,” You soften your tone. “Talk to me babe.”

“It- I…”

“Is it the movie?”

Jeonguk rubs his neck like he’s ashamed. “K-kind of, I just…”

“I can turn it off? We can watch something else if you want?”

“N-no, you don’t have to I just… It’s kind of… turning me on.” He mumbles the words so lowly you almost don’t hear him.

“Wait, what?”

“I-I’m, uh… Yeah…”

You look up at the screen to see you’ve been so distracted by Jeongguk’s fidgeting that you didn’t even know there was a sex scene happening, right in front of your eyes. No wonder he’s uncomfortable, Korean movies really go all out with their sex scenes sometimes, it’s almost like softcore porn really; and you’ve paused it right on a close up shot of the actresses breasts being fondled. You give your boyfriend a once over, studying just how affected he is; pink cheeks, heavy breathing, his hands in his lap probably pushing down his erection. Suddenly an idea pops into your head; why not give him a little taste of what it’s like?

You grab the popcorn bowl and set it on the coffee table in front of you before getting up on your knees and leaning over Jeongguk to firmly plant your lips against his like you’ve done so many times before. You can feel him physically relax at your touch as you cup his face, slipping your tongue between his lips to hear that little gasp of his that drives you wild. You place one of your hands on his thigh as you move your lips to his neck, pressing light kisses against his skin as your hand moves up to the bulge in his jeans and presses against it.

“N-noona…” Jeongguk gasps. “W-what are you doing?”

“It’s a going away present.” You whisper, tugging on his earlobe with your teeth as your hands unbuckle his belt.

“I-I… Noona- hah-” He grips the sofa cushions beneath him, not entirely sure what to do with his hands.

“I can stop if you’re uncomfortable baby.” You assure him, pressing a wet kiss to his pulse point before sitting back.

“No!” He exclaims, a little too eagerly. “I mean- n-no, please… please don’t stop.”

You smirk, leaning forward and sucking a dark bruise on his collarbone. “That should give the makeup team something to do.” You joke, making him crack a smile as you move to get on your knees in front of him. Jeongguk visibly gulps so you rub your hands along his thighs. “Relax for me Kookie, yeah? I wanna make you feel good.” You coo.

Jeongguk lets out a stuttered breath as he nods and you take that as your cue. You pop open the button of his jeans and slide down the zipper, making sure your hands brush against him at every possible moment before you grab the waistband of his jeans and tug them down to mid thigh; the rather large patch of precum staining the front of his boxers causing you to pause, but before he can ask questions, you lean forward and drag your tongue along Jeongguk’s length overtop of the fabric, causing him to let out a low, shaky moan. You grab his boxers and yank them down along with his jeans, letting the fabric pool on the floor in front of you as Jeongguk’s erection springs to life.

Since this is your first time actually seeing it, you wrap a hand around the base of it and stroke him slowly, allowing you to study it for a moment. He’s a little longer than average, maybe seven or so inches, and he’s pleasantly thick, but the first thing that catches your eye is that he’s shaved. Completely. Balls and all. And from the looks of the stubble growing back, it was a recent shave, and probably a first one; you’ll ask him about it later; for now, you focus on the dripping red tip of his cock and how it seems to just ache for your mouth.

You look up to see Jeongguk watching you intently, the tiniest moans slipping from his mouth as you stroke him, but his eyes don’t leave your face. You toss him one last wink before leaning forward and wrapping your lips around his tip. Jeongguk’s head immediately falls back against the couch as he groans.

“Hah- Ah, n-noona~ Oh my god~”

You smile to yourself as you sink your mouth down further and further before pulling back, swirling your tongue around the head before dipping it into the slit, absolutely relishing in the sounds of Jeongguk above you. God you’re going to ruin this boy.

You slide your mouth down again and Jeongguk’s hands find your hair, gipping it tightly as he begins to carefully guide your movements; up and down, up and down, and down, and… down? He holds you down against him with his dick in the back of your throat, not paying attention to anything except the feeling of your lips and tongue, that is, until you tap his thigh furiously and he lets you go, popping off him with a gasp. Jeongguk looks amazed as you come up to breathe, a trail of spit connecting you to his cock still.

“Kook… you’ve got to… let me breathe…” You chide lightly, the both of you panting.

“I’m sorry!” He leans forward and cups your face, giving you a swift kiss. “It just felt so good.” Another kiss. “I’ve never felt anything like that before. Does it always feel that good?” He asks as a bit of spit drips down onto your shirt.

“If you know what you’re doing it does.” You state, grabbing your shirt and lifting it off over your head.

“W-what are you doing?” He asks, suddenly nervous again.

“Relax, I just don’t want to get my shirt dirty.” You explain as you reach around and unclasp your bra, letting it fall to the floor. “Besides, it’s more fun this way.” Jeongguk seems mesmerized by your breasts until you push him back against the couch and take him in your mouth again, your breasts pressing against him.

As soon as your lips touch him, Jeongguk goes back to moaning; sweet high pitched gasps and groans spurring you on. You allow Jeongguk to guide your movements for a little longer before you decide to deep throat him again, this time, of your own accord. You take a deep breath and then sink down as far as you can, burying your nose in Jeongguk’s abdomen before immediately pulling back to tease him. He whimpers and grabs your hair again, pushing you back down greedily; but you oblige, taking another deep breath before going back down as far as you can, this time swallowing around Jeongguk’s length as many times as you can as he holds you in place until his cock twitches in your throat and you hear him start to swear.

“Ohhh fuck~ Shit! N-noona~ N-no! No no no no damnit! Hah~ Ah~!”

You pull of just in time for Jeongguk to leave a little bit of cum in your mouth, the saltiness sticking on your tongue, you pull back and stroke Jeongguk to completion, aiming for your mouth, but this boy has no aim apparently, and his white release gets all over your face and chest, including on your left eye. When his orgasm finishes, Jeongguk collapses against the couch, clearly spent, his length already softening in your hand as he pants harshly.

“Um… Kook?”

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I know i-”

“No, no.” You stop him before he can apologize for cumming too fast like you know he’s about to. “I just uh- could you get me a washcloth?”

Jeongguk opens his eyes to see his cum dripping down your face. “Oh god! Hold on!” He jumps up so fast the he forgets his pants are still around his ankles and he trips over them before quickly yanking them back up on his way to your bathroom. You sit on your floor, shirtless and sticky until you hear Jeongguk coming back into the room. “Here.” He kneels down next to you and turns your face toward him. “Let me get your eye for you.”

You jump a bit when the washcloth touches you, but relax as Jeongguk begins to hum softly, cleaning your eye thoroughly before pulling back. When you open your eye it takes a second, but things adjust to show an adorably smiling, flushed Jeongguk kneeling next to you.

“Can you see?” He asks, concerned.

You nod before cracking a smile. “I can see clearly nowww the rain is gooone~” You sing.

“Noona.” Jeongguk rolls his eyes.

“I can see all obstacles in my wayyyy~” You continue. Jeongguk throws the washcloth at your face to stop you. “Hey! That’s not nice. After what I just did for you?”

“Come on, let’s clean you up.” Jeongguk giggles, pulling you up with him and tugging you to the bathroom. You stand in front of the mirror, washing the remnants of Jeongguk off your body as he stands behind you, softly caressing your waist. “Noona?”

“Mm?” You mumble as you splash your face one last time before turning off the water.

Jeongguk hands you a dry towel. “I… I’m sorry for, well, that. I didn’t mean to do it s-so fast and-”

“Jeongguk stop.”

“But noona-”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” You shush him, turning off the light and then pulling him into your bedroom. “Trust me, I wasn’t even expecting you to last that long.” You grab a pajama shirt and tug it on as Jeongguk sheds his jeans and pulls on a pair of shorts he leaves at your house. You both climb into bed and you snuggle up to him. “You did so good for me baby boy.” You whisper, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“N-noona…” He mumbles, embarrassed, but he relaxes at your words.

“So good baby. Now get some sleep, yeah?

“Okay.” You rest your head on his chest, and just as you’re about to drift off you hear him speak again. “Noona?”

“Mm?” You mumble half asleep already.

“I-I love you.”

You sit up at this, looking at Jeongguk’s face, highlighted by the moonlight peeking through the blinds and seeing the sincerity on his face. You smile happily. “I love you too Jeongguk.”

He pulls you down and places a sweet kiss on your lips, lingering for just a bit before breaking the kiss and pulling you closer.

“I love you so much.”

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thedevillord-writes · 5 years

Text

Pandora - Ignorance

"Ignorance is always afraid of change"

-Jawaharlal Nehru

Smoothing out her hair before tying a ponytail, making sure there was no crease on her blouse, and one final spritz of her perfume.

Yumi never thought she would find work so soon after graduation. She knew so many seniors who struggled to find a job, settling for one eventually that matched none of their criteria. Those with whom she graduated too, there was a handful still struggling. She was lucky to come across the employment ad. She applied for it and many others, not carrying high hopes of getting any of them. And just as she expected, all of them came back a rejection. All but one.

Ichinomiya Group

When she saw the two words printed on the envelope, Yumi prepared herself for yet another rejection. This was an exclusive company, many wanted in but many were rejected. Yumi was neither special nor did she have connections, why would she be chosen? Her interview did not go as well as she hoped for it to be either. She went through it like they taught in school, giving robotic and generic answers. She kicked herself in the heel as soon as she left the building, cursing her mind for going blank throughout the interview. Then, there was a miracle.

Somehow, for some reason, she was hired.

The letter was a notice for her to start work next week. She could barely sleep that night, reeling in the high from how unbelievably lucky she was. She spent the next week shopping for new clothes, looking up anything available on the Tres Spades hotel and Ichinomiya Group. She even looked up Youtube videos on how to be a good secretary. She knew going in she was just a replacement for six months but she wanted to do well no matter how short the employment was. She was confident she would do well too. Until she met her.

Matsuoka Haruka. The Wonder Woman, the Golden Secretary. That was what they called her.

Yumi had seen her on the news many times, and she was always by Eisuke's side. She was most definitely a woman to admire. Rumour had it that Eisuke was difficult to work with, hiring and firing secretaries during his earlier years like he was changing clothes. All but Haruka failed. It got Yumi wondering what was so special about her that Eisuke kept her around and was unwilling to let her go.

In the short week she worked with Haruka, Yumi understood why. The Tres Spades hotel became one of Japan's top hotels, if not the best, and Eisuke trusted Haruka solely to help him operate his sole success thus far. Ichinomiya Group was definitely one of the most influential companies around and Haruka was put in a position where she was practically running the company. If Yumi was put under so much pressure, she would have collapsed on day one. But Haruka did not.

Every single problem that came at her, she would calmly solve. And with a smile too.

"Penny for your thought?" Haruka hummed, putting a cup of tea in front of Yumi. "It's chamomile, it should help you relax a little. I know how hard it is working for Mr. Ichinomiya."

