#worst part is i found him with no flawless

[bvidzsoo]

Grease and Oil

⨳Mechanic!Mingi⨳

TW: cursing, smut wrap it before you tap it

Word count: 5,6k

A/N: I don't think I'll ever let go of bleached spikey haired Mingi. It changed something in me, I'll never be the same. I have nothing to say except...why did I even write this? Song Mingi stop haunting me, thank you. It's not the best, but the best I can write lol. Feedback is very much appreciated!

            The smell of grease, oil, and gasoline weren’t something unfamiliar to me, nor were they nauseating. It was something I was used to. These were familiar scents; scents which I have started associating with home. Cars, too, were something I associated with a feeling of familiarity, of something dear to me. Walking inside my father’s car service was like a second home, a place I knew like the back of my hand. I wasn’t huge on fixing cars, but I knew a few things here and there. Despite my father’s attempts at making me a great mechanic one day, I struggled to understand the in-depth parts and mechanism of a car, therefore I settled on appreciating their beauty. Can’t say my father was too happy about it, but his concerns faded away when I found a path for myself. I applied to a college, choosing to study literature as I struggled finding anything else I liked. Perhaps creative writing was a subjected I happened to enjoy too, but I had no idea where my degree would take me one day. I had no intentions of teaching English literature, the children these days were awful and very disrespectful. My short temper would’ve surely gotten the worst of me if placed in a situation where I had to deal with rude kids. And so, I settled on reading my books and pouring my feelings out into short poems when I wasn’t at college. Or by wasting my time away at my father’s car service. It’s not like I had anything better to do—I actually did, but procrastination is my best friend. Besides, most of his employees are above the age of thirty-five, and two of them I have known since I was a little girl, they could be really fun to hang around…and it’s not like I would often stop by because my father has an employee who is barely a few years older than myself. And it’s definitely not because he is the hottest man alive I have ever seen. He’s a tall and lean guy, his posture immaculate with his shoulders always pulled back, his long legs worth envying and shoulders so broad you could hide behind them and nobody would see you. In the summer, he usually wears tight tank tops, showing off his humble muscles, biceps finer than most guy’s of his age. And his pants, which are fireproof, cling onto his body, showing off his narrow waist. This guy was a sight for sore eyes and I couldn’t blame the few ladies who would occasionally stop by, completely taken aback by this guy’s visuals. It wasn’t fair that he had a perfect body, especially when his face was good-looking too. God sometimes had favorites and Song Mingi definitely was one of them with his long nose, sharp eyes and cherry red lips, a singular mole underneath his left eye decorating his flawless skin. His personality also made him desirable and that just made him a dangerously charming and handsome human being. Perhaps my frequent visits to the service during the summer were sort of his merit too, not just the want to spend some quality time with my father as he spent little time at home. I knew he was busy; I couldn’t blame him. His service was one of the best in our little town and money didn’t just magically appear, you had to work hard for it and that’s what he did, he worked his ass off all the time. The fact that he has employed Song Mingi was just the cherry on top, the little motivation I needed to perhaps learn more about cars.

I was settled on top of my father’s working desk, tools pushed to the side, feet dangling as I watched him work on a car’s engine, getting more and more furious by the second as he couldn’t find one missing screw. I watched quietly as his phone rang again, making him sigh loudly before he straightened himself up and took the call, eyebrows furrowed. It was a hot summer day, the AC did little to nothing inside the hot service, and the use of different electrical tools only created more heat inside the spacious room. I had started fanning myself, overhearing my father make an appointment as an obnoxiously loud engine whirled past the entrance to the service, making my heart skip an excited beat. It was lunch break, and Mingi had just returned from eating his meal. He was gone by the time I had arrived; I was rather lazy this morning and thus didn’t bother getting out of bed before 12 pm. My father turned towards me as he finished his call, looking rather irritated. It wasn’t directed at me; however, I still knew a lecturing would follow because I sat on his tool desk…again.

“Get off, Y/N, I asked you so many times not to sit there,” He sighed tiredly as he headed for the exit, “I have to examine a car, are you coming to the front?”

Certainly not before I have seen Mingi, “I’ll wash my hands first, they feel slimy, meet you at the reception, dad.”

He nodded once and hurried outside, phone already ringing once again. Summer seasons were always busy, work pilling up quickly. I started fanning myself with my hands as another heatwave hit me, making me sigh. Not even a tank top and shorts were enough to stop me from sweating buckets. I pushed my hair behind my shoulders and gripped the table, about to jump off it, when the man I stayed behind for finally showed up. He walked through the open garage door, having to duck as it wasn’t raised enough for his towering height. He had his back to me as he walked inside, carrying two boxes, muscles of his arms bulging as a few guys greeted him, instructing him where to place the boxes. However, nothing could’ve prepared me for the wave of shook which rooted me to my spot. My mouth hung open as my eyes remained trained on Mingi, and I could only hope nobody noticed my shameless gaping. Three days ago, when I have stopped by last, the man’s hair reached his shoulders almost and was a faded light brown. Now, his hair was completely bleached blonde and stood up in all places, spikey. A hairstyle definitely shouldn’t have made my tummy do flips, yet I had nothing to swallow as I watched Mingi laugh with a fellow mechanic, explaining something to him animatedly. His black tank top was tucked inside his beige pants, a black belt holding it against his hips securely. A black bandana was tied to his left bicep and I licked my lips as my eyes ran over his frame, stopping for a second too long on his ass. Perhaps crawling onto the wall sounded like the most normal thing to do right now. Just as I was about to look away, the man he was talking to briefly glanced at me and Mingi suddenly turned his head, eyes falling on me. Looking away right now would mean admitting that I had been staring at him, so I forced myself to smile nonchalantly at him and blame the flush on my cheeks on the extremely hot weather—which combined with Mingi’s presence only made my body heat up even more. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but I’d do anything to get railed by Mingi while he wore his working clothes with grease smeared on his cheek. My heart skipped a beat as a lazy smirk appeared on his lips as he took off towards me, making me gulp in panic as I straightened my posture.

“Hello, princess.” He called once he was close enough and I rolled my eyes at the nickname, acting as if I totally hated it. It did bother me at the beginning when he started calling me that, but I didn’t mind anymore. And it certainly shouldn’t have made me blush.

“Hi, Mingi.” I greeted him back, smiling as I crossed my legs and leaned forward, holding myself up by my hands. My knuckles hurt from the grip I had on the table, but I ignored that.

“What brings you here today?” He asked nonchalantly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. I didn’t want to look, but his biceps were bulging and I’m just a simple woman, “Thought you washed your car when you stopped by last time.”

Ah, yes, the good old excuse of washing my car when it didn’t need washing yet. To be fair, I had a cleaning problem so that was the main reason why I washed my car so often, Mingi being here was just another thing to motivate me to stop by more frequently.

“I did, I’m not here for that.” I admitted, clearing my throat as Mingi’s sharp eyes narrowed slightly, mischievous glint appearing in his eyes. He hummed shortly, the sound deep in his throat, reminding me how hot I found his raspy and deep voice. He had once whispered in my ear as he snuck up on me, wanting to scare me, and I swear to God, I almost reached Heaven that day.

“Are you here for me then?” The cute pout of his lips and the finger he pushed against his cheek definitely didn’t match the sultriness of his words and the look in his eyes. It made me take a deep breath as I forced myself to roll my eyes, embarrassed that he had a feeling I was only here to see him. I mean…I did wear my favorite off-shoulder top just because I knew we would see each other.

“Why the sudden change of hairstyle?” I decided to change the subject, but it only made Mingi smirk as he looked at me almost victorious, almost as if he knew I didn’t answer him because he was right. Mingi ruffled his already spikey hair with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Just wanted something new,” He answered, “besides, it’s so hot these days, my long locks only made me sweat more. I feel like a new man right now. What do you think, do I look nice?”

Nice was little said, I would’ve described him more like: hot, sexy, attractive, gorgeous, mouth-watering, “Yeah, you look nice. It suits you.”

Mingi smiled happily and bowed lightly before his phone beeped. I didn’t understand how a man like him could be so cute while looking like a Greek God. My eyebrows slightly furrowed as I watched Mingi chuckle and smile down at his phone, quickly typing something on it. Perhaps he was seeing someone? Of course, why would a man like him be single? It shouldn’t come as a surprise; I should have thought about that sooner. But then again, he never mentioned a significant other. With a sigh, I jumped off the table and dusted off my shorts, running my hands through my hair. Mingi paused, looking up at me through his long lashes. I forced a smile on my face, suddenly discouraged by my own thoughts, as I grabbed my phone off the table.

“Got to go, dad’s waiting for me.” I mumbled as Mingi’s eyes slightly narrowed, eyes swiftly running over my body. He nodded wordlessly and I turned around, taking off towards the exit.

“That top looks really nice on you.” My steps halted for a second as I looked back at him and chuckled before exiting the garage, walking towards the reception, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach at the simple compliment. I should probably download a dating app and find someone available to obsess over.

            The blaring music and blinding disco lights in the living room were becoming too much as my tipsy head swirled around like a disco ball, throat parched up and dry from the lack of water. Certainly the amount of alcohol I have had was enough for the night as I pushed people out of my way, slightly wobbling as I headed for the kitchen, desperately needing water. A super rich guy from college threw a huge ass party and invited some guys over from our college, one of them being one of my close friends. I wasn’t one to turn down a good party, and when the alcohol was free, I would certainly attend it. Seonghwa and I had teamed up and played beer-pong together, kicking Wooyoung and San’s asses, but losing to Hongjoong and Yunho. We should have known better not to challenge those two competitive monsters. All in all, the night was fun and after having lost Sooyoung to some hot guy, I hit the dancefloor with Wooyoung and San, the three of us dancing our hearts out to every song. After a while, I grew concerned and started calling Sooyoung, making my two dancing companions almost take my phone away after six missed calls. But it didn’t take long for Sooyoung to finally text me, telling me she was upstairs with a Yeosang named guy smoking some weed, and that she’d be down in no time. I rolled my eyes at the text, huffing as I handed Wooyoung my phone to take care of. My skirt had no pockets and I forgot to bring a fanny-pack, I have grown tired of holding my phone, Wooyoung’s back pocket would do the trick until Sooyoung returned and I could give my phone for her to put in her little purse. The music wasn’t as loud in the kitchen as it was in the living room and it was also less packed, which made me grateful as I walked over to the window and pushed it open, smiling contently at the cool air which hit my face. I certainly needed to cool down. I grabbed a red cup which looked relatively unused and filled it with tap water, downing it in mere seconds only to fill it up again and again until I felt satiated. I threw the cup away and leaned against the counter, holding my thumping head in my hands as I closed my eyes for a second, thinking it would help. But it only made me more nauseous and I quickly opened my eyes as I massaged my forehead, still leaning slightly over. Somebody next to me asked if I was okay and I quickly nodded, telling them that I just needed a moment to regain composure again, and I’ll be off dancing once again. However, a weirdly familiar deep voice suddenly filled the kitchen, some high-pitched giggle following straight after the ridiculous joke the guy told. My nose scrunched up at the very cheesy pickup line which followed and I snorted, unintentionally catching their attention as they didn’t stand too far away.

“Y/N?” The deep voice asked surprised and my eyebrows furrowed as I finally raised my head, smoothing down my hair as it fell in my face.

“Oh, Mingi.” I muttered just a little surprised by his presence here. I wondered how he knew about the party, however, the black-haired girl by his side was a tell-tale. She was a student at my college and she was pretty as fuck. I sighed, and unintentionally glared at her, unimpressed by her presence next to Mingi. It’s not like I knew her well to form an opinion about her, but personally, I didn’t like her that much. Especially since Mingi seemed to be here with her. My eyes fall back onto him and my brain blanched for a second, never having seen him outside of the car service up until now. Him not wearing his tight-fitting clothes was something new and I couldn’t help but let my eyes run all over his body, taking in the sight in front of me. He wore a loose-fitting white t-shirt, the front slightly tucked inside his grey ripped jeans which were baggy. He wore a black pair of convers, and a black fanny-pack was pushed around to his backside to not bother him. However, what made me take a second to process what I was seeing were his accessories. His necklaces were layered as he wore a red braided like material which sat snugly against the base of his neck, then a silver chain followed, and a silver cross which reached just bellow his collarbones. His wrists were decorated with silver chain bracelets, matching the chain around his neck and he wore various rings, some bigger than the other, his right-hand sporting four meanwhile his left three. If all of that combined with his hair wasn’t enough, his fingernails were also painted black, albeit already coming off in some spots, but still painted black. He was a sight for sore eyes and it took everything in me to not grip his arm and walk us upstairs, completely disregarding the girl he was here with.

And she just had to speak up, “Oh, you two know each other?”

“Yeah, her dad’s my boss.” Mingi answered before I could and I raised an eyebrow as the girl took me in, unexpectedly smiling at me as she placed an arm around Mingi’s shoulders. My jaw tensed subconsciously and I licked my lips as I leaned back against the counter, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

“We go to the same college,” She told Mingi, offering her hand to me, “I don’t think we’ve ever really introduced each other, though. My name is Jennie, I’m Mingi’s cousin.”

“Cousin?” My eyebrows raised as I shook Jennie’s hand, “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Mingi playfully pushed Jennie off himself as he answered my question and Jennie just rolled her eyes.

“Whatever, giant, if I leave you alone with Y/N, will you behave?” She raised her eyebrows threateningly at Mingi and he just chuckled, raising his hands in surrender.

“I always behave.” He defended himself quickly, but sounded like he didn’t mean it at all.

“No, you don’t.” Jennie rolled her eyes then looked back at me, “I have to find my boyfriend, he’s somewhere here around, probably drunk off his ass. If Mingi bothers you, just knee him in the stomach really hard and come and find me, I’ll kick his ass for you—”

“I’m right here, you know.” Mingi rolled his eyes and ruffled Jennie’s hair, “Get lost before I chase you away.”

Jennie scoffed but walked away after she waved at me, leaving me alone with Mingi. My hostile behavior slightly dropped, but I couldn’t help look at Mingi with narrowed eyes. I knew what I heard while I was fighting the urge of throwing up. Why would anyone flirt with their cousin? That was disgusting.

“If Jennie is your cousin…why would you say a pickup line to her?” I couldn’t help but ask him accusingly. It made Mingi laugh as he stepped closer, smiling cheekily.

“Eavesdropping, weren’t you?” I opened my mouth to deny his claim, but Mingi didn’t let me, “First of, ew, that’s literally my cousin do I look like I fuck with family? And second, that pickup line was actually sent by someone whom I have been talking to, and I was just reading it to Jennie.”

“How many girls are you talking to currently?” The question tumbled past my lips before I could even think about it. I only could blame the alcohol for making me so straightforward and embarrassing.

“Wouldn’t you like to know…” Mingi chuckled and stepped closer, invading my personal space. I gulped and pressed myself harder into the counter, hands coming to grip the edge of it. A smirk appeared on Mingi’s lips as he leaned down to be eye level with me, eyes searching my face before they settled on my lips briefly. My head was spinning and perhaps I was seeing things, but his tongue poked out for a second, “You look really hot.”

I gulped and let out a quiet breath, looking down at myself. The leather skirt clung onto me like a second skin and the flower decorated corset did little to nothing to cover what I would usually hide. It was Sooyoung’s idea to dress up like this, she wore a matching set except her corset was green meanwhile mine pink.

“Uh, thanks.” I whispered and didn’t dare move as Mingi lowered his head even more, looking through his lashes as he looked me in the eyes. He’s never stood this close to me before; it only now made me realize the height difference between us. And I couldn’t help but faintly smell gasoline despite his strong cologne.

“Dressed up for someone?” He muttered and I felt a warm finger lightly trace the skin of my right arm. I gulped nervously and ignored the goosebumps on my skin.

“I didn’t know you’d be here—” I tried changing the subject, it seemed to be a habit of mine lately.

“But if you did know, would you have dressed up for me?” Mingi’s raspy voice whispered in my ear as he leaned closer, my mouth opening without a sound coming out. My tipsy brain didn’t exactly know how to function in that moment and that meant I had nothing to say. But as he pulled back, we made eye contact, and his intimidating gaze pulled an answer out of me instantly.

“Yes.” I would totally hate myself in the morning for admitting that, but I couldn’t help myself. Not when he was standing so close and saying things like that. A smirk pulled onto Mingi’s lips and suddenly his hand raised as he gripped a strand of my hair lightly and twirled it around, brushing it behind my ear. I watched him mesmerized, body slightly trembling because of different things. The opened window brought in the chill breeze and we stood close to the it; Mingi’s closeness and touch made me want to crash my lips against his, and I was fighting every fiber in my body to stop myself from doing that, thankfully not tipsy enough to lose all rationality.

“I think I know about your little secret, princess.” Mingi’s tone was playful as he suddenly cupped my cheek and tilted my head back, hovering his face over mine, eyes tracing my features slowly. I hoped my red lipstick wasn’t smudged and that it would be smudged in no time.

“What secret?” I asked confused, biting my lower lip as Mingi’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed, his fingers slipping towards my nape as his thumb pushed against my cheek.

“About your little crush—” He barely whispered, eyes on my lips as my mouth parted, heart beating like crazy, “on me.”

Before I could answer him, his teeth caught my lower lip between his and he sucked on the flesh, making my face flush as I mewled, hand holding onto his waist for more stability as the counter wasn’t enough anymore. He held eye contact as he released my lip and I felt like crumbling onto my knees and giving him anything he wanted as my grip tightened on him, head pulled closer to his by the grip he had on my nape. Mingi’s lips barely brushed against mine and I tried to close the impossibly little distance between us, but he just tsked and smirked.

“Good girls eventually get what they want, princess, be a bit more patient.” I couldn’t help but groan in frustration as Mingi released me and took a step back, smirking as he swiped his thumb over my lower lip, smudging my lipstick. I threw him a glare, but he just laughed and then turned around and walked off with a cup he grabbed off from the counter. I couldn’t help but lick my lower lip, pressing a palm against my racing heart as I tapped the sweat off my forehead, needing another cup of water to cool off.

            And I didn’t even have to wait for too long. Four days after the party, my father asked me to stop by the car service because he couldn’t decide what color to choose for the tuning he was doing for one of his friend’s car. I couldn’t have been happier to stop by as I made it my personal mission to stay away from that place for as long as possible, embarrassed by what happened between Mingi and I at the party, but also because I wanted to torture him a bit too. I could only hope he yearned to see me as much as I yearned for him. My father was out, having to pick up some pieces in the nearest city, which was half an hour away, so that meant he’d be gone for approximately an hour and a half. Everyone was gone by now from the car service as working hours were over, everyone except Mingi, of course. He had to catch up on his work as he had to skip a day for some undisclosed business. And yes, Mingi should’ve been working right now on that old car nobody actually wanted to fix, but here he was, balls deep in my pussy, thrusting into me like his life depended on it. I guess he was just a simple man too, and he fell exactly into my trap as I walked through the garage door wearing my little sundress, high heels elongating my legs. It didn’t take long for Mingi to stop whatever he was doing as he dragged me to the backroom, where there were no cameras, and pushed up on the table, wasting no time in undressing himself and working up the both of us. My head was thrown back from the constant pleasure his movements brought, his length reaching places no one else has before, my right hand gripping his bare waist as I rolled my hips to meet his thrusts. Mingi was biting his lips hard, holding onto my hips as I had to hold myself up with one arm, muscle straining with each strong thrust. Perhaps I should have expected him to be vocal, but the whines he would let out every now and then only turned me on even more, dragging my own moans out of me. Grease stuck to his left cheek, just underneath his mole and his already sweaty body from working was glistening once again, smelling strongly of the substance he has been working with to clean rims of the old car.

“I bet you’ve been fantasizing about me fucking you covered in grease and all sweaty from the long day I’ve had.” My only answer was a loud moan as he hit the sweet spot which made me see stars, and for a second, all I could hear were his own pants and the table squeaking louder and louder with each thrust.

“You have no idea—” I moaned as I clenched around Mingi, mind blanching for a second as he hit that spot again, “How fucking hot you look—like this.”

My fingertips dug into his hips and Mingi suddenly leaned down, pressing my back flat against the wooden table, rotating his hips as he suddenly slowed down. My mouth opened in a gasp and my legs went around his hips, one hand tangling in his blonde spikey hair as the other went around his shoulders to anchor myself. Mingi groaned in my ear as I clenched around his length again, his thrusts painfully slow on purpose, making me try to move my hips, but he had me pinned down by his heavier body.

“Fuck, please—” My whine was muffled by his lips as he pressed them against mine, pushing his tongue past my lips as I kissed him hungrily, wanting to feel more and more of him. Our lips moved messily against each other as Mingi slightly quickened his pace, but it still wasn’t enough. My eyebrows were furrowed as it started becoming unbearable and I whined, pulling my head away and choking on my words for a second, “I’m going to fucking die if you don’t go faster.”

I couldn’t believe Mingi had the audacity to smirk as he bit my lower lip harshly, making me push his head away as he chuckled amused, fake pouting at me.

“Thought I said good girls get what they want—” He completely stilled, bringing tears into my eyes out of frustration as I gripped his nape, trying to move against him to no avail, “And you’re being rather impatient right now.”

But before I could say anything, the slightly stood up and pulled almost fully out before slamming in again, his pace relentless and thrusts sharp as he threw his head back, moaning, making me grip onto his lower arm as he hit my g-spot over and over again, making my back arch as broken moans left my lips, nails digging into his skin. I was going fucking insane as his thumb found my clit and he started rubbing circles on it, making me cry out as I felt my orgasm building up, ready to snap any second as Mingi’s moans got higher and higher, my walls clenching tightly around him, bringing him closer to the edge as well.

“Fuck.” He hissed at a particular sharp thrust, his hips almost stuttering but I managed to meet his movements, desperate for my own release as I clawed at the wooden table, back arching as the pleasure became unbearable and the knot in my stomach snapped, making me let out a high-pitched moan, only for Mingi’s lips to muffle it as his hips stuttered, his own release following mine, filling me up. My body trembled and my lungs heaved for air as I came down from the high, our lips touching with Mingi as we both panted into each other’s mouths. His scent was intoxicating and I couldn’t help but burry my head into his neck and lightly bite down on his perfect skin, making him shudder. He didn’t pull out yet and I felt him twitch slightly, making me chuckle.

“So, I’m hot when I’m all sweaty and covered in grease?” He spoke up, voice raspy, and his words made me laugh as I allowed my head to rest against the wooden table, throwing an arm over my eyes. I could feel Mingi’s smile as he pressed a kiss against the corner of my mouth, swiftly pulling out.

“I said it once, I won’t say it again.” I peeked at him as he quickly pulled up his boxers and tight pants, adjusting his tank top.

“If I knew all I had to do was change my hairstyle for you to finally let me fuck you—” Mingi shook his head as he helped me off the table, smirking when I had to lean against it for support, my legs having gone numb, “I would’ve done it a lot earlier.”

“Perhaps if you weren’t so oblivious,” I threw him a glare and pulled up my panties, adjusting my dress, “You would’ve noticed how badly I wanted you since the first time I laid eyes on you, idiot.”

Mingi laughed and threw an arm around my shoulders as he pulled me into himself, “Now that that’s out of the way…do you want to date or do you want us to just fuck?”

His question made me pause as I looked up in his eyes, biting my lower lip in thought, “You want to go out with me?”

“I sure do.” Mingi said it like it was the most obvious thing, then he jutted his chin towards mine, “What about you?”

“What do you think?” I asked with a chuckle.

“That we should go for a second round—”

“Mingi!” I pressed my palm over his mouth and threw him a little glare, “My father could be back anytime, you know. And yes, I do want to date you. Unless you’re always this annoying.”

Mingi fake laughed as he pushed my hand off his mouth, “Aren’t you just so funny?”

I stuck my tongue out at him and he tried kissing it, making me yelp and push him away, which made Mingi giggle as he placed his hands in his pockets, “So, tomorrow at six?”

“But you better shower before you come pick me up.” I pointed a finger at him as we went to leave the room.

“I thought I smelled hot—”

“You can’t smell hot, so just—” I sighed and looked at him, “Just—dress up. You—I mean, you know, you looked really good at the party. I haven’t seen you out of your work clothes before.”

“Aw, aren’t you so shy right now and stuttering all of a sudden?” He cooed and poked my cheek, “As if I wasn’t inside you—”

“Y/N, you still here?!” I heard my father’s voice shout from afar and I threw Mingi a warning look as I pushed him away. He walked towards the car he had to fix defeated, throwing me those sad puppy eyes and a pout as my father walked inside the garage.

“Hi.” I waved at him and he smiled, glancing at Mingi.

“You can fix it tomorrow too, you know?” My father said as he went to put his own utensils away. Mingi hummed but said he didn’t have much until he was done, liar. My father glanced at me and I looked away from Mingi, smiling at my father innocently. He just shook his head and threw his keys at me, making me clumsily catch them.

“Go pick up your mother, I’ll stay behind and help Mingi fix the car.” He muttered tiredly as he walked up to my soon-to-be-boyfriend, oblivious to what Mingi would soon become to him as well. Not just an employee, but perhaps a part of our family too. I jokingly saluted my father as I stopped in the doorway, turning to look at Mingi, who was already watching me.

“Goodbye, Mingi.”

“Bye, Y/N.” Mingi tried to fight the smile off his lips as I turned around and ran off with a giggle, cheeks burning suddenly with embarrassment.

Good girls eventually get what they want, don’t they?

Masterlist

[tanoraqui]

Dungeon Meshi Liveblog: I thought I wasn't going to have strong opinions about the Laios-Shuro fight, but...

Laios was right about this! Yes, they had 2 physical fights first, but it's important to note that Laios was right about this!

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^ -man who would literally kill to stay in this room and observe this private conversation.

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Sir, your unfaltering little wide-eyed, amiable smile while seriously considering topics that are obviously un-smile-worth has charmed me utterly. I wish to study you like an climate-entomologist yearns for the butterfly that causes storms.

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She seems fine.

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If I start screencapping Laios's and Marcille's faces in this fight, I will never stop because literally every panel is devasting.

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Kuro has done distinctly the most damage so far this fight, just stabbing and gnawing, and I think we should recognize and appreciate that fact.

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I really miss the animation we got of Rin's lightning blast slicing narrowly past Laios.

I love how fast, if reluctantly, Laios accepts that if - not, that Falin is a true "monster", inhuman and hurting people relentlessly and unapologetically, and thus she needs to be killed before she kills them, like any other monster. I also love that Marcille doesn't accept this. Characters!

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+1 to qualification to kingship! Kabru is one again surprised (you can tell by how he's not smiling) (though this might also be due to the significant injuries he just took).

I do have several emotions about how Falin immediately yanks away and kills Kabru, without touching Laios. That's her brother!!

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I really like this little cluster because it says to me that Shuro still has very good "do what Marcille says when she abruptly shouts magic-related directions in combat" instincts. He's a mirror of the "You're already on the Christmas card, buddy" meme - more like, "You're still on the Christmas card." Just like Namari: no one really stops being fond of, and battle companions with, these weirdos.

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I think the most painful part of this probably is that Marcille isn't certain. Maybe this IS her fault. At minimum, she knows she might have mixed the dragon's soul into Falin's, which enabled this even if it didn't create it. But she can't 100% rule out the possibility that it's more her fault than that - which is, of course, the absolute worst thing to say to all of these people looking at her violently askance for using dark magic.

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yeahhhhhh "Lunatic Magician" REALLY lacks the oomph of "Mad Mage"

ANGRY LAIOS! It's such a rare expression on him, it's exciting to see.

.

Yesss look at my man Chilchuck use available tools in his environment and save this little goober who thinks it's cool to resent adults.

I really like how they show the social consequences of dark magic. Much beyond Shuro's anger: the other mages are now shutting Marcille down, especially where resurrection magic is concerned. She's made herself untrusted by her peers, whether or not the magic she used on Falin is truly "evil."

.

I really enjoy the, like, narratively obligatory, not actually real (well, maybe to Rin) "will they-won't they" between Kabru and Rin. In the story that this isn't, where Kabru is the protagonist with his quirky gang of found family who are helping him save the island and prevent another bloodbath like in his angsty backstory, she IS the One (Human) Female on the Team who is obviously his love interest - often the first to challenge him, battle mage rather than healer ie a Strong Female Character who nonetheless doesn't use unfeminine brute force, forced by happenstance to kiss...

Alas! Kabru is not the protagonist of this story, so Rin shall remain disappointed.

Also this montage of people healing and reuniting while in the background Laios and Shuro whale on each other remains SO funny. Flawless comedic timing.

.

Alright, hot take time: I feel like all the debate I've seen about the Shuro/Laios fight depict it as revealing the friendship basically shattered, and never real in the first place. Whereas I'm mostly warmed by how real it clearly was despite everything that just happened?

Shuro is operating on no food and less sleep, desperate to save the woman he idolizes without truly understanding her loves, who is now apparently a monster who nearly slaughtered his most loyal followers. In the past like 2 weeks, Laios has: watched his sister die to save his life (his little sister, whom he is supposed to protect), walked headfirst into a nigh-unwinnable fight to get her back, held her skull in his hands, got her back and held her in his arms, lost her again about 6 hours later in an even more unwinnable fight, which was proven even more unwinnable when the Mage twisted the dungeon itself against them, saw her again but as a murderous monster now (which might be due to the magic he agreed to use to resurrect her), swiftly and sternly resigned himself to fighting and potentially killing her (his little sister! whom he is supposed to protect!), had her recognize him (and no one else!) despite her monstrosity, watched her be killed (again!) in part thanks to him distracting her, except it didn't work and then she fled.

This is an immature, ignoring-immediate-needs (ie, food, healing) knock-down drag-out fight between two men at the absolute ends of their ropes, who, sure, have built-up resentments against each other and the world, and an inciting incident pushing them over the edge - but mostly neither of them can punch in the face the fact that they can't save Falin. So they punch each other instead.

I won't even address the prologue to the fight, where Laios tells him about the black magic and Shuro promptly tries to strangle him then levels a sword at him. Kabru already nailed that: Shuro was worried about Falin - that the magic had hurt her, that the social consequences would be worse. Laios knew this enough that he didn't fight back, then. But now?

The first shove is Shuro demanding, Don't you fucking DARE give me false hope.

I cannot emphasize enough how hard I would also slap someone for suggesting that I wasn't taking the death and monsterization of my younger sibling seriously.

Shuro knows it, too. He doesn't respond to this, he just punches, and Laios punches back. Shuro doesn't speak again until Laios knocks him all the way down, and

Shuro is at his absolute depth. The lowest point he (feels that he) can go. He cannot save Falin. He's shamed himself as a leader and heir by getting his people killed (they got better, but that's beside the point.) He's been beaten in hand-to-hand combat by this idiot northern peasant. He lets down his guard and pride enough to mutter this self-deprecation aloud...and the idiot northern peasant hears, compounding every shame - and it's infuriating especially because he doesn't even hear properly, just like he never hears properly - he's so frustrating in his friendly but oblivious constant irritation and THIS, Shuro can still be furious about, to avoid his grief/hopelessness/self-loathing/shame. This, he can still fight about!

So he does.

They're both wrong in this fight. They're both right. Laios was consistently inconsiderate; knowing this about himself - because it's not like by his early 20s he didn't know that he didn't Get people the way most people Get people - he should've made more of an effort, and picked up any of the hints Shuro was laying down. Shuro was too caught up in his own pride and out-of-place manners: when it was clear that Laios wasn't going to pick up on even the strongest "hint", he should've said something plainly instead of just letting his resentment build until he was effectively lying to Laios about, if not their entire friendship, certainly the shape of it.

But they were friends. They are friends. This isn't the posture or conversation of two guys who don't like each other.

It's two guys who are still, in fact, fucking exhausted, physically and emotionally - but they just got rid of a lot of extra, furious, helpless energy, so they're finally satisfied to just sit. Their posture is relaxed and casual; their conversation straightforward and companionable, if serious.

This is two guys who've sat like this many time at a campfire, in just these poses. Who've kept watch together late at night and stayed awake by talking.

Laios cares about Falin more than anyone in the world, and even after the words and blows they just exchanged, he's still willing to put Shuro's suit to her. Shuro didn't tell Falin he was interested in her until he proposed to her, but he's telling it all to Laios. Admittedly, this is because Laios is, Shuro assumes, the closest he'll ever get to being able to tell it all to Falin...but still. And he admits vulnerability, which he clearly wouldn't have done before, even to his most loyal and loved companions as they urged him to eat and sleep.

Yeah, they're buddies. If I had to describe it, I'd say: their relationship was built on unsteady, false foundations, but they built something sturdy on it anyway, and the sturdy thing survives even when the foundations shake and re-settle.

Lol at Shuro. "I'm going to report you to the local authorities for your crimes because it's the right thing to do. But if you survive, I'll totally use my power and influence to help you flee the country, and live peacefully on my estate beyond where an extradition treaty can reach you."

[soolh1k]

Not sure if your requests are open but could you do stray kids forgetting a date they had with (r) ? And maybe the aftermath of it? Thank you smm if you plan on doing this, I just really enjoy the way you right your angst.

- 🦴anon

🕸 umm... life 🕸

synopsis. when skz forgetting the date they had w you and the aftermath

pairing. bf!skz x reader genre. angst and fluff

a/n. Thank you so much for the request!!! I hope you like it and i am so glad that you like the way I write angst, means a lot to me ♡︎ love you 🦴 anon !! 🩷 english is not my first language so apologies for any misspellings or grammar. let me know if you'd like to be tagged !! YEAH AND SORRY FOR NOT POSTING!! I'LL BE BACK WITH MORE POSTS THESE DAYS LOVE UUU

✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ BANGCHAN

Chris was very focused on working on a new track. He wanted it to be perfect, and since he's someone who always finds flaws in things, he couldn't leave his studio until the new melody was flawless. Therefore, he wasn't even paying attention to his phone; he had it on silent just to finish that damn song. He didn't stop until he got frustrated because things weren't going as he wanted. So, he took a break to clear his mind and relax a bit. He picked up his phone and saw a ton of messages from you. It wasn't strange since you used to tell him everything, which he found adorable. However, he was surprised when he saw the messages you had sent him. Had he forgotten your date? No, that couldn't be true. He had it marked on his calendar, and he was genuinely looking forward to that day. He wanted to spend time with you; he missed you so much. He had messed up and needed to fix this urgently. He hadn't done it on purpose; he felt so guilty.

He quickly arrived at the apartment where you lived. He saw the food in the kitchen, and his heart sank. He barely realized how you must have felt sitting there alone in the middle of the night, waiting for him, excited to be only disappointed by him. The worst part was when he heard sobs coming from your room. You were crying because of him, because of his stupidity, and because of being a bad boyfriend.

He hurried to your room, making as little noise as possible. You were already lying in your bed, covered with your blanket up to your head. As soon as you felt your bed sink, something in you hoped it was Chris. When you heard his voice, you felt relieved but angry at the same time. You uncovered yourself and looked at your boyfriend with teary eyes, an action that hurt him even more. He didn't give you time to confront him; he already had you wrapped in his arms. All you could do was cry while holding him tightly.

"You're a fool, Chris," you said between sobs.

"I know, sweetheart, forgive me," he said, stroking your hair while still hugging you.

"I was so focused on my work that I never heard my phone, but I want you to know that my work will never be more important than you. You are my priority, beautiful."

"Do you promise it won't happen again?"

"It will never happen again, darling. Let's rest, okay? Tomorrow we'll have a lovely date. Sleep now, I love you."

✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ MINHO

He didn't know how much it hurt. Months without being able to go on a date with him. You didn't ask for much, not even for it to be a date outside the house. Just spending time together was enough for you. You just wanted to be with your boyfriend.

Minho hadn't even realized that you had sent him so many messages. He was trying to add new steps to the new choreography; the comeback was approaching, and he felt desperate to finish everything. He just wanted to rest.

It got really late; he was leaving the company around 1:30 am. When he reached the parking lot, the first thing he did was check his phone for any message from you. To his surprise, he had hundreds of messages from you, and the most concerning part was that the recent ones expressed disappointment towards him. What had he done wrong?

Slowly, he read each one and realized that you had a planned date today. He had completely forgotten, and he felt horrible. It had been months since you could go out or have a nice date. He put his phone aside and headed to his apartment. He needed to fix things with you; he knew you had been looking forward to this day for a long time.

As soon as he arrived at his apartment, he searched for you everywhere but couldn't find you. That made him even more nervous. He felt like he had lost you. However, he heard a sound coming from the bathroom—it was you, coming out after showering. At that moment, he breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he had messed things up, but at least you were still there.

You were frozen; you didn't expect Minho to come home so late. You stayed up late because you couldn't sleep due to anger and disappointment. So, you decided to take a shower to release all those consuming emotions. Lost in your thoughts, you felt someone wrapping their arms around you. You wanted Minho to let go, but deep down, you needed a hug. In whispers, you heard explanations from your boyfriend about how the stress of the comeback was consuming him, and he spent a lot of time at the company, even though he wished all that time was invested in you.

"Forgive me, please. I completely forgot that we were supposed to go out today. I'm really sorry that you felt that way, sweetie. It wasn't my intention to hurt you. Tomorrow we can go out; I'll stay home. But please, forgive me." You just nodded and gave him a small kiss.

"I love you, Minho."

"I love you too."

✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ CHANGBIN

You were sitting in your chair, waiting for Changbin to show up. You weren't even angry; just sad because you had planned this outing so much. You were worried because he wasn't answering your messages. You knew he had a busy job, spending most of his time in the studio producing with his friends. But you were hoping for the day when you could spend the entire day together, despite both of your stress and worries.

As it got later, you felt more tired. Without hope, you went to your room to change and remove your makeup. Today, you looked and felt beautiful, but it seemed like all that effort had gone to waste. You sat at your vanity, looked at yourself in the mirror, saw how tired you were, and started crying. Your relationship was wearing you down in a way you couldn't describe, but you wanted to stay because he made you happy. Changbin rarely failed in your relationship. Honestly, at the beginning, you expected something worse, but no, Changbin was the perfect boyfriend. The only complicated thing was his work, but you knew it was his dream, so you felt happy for him. You turned back to the mirror, saw tears, didn't even realize you were crying, which made you cry even more. You really missed your boyfriend, but things were getting more complicated. You just kept sitting there, crying in front of the mirror, waiting for your tears to stop.

Moments later, when you were calmer, you heard gentle knocks on your room door, followed by Changbin's voice asking for permission to enter. Something inside you didn't want to see him; you felt and looked horrible.

"Can I come in, princess?"

"Not now, Changbin, I need time," your voice sounded rushed, trying to remove your makeup as best as you could, mascara running like never before.

"Please, princess, I need to talk to you," the man sounded desperate.

"Just give me a few minutes, please." Saying that, you went to your bathroom, washed your face, and once clean, you ran to open the door. Your surprised boyfriend could only put his head on your shoulder; he exuded such a sad vibe.

"Forgive me, please. Time flew by, and I never realized we were going out today. I didn't even hear your messages. I'm really sorry, princess," Changbin was on the verge of tears, genuinely repentant.

"I know, Binnie, it's okay, don't worry," you said while stroking his head.

"It's not okay, princess. You are my everything, and today, I failed you. Forgive me, please. It will never happen again," he said between sobs. You couldn't believe he was crying.

"Love, I know how difficult your job can be. You have to do many things, and it's okay. I understand, and I trust you not to let it happen again. I love you," you said while hugging him tightly.

"I love you too, and sorry again."

✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ HYUNJIN

You were angry, not even sad, just angry. You had been wanting to see your boyfriend for a while, and as soon as he told you he had some free time, you planned many things to spend time with him. You even prepared many things for him, cooked various dishes, bought a little gift, and even tried to paint something for him. It turned out beautiful, but your boyfriend never showed up to see your little gifts.