There was always that person in class, the perfect student. The one who would hand in the best assignments, get the best grades, had the best looks. The one person whom everyone secretly hated because they wanted to be like them but could not. Haruka was that person. But she could not hate Haruka. Not when she would greet her with a smile always, checking to make sure that she was not too stressed. Haruka was perfect in every way that Yumi was frustrated she was not.

"Do you ever worry that I might replace you completely?" Yumi asked.

"I'm sorry?" Haruka tilted her head slightly, a confused look on her face. It was a rather rude question, Yumi would admit, but she was curious. This was almost anyone's dream job. It paid well and the boss was good looking, one of the most powerful men in Japan. If Yumi had to leave the job for as long as Haruka wanted to, she would be worried.

"Are you not worried at all?"

"Do you think you can replace me?" Haruka asked. Yumi did not. She knew she did not have the skills nor the charisma to ever fully replace Haruka. It was just bizarre how confident someone was in themselves as Haruka was. "If I lose my job, then I lose it," she said. "If you can replace me, that means you are good enough to. And if Mr. Ichinomiya does not need me around, he would not keep me around."

And if there was anything more bizarre than Haruka's confidence in herself, it was the relationship between her and Eisuke.

On the surface, they looked just like an ordinary pair of boss and secretary. Haruka picked up calls, set up meetings, and handed documents for him to sign. Eisuke was a businessman relying on a capable secretary. Though, even Yumi who only worked with them for two weeks could tell that there was something more than a work relationship going on between them. The only people who did not seem to know, however, were Eisuke and Haruka themselves.

Some would argue that it was simply they had spent such a long time by each other's side, they were bond to be close in one way or another. Yumi disagreed though. The interactions between them, the things they would do for each other, Yumi would never have done for her brothers nor her close friends. Neither would they for her. Or at least, not to their extent.

It seemed innocent enough to have the secretary picking out the peas one by one because her boss did not like them, but it made no sense for the boss himself to pick out the peppers for his secretary. Eisuke was significantly taller than Haruka was, even with heels on, and had much longer legs. Yet, he would walk in smaller strides so it would not be a hassle for her to keep up. Whenever Haruka was struggling to walk because of her (ridiculously high) heels, Eisuke would offer his arm subconsciously. Her boyfriend would have just told Yumi to take the heels off.

"Miss Matsuoka, do you believe in soulmates?"

"I believe in the idea of soulmates. I don't think that anyone in this world is made specifically to compliment another." You and Mr. Ichinomiya, Yumi thought but she kept her lips sealed. "I think it's just comforting for us to know that there is someone out there who is perfect for us. No one wants to spend their life thinking that there is nobody out there who would understand why they are the way they are."

"Do you think you've found your soulmate?"

"I don't think so. Even though Mr. Baba tells me everyday that I'm his soulmate," Haruka laughed.

"Don't you want to fall in love with the perfect person to fall in love with?"

Yumi's question seemed to have struck something within Haruka as her expression fell. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard as she stared blankly at the keys. "Is there really such a thing as the perfect person to fall in love with?" Haruka asked. "You think they are perfect but that isn't always the case, is it? Their bad sides start to come out but you still try to convince yourself that they are still the same person you fell in love with. Even when they fall out of love with you, you still try to keep the illusion. All you end up with is hurting yourself and your family."

"Miss Matsuoka?"

It was an innocent question. Or so Yumi thought. The way Haruka reacted was a little scary, to be honest. As she spoke, her hands scrunched up into fists and she was clutching them so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Her eyes started reddening and tears were swelling. Her tone of voice changed too. It was not her usual bright and polite tone but rather, it was full of anger and resentment.

"Miss Matsuoka?"

"I'm sorry," Haruka smiled, snapping out of the little unusual moment. "I've been meaning to tell you this but please, just call me Haruka. There's no need to be so formal with me, we're colleagues and friends."

"Are you okay, Haruka-san?"

"Perfectly fine. Let's get on with work."

Yumi hated the days when Haruka were not there. From what she heard (from Baba), Haruka used to come to work at the early hours but since Yumi started working, she would start late in the day and leave early too. While they were all too scared to tell Eisuke to his face, everyone thought Haruka made the right decision and it was about time she got some rest. Yumi, on the other hand, got a taste of what her life would be like once Haruka went on that leave instead.

When Haruka called in to say that she would come in to work later than usual that day, Yumi prepared herself for the worst when she broke the news to Eisuke. Irritation was obviously visible on his face though it was surprising to see Eisuke keeping it in this time. He did not say a word but simply nodded in acknowledgement.

"Take lunch off. You don't have to come with for the meeting."

"But Haru-"

"Am I your boss or is Haruka?"

"I understand, Mr. Ichinomiya."

If Haruka was here, she would have taken Yumi out for lunch and treated her to something good. With her only lunch buddy not around, Yumi looked at her phone with a sigh. After seeing what a relationship could be like, she really did not want to call him out but having lunch by herself seemed a little pathetic.

Kenta was not a bad man. He was not the perfect man, he was average. They met back in university where Yumi studied Mass Communications while Kenta was in Computer Science. Yumi found him adorable during the group speed dating event she was forced to join. He was awkward and he talked about a lot of things that Yumi did not understand. But he was the only guy who did not try to lay a hand on her and offered to walk her home because it was late (he paid for her taxi instead when Yumi refused). Two weeks later, they started dating.

Nothing was wrong with their relationship at all, Yumi was happy with it. But if there was something she had to complain about, it was the fact that Kenta was not romantic. Every Valentine's was the same. Every birthday was the same. Everyday was the same. It was as if they skipped right past the honeymoon period that one was supposed to have and became an old couple.

"What do you want to eat?" Kenta asked, walking by her side.

"Whatever, I suppose." We'll just end up eating ramen anyway, Yumi thought.

"How about ramen? I know a place around here."

Letting out a sigh, Yumi turned to look at Kenta when she spotted Haruka across the street. "Haruka-san?" Pushing Kenta to the side for a clearer view, Yumi frowned when she saw a man next to Haruka. He was tall and good looking. Really good looking. She did not recognise his face from Haruka's file which meant he was not a business associate of Eisuke's. Was he a friend of hers?

Although she wanted to follow after, the restaurant they went into was too high end for Yumi to afford. After lunch with Kenta, Yumi went back to the hotel alone. All the way back, she was bumping into people and streetlights, too deep in her thoughts to even apologise. Could it be that she was wrong about Haruka and Eisuke? There was no denying their chemistry but was it possible that she read too much into it? She was pulled back to reality when someone tapped her on the shoulder.

"Miss Miyazawa?" Kenzaki greeted her with a smile before presenting her with a bouquet. "Could you please pass this onto Miss Matsuoka? This came just a moment ago but I don't think I'd get to see her today to give it to her."

"Yeah, sure," Yumi nodded, taking the bouquet.

Heading up to the penthouse, Yumi was curious to know who would send such a big bouquet to Haruka. It was no surprise that a woman like Haruka had admirers; this was not the first time Yumi received flowers on her behalf after all. But it was always roses before. Roses of different colours but roses nonetheless. It was as if men knew no other flowers but the rose itself. Even so, Yumi was a little jealous. Kenta would only get her a single rose for Valentine's.

This bouquet, however, was very different.

Whoever it was sent Haruka pure white peonies. With her mother being a florist, Yumi grew up learning the meaning of flowers. She spent way too many of her summers arranging bouquets to know when a boyfriend wanted to apologise to a girlfriend for something stupid they did. White, however, was not the colour most people would go for, especially not for an apology. It mostly meant humility but it could also stand for regret.

"Oh my, our Yumi-chan is popular. And here I am, thinking that I could have a chance with you."

Taking the liberty of arranging the flowers in a vase for Haruka, Yumi was deep in thoughts when she was interrupted. Baba came into the pantry, twirling his hat on his finger. Haruka had warned her about the other residents in the penthouse on her first day and Yumi assured her that she would be able to handle them. Baba left the strongest impression of them all, mainly because he introduced himself rather flamboyantly and ended their first meeting with a kiss on the hand. She had seen how Baba would flirt with Haruka too, and how she would evade his advances effortlessly. That was the attitude Yumi decided to adopt too.

"It's for Haruka-san," Yumi explained.

"Ah...well, Haruka has always been popular," Baba smiled, walking up to Yumi to take a better look at the arrangement. "Oh? It's peony?"

"Is that strange?"

"Hm...not so much," Baba shrugged. "But it looks like the Boss might have a rival."

If she was being honest, Yumi was surprised. She thought the other men were just as dense as her boss was when it came to the relationship between Haruka and Eisuke. They always acted nonchalant to the very obvious chemistry and tension between the two.

When he caught Yumi's eyes, Baba chuckled. "Did you think we wouldn't know?" he hummed, leaning in to sniff the flowers as he looked to Yumi. "I think Haruka and the Boss are the only two people in the world who doesn't know," he grinned. "Although they are both smart people, they can be quite dense in this department." Yumi would have to agree with Baba; they were dense.

"Ah...it's just so frustrating watching them."

"Who knows? I think it's fun," Baba smiled.

#pdr ch7 #kissed by the baddest bidder #kbtbb #kings of paradise #kop #eisuke ichinomiya #yosuke sagara #voltage inc

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arcaneapologist · 6 years

Text

Partners in Crime- Ch 7

The Gang goes out for Halloween! Also there's conflict! And new characters that I'll probably forget the names of. I hope y'all like this chapter. it's been my favorite to write so far. (link to ao3)

Chapter 7: Monster Mash!

Halloween night, Dan was folding himself into the impossibly small back seat of Arin’s car. “I’m the tallest one here. Why am I in the back seat?”

“Stuff it, Sex//bang. I’ve known Arin the longest so I get the front seat.” Suzy glared at him in the rear view mirror.

“I think that method of determining shotgun is bullshit, but here we are.” Holly feigned a whisper, but knew Suzy could hear her.

“Well Arin hasn’t said anything against it, so the rule stands.”

Dan leaned forward, “Arin this is your car. Shouldn’t you decide who gets to sit up front.”

“Uh. Yeah” Arin shifted in his seat. “For now it’s… Morte//mer. For the love of God. Can Danny just know you’re name? This is ridiculous.”

Suzy sighed, “I guess… He isn't even bothered by not knowing so it isn’t even that fun. My name is Suzy.”

“Great. Thank you.” Dan muttered turned his attention back to Arin. “You alright, Ar? You seem tense.”

“Yeah. Fine.” He snapped. “Just… Please sit back.”

Dan did as he was told while Suzy snickered. He gave Holly a look asking if he had missed something, but she just smirked. They parked the car outside the bar and Dan was the first one out, relieved he could stretch his legs. Holly, Suzy, and Arin all slowly climbed out behind him, though Arin took significantly longer. However, when he walked around the car, Dan suddenly understood why.