You were on your way home when you felt someone approaching you. It made you nervous because it was already dark, and someone approaching wasn't a good sign. You started walking faster, but you heard the footsteps of the other person accelerating too. You didn't want to start running because if you weren't fast enough, things would end badly. Besides, you were carrying the things you had taken to the place where you were going to meet Hyun. All you were praying for was to reach a street where there were more people to lose that person. However, your wish couldn't be fulfilled, and you felt the person following you grab you by the shoulders. You almost fainted right there, but upon hearing the person's voice, your soul returned to your body.

"Why are you walking so fast, my goodness," said Minho, trying to regulate his breath.

"Oh my god, Minho! I almost had a heart attack. I thought I was about to be kidnapped. I swear I won't survive the night," you said, speaking very fast. Your voice didn't even have an annoyed tone; you could only hear relief.

"I called you several times, but you never paid attention. You were in your own world. What did you want me to do?" he complained.

"Well, your friend, the idiot, stood me up and never replied to my messages," you complained with an annoyed tone.

"I know, that's why I came. Honestly, it wasn't his intention. As soon as he saw the messages, he tried to run out, but the idiot tripped and sprained his ankle," Minho explained.

"Oh my god, but is he okay?" you asked worried.

"Crying but yes, he's okay. If I were you, I'd go to the company to see him because otherwise, it's going to end up being a disaster," a sigh was all that came out of you, nodding your head. You accompanied Minho back to the company.

As soon as Hyunjin saw you, he started crying more, feeling guilty. But all you did was approach him, hug him, and tell him not to worry right now. First, his health was important, and then you could talk.

"Don't worry right now, Hyunnie. First, get better, okay? I love you, everything is fine," you gave him a little kiss on the head.

"Forgive me, I love you. I swear when I recover, I'll take you on a very nice date. I promise."

✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ JISUNG

Angry, frustrated, sad, humiliated— you felt like a sea of emotions. You told him how you felt, but you didn't know if it had been the best choice, or the right words, or the right moment. Maybe he was just too busy? But still, it didn't give him the right to stand you up. It wasn't the first time; if the times you went on dates were few, the times he actually made it to the dates were even fewer.

You felt tired, abandoned even. You hardly had the chance to see your boyfriend, and you knew his life was complicated. But there was always the need, the desire to spend time with him, to love him like the first time, to be loved.

Now that you had arrived home, you didn't know what to do. It was like reality had punched you. You realized you had said things that could be misinterpreted. Perhaps the last message would seem like you wanted to break up when that wasn't really the case. The words you said were spoken without much thought; you were just venting, but it wasn't the best. You were shattered. You couldn't even move from the entrance; you were crying oceans, clinging to the door. You didn't want to move; your head hurt, and you couldn't even breathe properly. At this point, you were hyperventilating. Meanwhile, your boyfriend was rushing to your apartment to find you. He didn't want things to end between you two; he loved you and was willing to make a great sacrifice for you.

He arrived in less than 10 minutes, even though your apartment was 15 minutes away. He knocked on the door with desperation, which snapped you out of your trance. However, you couldn't move; everything hurt. As you didn't answer, he became even more worried. He entered the code to the entrance and found you on the floor, in pain, struggling to breathe. He took you in his arms and tried to calm you down. After a long time, you were much calmer, just looking at your boyfriend with teary eyes.

"I don't want to break up with you. I'm sorry, Hannie," you whispered.

"Nor do I want to, my love. Please let me take care of you. I promise that from now on, I'll always be there for you. My work will never come before you. You are my priority. Forgive me, let me fix things. I love you. I'm sorry," he pleaded.

"I forgive you, my love. I love you too. Let's go back to how we were before."

✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ FELIX

You were already asleep in the room you shared with Felix. A few hours ago, you were supposed to have your wonderful date. Unfortunately, that didn't happen because your boyfriend was probably busy. Yes, you were angry, but more than that, you were disappointed and sad. You used to be a sensitive person, so these kinds of actions hurt your feelings a lot. Let's say you had to cry yourself dry to fall asleep.

Felix was on his way home, very nervous and disappointed in himself. He had forgotten about the date you were supposed to have, one of the few times you could have time for just the two of you. He suspected that you were either devastated or asleep because you weren't answering his calls or messages. They even said your phone was on silent. When he got home, he looked for you in the kitchen. He saw your dishes neatly washed, while his were still on the table. The table was decorated with flowers and a few candles. You even bought a pink wine for the occasion. He had really messed up this time.

In panic, he went to look for you in the room, praying that you were there. And yes, he saw your small figure hidden under the sheets. That made his heart squeeze tightly. Had he really hurt you? He knew you were a very sensitive person, like a porcelain doll. He had to handle you with care, and that was his favorite part—taking care of you. You were his everything. How had he been failing you so much lately? He wanted to cry right there. He wanted to leave his busy life to give all his attention to you. Slowly, he approached you and sat on the side of your bed where only your hand hung. He took it gently and caressed it. He gave you a small kiss while whispering how sorry he was, how much he felt for hurting you, for failing you. He didn't realize you had woken up, only hearing the sweet and sincere words he was dedicating to you.

You got concerned when you felt your hand wet, a sign that he was already crying. Carefully, you moved and, in a slow motion, sat on the floor with him, face to face. You took his face gently in your hands and gave him many kisses, tickling him, which made him smile.

"It's okay, Felix. I already told you that I understand that your life is difficult."

"But even if it is, that doesn't mean I can fail you. It hurts to admit that I completely forgot that we were supposed to have a date today. I know how hard you try to do things for both of us. Please, forgive me. I want to give my all for this relationship, angel. I want things to be like before when we were both so happy."

"I want that too, Lix. I forgive you, okay? For now, let's have dinner together. I left your plate on the table, but I guess the food is already cold." You got up slowly and then extended your hand towards your boyfriend.

"Thank you, beautiful. I love you more than you can imagine. Things will get better, I promise." He gave you a kiss on the cheek as you both headed to the kitchen.

✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ SEUNGMIN

You were clearly hurt, unsure how to react to what happened. Seungmin had stood you up at a restaurant, and now you had to pay for an inexpensively expensive bottle of champagne and a meal you didn't even bother to eat. Walking back home with your heels in one hand and a broken heart in the other, you didn't want to return to your shared apartment with Seungmin. But your feet and head ached, you were tired, so you stopped at a bus stop to rest for a while. You felt your eyes getting heavy, very sleepy, but you knew it wouldn't be a good idea to fall asleep on the street. It was dangerous, and you didn't want anything bad to happen. So, you called one of your friends to pick you up.

You patiently waited for your friend, and when they arrived, Seungmin called. You didn't really feel like answering, but you did it anyway.

"Where are you?" At that moment, your friend arrived in their car, so you quickly got in because you didn't want to make them wait.

"On my way home, I guess." You weren't sure if you wanted to go home, but it was the most likely option.

"What do you mean 'I guess'? Don't you want to go home?" He asked with a concerned tone.

"It's not that, Seungmin. Just a friend picked me up, and I wanted to spend some time with him. Yes, I'll go home, okay?" A somewhat annoyed tone came from your voice. You didn't want to sound like that, but you were very tired and just wanted to rest. Your friend turned to look at you, worried. You just signaled to them that everything was okay.

"Do you know what time you'll be home?" he asked worriedly.

"To be honest, I don't know. I hope before midnight."

"I'll be waiting for you here. I love you. I'm sorry, beautiful." You noticed a tone of regret in his voice.

"I love you too, Seung." You sighed tiredly one last time and ended the call.

You and your friend spent the time talking on the way to distract you from the bad experience. Despite having brought food, your friend suggested going to a fast-food restaurant and ordering something through the drive-thru, and it sounded like a good idea. So, you both had dinner in the parking lot, continued talking for a while, and decided it was time to go home. Your friend drove you back and waited for you to enter the building where you lived.

The moment you entered your apartment, you felt a heavy, sad vibe—something inexplicable. It felt completely weird because you expected Seungmin to come running to see if you had arrived safely, but none of that happened. So, you decided to go look for him. You found him in your shared bed, curled up, crying like never before, which crushed your heart. Slowly approaching him, once by his side, you started stroking his back, intending to help him calm down. However, that only made him cry more. He felt extremely guilty, but now you also felt guilty. You should have solved things earlier, but you chose to leave, making things worse than they were. You lay down next to him and hugged him, starting to comfort him, which this time worked. After a few minutes, he began to speak.

"Sorry, beautiful. I completely forgot that we were going out today, and by the time I realized, too much time had passed, and I couldn't find any way to fix it. Please forgive me. I promise I'll make it up to you." He apologized, turning around to face you.

"Of course, Minnie. I forgive you. I was just a little upset, but I know how busy your life can be. All I wanted was some time for us because lately, we haven't been able to go out like before," you said, stroking his cheek.

"I know, beautiful. But soon, I'll get some vacation, and if I don't, I'll take a few days off to be with you, my love." He hugged you tightly.

"Thank you, Minnie. I love you more than you can imagine. Forgive me too, and let's keep being happy together, okay?"

"Yes, silly. I love you much more."

✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ JEONGIN

After sending that message, you felt guilty because maybe it wasn't his fault, but it seemed like he wasn't putting in the slightest effort into your relationship. Every time something complicated happened in your relationship, it wasn't him who came to talk to you about it; it was always his coworkers. This bothered you a lot because it seemed like he was too cowardly to tell you things, either by message or face to face.

Right now, you didn't know whether to cry, get angry, or worry. You really didn't know what to do or how to act. What were you supposed to do? Wait and see if the man you love shows up, or if he's just going to back away again. These thoughts only made you more depressed. You even fell asleep while crying, so you didn't know what was happening around you at that moment.

When you woke up, you had missed numerous calls from your boyfriend, his friends, your friends—literally everyone. He had been looking for you for about an hour and a half, something that surprised you because you didn't even feel like you had fallen asleep, so you didn't notice the calls and messages they had sent you. Disoriented, you started reading messages from your friends saying that Innie had been looking for you for a while and seemed sad. When you began reading his messages, you realized you had messed up really badly. You had around 100 messages from Jeongin apologizing, asking you not to leave him, and begging to see you just to apologize properly. If you didn't want to be with him anymore, he said it was okay, but he just wanted to say goodbye properly. However, you didn't want to end it either; you only said it on a stupid impulse. He was and is the love of your life, and you didn't want things or the love between you to end. You quickly called him, praying that he would answer, and not even 3 seconds passed when a desperate Jeongin answered. You were about to speak, but he started apologizing endlessly, just saying words desperately, not even making coherent sense. He just didn't want you to hang up and say you no longer wanted to be with him. His desperation made you feel disoriented and sad, but at the same time, it frustrated you because he wouldn't let you talk. Therefore, you decided to raise your voice a bit to make him stop talking.

"Jeongin! Let me speak first, okay?"

"Yes, sorry."

"I don't want to break up with you. I know I said I couldn't take it anymore, and it's true, but I know being busy is not your fault. I just want you to communicate more with me. I don't want your friends always having to inform me. I want it to be you," you said with some emotion, finally able to express what you felt.

"Yes, love, I promise. From now on, I'll change for the better, but please don't leave me. I love you more than you can imagine. That's why from today, I'll be the person who makes you happy forever," he promised with a lump in his throat.

"If that's the case, come home now, Innie. I miss you. I want to fix things properly. I miss everything about you, please," you begged your boyfriend.

Tag list !!

@albaficaslover

@damselettism

[tulipsforyourlips]

✧˖°. i found you ✧˖°. (7)

|| the sandman x dead boy detectives ||

SUMMARY: You run the dead boys detective agency along with your two best friends. And somehow two ghosts and a living girl make it work. Until you dream one night, of dream himself.

PAIRING: dream of the endless x fem!reader

WC: 3.6K

WARNINGS: heavy angst, violence, heavy depictions of gore!! proceed only if you have the stomach for it!

PART 7 ✧˖°.

You were wrapping the take out noodles around your fork, for some minutes now. There was no space for food inside you, your guts were packed. With agonizing feelings. And the worst of them- unrequited feelings. You dropped your head on the table. 

"Insult. Preposterous scandalous insult. If I could eat, I would never ever insult noodles like that." Charles entered the living room.

He sat down beside you on the floor with a sigh. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong." You titled your head in his direction, still resting it on the marble surface.

He brought his face needlessly closer. "Yeah?"

"You know mate there is this notion you have never heard of-it's called personal space and you're seriously invading it right now." You pushed his face back.

"Come on, tell me." He poked your leg with his under the table.

"Charles I," you pressed the heels of your hands against your eyes.

"I think I am in love." You brought your hands down and looked into his eyes.

"Haz you're my best friend-" Huh "-and I love you, I do but-"

"Not with you! You buffoon!" You smacked his shoulder.

His mouth formed an 'O'. "Of course I knew that," he said while massaging his shoulder. "That hurt by the way."

"Good." You threw your head on the couch behind you.

"Who is the unlucky man?"

"You don't know him."

"Wait is this the guy you keep ditching us for?"

"No-yes and I don't ditch you for him you overdramatic arse."

"Whatever. Are you sure you are in love?" He asked. "It's not just some infatuation?"

"No Charles it isn't a stupid crush. I feel my trachea physically contract when I am near him. Like someone has just seized it, leaving behind thumbprints-his thumbprints."

"I did not get a word of that."

You rolled your eyes.

"Is he hot?" He smirked.

You went over the memories of his flawless face, each detail on it so intricately stored in your mind.

"He's beautiful."

"Damn, you are fucked mate."

You were fucked.

"What's going on?" Edwin joined you both.

"Hazel is in love."

"Wha-"

"No!" You shrieked. "I think. I don't know."

"The mystery date?" Edwin pulled a chair and spun it so that his torso was against the back of it.

"Yeah."

"Haven't you known him for a month maybe?"

"It feels like an eternity," you said. "Why me?" You wailed.

"Happens to the best of us soldier." Charles patted your back.

"Does he..love you back?" Edwin inquired.

"Guys love is too strong a word! And no."

"Has he told you that?"

You narrowed your eyes at Edwin. "No." Before he could take apart your reply and divulge into its interpretations, you rebuffed, "he can't. It's not possible. It's complicated. Just that he can't. And please, can we stop talking about this. Don't you two have any better things to do than piss me off."

"No. Hazel in love is a whole new facet for me to explore."

"Say love one more time and I will skin you alive," you threatened.

"Loooooove," Charles sang.

"This is precisely why I was planning to just sulk by myself alone and swallow down my feelings. Fuck healthy coping mechanisms." You pushed the table back and began standing up when Charles pulled you down.

"You would have exploded."

"Like I am practicing sainthood right now," you fumed as you thrashed against his arms.

"So how old is he?" Edwin queried.

"You people are insufferable. Are you building a freaking facebook page for him?"

"Hey how did you know?" Charles was sniffing the bowl of noodles.

You hit him on the head. "Can you even smell it?"

"It's the effort that counts mate and stop bloody hitting me!" He yelped.

"Stop being you!"

"Guys guys stop it! Hazel how old is he?"

"Quite old," you sighed.

"Like grandpa old-"

"Ew Charles. Well," He was technically more than that.

Edwin's eyes widened. "I was aware you were into older men but?"

"Come on he can't be older than us," Charles grinned.

Yeah about that...

"What is he? Jesus?" Edwin questioned.

"Yeah mate like she just casually fell in love with a god."

Oh boy they were treading dangerously close.

As they began speculating which greek gods they would fuck, marry or kill, you felt your eyelids droop down and you succumbed to the sweet call of sleep.

You stood over the dreaming waters, a wind blowing your hair awry. You lowered your body and your fingers grazed the surface of the glittering water, causing a tremor of ripple. You felt the energy seething in the water body, intangible but somehow compellingly real. And you let it's force pull you into the unfathomable depths of the sea. The impact was cold against your mortal skin, but not as jarring as it should have been for a human. Perhaps it was practice, perhaps it was your weird abilities. Here you could even breathe underwater without flooding your lungs. A trail of light erupted inside the water, guiding you to your destinations. You slackened your muscles and allowed it to steer your body to the dream awaiting you. Like it had been for the past few days. You fell into the dream. Riveting darkness engulfed you. Something was off. A putrid smell wafted through the air which was devoid of any warmth. You opened your arms wide, trying to gain an estimation of your surroundings. Your hands braced against something. A wall? You tried to feel the coarse rugged wall with your fingers but they came away slicky. Gross.

"Hello?" You called out into the apparent void and heard your voice echo against the sickening enclosure of wherever the fuck you had stumbled onto. 

The rancid odour that hung in its air did not aid in pacifying your nerves. You carefully started walking, trying to locate the dream's inhabitant and reach the end of wherever you were when a  clank sounded from where your feet had accidentally kicked something. Before you could discern it, a torch shone in the far distance. A muddled sense of relief poured into your nerves.

"Is anyone there?" You called into the darkness and began approaching the source of light which was gradually making its way towards you.

As you neared the silhouette, it began taking the form of a person. Then you stopped in your tracks, the momentary relief freezing into blocks of fear. A beast of a man holding a sconce alit with fire stared at you with eyes reflecting its light along with an untamed hunger for bloodlust. And then he smiled, displaying all of his crooked yellowed teeth. You took a step back, then another and ran for your life. But luck adored you and you tripped and fell face first onto the ground. Ouch. Your tongue tasted copper as blood oozed from your lips. The left side of your face that was in direct contact with the grimy ground throbbed and you were sure you had managed to bruise that too. You lifted yourself up on your hands weight which stung with meek cuts. The man's footsteps grew louder. And as they did, the light of the raving fire fell on the object you had first hit your leg against and now tripped on. A corpse, multiple corpses, half of them dwindled down to a revolting cluster of skeletons while the other half were decaying their way towards their comrades littered around your own breathing body which could soon add to the pile. Could you die in dreams? You could definitely get hurt. Oh my god you could definitely die. You wanted to empty your guts. Instead you ran. How were you in a nightmare and whose bloody conscious were you in? Who dreamt of walls slick with blood and cannibals or whichever friendly profession the guy practiced roaming within them?

"Dream," your voice pleaded as you exhausted your lungs' limits. You spared a glance back, he was still pursuing you. "Dream! Help me!"

No answer. 

He couldn't hear you. You knew that. You had tried it the second time you had entered someone else's dream- cursing and taunting him as a healthy way to vent your anger at your failed attempts. You had to escape this place. But how? The only way you knew was the opening of a portal after the dream had bent to your will. And there was no way you could get that despising man to trust you. Your legs ached but the nearing shadow on the ground had you disregard it. A portal appeared out of nowhere in front of you and the inertia of your run had you dive straight into it. Pitch black swallowed you again, this time absent of the smell of rotten corpses as you plummeted, to your death. No, not your death. You landed on stable ground in pure darkness. And a light bulb switched on. A mob of zombies were circled around you. Sharp acute fear sliced through your insides. Then the light fused out. Pitch black. When it switched on again, the bloodthirsty creatures were impossibly near you. Shabby vile hands wrapped around your throat. Another pair around your forearm. And another. The army of zombies was on you, nails digging into your flesh, drawing blood.

"Dream please," you futilely begged.

No answer.

Just as your mind was supplying you with images of the dead boy detectives at your tombstone, a portal opened underneath you and gravity pulled you down yet again. Your feet slammed against a polished floor. You found yourself in a diner. Nobody seemed to take in your pathetic presence as you stood studying the scenes playing in front of you. A waitress named Jenny took a happy couple's order. A young man dressed up for a job interview sat on the counter. A woman was calling up her girlfriend after a nasty fight. In the kitchen someone chopped up tomatoes. An odd man sat in a booth in a corner, observing the people all around with an unsettling glint in his eye. A red glow illuminated his face which seemed to come from an object clutched in his hand. Conversations played out everywhere. The scenes segued into the next seamlessly. Something about this figment felt less a dream and more like a memory. But that did nothing to melt the blocks of fear still floating around in your blood, given the fiery streak of nightmares you were on. It's as if you were witnessing the worst of humanity. Your skin bore bleeding gashes as proof. You watched the now mismatched couples make out with each other. And when you blinked, you were alone. It was as though the people had vaporized into thin air. Apprehension tingled your spine. Three people flickered into existence to your right like the lights flickering overhead. The job interviewee was huddled over the CEO's husband. He pulled away a little and a gasp of horror left your mouth. A gaping slash decorated his neck as blood streamed from it, seeping into his clothes and onto the floor. Bile arose in your throat.

"What did you do?" The wife squeaked.

"I didn't mean to-" The young man started explaining when he dissolved into nothingness like the rest.

You wanted to get out of here. What kind of fucked up memory was this?

Two figures materialized in the back, in the kitchen. The waitress was burning papers into a fire while the chopping guy from before was cutting up more vegetables. You warily approached the window segregating the customer side and you wished you hadn't. It wasn't just papers the woman was burning but her own hands and you fought the urge to scream at the charred skin of the woman which was peeling off her hands, exposing the tissues and bones inside. Her friend wasn't bringing his knife down on tomatoes but with a grimace, you saw on his own fingers. Blood spluttered onto the chopping board, a few droplets etching on his face. You grabbed the counter behind you as you shivered due to the gruesome sight you had just experienced. You grinded your teeth in order to not throw up right there and then. In the next second, they were both gone. You revolved your head around, scanning for any sort of escape from the ceaseless series of nightmares you had locked yourself in. You started towards the door, when Jenny appeared in your way with two screwdrivers in her hand. And to your utter harrowing horror, thrusted their spiky ends into her eyes. Your stomach unfurled into a sickening frenzy that gripped every organ of your being and you shuddered. You closed your eyes. Tears slid down your face, mixing the taste of copper and seawater on your tongue. Everything hurt.

"Dream I want to get out," you croaked to yourself, fingers trembling.

No answer.

When you opened them again, all the individuals from before were leering at you. Drenched in blood- gushing out of necks, dripping down from hammered and sliced hands, accompanied by bloodied slits for eyes.

"Dream please, I need you," you whispered, tears falling down in a torrent. 

Blood splattered everywhere as they made their way to you. The door was just behind you. But you were frozen in your spot, dread weighing your body down. They spread around, closing in from every direction. You took a step back and your back collided with something solid. You closed your eyelids, waiting to be impaled on a knife or a screwdriver when a familiar hand draped around your waist.

"I got you," Dream's sweet voice said in your ears.

And in a heartbeat, the horrendous scene was replaced by his throne room. He released his hold on you and without his hands keeping you upright, your knees buckled and you fell to the floor.

Bottling down any sob that could dare leak through, you asked, blinking away tears, "what happened back there?"

"You accidentally ventured into the worst the Dreaming has to offer," he explained while scrutinizing your injuries.

"I did not venture Dream. I got sucked into it," you bit out.

The Endless lowered himself to where you were crouched on the floor. You must be looking a complete and hapless fiasco, lips and skin torn, blood desecrating your features, incongruous in the Dreaming castle. 

"Hazel I never thought those could even be accessible to you. Some nightmares yes, but none that terrorizing. Something must have-"

"You knew?" You looked up at him. "You knew that I could stumble into a nightmare any of the days you sent me there?"

"It-it never happened before, with Hope-"

"I am not Hope!" you snapped. "I almost died Dream, more than once." Your voice shook involuntarily.

"I wouldn't have let you," he said firmly. "I heard you."

He did? All the names you had called him and the jokes you had made of his 'conceited arse' passed through your mind. But the spur of embarrassment mellowed down as rage took its hold back on you.

His fingers skimmed across the underside of your eye where a scar was engraving into it.

"Don't touch me." You swatted his hand away.

A momentary hurt flashed in his eyes.

"Oh please like I am not doing you a favour. You act as if my touch burns you." You tried to get up but a swell of dizziness swept over you and you would have fallen again if Dream hadn't caught you against him. And as quickly, he let go of his hands.

"You promised,"

Dream flinched at your words.

"You promised it would be fine. Nothing about that was fine."

Dream went still. You turned back, away from the glass panes. The crystal colours reminded you of the apron Jenny was wearing and the image of the waitress jabbing the metal ends into her eyes, surfaced from wherever it had been imprinted in your mind for the remainder of your life.

"I can't do this anymore Dream. I am sorry."

A yank pulled you out of your sleep and your eyes fluttered open in the waking world. Every muscle in your anatomy was sore.

"Come on you tosser up!" Charles barged into your room.

You dragged your sheets over your head, shielding your sorry state from his gaze.

"Get up mate!" He whined. "I come as a bearer of absolutely brills news. We have, drumroll please," he rapped his hands on the bedstand, "another sea monster creating havoc!"

"I am not feeling really well today. I don't think I will be able to accompany you," you said from under your covers and Charles groped them, about to toss them aside.

"Bugger off! It could be a nasty infection, you will catch it."

"Ghost's don't get sick idiot."

"Charles please I am a mess right now, go without me," you pleaded.

"Ugh fine. Rot in bed for all I care." And he went away.

So you proceeded to rot in bed all day, staring at the wall, regretting your existence, you know, the usual. After a while, as the sun became dimmer, you got out of your bed with grueling effort, scrambled on a hoodie to conceal your bruised face and body incase the boys got back and went to the study. You began combing through thick volumes of parasite trivia to distract your mind from replaying the events of last night. Even the knowledge of your confrontation with Dream sparked a pain that hurt more than any physical wounds on your self. You browsed through the shelves and your fingers hovered over a book that peeked your interest. You pulled it out and immediately dropped it onto the floor at the swooshing sound from the mirror.

"Fuck, you scared me," you told a reappeared Edwin.

"I had no intention to," he apologized. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," you lied.

Charles was next through the mirror.

"How was the case?"

"Ugly," he said. "Did you know about the night nurse?" He scrunched his face.

"The what?" Your bafflement was genuine.

"She's this transcendental being working in some afterlife department locating missing boys-missing dead boys and allotting them their fixed places in the afterlife," Edwin spoke up.

"Yeah she's a bitch basically. Tried to separate Edwin and me here." He put up his hands in disbelief. "The gall. She can try." He balled up his fist into a punch. "I won't let her take you back to hell," he told Edwin.

Edwin smiled softly and squeezed his hand. "I know Charles."

"This doesn't make sense. Death isn't even after you," you blurted out and realized your mistake.

"What do you mean?" Both their ears perked up.

"I don't think that she is." You moved away from them and secured the hood around your head. You kept the study barely lit for the aesthetics and you applauded yourself for that whimsy decision.

"Well believe it or not the world doesn't adjust itself to what Hazel thinks and what Hazel feels," Charles blabbered.

Except it did.

"Yeah, I know. I am going to bed, see you later." You picked up the book you had dropped earlier and walked away.

"You sleep more than a corpse these days you know?"

You stopped in the doorway as the skeletons and remains of people from one of the nightmares entered your vision, a fate you were about to join.

"That isn't  funny," you deadpanned as you turned around.

"Dude chill it was a joke. Why so serious? Trouble with your boyfriend?" He snickered.

"Everything is not a bloody joke Charles!" You hurled your book at him and he ducked just in time from having a permanent dent on his head.

"What the fuck mate?"

"Hazel," Edwin chastised.

You pressed your fingers against your temples. "I am sorry."

You rushed out of the study, mad at everyone and yourself. Footsteps followed behind.

"Edwin please don't."

You winced as he grabbed your forearm. He noticed your reaction and pulled your sleeve up. You jerked free from his grip but he had already seen the claw marks carved in your skin.

"What was that?"

You shied away from his inspecting glare. He warily approached you, afraid he might set you off again. But as you retreated back, your hood fell back and light illuminated your battered face.

Edwin sucked in a breath. "What the fuck happened to your face?" His voice was upsettingly calm. You had never heard him curse once in the 4 years you had known him.

He clenched his teeth when you didn't respond. "Hazel, I asked you a question."

"I tripped." That was partially true.

"You tripped?" He asked incredulously. "What is happening to you?"

"Everything is fine Edwin! Absolutely brilliant. There is nothing you need to worry about."

"How can we not?" He cried. "We care for you!" He brought his voice down several octaves.  "We want to help you."

"You can't okay!" You yelled at him.

"Let us try." His eyes were locked on yours. "Please."

Your eyes grew watery. You plopped down on the couch near you. Edwin sat himself next to you.

"What is going on Hazel?" He gently probed.

You pursed your lips to stop yourself from crying. "Nothing." You shook your head.

"Come here."

He put his arm around you and at the touch, the dam of your emotions busted open and you crumbled into his embrace, soiling his shirt with your tears. He stroked your hair as you sobbed into his chest, emptying all of the pent up frustration and hurt and loss until you were numb, incapable of feeling anything. Oh Dream, what are you doing to me?

SERIES MASTERLIST ✧˖°.

[kanbockoida]

Third time’s the charm.

Adam x fem!Reader x Lucifer

Warnings: none

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

The sun’s gentle rays tickled the woman’s nose, causing her to wake up with a big yawn, turning over to somehow escape the light. Fluttering her eyes open, the first thing she saw was Adam, like every morning. Y/N caressed her husband’s face with a gentle smile on her lips, observing every facial feature of his. There was only one thing she was jealous of. His lashes and his overall skincare. That man did nothing to take care of his skin whatsoever, and yet it was flawless. Not a pimple or blackhead in sight.

With a hum, the woman tried shaking her husband awake, which worked on the first try for once. He grumbled, opening one of his eyes to blankly stare at his beloved.

“My love.. why?” He grumbled, reaching over his eyes to lazily rub them. Y/N only chortled, hopping out of bed to completely open the blinds, finally letting the sun greet them. In this very situation, it was obvious who’s the morning person and who isn’t.

“Don’t be grumpy, dear. Frowning doesn’t suit you.” Muttered his loving wife as she strutted back over to him, leaning over his half asleep form to peck his forehead. “Let’s get freshened up, yeah? There’s a meeting you have to attend today.” Y/N smiled at him, almost beckoning him to follow her to the bathroom.. which always worked. Almost every morning the two would get ready together, which gave Adam an excuse to either lean on his wife or touch her.

As they stood in the bathroom to brush their teeth, they practically leaned on one another. Their soft gazes meeting in the mirror could make one’s heart melt, filled with such adoration and love, it’s both adorable and sickening at the same time. The teeth-rotting kind of sweet. Two hearts beating as one, no matter where they are. Every morning Y/N would do the same thing in the exact same order that it became a habit. She’d brush her teeth, wait for Adam to finish just to cup his cheeks, lovingly stare into his eyes before kissing his lips tenderly. Only seldomly Adam would return that affection this early in the morning, and that day was one of these days.

He wrapped his arms around her waist in such a gentle manner it gave the impression that she would break if he put too much pressure on her. Leaning his forehead against hers, Y/N found the opportunity to wrap her arms around him as well. “What’s this sudden affection for, loverboy?” His wife hummed, pressing their bodies together as close as physically possible. “Nothing.. Just want to hold onto my wife, is that so bad?” Adam huffed out, kissing his wife’s nose. He seemed so vulnerable right now, and Y/N couldn’t point her finger at it.

“C’mon now, you big baby. The meeting is soon and we still haven’t eaten breakfast.” His wife said with disapproval. She took hold of his hand, practically dragging him to the living room to usher him to sit down. Adam however looked at her confused, blinking once, twice before registering her words. “What do you mean we? You’re not coming with me.” He glared a little, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked down at his wife. Y/N stopped in her tracks, slowly turning around with the most threatening glare that made Adam’s blood run cold. An angry wife is his worst fear.

“You have no say in this matter, Adam. You have your part of the job handed to you by the Seraphim, so do I. You are not going to stop me, am I clear?” Her voice dropped dangerously, her own wings twitching in annoyance. Of course she loved her husband, but his choice of words irked her like no other. Adam noticed her mood change, gulping as he nodded. “Y-Yes my love, crystal clear.” He smiled wryly, trying to lift his beloved’s mood up.

The morning passed rather quickly, Adam and Y/N parting ways for now, since her darling husband had to check in with Sera for a rundown of the meeting. One thing about Y/N is that she’s always early, no matter what. This meeting is no different. In heaven’s embassy, Y/N chose the far end of the table from the entrance, putting down the needed documents as well as a notebook just in case. Y/N blew a little raspberry as she sat down, scribbling little doodles onto the first page of that journal.

After just a few minutes she heard the door creak open, her head snapping up in hopes of it being her husband, yet it wasn’t.

In came a short man clad in white, red and gold, seemingly around 5’2. Y/N observed him with her head tilted a little. His hair was a beautiful blonde color that people would die for, a white hat with a red rim around it. What she also noticed was a golden snake wrapped around an apple on top of that hat.. What caught her eye most were his eyes. They were so expressive.. as if she could see his entire story in them. Bright red eyes stared right into hers, seemingly confused.

“..Who are you?” They spoke at the same time, which had caught them off guard. It was silent for a couple of seconds before the two of them burst into a small set of giggles, Y/N standing up from her seat to make her way over to him. Lucifer looked up at the woman with a tiny smile of his own, both of them seemingly trying to figure out what to say next. “I’m Y/N. It’s.. a pleasure to meet you?” She spoke kindly, reaching out her hand for him to take. He did, shaking her hand with a tight grip as a first greeting. “Lucifer, Morningstar. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N” His smile was charming. It would make a woman’s heart throb, but not for Y/N. His voice however did indeed light a tiny spark deep within her chest. Liking someone’s voice surely can’t be a bad thing..

At least, she thought it wasn’t.

Hearing that name surprised her quite a lot, but she tried not to let it show too much. This was the devil.. from the bible? He’s not as.. scary as she thought. He’s usually described as a monster, a trickster. This.. marshmallow lookalike is supposed to be the king of Hell? She couldn’t believe it. “Oh? Well, do I call you your royal highness?” The woman joked, pulling her hand away as a tiny smile formed back onto her lips. The King of Hell only laughed, shaking his head just a bit. “Goodness, no. Lucifer works just fine, please.” He waved her off, trying to gather his thoughts in a short amount of time. Something about this woman was so.. alluring. The way she carried herself was so confident, no worries whatsoever.

Lucifer quickly cleared his throat, having found the right words to keep this conversation going and not turn into awkward silence. “So, I assume Adam will be joining us soon? This is not the first time he’s late.” The blonde haired man chortled, resting his weight on his cane. Y/N let out a soft sigh, nodding her head almost shamefully now. “I sure hope so, I told him not to get carried away with the conversation he’ll have with Sera.. yet here we are.” She shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed for her husband’s late arrival.

Just before either of them could get another word in, the door slammed open. It was so aggressive that it could have snapped off its hinges. In came Adam, wearing his ‘uniform’ as he liked to call it, as well as his mask that covered his entire face. Y/N disliked that mask a lot. How could she see her husband if he was wearing this atrocious looking thing? The first man scoffed at the sight before him, walking towards his wife quicker than he ever had. He sent a glare at the shorter blonde as he wrapped his arm around his beloved, pulling her close to his side. Seeing Lucifer so close to Y/N set a fire ablaze that could only count as rage. The bad memories of both of his wives leaving him flooded his mind, putting his insecurities before the trust he had in his current wife.

Feeling pride swell in his chest, the first man straightened his posture, flexing his golden wings to make them appear bigger than they were in their folded state. Using his wings to assert dominance is something he’d do quite often, especially when a man came too close to his beloved.

Y/N could basically feel the anger radiating off of Adam, which made her just a tad bit confused. Her head turned from Adam to Lucifer, before she looked back at her husband. The dots finally connected. Her darling husband was scared, which was very unlike him. “Adam.. Tone it down, I’ll always be here.” She mumbled, gently pulled him along to the other side of the table.

The Morningstar had taken a seat as soon as Y/N took Adam’s hand to sit down. He was completely enamored by her. How could a woman like her date a man like that. He didn’t like the sound of it, nor the thought. The blonde haired man shook his head, trying to shake that thought out of his head. Ever since Lilith left him he’s been so.. lonely.

Adam noticed Lucifer staring at him absentmindedly, a wicked smirk forming onto his lips. “Quite the looker, huh? Glad you’re acquainted with my dear wife, Lucifer.” Spoke Adam, a cocky look glinting in his golden eyes. He was rubbing it in. Rubbing in the fact that Lucifer was a wife-less loser. Y/N knew her husband better than that. He was insecure. Scared that his past will repeat itself. Lucifer furrowed his brows, clenching his hand around the fancy ballpoint pen he had picked up, silently staring at the first man.

Clearing his throat, the Morningstar finally announced the start of the meeting. “So! You might be wondering why I requested a meeting.” He hummed, giving them a moment to think. “Ever since the extermination, you and your little army have been getting a little too close to the hellborns. That was not part of the agreement, Adam.” Lucifer, snapping his fingers which made a piece of paper appear in front of them, showing the percentages of the sinners and hellborns killed this year.

“I want to refine the deal. You may lead your army to hell every year at the same time for the same duration.. but you may not harm the hellborns in any way. I don’t want to hear any complaints from anybody. Do we have a deal, or are you too incompetent to understand?” A smirk formed upon his lips, shooting Adam a toothy grin, aware that he had him right where he wanted to.

The first man growled, fists clenched in pure anger. How dare that midget assume he, Adam, was incompetent? “You know what? Fuck you. Nothing will happen. Everything will be fine. No accidents, no hellborns hurt or killed. I swear on my wife. Wouldn’t want her to suffer the consequences alongside me” It was meant as a joke. None of the men realized the severity of these words. Adam’s beloved wife however? She realized immediately, as soon as those words rolled off of his tongue. Holding herself back, the woman grabbed onto her skirt to let her frustration out one way or another, even though strangling her husband seemed very alluring right now.

To make matters worse, they both shook on it. That little act set everything in stone, making Y/N a sacrificial lamb in a sense. Lucifer turned to the woman with a small grin, stretching out his hand as a goodbye. “It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Y/N” Just before she could place her hand in his, Adam quite literally snatched her away before their fingers could even brush against each other. “It was a pleasure for me too!-” She called out as she was roughly pushed through the portal that was created behind them, leaving Lucifer standing there with a shy yet sad grin.

Oh, how he wished he could see her again.

[mqverick]

Walking On Air || chapter 9

Take me to bed or lose me forever, was what Carole said to Goose every time they were together, having fun. Maverick never really understood what she meant by it until he started having feelings for you. It was exactly how he felt about you; he needed to just fuck everything and everyone, every obstacle in the way, and take you with him before he could lose you to someone else — which ironically enough, had already happened.

Or so he thought, until the other night.

He had been so fixated on the fact that you were taken so deeply inside of him, that he believed he could never fully have you, that part of your mind would always stay true to Iceman, even if the miracle happened and you broke up with him.

Hearing the drunken words come out of your mouth, so rushed and so painfully angsty, got him hoping you might be getting lost in the same path he’d been since the day you spoke to him for the first time. Drunken words were — in fact — sober thoughts, after all. Not to mention that it was the — what, third? — time he almost got to kiss you. Maverick was not the one to pine after someone, he was used to the exact opposite effect, never having to chase anyone.

He liked having to chase after you, though. He liked to dream up flawless scenarios of you, desperately wanting them to come to life. He liked how much of a dopamine rush he got from those breathless conversations and moments with you. It was hard to resist the urge to keep his feelings buried, opting to play them off as a charismatic, casual flirt — because that was what he’d been used to. That was all he knew.

You liked the way he yearned for you as well. He just made you feel so irresistibly wanted and loved, even if his cockiness never really helped his pure feelings come to light. You were very aware of them though, you were in the same page as him, never mind the fact that for you, it happened as an accident. Sure, a little flirting never hurt anyone — but oh, he was holding your hand (and for some reason you found yourself struggling to breathe steadily.)

In the morning, you woke up wanting to beat yourself to death. You’d been mindless; consuming all that alcohol, getting yourself hammered and ignoring the consequences.

Goose’s words were bloody when he said that Maverick technically had every right to hit on others. Goose’s words teared your heartstrings in pieces and made you conscious of how you’d been accusing everyone else to be a jerk, when in reality, you’d been the only twat in the story.