He was wearing Sonic dress . It was tight and short, but Dan had to admit Arin looked fantastic. His staring as making Arin more nervous, as he couldn’t quite decipher the look on his face. Dan looked kind of impressed and kind of confused, but was staying silent. Arin could feel Suzy and Holly holding their breath. He’d debated for a long time whether or not to get this costume, and just said fuck it in the end. After another awkward few seconds of silence, Arin walked towards the bar.

Dan’s face broke into a huge grin. “Wow. You look great, Ar. We’re definitely going to win this costume contest.”

“Yeah? You think so?”

“Of course. Between you and my rockin bod, there’s no way we couldn’t… And then, you know, Suzy and Holly.”

Their costumes did look good. Suzy had on a Knuckles dress cut exactly like Arin’s, while Holly had gone far beyond and made her own dress. She even went as far as dying her hair pink. Dan, however, had to throw his costume together last minute. It was a pair of yellow jeans and a matching shirt he’d found at Goodwill, and a set of tails and fox ears Holly had made for him.

The bar was a fairly small place, decorated with all the cheap Halloween decorations you’d find at a dollar store. Suzy and Holly immediately set out to go get drinks while Arin looked for a booth along the wall. Dan decided to go with him, not particularly interested in drinking tonight. After a minute of searching, Arin crammed himself into a booth and pulled Danny in beside him. He kept a tight grip on Dan’s arm even after they’d sat down.

“You don’t like crowds.” Dan had to raise his voice to be heard, but tried not to yell. “That’s okay. I don’t want to drink so you and I can hang out here.”

“It just takes me a little bit to relax, you know?” Arin released his death hold on Dan’s arm.

“I understand, dude.” Dan nodded his head along to the music.

There was a lot of people here, almost all of them in costume. Some of them were dancing along to the live music but most were ignoring it entirely to yell conversations at each other instead. Dan remembered when he was still trying to make it as a musician, how awful it felt to be ignored like that. He’d tried to remind himself time and time again that he was playing in a bar and some people just wanted to drink. Jesus could have been singing and they wouldn’t have cared. Despite how awful it had been at times, Dan did miss performing. He looked at the stage wistfully and sighed. Maybe one day he’d be able to again.

Holly and Suzy collapsed into the seat across from him. Suzy shot him and Arin a look, “What happened while we were getting drinks? Arin, you look like you’re gonna barf.” She nodded towards Dan, “And you look like your dog just died.”

“Dan is just getting emotional because he misses being in a band and performing.” Arin replied, glossing over his own issues.

“How did-” Dan started. “You know what? Never mind. He’s right. I miss the shit out of it.”

“Oh. Go ask if you could sing. I’m sure they’d let you.” Holly smiled at him. “This band is here almost every night. I know they wouldn’t mind.”

Dan looked at her skeptically, “Are you sure? That seems kind of rude.”

“Dan,” She leaned closer to him across the table. “Trust me. At some point tonight they will probably invite people to come and sing.”

“Okay… Okay. Maybe later.” Dan leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. The thought was so tempting, but he was nervous. He hadn’t sung in front of a crowd in two or three years now.

As if, yet again, reading his mind, Arin encouraged him. “Come on. You’re Danny Sexb//ang! You’re supposed to exude confidence! Go for it!”

Holly, Suzy, and Arin all started chanting ‘Sexb//ang!’ Dan threw his hands in the air. “Fuck it. Alright, fine! But you assholes are standing up front by the stage.”

He was met with a round of cheers, and climbed out of the booth. As the four made their way to the stage Danny’s hands started shaking. He was going to sound awful. He hadn’t really sung in years, he hadn’t warmed up his voice at all, and he had no idea what he was going to sing. They were all waiting by the stage as the band finished up their song. Dan ran his hands through his hair for what was probably the fifth time in two minutes. Despite his nerves, he turned to check on Arin, figuring the crowd around him was probably stressing him out even more.

He didn’t look as bad as he had earlier, as if Dan had absorbed all of his nerves. Arin put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, then pushed him towards the stage. The band had finished the song and their guitarist was walking towards them. He and Dan exchanged a few words before he helped pull him up onto the stage. He gave a nervous glance back to his friends, and they cheered in response. They moved over so they were centered in front of the stage. Dan glanced around the room. A few more people were paying attention now that there was a lineup change.

“Hey guys.” Dan hated the way his voice was shaking. “I’m Danny and uh. We’re gonna play Take On Me.”

Arin, Suzy, and Holly made sure to scream extra loud before the music started up. Dan seemed stiff and nervous and wouldn’t look anywhere other than the three of them. They started dancing, hoping other people would too, and in turn would give Dan more courage. By the time he hit the first verse about half the people in the bar had turned their attention towards him, and he began to relax. By the end of the song, Danny was jumping around and dancing on the stage, and was met with a lots of cheering. Their singer came up and whispered in something in his ear, causing Dan to smile and nod enthusiastically.

He stepped back up to the mic, “So this next song is about fucking. Enjoy.”

They were playing You Spin me Right Round and Dan started jumping around and dancing again, but much more sexually A few girls shrieked as he tangled his hands in his hair and thrust his hips. Dan spent far more time looking at people other than them this time. Everyone cheered twice as loud, and Arin couldn't take his eyes off him. It was clear as day just how much he loved being on stage and performing. When the song finished he stood, beaming for a few seconds as the entire bar erupted into cheers. Suzy, Holly, and Arin shoved their way to the side of the stage to congratulate him.

Dan ran down the steps, still breathless, and practically jumped into Arin’s arms. He picked him up and spun him around before setting him back on his feet. “You were amazing! That was so great!”

Dan turned a deep red, “Yeah? You think so?”

Holly and Suzy hugged him next, Suzy exclaiming, “Oh my god yes! Did you hear those girls in the back going nuts?”

“Dan, that was incredible. You rocked the house even in a Tails costume.” Holly laughed.

“Aww. Thanks you guys.” Dan smiled and laughed. “I’m going to go get a drink and I’ll meet you back at the table.”

As Dan pushed his way through the crowd, people stopped him to compliment his performance. This, he thought, This is what I’ve missed. He missed the rush of being on stage, and the sense of accomplishment after. At the bar he got a water for himself and Arin, and drinks for Suzy and Holly. As he made his way back to the table he felt like someone was watching him. Of course people are watching you, dumbass. You just got done singing in front of all of them.

Dan set down everyone’s drinks and joined their rather heated debate over fig newtons. Arin was a huge fan, it seemed, but Suzy and Holly were not. Dan laughed as Arin yelled about how great the cookies were and how Suzy and Holly were horribly wrong. Yet again, he was found himself surprised at how comfortable it felt. How in just a few short months Arin and Suzy and Holly had pulled him into their lives. It had been so long since he felt like people actually wanted him around.

Dan glanced around the bar, still listening to Suzy and Arin bicker. The costume contest was starting soon and he was trying to size up the competition. That’s when he saw her. He felt his heart drop into his stomach.

“Arin.” He was too absorbed with Suzy to hear him. Dan grabbed his arm, “Arin I need you to switch spots in this booth with me. Now. ”

None of them had ever heard Dan sound so alarmed, so Arin immediately started moving. The second he was standing Dan dived back into the booth and yanked Arin back down. “You wanna tell us what that was all about?”

No, no, no. Don’t come over here. “My… My um, ex is here... Apparently. And I think-” Dan peered around Arin again, she was definitely walking towards him. He hid himself behind Arin. “Ah Fuck. She’s coming over here.”

Suzy, Holly, and Arin all exchanged glances. They knew this level of paranoia far too well. Whoever this girl was, she’d been some kind of awful to Dan. Suzy casually asked, “Danny, what does she look like? Is she the girl walking over here in the Sexy Unicorn costume?”

He nodded and shrunk even more behind Arin. He turned, angling his body towards the wall and leaned his elbow on the table, “What did she do?”

“She broke my fucking heart, Arin? Why else would I act like this?” Dan tried not to snap at him but the memories of their last few months together were trying to resurface. Not only had she broken up with him, but even months before then she’d made sure he knew how worthless he was. Every time he’d come home from band practices, or vocal lessons she’d remind him how utterly stupid his dream was. How he’d never amount to anything.

Arin squeezed Dan’s hand under the table, “Yeah. Alright. We've got you.”

Suddenly a low feminine voice called out, “Oh my god! Danny is that you?”

He took a deep breath and Arin leaned back so he could speak to her, “Yeah! How have you been, Riley?”

She would have to look fucking stunning tonight. Riley tossed her long blond hair over her shoulder, “I’m amazing! I see you’re still pursuing a music career, despite the overwhelming statistics of failure. Not to mention, the odds of you becoming a drug addict or an alcoholic.” She narrowed her eyes at how close he was sitting to Arin. “Not sure what the correlation is between being a failing musician and becoming gay, however.”

“Riley, why did you come over here?” Dan sounded exhausted. He was also worried because he could feel Arin getting tense next to him.

“Am I not allowed to check up on an old friend? I’m concerned. Last time I saw you, you were living out of your car and-” She glared at Suzy, who interrupted her.

“I’m gonna stop you right there. You’re not concerned.” Suzy stood up, she was shorter than Riley, but far more intimidating. “You just came over here to make Dan feel like shit. I’m not going to let that happen.”

“I’m sorry. Who are you?” She glared at Suzy before looking at Arin and Holly. “Who are any of you to him?”

“We’re his best friends, and you can fuck off now.” Suzy looked in awe at Holly, she’d never heard her sound so mean.

“Correction, we’re his fucking family. The rest of Holly’s statement stands however.” Arin gave Dan's hand a squeeze as he said this.

Riley stood there for another second, glaring at all of them, before turning on her heel and leaving. Suzy waited until she was out of sight before sitting down again. She reached across the table to grab Dan’s hand. “Are you okay? Do you wanna go?”

“I’m okay. I’ll be fine. We still have to win this costume contest.” Dan knew his voice was shaking. “Thanks, you guys, for defending me.”

“I meant it Dan. We’re family... We’ve got our two gay moms and their dorky, reject sons.” Arin laughed as he added the last part.

“You’re stuck with us whether you like it or not, Dan” Holly took a sip of her drink while Suzy put her arm around her and kissed her cheek.

“By the way, love, when did you become so aggressive? I like it”

“I was not aggressive! I was simply defending our dorky, reject son.” Everybody dissolved into laughter again, Riley now completely gone from their minds. The rest of the night went by without much excitement. They didn’t win the costume contest, and headed out shortly after. Everyone, Dan especially was exhausted, so they all crashed at Arin’s place.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Who the fuck is this guy and why are they all so viciously defending him?

It was purely coincidence that they’d all ended up at the same place. Clara had finally finished the nine months of therapy and rehab and wanted to go out to celebrate. She’d tried to call her friends, but it seemed they all changed their numbers. She couldn’t believe they would just abandon her after the accident, but they had. She never blamed him for it. He never tried to hurt her, he’d never tried to leave her before, either. Yet here she was, watching him defend someone else like he should be defending her.