Maverick probably hated you.

Tom would probably hate you, too.

You tried. Gave it your all — good point to chuckle — to make your relationship with him work, but every time you closed your eyes, your mind betrayed you, unable of getting a certain someone out of the picture. The worst thing was the fact that you didn’t even really care whether Tom would want to cut you off once he found out about the situation you’d been dealing with.

You were frightened of the scenario where Pete stopped caring about you, mostly because it was impossible to imagine. Therefore, you did your best to turn yourself invisible by making up a rushed excuse of being too hungover to properly function at Top Gun, opting to stay home.

Tom respected your decision, wishing you to get well soon as he gave you a sweet kiss goodbye.

“Fuck,” you muttered as you fell back on the couch with a plop. You felt as if hours had passed when a thud on the door startled you. You fumbled to get up, standing unblinking as you opened the door to see Maverick holding a paper bag with both of his hands as he fiddled the heel of his shoe around the floor while chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“Heard Ice say you felt poorly and got you something,” he spoke lowly, reaching his hand out for you to take the item he held. Your lips parted in silent surprise as you hesitantly invited him in. “Look, I know you don’t want to see me, but you might as well say a word, because it’s getting sort of weird.”

“Maverick, what the hell are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d bring you a little something to eat.”

You honestly despised the man. How did he still care about you after you you’d been unable to seal your mouth shut the night before, yammering about mistreating you (mind the irony), you didn’t know. Still, that did not constitute an obstacle for you to lunge forward and fling yourself into his arms, your head hitting against his chest as you encircled his waist tightly. You moved your head a little, stopping dead in your tracks as your ear picked up the sound of his heartbeat violently increasing.

He still had to reach for you, taken aback by your sudden affection and not being sure how to react. Maverick’s brain short-circuited, until everything finally clicked and he was holding you so close to his body, he thought he was squishing the life out of you — but he never heard you complain.

“I’m so sorry, Pete,” you whispered, muffled in the fabric of his shirt. You wanted to say more, apologize for being so ridiculously indecisive and not giving him the chance to move on, instead having him wait until you could grow a pair and end things with Tom, but the words died down in your throat when you felt his fingers tangle in your hair, his palm now cupping the back of your head. He knew you could hear his heartbeat and he also knew it was giving him away.

When you pulled away, your knees buckled and you almost melted into a puddle. His hands had somehow traveled down to your smaller ones, holding them delicately.

Take me to bed or lose me forever.

“It’s a grilled cheese, in case you were wondering, by the way,” Maverick blurted, looking over to the paper bag with the food you’d left on a counter.

“I love it.” I love you.

“I need to get going.”

“No,” you argued, grabbing his hand in yours the moment he reached for the door handle. “Stay here with me. I’m sure Viper’s more than happy that you’re not there to wreck the planes. Goose might be missing you, but he can cry about it to Carole when the day is over.”

Maverick let an amused chuckle escape from his lips as he wrapped his fingers around your wrists, gently rubbing on the skin with his thumbs.

“You want me to stay with you?” he asked in disbelief. It was adorable how flustered he was.

“I’m not repeating anything, Mitchell.”

With a little smirk and a smudge look on his face, he moved toward you, leaning in closer to your lips, which was a scenario you’d accepted, hadn’t he had a sudden change of heart and went for your forehead instead, pressing a long, warm kiss against it that made you shudder under his touch.

“You want me to stay with you,” he chimed, sounding more as if he was bragging to himself.

You tried to stifle a smile as you placed your ear over his drumming heartbeat, already forgetting you had the whole ‘sick from the booze’ act to keep up, but then again, when had you ever been able to hide what you really felt around Maverick?

“We can’t be here though,” you suddenly mouthed, the image of Tom unlocking the door to you and the man he hated snuggling comfortably up on the couch causing sweat to form on the back of your neck as you pushed Maverick away from you and fixed your fingers through your hair.

“Why not?” You gave him a knowing look that made him sigh. “We can’t hide forever, you know.”

Deciding to ignore his comment, you dragged him outside by the hand, nodding where he’d parked his motorcycle. “Cliff tops,” you silently explained and saw the corners of his lips turn upward as he helped you onto the seat.

It seemed to startle him when you wrapped your arms around his middle, laying your face against the fabric of the leather jacket that covered his back, turning his head ever so slightly to look at you with that charming Maverick smirk of his.

Your heart hammered against your chest as he began driving, hair flying carelessly through the wind, leaning further into him and clutching your intertwined hands firmly against his stomach.

Your brain felt as if it was fogged by the light fragrance he was wearing, head nuzzling on his shoulder now, lips moving dangerously close to his cheek. You let them carefully graze his skin, feeling him shudder — or was it just your mind playing tricks on you?

After having arrived at the tops, Maverick got off his motorcycle, lending you his hand to take as he helped you get off as well, shaky, nervous fingers testing the waters as he gently let them linger around yours, waiting for your hand to pull away. Instead, your knuckles tightened, grasp sinking into his, not daring to look up at him for capturing his reaction.

He sat next to you on the hill, so close that the warmth radiating from his outer thigh gave you goosebumps. You shifted just a little, so that your leg could be touching his, eyes darting down on your lap as you crossed your arms.

“It’s beautiful up here. I like how I can consider it our spot now,” you heard Maverick mutter.

“Our spot?”

His head turned to look at you. “Yeah. Ideally, the first time I would’ve liked to bring you here would be a date, but I can settle for the late sneak-out after your fight with Kazansky.”

Your heart clenched as you hesitantly met his cherishing gaze. You hadn’t wanted anyone like that in really long time and it felt like something was sucking the soul out of you. “Maverick?”

“Hm?”

“When you’re flying, you might lose power. It’s a fatal risk, but it doesn’t stop you from enlisting in the Navy. Flying at up to 700 mph, the smallest mistake can be deadly, your plane could plunge out of the sky, break apart on impact. The cockpit is too small, so you’ll feel like your losing your breath even though you might not have died just yet — and it’s all terrifying and out of control.”

Maverick stared blankly at you, waiting for you to make a point. “What are you trying to say?”

“This is exactly how I feel whenever you look at me,” you finally mustered the courage to confess, seeing your lip starting to quiver. Unsure of how to properly weave the complexity of your feelings, you opted to let your pinky softly wrap around his.

Maverick stared at you, jaw slightly hung, eyes gleaming. “You feel that way about me?”

His question came out so shaky and gentle that it worsened your situation of trying not to break down right there in front of him. “Of course I do. You’re so ridiculously insufferable, I hate you.”

He cocked his head to the side with the tiniest hint of a smirk. “But you love flying.”

“I love flying,” you confirmed, letting the rest of your fingers wrap around his hand as you brought it over to your lap, holding it firmly enough to believe that what was happening in that moment was not just a figment of your imagination.

“I love flying, too.”

With hope written all over your face, your mouth stretched into a grin, holding back a giggle. God, when had you turned fourteen all over again?

Right when you were about to say something, you felt his lips ghost above your forehead before he was leaning down just a bit and kissing the bridge of your nose as tenderly as he could, making you dizzy and unable to think straight. Kiss me, kiss me before I regret it, before I start thinking again. He stalled against you, foreheads now touching as he realized that you hadn’t moved away from him yet.

“Take me to bed or lose me forever.”

“What?”

“It’s what Carole says to Goose. Said. I don’t know if she still tells him that. I never got it, to be honest, but all I know is that I don’t want to lose you, Maverick. Never,” you explained breathily.

“You’re not losing me, not even if you want to,” Maverick chuckled, letting a warm puff hit your already very reddened cheeks. You smiled at him, head now moving forward, so that you could nudge the top of his nose with your own.

“Pete,” you whispered, the words coming out as a ghost tugging at his heart. His hands came up to cup your cheeks, bringing you oh so impossibly close to him that if you squinted hard enough, your lips would be touching. And there it was again; that look he’d been giving you ever since the day you met, lovestruck eyes melting into yours. “Drop looking at me like that, Pete.”

“I can’t,” he spoke, voice weary as if he was on the verge of tears. “You walked in the room the first time Viper came in and the breath was knocked out of my lungs the very same second. So, no, I don’t think I can look at you in a way that’s not giving away how deeply head over heels I—”

“Don’t,” you cut him off, stunned by his words. “Don’t continue the sentence, Mav. Don’t continue it, because if you do, I’m going to lose every last ounce of self control I have in my body right now and I should warn you, there’s not much remaining.”

Maverick nodded slowly in acceptance before pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, then deciding to be brave, ducking down just the right direction to kiss the corner of your lips. His palms were still holding onto your cheeks, applying more pressure now as he let his mouth linger, heads connecting. You were about to lose it; all the sanity in your system, all the thoughts of do’s and dont’s. With a slight angle twist, he could be kissing you properly, on the lips, but every cell in your body was sweating to prevent that from happening. It was killing you.

“I love flying so much, Roger. So much that I don’t care if it costs me my life, I’m going to keep pursuing breaking the typical rules and fly on my own. It makes me feel alive,” Maverick confessed.

“You should,” you replied breathlessly. “It’ll get you places, Pete. You can hold your own.”

“Take me to bed,” he whispered, loud enough so that you heard him, a small smirk creeping up against the — now flushed from the kiss — corners of your lips.

“Or lose me forever.”

tags:

@holishol

@honeymvnt

[strawberry-cowmilk]

Here's the other one! Selective mute lover mc (separately again) who hasn't actually spoken a word to the boyfriend, when the bf has the worst day says "I love you" verbally (Lucifer, diavolo, barbatos and Simeon, ((again if you want beel and Satan((I feel like Satans would be specifically cute since you know he's wrath and going near him when he's ANGRY is dangerous))

Hi, welcome back! I'm doing the same format as before if that's okay. Enjoy!

Mc tells them they love them after a rough day

-> lucifer, barbatos, diavolo, simeon, satan and beelzebub x mc

important: I am no expert on selective mutism, if I mess anything up, let me know

mc's gender is not mentioned, not proof read

content warnings: drinking in lucifer's part, (mild??) violence and screaming mentions in satan's part

-----

Lucifer

lucifer has had bad days, but never like this

some last minute important paperwork came up, asmo and mammon accidentally destroyed the potions lab, the house has a leak in the bathroom and beel ate the router again, guess who's paying for all the damage

lucifer flopped into his office chair, completely filling up a wine glass

that was when you walked in, the first thing you did was take the alcohol away from him

he felt terrible, drinking is in no way a coping mechanism, he should have known better

just as lucifer was about to apologise, an 'I love you' came out of you

this man is so proud of you, enjoy your week of being spoiled

Diavolo

today was a day filled with meetings with the driest devildom nobles

also there was a lot of paperwork due this same day, plus rad needs a new potions lab since it got destroyed by two clowns who mixed every substance together

in short: the day was filled with stress

when diavolo came home after the 3am meeting, he went straight to bed

the prince didn't even greet barbatos or chance his clothes, just hopped under the sheets right away

you were chilling in the same bed before, though, and jumpscare aside, you could tell diavolo was unhappy

you tried your very best to get over the anxiety and told him you loved him

diavolo carefully held you, you made his night better

Barbatos

barbatos is proud of the flawless work he always manages to do, but today wasn't his day

he accidentally knocked a vase over and burned dinner, making the smoke alarms go off

although diavolo insisted everything is fine, it didn't feel like that for barbatos

the butler was clearly mad at himself for messing so many easy tasks up in the same day

you want him to feel better, so you went over to him to just spend time by his side

and eventually you got the courage to say you love him

it seems like all negativity evaporated from barbatos, he knew you loved him but hearing you verbally say it, he's so proud

'I love you too, dear'

Simeon

there was a lot of drama going on in the celestial realm for a while, so simeon had to go up there

and when he came back to purgatory hall, he found out solomon had cooked food while luke was taking a nap

simeon acted like everything was okay, but on the inside he was screaming and fighting

hopefully tomorrow will be better, right?

little did he know you were going to make the rest of the day better

before he went to bed, simeon went to the house of lamentation to wish you good night and to see you because trust me after the drama of the day, he needs to see his favorite human

it was really quiet, but simeon's pretty sure he heard you say 'I love you'

he's so happy! but he knows that was probably really hard for you, he'll stay the night if you want

Satan

the rad professor put him and lucifer together to work on the next project, the cat cafe was closed and he dropped the book he was reading in the toilet

satan can be really good at keeping his anger under control, but the amount of things that went wrong today was too much

he went to his room, closed the door and started throwing stuff in all directions

when you were walking past his door with levi, you could hear the noises from inside

levi was too scared to go in, but you were worried, so you opened the door

satan was about to scream at you for coming in, since he could have hurt you, but he didn't in fear of scaring you

he sat on the floor, head in hands when you approached him and told him 'I love you'

every drop of anger vanished, he'll thank you for stepping out of your comfort zone for him

Beelzebub

it was a lot of small stuff that piled up

first, he couldn't find belphie for a good while in the morning, then the rad cafeteria was closed, later at akudonald's the ice cream machine was broken, also the sole of his shoe came off randomly and it rained the whole time during sport practise

he just wanted to go home and eat in peace on his bed

you were with him the whole day, actually, you saw everything go wrong

poor beel doesn't show it but he's annoyed to the max right now

you really want to comfort him, but how? time to leave the comfort zone

beel thought he imagined it at first, but smiled widely when he realised you actually said you love him

he tries his best to not squeeze you too hard when hugging

[anonnie-in-wonderland]

Call Me Crazy...

Rating: T

 Word Count:11.8k 

 Warning(s): anxiety/anxious thoughts, near panic attacks, injury, but also beware the fluff for it is potent

 Summary: When Y/N gets her hands on the newest Samsung phone, she thinks at most she’ll get a little clout with her friends and fewer dropped calls. A direct portal to BTS? Not so much.

 Genre(s): Strangers to Friends to Lovers| Crack Treated Seriously| Fluff| Comedy| Romance| Magical Realism

 Tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | poly| FM!POC!reader

 Ch.3:  Don’t Hold Your Breath for a Break

A/N: Hiiii, sorry I’ve been away for so long. 🥺 Life has been pretty stressful. But, I’m back now, new chapter, whoo! I have had this on my mind for a while now, and finally got the chance to incorporate it into this chapter~ I really do hope you enjoy the arrival of the next BTS member to show up, whose dynamics with Y/N are already among my favorites. Also, always feel free to chat with me about this fic if you’d like, I don’t bite and thrive on the engagement! 🤗 I wanna know if anyone wants to guess what is going on or has figured it out yet. This chapter is especially dedicated to the blog who had a super easy tutorial on how to keep your formatting from google docs to tumblr!! Saved me a lot of time. Hehe *PLEASE do not ask about the taglist in this story’s comments*

In the days that followed, Y/N completely fell down a rabbit hole. It felt prudent to look more into BTS, or more specifically, Park Jimin. From a strictly legal perspective and nothing more.

 After all, she was sure his attorneys would be sending a court summons any day now just as soon as they managed to find out her identity and track her down. It was something she lived in fear of.

 Binna was none-the-wiser that the reason she suddenly seemed so attentive about the band’s recent lives was because she wanted to know if they’d mentioned anything. Any clues that would tell Y/N when her days as a free person were coming to an end. 

Honestly, she hadn’t found much. Nothing that would be helpful in allowing her to participate in her own legal defense. Speaking of that, could she even afford an attorney that would be able to stand up against Park Jimin’s? She was sure a global superstar would have the best in the country.

Y/N listlessly scrolled through yet more photos of Jimin—looking for hidden meanings in the recent videos the group had posted was starting to make her feel like she was overreacting at best and paranoid at worst. 

There were pictures of him with a variety of hair colors and outfits, taken over time, and he was flawless in all of them. Even ones she came across where he wasn’t glammed out in full makeup made it obvious he was just one of the lucky ones, naturally born attractive. 

“How many wardrobe malfunctions can one person have throughout their career?” Y/N found herself muttering, spying yet another photo where Jimin’s fancy jacket was sliding down his arm. “Is he allergic to keeping his shirt on his shoulders?”

Though, given how many fan compilations existed that compiled every single moment where Jimin’s shirt or jacket hadn’t quite managed to stay all the way on, it didn’t seem like there were many complaints. Army was swooning and swooning hard if anything. 

But really, being sued within an inch of her life wasn’t even the worst part about it all. If someone saw the “notes” section of her phone, they’d have her committed first, and ask questions later. She’d have her committed, under normal circumstances.

 Because what she had experienced not once, but twice? It went against everything she stood for. Logical, grounded, a firm believer in science and fact. Facts didn’t support phenomena like getting sucked through a mirror and ending up in an idol’s dance studio. 

Facts didn’t support seeing the face of another idol—because she now knew the reason the man in the mirror looked vaguely familiar was because he was another BTS member, Seokjin—instead of her own reflection when she went to brush her teeth. It just…didn’t make sense. 

Science couldn’t support it. It was nuts. Yet it happened to her. And that was the only reason she believed it. Too bad no one else would. Or worse, if and when Jimin announced he’d be pressing charges for assault, and she had confessed beforehand to someone…it would probably be taken as evidence the attack was premeditated.

 Sure, they’d have to prove how she got in. But…but still! She couldn’t risk it. Wouldn’t. Which meant her phone was her only safe secret-keeper. They were co-conspirators in it all. 

Speaking of the damned cursed thing… trying to outright return it hadn’t worked, even though she had the receipt and everything! She still remembered the bizarre events that day.

Y/N was almost out of breath by the time she entered the phone store, embarrassingly worked up in front of the few strangers milling around inside. She got a few curious, side-long glances, and then they went back to perusing the inventory.

“Welcome!” Called an employee already speaking to other customers. “Someone will assist you shortly.”

Y/N gave a short, affirmative nod, trying not to come off anxious as she glanced around. Everything looked…the same as the night she had bought the phone. Shiny new models on display, the monitor above their heads playing a loop of advertisements for different Samsung products, and everything neatly put away and organized. Absently, she began to think over the store’s layout, and the fact that it could have a strong subconscious effect on the consumer. Organization of inventory could actually play a role in whether or not someone wanted to buy something.

But, putting that aside, the store didn’t look like the kind of place that would sell someone a phone that would ruin their life. Looks could be deceiving, though. Who knew what was actually afoot?

“Oh, can I help you, miss?” A middle-aged woman wearing the store’s polo top came over with a tag that said her name was Hayoung asked in an attentive tone.

Y/N was quick to nod. “I’m here to make a return, actually. I bought a phone from your store not long ago.”

“Was the item not to your liking?” Hayoung asked, guiding her over to an available station.

The university student glanced down at the phone in question, which she’d placed back in the original purchase box. “You could…say that.” She mumbled. “I’ve thought about it, and I really don’t need anything even half this fancy.” Telling the woman she thought the phone might have it in for her was out of the question. “So I’d like to exchange it for something simpler.”

Hayoung dutifully accepted the box, scanning the barcode and then lifting up the lid. Y/N had anticipated a smooth return in which she’d flash her receipt, maybe some ID, and have the exchange completed in no time. But when Hayoung’s brow furrowed, she knew she wouldn’t like whatever the saleswoman was going to say.

“Is…is something wrong?”

“Well,” she paused, “Are you sure you purchased your phone here? From this store? I know we’ve had models similar to this in stock before, but this one’s just not ringing up.”

“Really?” Y/N shook her head, rummaging around in her purse. “I don’t see how that could be. I have the receipt if that helps…” 

She then proceeded to go through her small purse, searching the exact spot she knew she had folded and placed the receipt. “Um, hold on a minute please,” Hayoung waited expectantly as Y/N kept looking, growing increasingly more frustrated as she turned the contents of her purse inside out hunting for the receipt. 

No, no way was she ever that careless. She had made sure she put it into her purse before leaving the apartment, and she didn’t exactly care that much in it to begin with! It was all zipped up tight, so how could it have fallen out?!

It took several more long, awkward moments of searching futilely in vein for her to realize it was true. The receipt was no where to be found. Trying to fight down the flush of defeat crossing her cheeks, Y/N cleared her throat, speaking diplomatically, “I’m sorry, I don’t seem to have my receipt on hand after all. I guess I’ll just…try to search it out and return when I do.”