Clara couldn’t understand the fascination. His new… Whatever he was. He was not that cute, did not seem overly intelligent, his voice was terrible. So why had he been so quickly loved by the three of them? She kept an eye on them from her corner of the bar, rolling her eyes frequently. Arin was so obvious with his puppy dog staring. He used to look at her like that at one point. What did this guy, Danny, have that she didn’t? The girl that they’d been talking to was walking past Samantha when she got her attention.

“Hey! I’m sorry but did you know those people up there? They seemed awfully rude to you, darling.” Whether she was overly trusting or just liked to talk shit, Clara didn’t know. Either way, Riley took the seat across from her.

“Kind of. I know the little bitch who was hiding behind his bear of a boyfriend. The rest I have no fucking clue.” Riley examined the ends of her hair.

“Great. He’s the only one I don’t know anything about. What can you tell me? Family, does he drive, does he live here in Salem?” Clara pulled out her phone, trying to seem casual.

“We dated for like. Three years. His family doesn’t talk to him anymore.” Riley shrugged, thinking. “He lives alone on the other side of town and always shops at the grocery store two blocks down the street. He’s far too trusting and very naive… Anything else you wanna know?”

“What’s his name?” This was, really, the only thing Clara cared about. She could find information about him on her own.

“Dan Avi//dan. First name is actually Leigh though.” Riley stood up. “Don’t waste your time on him. He’s a musician with no hope for a career.”

Clara wasn’t worried about him at all. She had far bigger things to deal with.

#is this conflict gonna lead to something dramatic?#who know?#really tho i love this chapter #partners in crime fic #my writing #polygrumps #shipgrumps #egobang #commanderflap

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calleo-bricriu · 6 years

Note

I'm not meaning to be rude here so please don't take it that way. I'm genuinely curious what it is with you and most of the people you hang out with being way, way older than you is?

There isn’t a short answer to this or a way to sum it up in a few words so, you get a nice, long, rambling answer.

Lucky you.

But, to sum it up: Stability.

To elaborate:

The thing about working with the Dark Arts is that it requires there be some level of control present to avoid going completely off the rails.

Whether that control is internal or external doesn’t particularly matter but, if it’s mostly external, as soon as whatever force that is is gone, you’re going to probably crash and burn spectacularly.

The other thing about the Dark Arts is that the older you get, the less likely you are to be killed by it. That’s not to say sanity remains the longer the exposure, many times it doesn’t, but that’s another matter entirely.

For a long time, I simply didn’t function well without some pretty rigid structure; when I was at school there was the combination of school being school and my parents being parents that kept me pretty well in line, even while I was being taught quite a lot to do with the Dark Arts at home.

Adyna, for all of her horrible qualities, did fill the role of structure after I was out of school and not living at home. She did it terribly and in the worst way, but it was still rigid structure that didn’t allow for me to drift or nosedive, in a manner of speaking.

After I got away from her, there wasn’t any structure, at least, not a consistent structure to keep me in line and I wasn’t capable of keeping myself in line (not that I’d have ever admitted that at the time). I knew, to some degree, that I didn’t do well on my own in regards to keeping myself from going off the rails, though I didn’t fully understand why.

The why, if you’re curious, is that’s just what happens to most people if they keep themselves immersed in the Dark Arts and try to do so outside of having someone who is relatively stable as well as significantly powerful enough and willing enough to force them to stay in line. Very few people can self regulate at the beginning and most will self destruct in one way or another if there isn’t someone or something else keeping them in line.That’s also why so many people who practice it die before they’re 40.

On my mother’s side, there were and are numerous people capable of that but, at the time, the lot of them were rather insistent on pushing me in directions that I absolutely did not want to go, so I distanced myself from them (which was easy, considering the vast majority live in Denmark and I live in Scotland) and lost any structure they might have been able to provide.

After everything with Adyna, I was also more than a little opposed to even feeling like I was being put on lockdown, so the people I chose to associate with were older and also at a level that I was confident I could fight back against if they did try to do that. A few did, and I was able to get away by managing to overpower them most likely by luck.

I didn’t like to subject the few friends I had to me in that state as I knew I wasn’t necessarily stable and most of them had a whole host of their own issues that didn’t need me adding to the pile. @braxfordthebeater took the brunt of putting up with me during that time and did so rather well but, he was always pretty good at not being a negative feedback loop and talking me down even if he couldn’t stop me from doing stupid and/or dangerous things.

So people who were significantly older and more skilled were literal structure and stability and little else. I wasn’t terribly fond of the majority of them as they were–as many people who practice the Dark Arts are–rather unpleasant people overall.A few weren’t but most were.

All of them were, however, able to yank the leash and force me back in line when I started to drift though.

Since I’m pretty sure what you really want to ask is about @absintheabsence specifically , that actually does tie in here, albeit a bit differently.

There are two distinct ways something can go when you get two people who are scraping the bottom of the barrel, so to speak.

It can either form a mutually destructive feedback loop or it can go–not necessarily positively but at least, “I won’t actively sabotage you if you won’t actively sabotage me.”

And it was very self serving from both sides. I won’t presume to know 100% his thoughts on the matter but I’d be very surprised if the vast, vast majority of it wasn’t, “If this one dies, I’m back in solitary,” which likely was enough of a reason to show some restraint.

From my perspective it very much was a, “This has got to be the biggest stroke of sheer, dumb luck I’ve ever had and probably ever will have again so I need to not be a complete human disaster about it,” thing.

So, it was one of those mostly positive feedback loops because we both had good, albeit selfish, reasons to make it one.

However, between his mind being a fractured mess from decades of having no positive human contact, a probably crushing level of guilt and regret, and being subjected to a screaming disaster of magic that prevented him both from using magic or even being able to drown it out and my mind being held together by probably nothing more than metaphoric Sellotape, I had to learn how to self-regulate myself (and learn to do it quickly) because even though the overall power was there on his end, the stability wasn’t and if I’d tried to lean on it, in a manner of speaking, it all likely would have fallen like a house of cards and I’d have ended up dead.

The more I was able to stabilise myself, the more I was able to contribute to his restabilisation, and the more stable he became, the more he was able to not so much force me back in line but just kind of nudge me back in line.

It’s a feedback loop but, it’s a mutually beneficial one.

That said, there have definitely been times when it has been a, “Listen or I will make you listen,” situation because I still have moments of drifting and not always being able to realise what’s happening before it gets to the point that I can’t pull myself back in line.

And, for the record, he’s more than capable of follow through on that “making me listen” part. I don’t like it, and I absolutely do fight it because I have an amazing opposition reflex, even though I know I won’t win in the end.

It happens less now and I fight it less now (and don’t typically need to be threatened anymore either), primarily because, well, the longer you practice the Dark Arts, the better you get at self regulating, especially if there’s a stabilising force making sure of it.

Oh, and, in the event that you’re curious, there’s nothing short of straight up death that’s going to pry me loose from this and even then, I’ll probably argue with it.

#long post #hp rp #v: shelved like an old book and forgotten #hp indie rp #asks #answered #Anonymous #stability #relationships

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justauthoring · 7 years

Text

It Wasn’t Real (part one)

Summary: You’re part of the infamous Loser’s Club, and often asked, what are you afraid of? You reply, nothing, but what your friends don’t know is that your biggest fear is them.

prologue - one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight - nine - ten - eleven - finale

A/N: So literally i was overwhelmed by the amount of love and support I got for this story. Once again THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH! I’m actually so excited to start this series and I have so many ideas bubbling around in my head, so please enjoy.

There’s something’s i need to make clear before we get started. The rest of the story (except for the first part) will happen four years after the events in IT Chapter One. I know that sounds weird but it will get better I promise! This is also sort of an AU mainly because IT will come back sooner than twenty-seven years, which doesn’t happen in the book. So it’s like based off the original story but isn’t at the same time?? It will all make sense! And there will be an Character x Reader ending, but i’ve closed down the poll as of now until we get further into the story! Right now, Richie is leading!

Anyways… I hope you all enjoy this story! Oh! And Henry hasn’t die in my story, as well as his father. Everything else is the same.

I hope you all enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Send me a little comment in the ask section or leave it below on what you thought of this chapter. It doesn’t have to be long, I appreciate every single comment I receive and telling me just helps inspire me to write it more frequently.

Pairing: Loser’s Club x Reader, slight Henry x Reader (you’ll see)

Warnings: force, bullying, depressing and sad tones.

Tag’s List: @chalatea wanna be featured? message me letting me know!

It wasn’t real.

It seemed that maybe it was. When time passes, friends tend to forget each other. It was an unsaid thing. No friendships last forever, no matter hard you tried to make them. But something in you had always told you that when it came to the Loser’s Club that wasn’t true.

You’d been wrong.

Separated from those you called your family, everyone started drifting apart. Some of them still talked, like Eddie and Richie or Bill and Beverly, but in the end, no one really was as close as they use to.

It was almost as if they’d forgotten, stopped believing in what you all experienced. And you couldn’t understand why. Because while everyone was off moving on, forgetting, you only seemed to remember. You tried. Tried and fought and screamed and yelled for them, but it was like you were standing in the back, watching as their back turns. Watching Richie look away, watching Eddie follow or Bill turn and Beverly distance herself. You saw less and less of Mike, Ben never left the library and Stan… Stan wouldn’t even look at you.

Soon it was just you, just like IT had teased, and you were alone.

So, no, Bill, it was real.

Three Years Later…

You let out a breath of relief as the school bell rung, signalling the end of class. English class today in particular had been boring and repetitive, some idiot decided to back talk the teacher so the majority of the class was spent with Ms. Green lecturing you all. It would’ve been fine, had that not meant that your pile of homework had grown significantly larger in size.

Gathering your binder and books, you quickly stuffed them into your bag. Though when you looked up, you noticed that most of the students were already out and sighed. It meant the hallways were going to be cramped with people, and it was the end of the day.

Knowing it was inevitable either way, you slipped your backpack over your shoulders calmly and pulled the straps. “Have a nice weekend, Ms. Green.” You waved at your teacher. She may have just spent an hour yelling at you all and then the last half talking about what you had to catch up on, but she was nice when she wanted to be.

“You as well, Y/N.” She shortly replied, not sparring you a glance. You hesitated a moment, watching the way her eyes didn’t even move to say goodbye before sighing and making her way out the door. The hallway wasn’t as bad as you expected, which was a breath of relief. Quickly, you made your way down the hall, turned a right and low and behold there stood your locker.

Putting in the combination, you begin organizing what you’d need over the weekend and what you wouldn’t. Though, your moment of peace was quickly interrupted when the door of your locker was slammed to the side. You jumped, letting out a bewildered shock and turned to see who had so rudely disturbed you only to find a face you hadn’t wanted to see.