“Oh, there’s no need. Our system can search for and find the purchase if you happen to have the card on hand.”

Y/N wanted to slump over in defeat, “Actually my friend bought it…”

“Oh,” Hayoung tilted her head, “Do you happen to know the account number used?”

Y/N mentally wondered if Binna was free. She shouldn’t be in class right now, right? So it would be okay to quickly give her a call and get this sorted out. She had to leave the store without this phone. That was a must!

 “H-Hold on please!” It was a little embarrassing, snatching the phone she had been trying to return from its box and powering it on. In anticipation of making the return, Y/N had thought to wipe it and remove the SIM card chip, but then recalled hearing it was best to do that at the store when the transaction was complete, in case there was something forgotten on the phone that still needed to be retrieved.

Hastily scrolling down the admittedly short contacts’ list, Y/N located Binna’s number and pressed the button to dial. The phone rang three times, and she anxiously tapped her foot as she waited to see if her friend would pick up. ‘Please, Bin. Come on. Please.’

Of course, as it always was when she needed something to work out, it didn’t quite go smoothly. Binna hadn’t picked up, and she had ended up ending the call right before it switched to voice mail. Typing out a text message asking for the information she needed, Y/N had glared spitefully down at the phone.

“Do you recall the name of the clerk who sold you the phone?” Hayoung asked gently. 

Y/N thought it over, the sales associate’s face floating to mind. “Yes, his name was Suk-kyu.”

“Hmm, that name doesn’t sound familiar.” Hayoung shook her head. “I’ve been employed here three years and never heard anyone go by that name,”

It was unlike her, but Y/N felt she was entitled to a bit of out of character behavior when her jaw actually dropped. “You’re kidding…”

But, Hayoung assured her, she was not. She didn’t think they had ever carried the exclusive Army Edition of the phone. She didn’t know who Suk-kyu was, and Y/N couldn’t find her receipt, the only bit of evidence that might have been able to successfully lift the burden of the phone from her person. She had left the store, apologizing for wasting the patient woman’s time, and feeling like she was at least partially going crazy. 

Needless to say, Y/N had been…anxious about the phone since then. A bit scared, even. A fear she had no choice but to shoulder in silence for the time being. There wasn’t much she could do but continue searching high and low for the receipt and hope it turned up soon.

 In the meantime, she didn’t let on that anything was wrong, using the phone like before, though limiting that to when it was really necessary. No more playing around with it or downloading apps. Nope, she didn’t want to risk getting too attached to the thing. 

The only thing she did besides make calls was research. Things she never would have thought about looking up before. Like, unexplained phenomena with electronics, most of which led to completely wild conspiracy theories or dead ends.

Y/N had been so engrossed in breaking her brain over what to do, she jumped when the apartment door swung open, turning around on the coach to see Binna march in, a few grocery bags in her hands. Keys in her mouth, she gently kicked the door closed, humming to herself until she happened to look up and spot Y/N.

“Oh!” Binna hustled into the small kitchen to set her bags down, then her keys. “Y/N, didn’t expect to see you here right now. You’ve got class today, right?”

“It was canceled…” she sighed, sliding down the couch cushions and placing her phone on the coffee table. “The professor’s out sick with the flu.”

Binna winced in sympathy. “Yikes, poor guy…”

“Yeah,” Y/N took great care not to get sick, so she hadn’t so much as had a cold in years, but she still remembered times when she was a child in bed with chills, body aches and a fever. Once she had even had pneumonia, her mother forced to call out from work and nurse her back to health. “He just wanted us to go over the assignment we’ve been working on since the start of the semester. You know, take this as independent study time basically. But…”

“Buuut, knowing you,” Binna smiled, “You’ve already taken the initiative and gotten a head start a long time ago, so you’re ahead of everyone else.”

“Done, actually,” Y/N confirmed, not afraid to admit to her efficiency. 

Her roommate made a noise of encouragement as she began to put the groceries away. It didn’t look like much. A loaf of bread, some bottles of sauce they’d been running low on, some eggs and a carton of milk.

 “That’s great, since it actually kind of works out. Chin-Mae and Min Su invited me to check out this new steak house that just opened up. I heard reservations are booked out for weeks already, but thanks to Min Su’s connections, we can go this evening. What do you say?” Binna wiggled her eyebrows, trying to entice Y/N. 

“Alright, I’m in,” she agreed.

“Because I’m sure they won’t mind adding just one more to our party, especially if that person is you…” Binna continued to ramble.

“Bin, did you hear me?” Y/N clucked, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I said I’m in.”

Eyes round as the eggs she had put away, Binna blinked, nodded, and finally broke out into an ear to ear grin. “Oh, wow, that’s new. I m-mean not that it isn’t great you wanna join us, but…”

“What?” Y/N felt a little defensiveness creeping up on her, and she probably didn’t do the best job completely hiding it from her tone. “You made the invite, and you said Min Su and Chin-Mae would be fine with it. Did you not…really want me to come along?”

They thought she would kill the mood, the nasty little whisper entered her head unbidden. They thought she was so stuffy and boring.

“What, Y/N, no!” Binna immediately denied, “I’m really glad you can make it,” she shot over to the couch, wrapping her arms around her friend’s neck from behind as she bent over for the hug. “It’s true you normally put up a little more resistance when we ask you to come somewhere. You stay so busy, so I was a little surprised is all. But I’m glad you’re agreeing.”

Y/N’s tense shoulders relaxed, and she mentally sighed to herself, feeling silly. Of course, of course her friends wanted her there. And this was Binna, who struggled to have a bad thought about anybody. Secretly resentful definitely wasn’t her style. 

But with the stress she had been under, and the dread she’d done her best not to give into, Y/N could admit her nerves had been on edge. “Yeah, sorry about that…” she laughed weakly, reaching up and patting one of the arms looped around her neck. “I don’t know where that came from, but I’m happy to eat a little steak if Min Su’s recommending it.” The man had the best luck finding good places to eat, or stores that sold exactly what you were looking for but probably overlooked. 

“Good girl,” Binna uncoiled her arms and leaned back against the couch itself. “That’s the spirit. And hey, I heard from some of the girls in the campus’ BTS fan club that one of the guys on campus might be related to one of the waiters who might have catered the food on the set of a music video for Taehyung!”

She said it in a breathy squeal, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile indulgently. She was almost sure she knew which one Taehyung was, but she still wouldn’t put money on it. It might just as soon be someone else. Maybe Namjoon? 

She’d gotten more familiar with their names but as most of her time perusing videos and photos had been spent investigating Jimin, she wasn’t entirely sure on the others’ faces. Well, besides Jin and J-Hope. 

“Nice,” she said, letting Binna get all her gushing out as she texted Chin-Mae just to make sure it really was okay if she tagged along. Stupid to be anxious about feeling unsure if everyone really wanted her to come, but better to be safe than sorry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was impressed the minute they walked through the door. Min Su stopped trying to sneak an arm around Chin-Mae’s waist and immediately went over to talk to the maître d. The two men spoke cordially, the head waiter confirmed their reservation, and then they were led to their table with a flourish. 

Binna was practically bouncing on her heels, squealing under her breath. “Can you believe this place?” she whispered excitedly, “I feel like a movie star, coming here.”

The restaurant was definitely lavish, so she understood where her friend was coming from. The tables were polished stained oak, and lit by a candle to provide ambiance, and the floors were a gorgeous brown tile that Y/N suspected to be marble. 

The restaurant was done in a mixture of black, gold with high beam wood ceilings and low atmospheric lighting. They walked past a bar, long and oval, with shimmering glasses the team of bartender would pull down as they did impressive tricks to wow the gathered guests. 

“It’s one of the hottest spots in Gangnam right now,” Chin-Mae commented as they sat down. The table comfortably fit the four of them, and everyone got settled as a young woman hurried over, handing them menus and introducing herself. 

“This is so cool,” Binna exclaimed, still wiggling in place. She shook Y/N’s arm. She was all done up with some icy blue eye shadow that matched her aqua dress, and a more subtle plum shade of lipstick. 

Her hair was secured in a complicated twist by a pin she recognized from the last time they had gone shopping together. Y/N adjusted the shawl draped over her shoulders, pulling down her own strapless dress. Binna had helped her pick accessories, which were mostly shades of amber or gold, and apply some light makeup. 

Y/N chuckled, nodding as she scanned the menu, trying her best to ignore the listed prices. She had come fully prepared to pay her own way, but Min Su insisted the meal was going to be on him. It must have been nice.

 The perks of being from an affluent family, she supposed. The guy was already well on his way to being a successful lawyer, following the family tradition. He had moved all the way from his hometown in China to come and work on his master’s degree at one of the top universities in Korea, just for a change of pace. “Thanks again for letting us crash your date night, guys.” Binna beamed.

“Please,” Chin-Mae scoffed lightly, not looking up from his menu. “What was I supposed to do all evening? Talk to him?”

Min Su pouted, but it didn’t diminish the fond glow in his eyes as he leaned over his boyfriend’s shoulder and whispered something in his ear that gave Chin-Mae pause.

 Their friend cut a sharp look at his partner, smacking his thigh and then proceeding to ignore the man who was happily leaning into him and commenting on the menu. Yeah, nothing new there. Min Su was totally gone on Chin-Mae, as always.

 There was nothing about Chin-Mae’s bluntness or dismissive attitude in public that ever put him off. If anything, the mean behavior only served to make Min Su try harder. Though, she and Binna both knew Chin-Mae wouldn’t be with someone this long if he wasn’t just as serious about them.

 He was just a straight shooter, raised in a family that wasn’t completely accepting of who he was, and unfortunately awkward and out of his depth about how to handle someone as affectionate and doting as the man he happened to fall in love with.

 They were well suited in that regard. Min Su was patient and persistent enough to shower Chin-Mae in all the attention he needed to overcome the lingering doubts about being worthy of such deep love and devotion. 

Y/N was perfectly fine, pursuing the path she was. Career goals first, everything else second. But sometimes, watching them, a little envy did ignite.

 It must have been nice to find something like that, and she was truly happy for them. It didn’t seem likely she’d have time in the near future to go out and chase it for herself, of course. And she wasn’t really worried about it. 

“So, what’ll it be for you guys?” Y/N cleared her throat, interrupting the warm and cozy silence they’d all been existing in.

“Ohh, I think I’m gonna have the smoked chicken and spinach salad, and a side of the fried mushrooms,” Binna announced, tongue poking out in concentration as her finger followed where the items she wanted were on the menu.

“You’re going so easy on him.” Chin-Mae remarked. “I’m getting the iron skillet trout,” he squinted, leaning further into the menu. Min Su only smiled, plucking the reading glasses from Chin Mae’s breast pocket that he had forgotten to put on and placing them on his face for him.

 The absent-minded pat he got on the hand for it made the law student’s whole face light up. “And the chicken fried steak. That okay, babe?” He might not have looked it, exactly, but Chin-Mae had a healthy appetite. And if they were coming to such an exclusive restaurant for the first time, it wasn’t surprising he wouldn’t be keen to hold back.

Min Su was nodding encouragingly before Chin-Mae had even fully gotten the question out of his mouth. “And what about you, Y/N?”

She clammed up slightly, having been looking at the menu, mentally ruling out what seemed too expensive, or wasn’t quite her taste. “Uh, the pot roast sounds like a filling entree.”

“And?” Chin-Mae prodded, interlocking his hands together and leaning on them.

“And nothing,” Y/N shook her head. “It comes with two sides, that’s more than enough.”

“Boo,” Her friend hissed dramatically. “Fine. If neither one of you is going to take advantage of this, then I guess it’s up to me.”

Their waitress returned with a tray of drinks at precisely that moment, and as she set them down in front of the correct person, everyone began telling her their orders, which she jotted down without missing a beat.

 Only Min Su had actually ordered any steak, but, given the price of a 24 oz there was just no way she felt comfortable doing that to the poor guy, even if he was a good sport about it and more than capable of handling a large bill. 

As they sat, sipping their champagne and waiting on the food, something Y/N had been putting off thinking about started floating through her mind. Ever since the whole Jimin fiasco, despite her deep diving and frantic searching, nothing had turned up that indicated anyone was coming after her. 

But she just wasn’t willing to believe she’d gotten away that easily. She almost killed a celebrity. And, due to that, she’d really wanted to seek legal advice from Min Su, under the guise of some far-fetched hypothetical, of course. Her friends weren’t onto her, and she couldn’t give them a reason to be. 

She just had to find a way to casually broach the topic…

“Oh,” Binna gasped from her side, drawing the whole table’s attention to herself. She was carefully scrolling her phone with a freshly manicured nail, scowling slightly. It was so rare that Binna displayed any actual disdain, it had Y/N a bit curious. 

“What’s wrong, Bin?”

“It’s nothing,” she replied immediately, then paused. “Well it’s not nothing but, it’s just…I really wished we lived in a world that respected idols as people, you know? Some people call themselves fans and act like famous people aren’t allowed to have any boundaries.” She then went on to describe how there’d been another sasaeng incident reported on a news site she followed to keep up with celebrity gossip. 

Apparently, it was a pretty serious one, and crazed ‘fans’ had attacked an actress a well-known idol was reported to be dating. Her bodyguard had fended them off, but the actress still went to the hospital with some injuries. 

Y/N perked up slightly, but Min Su and Chin-Mae were thankfully too engrossed in listening to Binna rant to notice. It would be much easier to bring up her question using the information Binna had just provided them as a pretext.

 It was about time she had a stroke of good luck. Stopping to think it over, Y/N cringed. Not that she wasn’t sympathetic to the poor woman who had been harmed because of someone’s delusions. But it just…presented an opportunity she had to take, and….

‘Oh, why am I trying to rationalize it to myself?! I should just ask the question before the subject changes.’

 That decided, she opened her mouth and spoke, doing her best to make it seem as casual as possible. “So Min Su, you’re practically a lawyer. What kind of charges could that person face? Attacking a celebrity and inflicting bodily harm isn’t the same as harassing them for a photo.”

 Y/N silently patted herself on the back, sitting from her glass with an expression carefully schooled to look only mildly interested. Inside was another matter. She was rocking back in forth, heart hammering and eyes wide, waiting for an answer with baited breath.

“Hmm, well, I’ve mostly studied corporate law.” He admitted, playing with a ring on his index finger, “But I do know that given the severity, it’s likely both the actress and the company she’s represented under will press charges. Things are also moving faster these days, prosecuting people who do things like that.” 

Y/N swallowed, eyes fixated on Min Su’s thoughtful expression. “There were also witnesses, so it’s very likely to result in a conviction.” Yes, there had been a witness in her case too. Well, J-Hope had only seen her fleetingly. Maybe. Hopefully not. But if she was on any camera then…it was most definitely over for her.

 “The court could go light on them if it was a first offense…they might be sentenced to a large fine and community service…” Okay, Y/N thought. It would probably drain her savings, but it was still possible to bounce back and have a future, right? She could still put it in the past and become a CEO one day, right?! “Then again, it was a premeditated attack. Jail time is also a strong possibility.”

Her heart sank back down to her feet. Jail. What successful CEO in Korea had been to jail before graduating, and for assaulting an idol no less. 

‘I. Am. Done.’

“What’s the matter, Y/N?” Binna giggled, “You look like you smelled a rotten egg. But I guess hearing about how far some crazy people will go is pretty disgusting, isn’t it? I don’t think I’ll have much sympathy for them, whatever happens.”

“…Yeah…” Y/N said once her words came unstuck. That was another thing. Her sweet friend was going to think she was a criminal. She had known Binna since high school, having shared a homeroom class with her. They were vague acquaintances then, friendly enough to speak from time to time but by no means close enough to hang out between classes or after school. 

In fact, admittedly, Y/N used to wonder if Binna’s perky personality was just an act. It had to be, in her cynical rationalizing, because who was really that upbeat, in high school? 

Later on, she would realize she was just projecting, and once she stopped doing that was when she truly came to appreciate Binna for all that she was, steadfast and supportive. Although they didn’t become close, didn’t become friends, until meeting at orientation when arriving at Korea University. 

“They knew the consequences before they did it.” Chin-Mae joined in, swishing the last of his champagne around before drinking it down. “It’s stupid to think your life won’t be impacted when you run wild like that.”

Except, Y/N wanted to wail. She hadn’t known. She wasn’t a sasaeng, and she knew she had assaulted someone but at the same time she hadn’t really done anything wrong. Except maybe buy a cursed magical phone, that somehow was behind all this.

…Yeah, she’d just keep that thought to herself. 

“Well,” Y/N smiled, “Thanks for giving your input.” She told Min Su, who nodded, humming with a cheerful ‘no problem’.

A cartoony chime went off, and Binna groaned as she stared down at her phone, “Nooo,” she sighed, sounding truly remorseful. “Right now?”

“What’s happening?” Chin-Mae raised a brow.

“Jimin is going live!” She whined, “And normally I’d watch but I’m having such a great time with all of you, and I don’t want to be rude…”

“It’s fine, go ahead.” Y/N said, forcing a smile. “We know how addicted to that stuff you are.” Really, she wanted the floor to swallow her into the abyss. She knew the minute she heard that sound what was going on. If her phone had been turned on, they would have heard the same noise coming from her purse too.

She had made an account on several apps BTS often broadcasted their lives to, and set an alert for just that occasion. There were a couple of false alarms she hadn’t tuned into once she saw they weren’t from the person she was basically stalking at this point. But this was it. The big moment. 

He hadn’t done a solo live since the accident…but Binna said his members had mentioned that he had a small accident while practicing and was recovering well. 

All of Army was behind him, sending him tons of well wishes from all over the world. It was sweet, but she wondered how fast they would turn if they knew she was behind their beloved idol’s injuries. 

“Yeah, what Y/N said,” Chin-Mae rolled his eyes. “Check on your man,” he joked.

Binna giggled, flashing them a cute heart. “He’s not my man,” she replied playfully, “I’d have to get in line for that. Plus, I’m really more of an OT7, you know? It’s really hard to stick with one bias.”

 Nonetheless, when she began to watch, since Y/N couldn’t exactly whip out her phone and do the same without raising suspicion, she subtly leaned closer to at least listen.

Of course, Binna was always more astute than she let on. “Oh, did you wanna see too?” She angled the screen so they could both see before Y/N even had the chance to protest. 

And the live was just starting, the exact same idol she had seen what felt like a lifetime ago was sitting in a room by himself. It looked like he was on a couch, legs crossed, looking small in his soft oversized sweater and giving the camera a cute wave. “Hi, everyone,” his sweet voice said. “Thank you for waiting on me!”

Gushing comments poured in, cheering him and welcoming him back, asking him what he’d been up to, and telling him he looked good. Jimin tilted his head, a coy, secretive smile appearing on his shiny lips. Y/N couldn’t tell if he was wearing gloss or if they always looked like that.

 She had been a bit too preoccupied the one and only time she had the opportunity to see them in person. He had dyed his hair a different color, though. It was now a shade of strawberry blonde that complimented his angelic features well.

 “Well, I haven’t been up to much. Just resting, really.” he explained. “Even on days when I felt better and tried to join practices, the members just shooed me away.” He laughed. “Oh, but look at this!” He reached down, his head dipping out of screen for a minute, popping up seconds later holding a little pot. “Taehyung got me this ‘get well’ plant!” He showed them a cute little sapling.

Binna cooed, Y/N glancing at her then refocusing on his words. Who knew when a hidden meaning would pop up.

“I don’t know how well I’ll be able to take care of it; I’m not sure if I have a green thumb. But I’ll try my best!”

Comments came pouring in again, people saying he was going to enter his plant dad era, because collecting succulents could be addicting.

 Other people gushed at the sweetness of the VMin friendship, whatever that was, and yet more people reminded Jimin that he looked really good. Yet one comment in particular seemed to catch his eye, and he squinted, seemingly intrigued. 

“Hmm? You wish you were a plant so I could take care of you?” He repeated. “You don’t have to be a plant for me to want to take care of you.” The statement was very matter-of-fact, “You’re Army. I’ll always watch over Army.”

Binna sounded like she released a tiny sniffle. “Is he not just the sweetest?” She asked, nudging Y/N a bit. “Since you’re new to BTS, have you chosen a bias yet?”

Y/N wished she could tell her the real reason behind her sudden interest, but that was kind of out of the question. “No, not yet…”

“Y/N’s a BTS fan now?” Chin-Mae asked, “Since when?”

“Pretty recent.” Binna replied.

Y/N was only half listening to her friends, mostly focusing on Jimin’s chatter. Someone was still insisting they wanted to be his plant, and he looked nothing short of amused. 

“Okay, if you insist. Should I start a garden then?” He asked his fans. Y/N watched, stunned, as his bright eyes narrowed into a practiced and very effective smolder. She had seen it in pictures before, but in real time it was really something else, “It’ll be full of so many pretty flowers, and you’ll all bloom just for me, right?” The heady purr of his words sent a shocked shiver right down her spine. 

Binna swooned, while Y/N felt her breath hitch. ‘What… the…hell…was that?!’ A flirty throwaway line like that had never had that effect on her before.

 But then, thinking back, he had flirted with her in the dance studio too. She’d just been too worried to pay attention. Clearly, the man was an old hand at the art of duality, going from wholesome to heathen in five seconds flat. That was…dangerous. 

Binna seemed to already know how she felt, leaning into her with a sigh. “That, Y/N, is what happens when Jimin turns from angel to demon.” Her friend explained. “I’d say you’ll get used to it, but odds are you probably won’t.”

Jimin then went back to amicably speaking to everyone, as if he hadn’t just teased fans within an inch of their lives. The conversation moved on, and he was speaking about upcoming projects he was excited about or a funny habit that he had noticed in his band member. All normal, non-threatening stuff. Y/N was almost thinking she could relax. Almost. 

“What? You want to tell me a secret?” Jimin was reading another comment. “Okay, I’m listening…”

Y/N quirked a brow at the comment. “Sometimes I dream about you.” it read.

The idol grinned, replying casually. “Sometimes I miss Army so much I end up thinking about all of you in the middle of the day.” Y/N’s blood ran cold as he looked intensely at the screen. “It’s almost like you’re there…”

That was it. The sign she was waiting for! He was talking to her. 

“I…” Y/N stumbled to her feet, startling Binna. “Need the bathroom, I’ll be back.”

“Oh, okay.” Her friend said slowly, setting down her phone. “Is anything wrong? You don’t…look so good suddenly.”

‘You wouldn’t either in my shoes,’ she thought miserably. ‘Park Jimin is going to sue me within an inch of my life.’

“It’s alright,” she held a hand to her stomach, selling the illusion of sudden nausea. “Just…lady problems.” She said lamely.

Poor Binna didn’t even question it; she nodded, eyes full of sympathy. “Well text if you need anything.” She squeezed Y/N’s hand. “I’ve got a few extra tampons in my purse.” she whispered discreetly. Really, Binna was too good of a friend for her. 

Y/N rounded the corner in a hurry, blindly guessing where the bathrooms might be located. She passed their waitress, rolling out a cart that she was pretty sure contained their meals. Everything looked delicious, and of course she couldn’t even enjoy the great evening Min Su had generously provided. All because she was screwed. 

She hustled into a bathroom as fancy as the rest of the steak house, and so spacious there would probably be an echo. She hustled over to the sink, activating the handless system by shoving her trembling fingers under it. As she splashed her face with warm water, the dread twisting up her stomach gave way to deja vu. 

‘This is just like…the event at the internship.’ The wild day that would be the beginning of the end of her life. Removing her hands from the water, she gently pressed the pad of her thumb up to her eye, tapping it a few times.

 Her makeup was well done, but it still felt like she could see bags. ‘At least it can’t get worse.’ She assumed. After all, what was worse than this? The dumb phone was put away in her clutch, turned off, and back at the table.

 The very least she could do was fake a smile so she didn’t ruin everyone’s meal, and enjoy what might be her last chance to experience this. They probably didn’t serve many steakhouse dinners where she was going. 

That thought firmly in mind, Y/N squared her shoulders and prepared to march back out, tightly gripping her clutch at her side. Wait, her clutch?!

Binna must have handed it over to her, assuming she might need it. She had said to text if she needed anything, and Y/N couldn’t exactly do that without a phone. Well, at least it was off. Y/N wasn’t totally sure what kind of phenomenon had disrupted her life, but it all started with that phone. 

No sooner had she backed away from the mirror than a wave of dizziness overtook her, sending her keeling forward. Instinctively, she clutched the sink to maintain her balance, almost screaming out when she looked up as the dizzy feeling passed. 

The mirror in front of her was the same as always, a reflection of her wide, mortified eyes. But the long glossy mirror that made up the entire wall of the bathroom at the entrance of the restroom? 

A reflection of another room, just like before. “No…” she whispered, not ready to admit that it was happening again. What was worse? All of it being real, or her losing her mind? “Not again…!”

She clenched her eyes shut, then attempted to get her feet moving. She would keep her head down and hurry right on past, to the exit. That was the plan at least. And she was making good progress to move without falling over in her modest heels, but the minute she actually got closer to the mirrors, a strange feeling overwhelmed her. 

Almost like a compulsion to stop. Y/N felt like she was watching a scene in a movie, watching a victim wander down the hall of a haunted house, towards the homicidal attacker lying in wait.

 Her feet were making her move on her own! Her fingertips reached out, and yet she had no control. She had to touch the mirror, see if that room on the other side was real. But deep down, she knew the answer before her fingers made contact.

It was a strange emotion somewhere between surprise resignation when she wobbled onto a floor that was not marble and found her eyes darting around a room that was not the steak house. 

Pressing against the mirror desperately, she confirmed what a large part of her had assumed. There was no give to the mirror, apparently no way back from the time being. Was she even still in Gangnam?

Her senses were feeding her all kinds of information, and frankly, it was starting to overwhelm her. The raw scents of sweat, male musk, and ammonia could only mean one thing, and it was further proven when she peered around the blind corner of a painted brick wall, only to see two people exercising. 

Well, one was doing stretches, and with the way he hopped up, he had just finished. An older man in a tank top and sweats had pads strapped to his hands, and Y/N watched closely, not even daring to breathe, as the younger man sat down and laced boxing gloves onto his taped hands. 

He stood up, and who she assumed was his trainer got into a defensive stance while the younger man hopped around nimbly. Y/N watched, wide-eyed as they began to train, the guy in the black hoodie practicing blocking, jabbing and dodging.

 It was clear he had put a lot of dedication into this. Y/N was never much of a sports person, but she knew the result of hard-work when she saw it. His moves were fluid, and instead of slowing down, they got quicker the more he went at it. 

Somehow, it never felt like a good time to draw their attention to herself, go wobbling over in her dinner attire, and ask for directions back to the High Tower SteakHouse. She had a few other options, of course, like calling Binna. Or maybe Chin-Mae…but how did she explain it? 

She had gone to the restroom for a few minutes and wound up in a completely different location without leaving the restaurant?! Then again, it meant they would really have no choice but to believe her. 

It was impossible for her to have gone anywhere far when they all saw her leave for the bathroom. Maybe she could sneak out while they were distracted and then call when she was outside the gym, not standing around all conspicuous.

Y/N was weighing the merits of her plan when she heard an excited yell, whipping her head around and watching the trainer give his client a few congratulatory pats on the back, apparently satisfied with the work he’d put in for the day. 

They began speaking lowly to themselves, and Y/N paled when she noticed the only door out of the room she could spot was behind them…. The corner she was standing behind seemed to be where the water fountains and locker rooms were located. 

Hiding out in there was another option, but it didn’t exactly appeal when she would have to keep checking to see when the gym was empty. Right now it was just the two of them, but what if more people came in? 

They’d have questions about someone being dressed like she was, right? Then again she could also be found out just staying put where she was. Ugh…it was beyond frustrating. 

Her luck was completely shot, huh?

A little hope returned when the trainer waved at the young man and then began heading for the exit. She assumed they were done for the day, and the second guy would be done soon too. But not so, because then she’d actually be lucky. 

As soon as his trainer had cleared the room, he gave a loud sigh, beginning to shimmy out of his hoodie. Y/N didn’t think she was close enough to make the door in the small moment he had his vision obstructed, but she was close enough to get an eyeful.

 If his training earlier hadn’t tipped her off that he was dedicated, his physique would have. He was all hard lines, though the minuscule glimpse of a thin waist when his shirt rode up with his hoodie was impressive too.

 She could see a full sleeve of tattoos decorating one arm, and coupled with his longish two-toned hair, a deep brown that gave way to a raging red, he was kind of…hard to look at. Distracting in a way she didn’t anticipate. She didn’t get distracted, not usually.  

He, on the other hand, got straight to business. Oblivious of her presence, he walked right over to the large, hanging punching bag and began to hit it. But he wasn’t just hitting it. Again, Y/N was no boxing aficionado, but she knew he knew what he was doing. 

His strikes were always controlled, his breathing never ragged the way she could guess hers would be. He pivoted on his back foot, and she knew that the small movement put more power into his strikes.

 He was hitting the bag like it owed him money, grunting occasionally, the muscles in his arms and shoulders flexing in his t-shirt. At some point, Y/N figured he would stop. He would either head out the door, or into the locker room, and that was when she would flee. 

Hopefully, wherever the cruel cosmic entity that thought her life was a joke had dumped her, it wasn’t very far from the restaurant. Then again, shouldn’t she have gotten a worried text by now? 

She’d been gone for a while. Or, maybe Binna had actually come to check on her and seen that she had disappeared entirely. Y/N could imagine the freak out as Binna flailed her way back to the table and informed Min Su and Chin-Mae that somehow, someway, she’d been kidnapped. 

What was her life lately, she thought miserably. With nothing to really do but scroll her phone or continue to watch the mystery man go at it, she turned to checking what news was trending for the day. Normally, she at least kept up with news involving the business world, if nothing else.

 The celebrity gossip blogs she left to Binna, BTS investment notwithstanding. Stocks were up at several companies she had an interest in working at after graduation—assuming she made it with her life in chaos lately—so that was good.

 A CEO had resigned from his post at a company she had almost interned at but decided not to at the last minute off a strange feeling. Some scandal involving embezzlement. So she dodged a bullet there.

 And, lastly, BTS’ Jungkook had endorsed some new sports brand, and now merchandise was selling out faster than it could be restocked. The article included a picture of Jungkook, posing in shorts and a t-shirt next to a mountain of different athletic gear for various sports. 

Wait. Y/N could have swallowed her tongue. Wait. That man, the man in the picture and the one boxing…were the same person?!

Feeling like she may just be sick, Y/N did a quick check, and really took in the boxer. That was undoubtedly the idol pictured in the article. 

Not only was she going to jail for assaulting one BTS member (albeit on accident) a fact that she had managed to forget up until that moment, she got pulled back into the same thing that got her in trouble before, and ended up crossing paths with another one?! 

Once it came out what happened between her and Park Jimin, there was no possible way people would believe she wasn’t a sasaeng. The circumstantial evidence just kept getting more and more damning. 

Jungkook. Jungkook. What did she know about Jungkook? Admittedly not much, considering all her focus had really been on Jimin for obvious reasons. She knew…that Binna said he was the youngest in the boy group. He was multitalented, and here her friend swore she wasn’t exaggerating or anything.

 According to her, he was like some kind of Barbie of idols, he could do it all. Those weren’t her exact words, but it was the gist. Jungkook also had a habit of being a little shy around members of the opposite sex, or so it was claimed. 

Y/N personally had always thought all idols had to be manufacturing some parts of their personalities for public consumption. Who knew which parts? None of the scraps of information she had been fed told her anything about whether he was liable to press charges for stalking him or not.

Then again, he was an idol, and knowing that, Y/N had to assume he had gone out of his way to book private gym time, hence why the spacious work out room was empty save for him. Which meant him catching her was going to lead to a world of trouble. 

How good were her odds if she just booked it for the exit the minute he went back to the locker room? Or if he left, she’d wait a little bit to be sure he had cleared the building, then she’d leave too. Waiting…yep…that’s all she could do. If she wasn’t in a dress, and didn’t find the idea so dirty, she would slump over on the floor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook caught the punching bag as it swung back from his last strike, finally feeling satisfied with his boxing for the time being. His limbs had that good burn that he liked, and his heart rate was up, despite his controlled breathing. But he wasn’t ready to leave just yet, so he decided to switch from boxing to something new. After a break.

Unlacing his boxing gloves, he found his gym bag and rummaged inside for his water bottle. Sitting down on a mat, he took a few sips, trying not to gulp it down too fast. His bottle was empty in no time, despite his attempts at moderation, and refilling before he resumed working out didn’t seem like a bad idea. 

His footsteps echoing in the big empty gym was probably his imagination, but the weird sight when he rounded the corner? That he was pretty sure was real. Leaning against the wall, a woman…no, a girl, dressed up like she had somewhere important to be was nodding off. He froze, staring, all kinds of thoughts flying through his head. 

Who was she? How’d she get in? When did she get in? Was she dangerous? Did he need to call for back up? Jungkook had purposely began training at this gym because it was exclusive. As his fame had grown, unfortunately he had to stop using more easy to find public gyms.

 The one at HYBE was an option, but sometimes he wanted something…quieter. Trainees who came in meant well, and they tried to be respectful besides giving him friendly greetings, but they couldn’t help but gawk, and that made it awkward when he was trying to get in the zone. Here, he had thought, was perfect.

But maybe he was rushing to conclusions. He didn’t know anything about the situation besides a girl in a nice dress was falling asleep by the water fountains while standing up. Her head slumped forward, then snapped up quickly as she jolted awake, eyes wide and alert. 

That was when they locked gazes, and his loose, sore muscles tensed right up. She, on the other hand, curled away like she was facing a thug in an alley. It was bemusing; yeah he’d bulked up a lot in the last several years after he got serious about training. Jungkook never considered himself all that intimidating, though. 

“Are you… staff?” he asked, since it didn’t seem like she was going to speak up first. Not with the way she kept looking like the guillotine was coming down on her head any moment. 

It took a reasonably long time for her to compose herself and answer, which was another pretty big tip off that something was not right. He was ready to whip out his phone and call security. Or at least he would be, if he hadn’t put it on do not disturb and left it in his bag. 

“This is all a misunderstanding, really,” she warbled, her hands slapped the wall behind her like she was trying to steady herself. “I didn’t…I didn’t mean to be here.”

“What?” Jungkook was definitely growing suspicious. No one who wasn’t up to something just answered like that.

“I was just going to wait until you left and I guess I started to nod off…” she ran a shaky hand through her hair, disturbing it a little. “But really, please, if you’ll pretend you never saw me, I promise, I’ll be on my way.”

He backed away quickly as she lurched forward, but before he could tell her not to do anything funny, she bowed very formally, and the idol watched, perplexed. When he didn’t respond in any way, she resumed her upright position, then tried to brush by him with her head down. 

Though, when he noticed the phone clenched tight in her fist, he acted without thinking. Something his hyungs had told him to be careful of doing in the past. At least they weren’t around to scold him.

“Hey,” he seized her wrist, and she stopped in her tracks, though he wasn’t expecting her reaction at all. Her eyes took in the hand on her like she could just flay it off with the intensity of her stare alone, and then she met his eyes head-on, hers surprisingly stony. “Your phone…”

“What about it?” she tried tugging her hand away, but he wasn’t ready to let go just yet. Not until he got some answers. He liked this gym. He wanted to keep using this gym, and at the thought that his privacy was being invaded yet again, and he would have to find somewhere else, yet again, he was getting a little worked up. 

“That’s an Army phone, a Galaxy Z Flip 4: Army Edition.”

Her eyes widened, and then she scoffed, shaking her head. “Yeah, I guess you would know. But to tell you the truth, though I can admire your band’s marketability, this phone itself has been nothing but problems. This is just the latest one. Now, please, let go.” There was some bite in her tone now, her voice surprisingly stern. 

When she tugged again, he acquiesced, something she probably didn’t expect, since she stumbled before catching herself. And when she felt her cellphone tugged right out of her hand? She rounded on him, scowling. “That belongs to me.” She held her hand out, clearly expecting it back.

“Why are you here? This is a private gym, and you don’t sound like you’re staff.”

She snatched for the phone, but he held it away, using his speed to his advantage. “Are you Army?”

“What? No,” she sounded offended by the notion, which in turn offended him. Then again, a true Army wouldn’t do this to him. Wouldn’t invade his space. “And what does that matter?”

“You’re not Army but you’ve got a phone that’s a rare exclusive. Only Army would want to own something like this. And if you’d go this far, you might be a sasaeng.” 

Here, she did pause in trying to retrieve her phone, a bit red in the face under her makeup. “Please, between my class schedule and internship, who would even have the time? The people who think stalking and harassing idols is worth jeopardizing their future for really need…” Surprisingly, the girl tried to jump for the phone like she wasn’t in heels, but he held it above his head, which meant it was way above hers, “…a hobby!”

“So I won’t find pictures you secretly took on this?” Jungkook squinted, not convinced. 

“No!” She hissed, jumping again, “Now who’s invading whose privacy, you…you muscle-headed, bunny-eyed brute!” 

He was so taken aback, he faltered, and with one last pounce, the mystery girl had snatched the phone, though not without a cost.

 Before she could even yell out in triumph, her heel wobbled and her foot rolled. Jungkook watched in slow motion, wincing in automatic sympathy as she went down. 

Time sped up as she cried out, on the ground and clutching her ankle in a dress too nice to be touching the bare gym floor. He stood over her, carefully watching her face at first. He could tell she was in pain, but attempting not to show the extent.

 Something about that alone…took him back to his early days. A wave of nostalgia he didn’t want to feel washed over him. He would hide his exhaustion, sometimes even hide injuries sustained while on stage until the end of a performance, until he couldn’t hide it anymore, just to avoid worrying his hyungs.

 And when they caught him, like they inevitably always did, he’d cry, apologize, worry they would resent him. It didn’t make sense to everyone, probably only to those who had experience firsthand with the feeling. Not wanting to let others down, wanting to live up to everyone’s expectations, struggling with the fact that they were still human.

The girl gingerly tried to shift her injured ankle, and that alone seemed to send a fresh wave of pain throbbing through it. With the way she bit her lip and clenched her eyes to stifle the cry he could just tell. 

And even though Jungkook had been concerned about a million things regarding her appearance, including that she might be another delusional ‘fan’, no one could fake pain that expertly. Plus, she’d have to be some actress to make her ankle swell on command.

 It was probably stupid of him to drop his guard, even for a second, but he found himself dropping to his knees, almost reaching out, and then hesitating. She stared up at him through her lashes, her own eyes as guarded as his had been, but wavering as she focused on ignoring her obvious injury. “I need…I need to call my friend.”

Making up his mind, Jungkook loosely grasped her foot by the heel, ignoring her half-hearted attempts to swat his hand away. He extended her leg, careful not to hurt her as he manipulated her foot to get a better idea of how bad it was. “You rolled it pretty hard.” He finally concluded.

“Yeah, no kidding.” Jungkook briefly met eyes with her again, but she stubbornly looked away. “I wonder how that happened.”

Guilt hit him pretty fast. Yeah. Even if he thought she was an intruder, he should have just called security and let them handle it. They were never far, and there was no way she could have stopped him. Not by physically overpowering at least. 

“Hang on,” he told her, setting her foot down and getting back on his feet. “I can help.”

“That’s a nice gesture,” she ground out, failing to hide a wince, “But really, I have my phone, so I can just call my fri—” she grabbed it and opened it, only for her face to fall. “Really? Now?” He heard her grumble irritably.

Noticing his quizzical face, turned a blank screen to him. “It’s dead.” She deadpanned. 

“Okay, then let me help.”

Jungkook didn’t know this stranger by any stretch of the imagination, but he had anticipated what her response would be. It probably sounded something like “no”, since she seemed disinclined to take his help.