“Hey, babe.” Henry greeted, smiling down at you. Henry Bowers, the same Henry Bowers who use to bully you and your friends back in middle school. Of course, Henry confessed he doesn’t ever remember doing such a thing. I’d remember a pretty face like yours…

Refusing the urge to shiver, you sent a short smile at him; “Jesus, Henry. You nearly gave me a heart attack.” He only shrugged, as if he didn’t care. Smiling through the discomfort, you grabbed your locker door, moving it off of the next one and Henry wasted no time leaning against it.

Henry Bowers had been sent back two years, making him in the exact same grade as you, of course he was eighteen already. Though, that didn’t mean he acted any more mature.

“So, you coming with us to the pit tonight?” Henry asked, looking lazily over at you. Setting your final textbook in your locker, you shut the door with a soft thud; “us?”

“Belch and me.” He clarified. You hated Belch, all he did was well… belch. And it disgusted you, but it seemed no matter what him and Henry stayed friends. At least some things were the same. “Oh, and I believe Amy will be joining us.”

“Oh,” you mumbled. “I don’t think I wi-”

“Why not?” Henry interrupted, cutting whatever you’d been about to say off.

You shifted uncomfortably, taking a tentative step back when Henry straightened out. You should probably just go, Henry would back off if you did. But you really did not want to spend the night in some dingy corner of the town with belching Belch and bitchy Amy. “My mom… she wants me home tonight.”

“Your mom?” Henry laughed, as if that was the craziest thing you’d ever said. Leaning down, he didn’t ask when he grabbed your wrist; “your mom never wants you home. Come on, it’ll be fun.” Fun for you, you wanted to say, but knew better. Knowing nothing you could say would allow you to stay home, you let Henry drag you off into the direction of the school doors.

You zoned out whatever he’d been saying, loosing yourself in your mind. At least it was the weekend, you told yourself, after tonight you wouldn’t have to speak to anyone, let alone see anyone. Of course, two days only lasted so long… Weekends use to be filled with adventure back in middle school… of course you were a child then and so was everyone else… but, it had been an adventure.

“Agh…”

Turning your head, you were pulled from your thoughts as a familiar head walked by. You could almost swear… Time seemed to freeze, as the person’s head floated before you, but then suddenly it was gone. Looking down, you heard the thud as their body smacked against the ground.

“Watch where you’re going, freak.” Henry laughed, shoving his hand into Belch’s stomach in excitement. You hadn’t even noticed Belch join you…

Looking over at the body, you didn’t move as they slowly moved to their hands and knees. You of course, felt bad, put no part of you wanted to help them. You only stared with a lazy eye, your wrist still in Henry’s grasp. It was only when their head turned up to glare at your boyfriend did you feel an reaction flood through you.

“Eddie…” You whispered, gaining a strange reaction from Henry and Belch. Seeing their gaze, you moved to look away before your eye caught Eddie’s. There laid Eddie, the same Eddie you used to constantly worry over and mother, on his knees, blood pooling from his chin where he’d smacked it against the ground.

His eye met you, but you didn’t do anything.

Soon he groaned in pain, Henry had kicked him. Henry leaned forward, towering over the boy; “stay down.” And before you knew it, the grasp on your wrist tugged and you were off.

You gripped your jacket sleeves with force, watching as your breath formed before you in the cool evening air. You hated walking home alone, especially at night. It was when you saw things, things that shouldn’t be there but were. But of course, Henry hadn’t wanted to walk you home, so that left only one other option.

You laughed out into the bitter air, when did Henry ever wanna walk you home?

It’d caused many fights before, back when you first started dating. You didn’t want to stay out that later (or go out at all) but of course Henry wanted to, so you did. You’d stay out all night, doing whatever dumb thing him and his friends could think off until the sun had set and you could no longer see past you clearly. You’d beg him to walk you home, but he’d only shove you away and continue hanging with his friends.

Though, you guessed the moment of peace gave you time to think. Think about whatever. It never really was the same.

You let your eyes wander above you, to the night sky, viewing the many stars as you walked the streets of your neighbourhood. You were close, thankfully. It was January, meaning a new year and christmas had just passed. That also meant many houses still had there christmas lights up, too lazy to take them down and you could view the bright colourful lights in peace.

It wasn’t often you saw so much colour in your life nowadays.

Your feet made a crunching noise as you stepped into the snow, a sound you loved very much. There was nothing but colourful lights, empty streets and mindful thoughts.

“Y/N…”

You could see your house now, just before you and that gave you motivation to quicken your step.

“Y/N.” Gasping, you turned around at the voice. You weren’t sure what you’d expected, but you had expected something. Instead, all you found was nothing. Just the street you’d already walked on a million times and the darkened houses except for the bright christmas lights. Shaking your head, you turned back around. You must’ve been imagining it.

“Y/N.” Okay, that time you hadn’t. You were sure of it.

“Henry?” You called, turning around once again. “Henry is that you?” Of course, nothing. People didn’t really like to reply to you much these days. “Henry, I-I swear to god if this is a prank…” There was nothing there, but you were so sure you’d heard a voice.

“Y/N.” You spun, the voice now much closer behind you. Except when you turned around, there wasn’t anything there.

“Time to play.” You spun again, back around and for a moment you saw what you never thought you’d see again. IT. IT. It’s red fire-y hair and sinister smile. But the next time you blinked, it was gone. “Time to play, Y/N.” You instinctively took a step back as maniacal laughter filled your ears.

Bolting around, you took quick and loud steps to your house, not daring to peer back behind you. You scrambled for your keys, fumbling to get them out of your back but the minute you did, you unlocked your door and swung it open. You wasted no time slamming it behind you, falling to the ground before it as you let out a shaky breaths.

Holding your hand against your chest, you tried to even your breathing. You were never afraid, at least you hadn’t been. Your friends made you stronger and now where were they?

Panting, you let out a little whimper. The second you closed your eyes, IT appeared and you wasted no time in opening your eyes again. Taking a look around your dark and vacant house, you were pulled away from the events that had happened outside and back into reality. “Mom?” You called, “you home?”

You wandered into the kitchen, finding nothing. No note, nothing. She obviously wasn’t home, but it’d be nice if she could at least let you know. Sighing, you dropped your bag on the dining table, taking a seat on one of the chairs. You let your head lean on your hand, staring at the darkened room around you.

“What happened…?”

Part 2?

Let me know what you thought! I hope you all enjoyed!

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terraclae · 7 years

Text

The King of Paramo

Lore pings: @yuushanoah-fr @cityofinoue

A sort of short one! All dragons are in their bipedal form as usual.

He threaded the hallways of the ship far too carefully. Arodan had accidentally scared a few already by walking up to them silently. Right now he was only quiet because he didn’t intend to wake the sleeping people in a boat that creaked at all opportunities. In the semi dark he couldn’t see a lot outside of the glowing charm that hung from his wrist and he let Mimir soothe his other worries, the book open in his hands.

What is it you’re so afraid of?

‘I thought it was obvious.’ Arodan whispered, holding Mimir close enough so he could keep his voice to an impossibly low volume. ‘It’s dark. I’m on yet another boat. Yet another shade ridden figure who my or may not be a nut job.’

And that is really what is making you so frightful?

He paused. If he didn’t know any better Mimir had started to get far too good at guessing what he felt. ‘I’m the one who has to fix this. I chose this.’

You could have said no.

‘I didn’t want to.’ He arrived by the door to his cabin. He knew he had left his keys in some deep pocket of the coat Atlas had left for him but he couldn’t find it. ‘I’m part of these people.’

Mimir didn’t respond. This was fine with Arodan, it allowed him to close them and search his pockets better. Hopefully he wouldn’t get a response until he had freshened himself up properly. Right now his head wasn’t in the right place.

‘You’re not going mad, are you?’

He was as jumpy as he was tired and before Arodan spoke he had already jumped into a defensive stance and pulled a dagger from his coat. His entire being shook like the boat was going to give out under him. Before him wasn’t an enemy he had thought to see, but instead, shrouded by the shadows, he saw the hulking form of Balam. It occurred to him he must look positively insane now. ‘... Sir?’

Balam blinked a few times, bright blue eyes flitting in the dark. He had never seen Balam this hesitant, it was obvious despite the cover of the dark. ‘Is this a bad time?’

‘No.’ Arodan quickly pocketed the dagger and in doing so found his keys. ‘I’d appreciate it however if you wouldn’t sneak up on me, my liege.’ He mustered a polite smile to greet Balam more openly. ‘How do you even do that?’

Balam didn’t answer. By the way the light reflected on his horns Arodan knew he was shaking his head and his smile fell. He was taken aback more once Balam moved out into the light and revealed a beaten form that didn’t radiate the cheerful calm that was inherent to Balam. ‘My liege, huh?’ He tilted his head and then bowed it so his eyes disappeared into the dark. ‘... Would you mind if I came in?’

‘Into- Into my room?’

‘... Yes?’

Well, it wasn’t weird of Balam to ask to come in. Arodan didn’t know however how he was going to offer any words of comfort to Balam that wouldn’t make the situation worse. Silence could be equally bad. Slowly he pulled his keys from his pocket and unlocked the door, stepping in first. He gestured for Balam to come in, wordlessly.

Balam didn’t quite fit through the cabin door. His horns dented part of the frame and Arodan had to stop himself from taking Balam’s arm and pulling him through already. Somehow the massive man forced himself through and stood bent with his head against the ceiling of the room. Before Arodan could stop himself this time, he asked ‘Why don’t you just shift to a smaller form?’

Balam closed the door with his tail and sat on the floor, not meeting Arodan’s gaze. He didn’t look annoyed or surprised, Instead his brow was furrowed in a way it seemed to compact his eyes. ‘I’m not very good at it. This is as small as I can shift.’ He quietly started. ‘Is it an issue?’

‘No. Not at all.’ Arodan repeated. He chose to plop down on his bed and felt a quiet tight uncertainty rising in his throat. His thumb found his journal’s spine to rub, his other hand the bedsheet, and his eyes surveyed Balam. ‘Sir…’ Balam seemed to have been treated for a wound on his lower stomach he tentatively soothed with his hand. Mentally he looked to be more weathered. Arodan took particular note of his tired eyes. The skin around one was bruised blue as blended with his dark eyebags. He sat in the corner like a broken man, and Arodan didn’t have to ask if Balam felt okay.

‘Arodan, how do you feel about all of this?’

He perked up. Balam looked at him directly and Arodan couldn’t feel smaller than he already did. ‘I’m… It’s difficult for all of us. I wish I could have done more.’ The bedsheet was uncomfortably coarse against his fingers and the tight feeling in his throat grew only heavier. ‘I wish things didn’t go this way.’

‘I see.’ Balam hummed. Arodan grew only more nervous and he really didn’t know what he could possibly say to Balam now.

‘Sir-‘

‘Please just call me Balam.’ Balam interrupted Arodan with a voice that wavered and hitched as he spoke. His eye met Arodan’s and he managed to crack a smile. ‘I’m no king of yours.’ His gaze drifted to the side and he had a glazed look to his eyes. ‘I’m no king of anyone, so, we are true equals now. Isn’t it great?’

Arodan gave pause and he came to fidget with his journal instead. ‘Okay, Balam.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Why did you want to come into my room?’

Balam didn’t respond initially. He first occupied himself with braiding his hair that had grown significantly longer in such a short span of time. When he did it was with a sullen resignation. ‘I didn’t want to be alone, I suppose.’ He huffed lightly. ‘Couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, so I didn’t know what else to do but stay in the company of someone.’ Lightly Arodan could see a healing wound on Balam’s arm. ‘So I found you, it seems.’

‘Balam-‘ Arodan got up and took the scarred arm. The wound wasn’t old and its angle didn’t look like the cleave of another’s sword. He knew that feeling too well to be comfortable with. ‘If you need to speak your mind then do so. It’s not magically going to get better if you sit in the corner of my room for the rest of this voyage.’

‘I know.’ Balam grunted. He bowed his head again and looked humbled by Arodan’s presence. ‘I failed them Arodan.’

‘This isn’t your-‘

‘It is my fault.’ Balam said. He looked at Arodan with hazy eyes and still was a great deal bigger than him sitting down. ‘That is the one thing that is truth.’ He shook his head once more. ‘What troubles me is that I have no idea how to fix this. I want to, I was responsible for these people. I made them lose everything.’

‘Okay, yes, maybe it was your fault. You were their king.’ Arodan said, regretting how rude it might sound. Balam nodded along to his statement. ‘But then again, what is wallowing going to solve? Are you giving up?’

‘Maybe.’ Balam whispered. His eyes fluttered shut. ‘What army do I have? I can’t go in and fight Alexander’s forces again. For my people I would trade my life but he has my city and I cannot risk their lives in that battle.’

‘Then we sneak in.’ Arodan said, jumping up.

‘They’d expect that.’

‘We could try.’

‘Then who do you want to sacrifice?’ Balam asked. He sounded more grim than anything now. ‘Caer is a scout. Carmen is still healing. Epoch is... dead. None of us are in a right mind to undertake such a thing.’ He shifted and it was the first time Arodan ever heard a floor creak in Balam’s presence. ‘I am not sending you either, you’d most certainly die. None of these people deserve to die.’

‘I know that too.’ Arodan held up his hands in defense. ‘But-‘

‘I said, I don’t know how to solve this, Arodan.’ Balam said with a raised voice that threatened to echo to the other cabins. He looked regretful of an outburst that had only been minuscule. ‘Please don’t make me put the lives of more people on the line.’

That ended the conversation momentarily. Arodan’s hands took to gently brushing over the skin on Balam’s arm and the king didn’t meet his eye the entire time he did. When he dared to speak it was still in hushed tone, a soft apologetic sentence. ‘Forgive me for asking this… But did you ever want to be king?’

‘So many have asked me. More must have spoken of it behind my back.’ Balam started. He looked as if he didn’t know how to answer this question. ‘I have always wanted to lead these people, but I wasn’t ready for it when I got the position. I wanted to be king but in the end I didn’t make a very good one.’ He blinked slowly. 'Love can't save a city when you're it's king.'

‘You didn’t stop being king because your city was taken over. Where I’m from we call that exile, and we can fix exile.' Arodan snapped. He shook Balam and found it was as difficult as he thought it would be to move Balam even slightly. 'Then start here. Take responsibility.'

'That, I know too.' Balam repeated himself in similar manner to Arodan. He nodded along to his statement like he had taken it to heart but his brain had yet to lead the action. 'I want to.'

'What's stopping you then?'

'Failure.'

Balam was right in doubting himself considering the last mistake he made cost him the life of someone dear to him and an entire city he cared for. Now Arodan thought of it, why didn't it bother him more? Shouldn't he be feeling more over the loss of the city? He sat down next to Balam with a quiet sigh and officially didn't know what else to tell him. The man was perhaps too stubborn.

'Arodan?'

Balam suddenly speaking to him caused him to near jump, luckily not a full on vertical leap. 'Yes?'

'I'm aware I must be very tiresome, and that I do things that upset people.' Balam started, shifting so he sat against Arodan. 'You cannot help me now, so give me time. I can't do what is asked of me now but I will soon. That I promise.'

'Well, it's an improvement.' Arodan would take a promise. That was enough. 'Why are you telling me this?'

'Because I trust you like the others. I would have told them too if they were in your position, but here you are.' Balam reached and pat Arodan's head with a fond gaze. 'You've come out of a tough spot too. We are similar, so we should look after each other. That is what I want.'

Arodan understood. He didn't nod, or say anything, but sat there and let Balam rest his hand on his head for a bit. When Balam pulled his hand back they opted to sit in silence, the only thing breaking their little balance being that Arodan offered Balam a book and took one for his own. They sat and read and he thought of how nice it would have been if he had gotten the opportunity to do so in the library. Maybe, if they reclaimed Paramo they could all sit and read. Carmen, Atlas, Caer, Langdon, Balam, they were his friends, that was truth, and he was comfortable with wishful thinking for once despite the current situation and the damage done. Balam had apparently trusted him enough to fall asleep reading the novel he had given him.

'Balam?' He gently bumped his shoulder and like with moving him Balam wasn't going to wake up either. How far exactly was he gone? 'Balam, you can't...' he shook him, then ceased the movement.

Why not.

Arodan picked up Mimir again and took to leaving the cabin. In the dim light of his charm he chose to sit in the hallway. Mimir had already written a few things when he opened them again but his focus stuck on a particular phrase.

What do you think of me going by feminine pronouns?

'You can if that's what resonates with you.' Arodan whispered to Mimir. His free hand searched a quill since speaking to a book had made him look odd earlier. 'How so?'

I was thinking of miss Solaire. I hope she's alright.

'Probably. She's a spirit, if we're lucky she's eating some Lux Laterna soldiers for us.' Arodan whispered. He found a quill but no ink regretfully and he really wasn't sure if he should continue whispering to Mimir. 'You wanna be like her?'

It would be really nice to walk in a form like yours.

Well, as long as she didn't possess him to do so Arodan was okay with that thought. 'I wouldn't know how to get you one like that but it is a fun thought.' He held Mimir close to him. 'I'll look into it.'

That'd mean the world to me.

'It's no problem.'

Thank you for being my friend, Arodan.

That made him just a bit tearful. He knew that. The confirmation just was nice, the kind of warm hug he wanted or the kind word. This was nice.

'What… What are you doing?'

That was not an as nice thing to hear. He peered into the dark and he could see Sachairi standing on just a distance from him. 'Oh, you.' As soon as the words slipped from Arodan's lips he found himself mentally bracing for whatever might come and he thought he should really ask himself why he just kept saying whatever came to mind. 'I mean- I didn't...'

Wait.

Arodan peered more closely now and he could see Sachairi was staring at him with a look he hadn't yet seen on him. He was pretty sure it was a self loathing disappointment completely with a light head tilt. 'Are… Are you okay?'

'No, I just...' It had been only the blink of an eye and Sachairi had returned to being the intimidating figure he had been in the crypt. 'It is none of your goddamn business.' Almost, that was. Something wasn't as confident in his stance.

'... Right.' Arodan scanned over the other man with obvious doubt. 'What are you looking for? Why are you up?'

'That too isn't for you to know.' Sachairi stepped towards him. 'I need to talk to you.'

'You mentioned that yeah.' Arodan gave as a flat response. 'Are you going to be polite to me or not?'

'Yeah, listen bucko, I'll be nice if I want to.' His eyes darted off to the side and he pointed at Arodan with a shaking, smoking hand. 'I need your help.'

'Sachairi?'

Balam poked his head out of Arodan's cabin. He looked half asleep still but alert enough to register what was being discussed. He didn't look particularly happy to see Sachairi. 'What are you doing out of bed? Go to sleep son.'

'I wasn't really feeling it.' Sachairi shrank under Balam's scrutinizing gaze and started to step away. The smoke that lined his arms and shoulders faded and his voice shifted. 'It's not as if I have to sleep.'

'Yes you do, stop being stubborn.' Balam sternly said. He wormed his way through the door yet again and nearly took the door out of its hinges. 'You aren't well. Rest.'

'I'm perfectly fine, stop telling me what I am.' Sachairi responded, turning on his heel and disappearing into the darkness. Arodan had expected him to follow up with something but nothing came. He could swear he heard a pained whimper out of the distance as if someone had maybe pushed him but that was the least of his worries.

'That was… Very weird.' Arodan whispered, his gaze sliding up to Balam.

'It is like I'm dealing with a teenager.' Balam said. The statement sounded way too humorous to Arodan to take seriously. The following caught his attention far more effectively. '.... I swear it's as if someone else is wearing his face. When he looks monstrous he is more himself than like this.'

'I meant to ask, what did Atlas discuss with you about this?' Arodan walked over to Balam's side so they stood in the shared light of the charm. 'I know this is a highly personal affair but I have to step in.'

'He told me what was necessary.' Balam said painfully. He closed his eyes and looked more tired than before. 'I know I'm not going to stop you, and if a stranger is the way to figure out if he has become a threat, then I will take it.'

'That was the plan.' Arodan hummed. 'And he wants to talk to me, so that gives me an opportunity. I don't know why, but I'll figure it out.'

'I see.' Balam opened his eyes and took to eyeing Arodan suspiciously. Arodan knew what he was thinking just by how Kassa looked at him on the bunker's roof and he decided to not pay it any attention. 'I wish you good luck, Arodan.' Balam started to saunter away, off into the pitch black of the hallway. 'Do not lose sight of yourself.'

'I will, si- Balam.' Arodan responded. He waited until Balam truly was out of sight and then chose to retreat into his cabin again. He was quite done with all the heavy situations for today and as soon as his face hit the (to him) impossibly soft pillow he fell into a deep dreamless sleep. As long as nothing worried him in his dreams then he would be fine for the night.

#my lore #ch: Arodan #ch: Balam #ch: Mimir #ch: Sachairi #fr #flight rising #I wanted them to talk a little since Balam cares for Dan and stuff

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buckybabybaby · 7 years

Text

Everything Backwards (Chapter 4/12)

Summary: When you make-out with a ‘James’ on a night out, you don’t expect to see him again, so imagine your surprise the next day when it turns out he’ll be your new sort-off-flat-mate. As Nanny for Peggy & Steve’s three children, you’ve lucked out, but now the guy across the corridor is threatening to ruin it.

This is the story of how it all works out.

Chapter 4 summary: Two week in, things go a little wrong…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader (Gender Neutral) Slow Burn

Word count: 2003

Warnings: Bucky’s a bit awful, but only because Y/N is! Mention of illness?? People being rude to each other.

Previous: Chapter 3

Everything Backwards Masterlist

Masterlist

With the horrendous aftermath of the last time you drank very fresh in your mind, you decide that this time when you meet your friends a late lunch is probably safer than anything involving alcohol. Yesterday was the last day of term for the children so their parent have taken them out to the cinema as a treat, giving you a free afternoon to do as you please with, and when you leave the house the sun is shining brightly.

Today marks two weeks since you first met Bucky. Things have improved a little since that short exchange of words in the car after swimming; you two haven’t actually talked yet, mainly because he stays in his room most of the time, but he doesn’t look at you with so much contempt any more, and there was that incidence earlier in the week when he held the door for you as you struggled with shopping bags.

A small start but one nonetheless.

You sincerely hope that over the coming months you’ll get to the point where you can hold a proper conversation with him. Sometimes, during a mundane task like hoovering or hanging the washing on the line, you wonder what would have happened if you hadn’t kissed that night, and how much easier it’d be if you knew him only as Bucky and not James.

Dwelling on things that can’t be changed isn’t healthy but you can’t stop yourself. That is why you need to see your friends, to get your mind off him and spend a couple of hours with people your own age who actually want to speak to you.

“Sarah, she’s the oldest, and is so intelligent it’s a little intimidating, but it’s not a surprise considering both her parents are professors at a top university.” You are aware you sound like a proud parent when talking about the children to Wanda and Natasha, but they seem to understand. “And the two little boys are an absolute delight.”

“So no runaways at bath time?”

“Thankfully not! And do you remember the family with the child that refused to take off the batman costume? These three are practically the opposite, I’m so relieved.”

Natasha grins. “And the room is better in this place? No rattly pipes or leaky windows?”

“Honestly, it’s a palace in comparison.” You shudder thinking back to that house. “Anyway, now I really need to tell you something I thought best to leave a secret but if I keep it to myself any longer I think I may explode.”

They both sit up straight at that, expectant.

“Okay, so there’s another room opposite mine which was an office but now one of Steve’s, Mr Rogers’, friends is staying there. He, the friend, he’s…”

You stop, unsure how to explain, but it doesn’t take long for Natasha to half work it out.

“Is he hot? Single? Is he nice? Would it be awkward if you dated or amazing because he lives right across-” Wanda shuts her up by stuffing the rest of her cake into her mouth before turning to you.

“Basically all of that but with room to breathe.”

This is going to be the worst part of the conversation and you decide to get it over with as quickly as possible.

“It doesn’t matter what he’s like, it matters who he is. He’s Bucky.”

You’re met with twin looks of confusion and a joint answer.

“Who the hell is Bucky?”

“Oh right, of course. Bucky’s a sort of nickname, but you know him as James, as in James from the club, James who I kissed-”

Half the café turns to look at your corner booth as Wanda and Natasha scream at you. You shush them and attempt to hide behind your hair, giggling when they only quiet down slightly, looking half enthralled and half horrified.

Wanda recovers first.“Is that as awkward as I imagine?”

“More than you can imagine, let me assure you.”

You spend the next half hour filling them in. They react appropriately at all the right moments, both being outraged when you repeat what he said the first afternoon and sounding just as conflicted as you when you describe how sweet he is with the children.

“You really should have told us straight away.” Natasha laments you as she reaches for her coat and bag at the end of the meal. Wanda agrees.

“I’m sorry,” you whine, “but I really didn’t know what to say. Am I supposed to just text; 'hey, guess what, that guy who made out with me on Saturday night and then left without saying au revoir is now my sort of flatmate’?” You cringe as you say it, realising just how bad it sounds.

“Yes! That is exactly what you should have said. We could have helped!” Wanda replies.

You sigh. “Unless you have a time machine and can stop me from ever entering that club, there’s not much you can do. And anyway, it was much funnier to see your reaction in person! Even if we may never be able to come here again.”

You place another coin to the tip on the table in compensation for making so much noise.

“Well now we know, I want minute to minute updates on anything else that happens between you and him, no excuses.” Natasha leaves no room for protest so you agree as you hug her and Wanda goodbye, assuring them you’ll keep them in the loop.

It feels like a weight has been lifted as you stroll home. If nothing else, your friends knowing about your situation means at least next time Bucky passes your room flushed after working out, you’ll have someone to vent your frustration to.

It’s raining on Sunday. Tipping it down, actually, and you watch out your window as the water splashes off the sodden deck and shakes the hydrangeas in the border. You were supposed to go to the park with your friends today but the weather had other plans, along with the cold you’ve come down with. Michael had been ill this week, but insisted on still going to school so he didn’t miss the end-of-term fun, and the slight tickling in your throat from yesterday seems to have morphed into a full-on cold.

Sitting up in bed, you reach for your lemon drink and sigh when you realise you’re all out. On your way back from refilling your mug you glance at the bath bomb sitting on your desk and decide that a hot bath might make you feel better, but the sight that greets you as you enter the bathroom nearly makes you cry.

Clothes everywhere. They’re scattered all over, right across the floor and even the closed toilet lid, the red Henley in the centre of the chaos making it clear who’s responsible, but really, who else would it be? You can’t even get to the sink without treading on something and that makes you snap. When you’re ill your ability to deal with annoyances decreases significantly, and before you know it you’re storming back up the hall and bursting into Bucky’s room.

You’ve never been in here before and you spend a few moments taking it in. What little there is to take in, that is. The walls are bare, the bed, whilst made neatly, is plain with just one blanket, and the only personal item you can see is a teddy sitting on a bookshelf in the corner. Shaking yourself mentally you turn to face Bucky. He’s sat at the desk that was originally in the room, pencil hovering over the page of what you assume is a journal as he stares at you questioningly.

You realise you must look quite strange so you get straight to the point. “Move your stuff from the bathroom.”

“Huh?”

“Your things all over the floor meaning I can’t even enter that room. I mean is it so hard to just pick it up when you leave? And what where you even doing in there? There’s at least three whole outfits in that mess! I get that we have to share and there’s going to be some compromises but this isn’t acceptable.”

You’re breathing heavily when you finish your rant and Bucky doesn’t look impressed.

“I’ll move it, no need to be such a bitch.”

“I’m not being a bitch! You need to know I make a special effort to keep that room tidy. I’m always sure I don’t leave so much as a tube of toothpaste out of the cupboard so it’s easier to keep everything separate and in order. The least you could do is not leave it looking like a suitcase exploded in there.”

You follow him along the corridor, haranguing him the whole way. His body language is warning you from continuing but you’re on a roll.

“This is laziness, pure and simple, and I’m not going to put up with it. What exactly is it you do all day that means you don’t have time to clean up after yourself? I’m aware you don’t go to work anywhere so there’s really no excuse.”

You knew Bucky didn’t work but you hadn’t asked anyone why, trying to mind your own business, so you regret your words immediately. He rises in front of you, arms full of clothes and face stormy, and you have to force yourself not to take a step back. His expression changes slightly as he appears to deflate, his glare disappearing, instead looking you up and down with a smirk.

“Clearly, somebody needs to get laid.”

You gasp as your face heats up. “Excuse me?”

“I said, you need to get laid. Maybe you wouldn’t be so uptight and irrational if you did.”

“I’m not irrational! I just find you infuriating!” You sound slightly hysterical but you can’t help it, not when your whole body hurts and your fantasy that you and Bucky were starting to get along is shattering before your eyes.

You’re close to tears and his next sentence sets you off.

“Right now, feelings completely mutual.”

Sweeping past you he disappears back into his room. You cover your mouth with your sleeve as you sob, attempting to muffle the noise as tears roll down your face. Seconds later you remove your hand, not being able to breathe, and the small room is filled with the sound of your loud, gasping cries. As you slide to the floor you manage to close and lock the door behind you.

Your tears aren’t slowing down, if anything they’re getting worse as you think over everything that just went on and wonder why you always do this to yourself. You didn’t mean what you said. It’s only because you’re ill. In your line of work you can’t afford to be unwell so when you are it’s incredibly stressful, and you tend to lose your temper at the tiniest things, like you just had. You bury your head in your knees as you continue to cry, absolutely miserable.

Ten minutes later when you’ve stopped sobbing you rise from the ground and wash your face, wondering if it’s safe to leave yet as you’re no longer in the mood for a bath. Pressing your ear to the door you don’t hear anything so you quietly open it and tip toe to your room, frowning at the music from Bucky’s side of the passageway.

You’ve never heard anything from his room, let alone the thudding beat currently seeping through his door frame and it makes you feel even worse. Wavering outside, you decide to apologise tomorrow when the dust has settled slightly, and when you hope you won’t feel so awful, either mentally or physically. You try to convince yourself you’re not putting it off because you’re a coward but it doesn’t work.

Crawling into bed and grabbing the book off your bedside table, you sit back against the cushions and allow the rain and the words to lull you into a more peaceful state.

Chapter 5

A/n: I was going to split this into it’s two scenes and post them separately, but I though I should just get this over with. I promise after this Bucky will get a lot, lot nicer…

Tagging: @tieddown-withbattleshipchains @i-had-a-life-once @attorneyl @superwholockian5ever @scamandaaaamn @bohemianrhapsodaisychains @the-renaissance @davros2004

If I’ve forgotten you, or you want to be tagged/untagged, just ask!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes au #bucky fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky au #buckybabybaby #everything backwards

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cluelessnamelessao3 · 3 years

Text

But It’s Not Funny

8. I’m Trying

“I, like, distinctly remember telling you not to text at three in the fucking morning,” your irritation was more for show, but also because, you certainly didn’t want to encourage this annoying habit.

You were, of course, referring to his multiple late-night texts that hadn’t happened just last night, but (once you’d bothered to check) several nights in a row. And honestly, you just were not about that life—meaning, you were going to fight someone, even the rather large and somewhat imposing Sans, if it meant you’d be able to sleep through the night without another three-in-the-fucking-morning text.

“You said I could,” he responded simply, an impish smile on his face.

You sputtered for a moment, your eyebrows furrowed in both confusion and indignation, “What!? No, I did not!”

“Nah, yeah, ya did, kid, you said, and I quote,” he paused, raising his voice an octave to try and mimic yours, “‘Don’t text me at three in the morning—or do’ and so obviously, that means do, so I did.”

You snorted, throwing your hands up with exasperation, “I vaguely remember an exchange like that, b-but, like, what the hell man?”

He quirked an eyebrow.

“Who texts someone at three in the morning for no, like, real reason? I mean, like, if you’re dying or some shit, then yeah, I get it, but like, you ain’t dead,” you tried to soften your tone with a smile, but nothing could really hide the exasperated lilt in your words.

Something dark flickered across his expression, so fast you couldn’t quite put a name to the emotion. He scoffed, a smirk on his face and his eyes half-lidded, the bright whites of the pupils shrinking in size slightly as he stared you down.

“Let me remind you that I am… a literal skeleton.”

With a snort, you took a sip of your hot chocolate, the heat of the cup warming your cold hands, trying to ignore the intensity of his gaze.

“A very much alive skeleton, Sans.”

This little meeting was rather nice, though, there was something strange about sitting in this specific little coffee shop with this particular skeleton.

The way he casually rolled his eyes at you and made some unnecessary joke—another damned bone pun—seemed so weirdly foreign and familiar. Part of you felt—more like knew something was missing and you wanted to know what it is and part of you wondered why you felt like this had happened before.

But it hadn’t, obviously, it hadn’t happened—that was impossible! You’d only known him for… a little less than a month… And there had never been time for the two of you to grow close before this.

In not so many words, this little lunch ‘date’ felt more comfortable than it should.

It was so nostalgic sitting here with him though—it felt like a dream, it felt like a nightmare, it felt like a forbidden wish coming true; a wish you hadn’t even known you’d made.

Above all, none of it really made sense.

He lifted his steaming coffee to his non-existent lips and took a quick drink; his eyes closed softly as he enjoyed the taste. It was�� something else… to see a skeleton—no, he’s not a real skeleton, you reminded yourself—be so expressive. He sure did look like one, from the hollow space where his nose should be, to the empty eye sockets, to the way his phalanges—his fingers—moved around as he gestured and talked animatedly.

Honestly, it was equal parts intriguing and unsettling.

A kid—not a kid, he was probably around his late twenties, older than you were—came by the table just as Sans finished his drink.

The guy, some nondescript, awkward being, with a face full of unfortunate acne, sneered at the two of you while muttering something that sounded suspiciously like “dirty monster fucker.”

Your face flamed with embarrassment and rage as you gave an icy glare at the idiotic stranger, “At least I can get it, unlike you.”

The guy huffed, his face contorted with anger and disgust before he sauntered off, throwing a quick, “Skele-fucker” over his shoulder, a smug smile on his face, pleased with what he probably considered a golden insult. You just rolled your eyes at Sans, hoping that the monster wasn’t too offended by the stranger’s rudeness.

But the look you saw on his face was something you weren’t expecting.

It… almost looked like… adoration. Pure. Unadulterated. Adoration.

And it was aimed at you.

“Wh-what…?” You rasped, taken aback.

The sound of your voice seemed to be enough to knock him to his senses as he shook his head slightly before turning to glare in the direction the stranger had stalked off in. Faintly—almost imperceptible—you could see the smallest bit of blue burning on his cheeks. It looked like he was blushing, but you were at a loss for what could have possibly elicited such a reaction.

He didn’t say much about the little scene that had been caused, instead choosing to brush over the topic with a short one-liner (“What a bonehead”).

The two of you talked about a variety of topics afterward, each one of minor importance, but still interesting and engaging all the same.

All too soon, it came time to head back to the groomer’s shop. You almost felt a little disappointed, and altogether unprepared to leave San’s charming company—because damn if he wasn’t a charismatic person, what with his groan-worthy puns, sharp wit and ridiculous—no, wait, ribiculous amount of knowledge about anything related to physics and or most sciences in general.

You found that you quite liked talking to him. And when he offered to meet again (“Same place, same time tomorrow, smalls?) you felt a flutter of anticipation and excitement.

It seemed like every day your previously non-existent social life significantly improved.

You guys met the next day and both of you ordered the same thing—he even offered to pay, which you quickly turned down, but not without giving many thank you’s and no thank you’s. And the two of you settled down in the booth you’d taken last time and discussed the moon landing (which you’d researched quite a bit last night just for this occasion). He told you about Waterfall with the beautiful glimmering rocks and shinning, bioluminescent rivers.

As your lunch break came to a close once more, he asked again to meet and you readily agreed.

The third time you let him buy your drink and the two of you talked about Luna and why you had her.

“So, I thought animals couldn’t come into stores?”

You had nodded, already preparing yourself to answer the too-personal questions people asked once they realized you had a service dog, “Yeah, typically that’s how it goes, but Luna isn’t, like, a pet-pet. She’s… different.”

“Oh?” He’d asked, seeming both interested and indifferent. How he could manage to be so nonchalant about everything you’d never know.

“Mhm, she is a working dog… meaning she helps me with tasks… and keeps me functioning…” You'd launched into your explanation and the more you’d talked about your dog the easier it was—especially considering how attentive and polite he’d been.

He only asked a few more questions: ‘how’d you get her?’, ‘did she go through a lot of training?’, ‘can any dog be a service dog?’, etc, before he seemed satisfied.

Never once had he asked, ‘what’s wrong with you?’ or judged you.

The fourth coffee-date (you were officially calling them dates—hell, even Frisk had teased you about them) you were running late. Actually, you weren’t so much running late as you were just stuck. Literally, stuck. In a tree.

A rather tall tree, in your defence.

But still, definitely stuck in a tree.

How had you gotten here? Ah, well, you’d just been trying to play the ‘good Samaritan’ act when it’d backfired on you.

“Miss? My cat is stuck in this tree and I am not quite so young and sprightly as I used to be, so would you mind climbing up there to grab her?” An elderly woman asked, her voice quavering slightly with worry.

You nodded, flashing your brightest smile, “Certainly, ma’am, a little ol’ tree like this will be no problem for someone like me! I’ll be up there in a jiffy!”

“Oh thank you, darling! I would have been at such a loss without your fearless bravery”—

Okay so maybe that was exaggerated, but you hadn’t been unwilling to help—just a little wary of climbing the tree.

"My cat is stuck. Could you please go get her?"

You frowned, giving the tree a once over, "Can't you... like... ask someone else?"

The older lady shook her head, voice quivering with age, "No, dear, everyone else has turned me down... and Ms. Muffet needs her afternoon snack... I can't leave my baby here by herself!"

A sigh left your lips as you once again looked the tree up and down, "I... uh, I think I can do this."

The issue was that once you’d climbed the tree, the cat had leapt gracefully down, giving you what you considered a rather saucy glare. And what was worse, the old lady hadn’t even thanked you, but instead was focused solely on the little she-devil of a cat that was now meticulously cleaning her fur.

And if the thanklessness of the situation wasn’t bad enough, you couldn’t get down from the tree.

The branch you’d crawled out onto was thick, and you were laying across it, your legs wrapped around with ankles locked to prevent yourself from falling. You were, you had to admit sheepishly, too scared to move from your position, plus you no longer had the drive of wanting to save a ‘helpless’ animal to motivate you to move.

You fished your phone out of your back pocket, your arm wrapped around the branch in a vice grip. Cautiously, carefully, somewhat nervously, you sent Sans a quick ‘S.O.S.’ and prayed that he would respond sooner rather than later.

And luck was on your side, for you received a reply not even a minute later, just a short ‘where?’

He showed up in five minutes, with the biggest grin you’d ever seen on his face—and really now, considering his mouth was always stretched wide in a Cheshire cat-esque smile, it was almost impressive.

Except, when he saw you hanging on to the branch with a death grip, he started to laugh.

And this was no laughing matter.

“Well, this is a surprise, whatcha up to, kid?”

You frowned, your tone turning sarcastic, “Oh, you know, just hanging around…”

“I tree what you mean, but I’m not quite sure I beleaf you. You don’t look like you need me to stick around,” his hands were shoved in his pockets and despite his cool tone you could see his shoulder shake with laughter.

This was not an ideal situation.

“Okay, fuck boy, this is not what I had you come here for.”

His eyes flashed with mischief, “Oh? So, what did you want me here for?”

You sighed, “Come on, captain obvious, I think you’re smart enough to figure it out.”

“Well, you look like you’re in quite the predicament… That someone as small and weak as you managed to climb up in the first place is an achievement in itself… No wonder you managed to get yourself stuck,” he laughed, shrugging his shoulders in an ‘oh well’ kind of way.

You could feel the blood rush to your face as your cheeks burned with embarrassment, “I am not stuck. I’m just… taking a break because I got tired climbing up.”

He quirked a brow bone up and smirked. You mimicked the expression.

“So, you’re sure you’re not stuck?”

“No! I am not stuck in this tree! God, I’m not that dumb…”

He turned around, waving as he made to leave, and you felt your gut drop with a sudden wave of panic.

“Sans! Wait!”

He glanced back at you over his shoulder, eyes twinkling with mirth. You weren’t sure your face could feel any hotter. Actually, you weren’t sure you’d ever felt so embarrassed for such a simple thing.

“…I’m not stuck…” He took another step away, the bright pupils of his eyes watching you the entire time, “BUT,” you emphasized, “It’d be… cool if you could… help me down…” your voice got smaller with each word as you tried not to drown in the humiliation you felt.

It wasn’t a big deal. None of this was a big deal—and it wasn’t a shameful thing to ask for help on such a simple task…

Except it was a big deal! Because it was your fault you were in this situation and it was your own stupidity that led you to being unable to escape.

“What was that?” He asked, clearly enjoying your misery.

“Can… you help…” you sighed, the words rushed out in a jumbled mess, “canyouhelpmedown?”

He cocked his head to the side, now facing you, “Hmmm?”

“Can you help me down?”

He hummed, as though in deep though, “I don’t know, what’s the magic word?”

“I’ll fight you.”

He blinked, seemingly shocked, uttering a simple, “Fair enough,” before breaking into loud and contagious laughter—you even managed a weak giggle despite yourself.

Sans moved forward, standing beneath you, his arms outstretched. The fabric of his t-shirt rode up the slightest bit and you could see the tops of his hip bones—huh, you thought wonderingly, he really is skeletal… You shifted slightly on the tree, still maintaining that terrified, white knuckled grip on the limb.

“Do I have to jump…?” You asked, your voice sounding smaller than you intended. It wasn’t a far jump, but it still gave you anxiety.

He only nodded, his characteristic smirk softening into a reassuring smile, “I’ll catch you, no matter what.”

Those words stirred something in you and you… you who had so much trouble trusting others, you who had been lied to, hurt, and slandered in the past, you wanted nothing more than for his arms to catch you and embrace you with their warmth.

This was not normal, but neither were you and nor was he.

How could something so simple end up so profound?

You let yourself fall from the branch, sliding to the side awkwardly, and as promised, he caught you. You felt feather-light wrapped up in his arms. He laughed, and after a pause you joined him.

“That was ridiculous.”

He agreed, snorting.

“Thank you,” you said, avoiding his gaze.

He shrugged, that light blue flush on his cheek bones once more.

“S’no skin off my back.”

You groaned at the pun but smiled all the same. The light banter that ensued between the two of you continued the entire walk to the café and again later on your way back to the groomer’s shop.

“Same time tomorrow?” He asked.

“Same time tomorrow.”

#binf #but it's not funny #binf undertale #sans undertale #chapter 8 #chapter 8 but it's not funny #undertale #undertale fanfiction #sans/reader #sans/female reader

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