 Was she always like this, so stubborn? Was it some kind of pride thing? He had been there, too; his hyungs really had their hands full with him over the years, didn’t they? 

Retrieving the first aid kit Jimin had gifted him some time back, he made a brisk return to find the girl in much the same position he had left her, staring sulkily at her injured ankle. She looked up when he approached, but didn’t say a word. 

“You might have to take off your shoe.” he informed her.

He waited to get a response, the big plastic kit held by his side. Jungkook wondered if she just planned to ignore him, and if he should take her silence as consent and proceed, but that didn’t feel right. Finally, she mumbled, “…This is really happening…isn’t it?”

Nodding slowly, he popped the kit open and examined its contents, locating the roll of compression wrap. While he did that, he noticed her leaning forward, trying to unstrap her heel without moving in a way that would hurt her foot even more. 

Jungkook had never worn heels, but he always thought anyone who did without falling over must have some hidden talent. Hers weren’t as tall as some, but she was still plucking at the strap with building frustration. 

Guessing she wanted it over and done with just as bad as he did, the idol seized the heel of her foot again, bringing her leg out and reaching for the buckle himself.

If he expected a beaming smile and a grateful attitude, he’d be sorely mistaken. She gave him the stink eye. “I can do at least this much.”

“Maybe, but I can do it faster.” He shrugged, already loosening the heel and sliding it off while holding her foot steady. From so close, and without the shoe in the way, he could really see just how fast the ankle had discolored and swollen. Again, he wrestled with the guilt, absently reaching for the wrap. “So,” he began by holding her ankle at a ninety-degree angle, “Who are you? Because this doesn’t mean I forgot…”

“Believe me, I’m someone who doesn’t want to be here anymore than you want me to be here. I didn’t have a choice, not that you’d ever believe me…” she huffed. “But, because legal repercussions are probably unavoidable, I’ll start by being cooperative. Maybe when they review all this, that’ll work in my favor.” It sounded like she was talking to herself, not him, but then she cleared her throat and extended her hand. “My name is L/N Y/N.”

Jungkook didn’t expect such a strange introduction, and the attempt at a handshake reminded him of Namjoon-hyung. He grasped her palm very briefly, barely holding on to it long enough for their hands to go up and down, but she didn’t seem inclined to want to hold onto him either.

“Y/N…” he repeated. 

“As for what I’m doing here…well, again, it’s not something any sane person would believe.” She switched her focus to watching him meticulously wrap her ankle. It was pretty careful care for someone that could have been stalking him, but he had already started, and if he was going to do it, his sense of perfectionism said he had to do it right. 

“Are you…insane?”

“Excuse me?” She didn’t look very amused, but he guessed it wasn’t exactly a polite question.

“You said a sane person wouldn’t believe you…” he explained. 

“I am not insane,” Y/N rubbed a hand to her forehead. “I just feel like I am lately,” she whispered. “I was dining out with some friends, in the restaurant bathroom and then…”

Jungkook waited while he secured the wrap with some bandage clips and closed his first aid kit. “And then?”

“It’s going to sound insane,” she finished matter-of-factly, “You’re going to call me a liar and accuse me of stalking you, then we’ll be right back where we started.”

Jungkook was torn between still wanting to contact security, but also experiencing some curiosity he couldn’t quite tamp down. “Do you have proof?” It didn’t sound like she did. 

“Proof?” Y/N repeated, arching a brow as if he had just said something strange.

“You’re not even going to try to make me believe you?” he goaded. 

“Sure, help me up and I’ll hobble right over to the mirror. You’ll see exactly how I got here and this whole think’ll be cleared up just like that.” Her tone was so sugary the sarcasm was evident. 

Jungkook figured he had indulged this for this long…why not go all the way. Offering her a hand, he warned her to brace herself, and then pulled her up with ease. “Okay.”

“Okay?” She said warily, trying not to show him how much she was utilizing the wall for support. 

“Okay,” Jungkook nodded, “Show me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Idols were weird. Y/N wasn’t sure if it was just the fact that they lived in a completely ‘different world’ from normal people or what, but she hadn’t expected her first extended run-in with some world-famous celebrity to go like this. 

Park Jimin was one thing; he’d been concussed, so that was enough to make him loopy. She hadn’t expected anything out of his mouth to make sense. But this guy, Jean Jungkook? 

Totally different. He wasn’t suffering a head injury, for one. And he had seemed angry at first, but still handled her appearance in much the same way a mean boy on the playground would in elementary school. Playing keep away with her phone, really?

He’d even treated her with decency when she tripped and sprained her ankle. God, that was yet another thing she was going to have to deal with. Sprained her ankle! Sprained! How was she supposed to get around campus quickly? It was huge. Though she supposed that wasn’t a concern at present. 

The idol’s strange demand was at the forefront of her mind, seeing as he was right behind her while she hobbled slowly to the mirror, her heel in one hand and her phone in the other. 

She must have looked like a suffering pigeon, doing a funny little hop. But she refused to let him touch her after she got her bearings. It was humiliating enough to have someone see her make a fool of herself and get injured to boot, idol or no idol. Well actually, his status made it even worse. 

And he was watching her oh so closely as she made it to the mirror, taking a deep breath and turned around to look at him with some difficulty. “Here it is.” She said flatly. “How I got in, and how I probably would be able to get out, if life felt like cutting me a break.”

He stepped around her, staring at her incredulously like she knew he would. She would look at herself that way in his position. Jungkook pressed against the mirror with the flat of his hand, one good time, as if to confirm it was solid. “You used the mirror? What, like magic? Like a drama?”

“You’re the one who said you wanted proof; I never said it would satisfy you.” she retorted. “I barely understand it myself, but what I’m saying is the only truth I have to cling to.” Her chin dipped, “No matter how implausible it is…” 

She knew she would get the same result he had when she pushed on the mirror, but as if to confirm her fate was truly sealed, Y/N tried anyway. When her hand went right through, the cool glass giving way to cool nothingness, she yelled, pitching forward.

Jungkook made a noise, something startled, and she glanced at him to confirm he was seeing what was happening. His bulging eyes made it evident that he was. Yes! Y/N jerked her arm away too fast, and in doing so almost fell back on her ass, if not for the lightning reflexes of the idol who moved to extend an arm around her waist.

 Y/N got her bearings, smoothed a hand over her shirt and her racing heart, and tried to hold back her tears. He could see. He could really see. The weeks of going crazy in silence, holding it all in, and someone else…could see.

“Your arm went through the glass,” he breathed.

“More than my arm’s gone through.” Y/N spoke with more confidence, now that there was no way he could deny it. “That’s…how I got here.”

The idol once again moved forward, pressing both hands against the mirror. Nothing. “How?” He wondered.

“I don’t know.” Y/N replied, “It’s been happening since…since I got this phone. So that’s my only theory, that the events are connected.” She held up the dead device and wiggled it around. “Not that that’s a story anyone would believe if I got caught breaking and entering.” 

The idol appeared to be thinking, worrying his lip piercing with his tongue, “Unless they saw it.”

Y/N squared her shoulders, eyeing him up and down. He fidgeted, looking small somehow, despite being fairly tall with a healthy amount of muscle. From close up it was even easier to see than watching him from behind the wall. 

“It might come as a surprise for you to know, not everyone would be as cavalier as you about all this. In fact, I’d go as far as saying your reaction was a bit…strange. Has anyone told you that you’re odd?”

  ‘Nice going, Y/N.’ She thought bitterly, ‘That was over the top blunt. You’re not trying to make an enemy out of the very first person to be witnessing the crazy with you.’

Luckily, the idol didn’t look overly offended. Jungkook pursed his lips, big eyes sheepish as he rubbed his head. “Uh-huh, my hyung.” he said thoughtfully.

“Well…” Y/N gestured vaguely. “Now that you’ve seen what I’ve seen, you know about as much as I do. Would it be too much trouble to ask if I could…go?” Pointing a thumb toward the mirror like she was about to miss her cab would seem dumb if he didn’t know. 

“Oh, right,” Jungkook’s tapped the mirror again. “You’re going back to where you came from.”

“Ideally,” Y/N frowned, “I’ve been gone a long time. There’s no way my friends aren’t concerned about that. And when they can’t find me who knows what they’ll think.”

Somewhat afraid the give they had both witnessed was a one-off, Y/N pressed her hand to the mirror once again, happy when it rippled and went right through. It might have been too late to salvage the evening with her friends, but at least she could salvage her reputation.

[cleewii]

TEASE

pairing: gyutaro x fem! reader

rating: m for mature

content warning(s): suggestive content. clothes get taken off. nothing actually r18+ worthy. unfinished work. mentions of violence—people getting eaten. reader's not all there upstairs.

note: hi. i’m back. i was digging through my notes app and found a bunch of unfinished works so i figured i’d post them since i actually really like how they turned out even if they’re just rough drafts. expect a surplus of unfinished works of mine throughout the next couple of weeks, i’ve got a lot to go through. i’m trynna heal my relationship with posting my work online, and this is the first step.

i do not permit the reposting/uploading of my work on any platform. not even with credit.

he’s practically keening at the soft dig of your fingers on his hip bones, dipping into the curves and ridges of his body as though he weren’t some grotesque thing, staring up at him as though he could possibly deserve that awe struck look in your eyes.

he groans, the sound rumbling from his throat in a broken wave before he dives down and lets himself indulge in the sweet smell of your skin.

he won’t let you perch yourself on his lap, or hug him too tightly, or even look at him for too long, but it’s not because the thought of you seeing him makes him feel ill. no of course not. and it’s definitely not because he’d rather rip his own skin off and eat it then let you decide he is a disgusting monster unworthy of your time.

hes grown possessive, but isn’t that a given? aren’t we all possessive of our prizes, our jewels, our gold, and we hang them so daintly across ourselves like medals to proclaim something of worth to the world.

you are a shining treasure in his eyes—a name in the impossibly short list of people who matter to him—and he’d rather die then let you hate him.

so no, you’re not allowed to do this, touching him so softly, drinking him in like hes worth it, and no your not allowed to press those sweet kisses to his skin, or guide his hands to your hips and thighs, let him feel you up. he really should stop you, his bones are aching with the need to push your hands away, snarl and growl like the bruttish thing he is, because the worst thing, the absolute worst thing he could do is ruin you.

if he slips up, and let’s you get too close, he’ll do it, he just knows it.

you are flawless; he shouldn’t have the right to touch you, and yet the selfish part of him wants to take you, all you, leave as many marks as he can, stains and mares, just to prove that this was real. You were real, and you were here choosing to be with him, letting him lean over you and eat you up.

he’s seen you with other men. quietly hidden in the shadows, peering in through the walls all just to get a glimpse of you. the jealousy swells each time, threatening to take over whenever a hand so much as grazes across your skin. he wants to devour you, claim you, mind body and soul, and wear you like a battlescar he hopes never fades, but his hands can only twitch on either side of your head.

“Gyu…” You sigh, “you can touch me you know. it’s okay.”

he huffs, head snapping away, refusing to look at you any longer then he already has.

“don’t be stupid.” garbled and warp, his voice is like a broken radio, flawed. he wants to swallow the words and die with them choking him.

“this is torture,” you whine, tracing your hands up his chest, “all you do is look at me, but you won’t even touch me? ur a real tease ya know….”

it’s that pouty tilt in your voice that forces him to look again, and he’s met with the pretty sight of your eyes, glossy with tears he knows only mean trouble.

“don’t be a brat.” he glares, fingers digging into the fabric of the comforter beneath the two of you.

“i didn’t even drag you here or anything. you’re the one that got all weird and quiet, ‘n if you really wanted me gone that bad you wouldn’t have kept going out of your way to find me. don’t lie gyu, you want me as bad as i want you.”

i want you….

he shakes it away. absolutely not. he couldn’t—not ever!

“please,” you whisper, leaning up until your lips brush against the shell of his ear, “please gyutaro….”

“you’re a real sicko, ya know…” he hisses, as though your voice scalds him down to bare flesh. his fingers move to dig into the skin of his neck. scratching and scratching away as though he can rip out the sinful thoughts he’s been having ever since youd perched yourself here. They go against every instinct he’s ingrained into himself. every painful lesson beaten into his body.

“do you get some freaky kick outta me or something? you lookin’ down on me? i could kill you right now ya know, could slit your throat and eat you like m’supposed to.”

“then do it.” your gaze is unchanging in its chagrin. “if you want to so bad—if not eating me is agony—then go ahead n’do it. i dare you.” you squirm a bit under his body. “here, i’ll even make it easier.”

your fingers go to undo the strings of your yukata; the soft fabric going slack as you continue down the row that stretches along your middle. the sleeves fall past your shoulders, hanging down dangerously low, inches away from revealing the swell of your chest.

he watches with a dry mouth as you move to pull the rest of your garment off, and it’s the sliver of skin above your naval that sets something off.

your wrist gets caught between his hands, and you look up to meet his desperate eyes.

“what the hell do you think your doing?!” he practically shouts into your face.

“you said you wanted to eat me right? well i don’t recall meals ever being dressed up before they’re served, so i’m doing you a favor and getting rid of the stuff in your way.”

“well stop!”

“okay,” you roll your eyes, frustration leaking into your voice as impatience replaces your self control. “then if it isn’t the clothes, tell me why you won’t eat me? that’s what your kind do isn’t it? eat human beings. hunt them down, torture ‘n kill them. so tell me, gyutaro. why won’t you kill me?”

he doesn’t reply. practically refuses to.

“i know you’re not above murder. just admit that you like me. admit it n’ill leave you alone, i swear.”

annoying. like a fly, buzz buzz buzzing around him like his attention would somehow quell you.

Insolent.

Cocky.

It pissed him off to no end, the lack of fear, your inability to comprehend just how deadly he was.

you sat yourself down next to him like he was nothing more then a boy you knew. as if he couldn’t tear you apart, rip flesh from bone like it was second nature, as simple as it was to breathe.

If only you would make this easier. if only you didn’t tease.

[casuallivi]

The Midnight Kiss

Azriel took a hike this chap 😬😬 his inner thoughts were secluded from me😓😓 Fear not, Elain had no problem in blabbing for three two . Enjoy your Elain-fest, i guess… Adopte an author today, and win the privilege of helping to keep the flame alive! See ya 😻😽

Enjoy. Comments are welcomed and cherished :)

Part 6: In need of a Scotty to beam her up

Hands roaming each other's bodies in a hurry, a trail of discarded clothes leading to the bedroom, ragged breaths and frantic steps finding the way towards the bed, two bodies rolling around the sheets, her soft moans and his rough groans matching the “thud, ” of the headboard denting the wallpaper, a symphony of,

“Faster,”

“Harder,”

“Deeper,”

“There. Right there,”

“Yes, yes, yes.”

loud enough to haunt her nosy neighbor for days to come!

Had they been a regular couple, that’s how their third date would be coming to an end; in a steamy encounter between the sheets.

Since they were Azriel and Elain, their third date came to an end with the couple talking in his car, the engine roaring smoothly on the background.

Elain Archeron had been away from the dating scene for five years, yet the rules had not changed much: People expected to get laid by the third date. Sometimes on the first date, or even before having a first date! Bottom line is, go down dirty and hard in the first opportunity you have, put all the chemistry to test to avoid settling down with someone you have no interest in sleeping with. Despite not understanding the appeal of sleeping around, Elain agreed that a couple’s sexual life played a big part in the relationship. She also knew good bedroom chemistry turned into shackles when a guy treated you like shit outside of it. Worst bargain coin ever. Elain had been in one of those relationships before. It took so long for her to see how shitty her last relationship was, and finally break free from it, that once she did, Elain retracted from men all together. Hence the birth of her Crush Land.

Elain’s Crush Land was her happy place, a safe space where she could fantasize about the men she found attractive, without actually having to get involved with them. After all, it was much easier to crush from a distance than to get close and end up disappointed, especially when she had no confidence in maintaining a healthy relationship. In her Land the men were all perfect, flawless, fulfilling all of her expectations without her having to explain a thing. As every good sovereign, she establish ground rules for her Land, two unbreaklabe rules that kept her reign peaceful for years:

1º)This cannot be a one-Crush-land;

2º) The maximum of days a Crush can remain in his throne, is seven days. After that, he's trouble.

With time, Elain grow attached to her delusional lifestyle, content with her fantasies, her Crush Land providing all the male interaction she needed. Until she met Cassian.

Goddamn Cassian Marino, with his massive size and perfect round ass, sauntering into her life flaunting his silky hair and megawatt smiles, destroying everything she worked hard to perfect.  Cass refused to fit into her equation, shattering her one-week-crush mold, frequently appearing in her mind till he was the only guy she could fantasize about. Funny thing is that was her wake up call. Ah, Elain thought sadly, I must be lonely.

Loneliness was a bitch. Especially for someone like her, who had been in relationships more than she had been alone. That’s why her Crush Land was important. No matter how silly it sounded, it helped her to learn to be alone, feel fulfilled by herself, not depend on a partner to give her worth. Elain was worthy. And her ever growing infatuation with Cass was proof that she was ready to get back into the dating world, preferably with him.

Life was also a bitch, slapping her, laughing at her pathetic hopeful plans, rubbing Cass' smoking-hot grilfriend in her face, before she could even have the chance to embarass herself with a confession. Cassian deciding to start when Elain decided to start dating, only to end up dating someone that was not her would be hilarious, had it not happened to her. It did happen to her, and Elain was devastated. But no matter! She would not let that stop her from taking a leep of faith with another guy.

Did she expected for this guy to be Cass' brother? No.

Did she expect for this guy to be her work-nemesis? Also, no.

Did she expect for this guy to be both, and despite the fact she knew that, to accept dating him anyway? Absolutly not!

Sometimes spontaneity made her do crazy things.

Elain would be the first one to admit Azriel's credentials were not looking good. But no matter! Azriel had showed he was interested in moving on too, and Elain was nothing, if not an optimist. She was confident about her abilities to move on, ready to conquer any challange life throw her way! All she needed was a guy who was willing to take her, not tame her, and everything would work out.

That’s how she found herself in boss-turned-boyfriend situation. What Elain and Azriel were doing was different from everything she had ever tried. This time she started dating her boyfriend before even liking him properly, going on dates to get to know each other. And Elain was enjoying this “get to know me” stage, enjoying discovering the little things she would not know simply by working with him.

Despite not having his brother’s easy disposition to accommodate strangers and make everyone feel comfortable with a flash of his white teeth, Azriel wasn’t the cold-hearted tin man she anticipated. As she got to know him, Elain discovered Azriel had no problem in being open and honest about his feelings, his expectations regarding their relationship, his desire to fall in love with her.

Elain was surprised to know he wasn't just interested in moving on, he was interested in her too! Initially, she thought they would help each other get over their exes, gain confidence with the opossite sex, and move on to find actual partners. Azriel nearly blew a fuse when she told him that.

"Let me get this straight. You wanna date me, to date another guy?" "Yeah, we," "No." He stopped her. "You'll date another girl, too," "No." "Let me finish," "No. You are not dating another guy! Are you out of your damn mind?" He interrupted, a vein popping in his forehead. "I warned you, Elain, I warned you I don't do casual. You date me, you are mine, and I do not share what's mine. Fuck no, you'll not date another guy."

Elain thought women's hormones sure worked in mysterious ways, because she had no business finding a domineering man that sexy. So, she changed routes, treating him as a real boyfriend, trying her best to box all his annoying bits to focus in his qualities –a feature she spent the better part of a year believing he did not have. Turned out he did.

It pained her old self to admit this, but Azriel was excellent in his job. He was also beautiful –she was dying to get him in front of her lenses– educated –when he wanted to be– from a good family, with good values, and apparently, extra sexy when he claimed his domain of her. It would be a lie to say a man like that, showing interest in you, didn’t send butterfly into a frenzy in a girl’s belly. Azriel being an attentive boyfriend didn't hurt either.

Even busy, he made sure to text her here and there throughout the the week, matching his free time to hers so they could go on dates. Since their relationship changed from coworkers to lovers, he started watching his tone, policing himself to not lash at her as he usually would – in fact, Azriel was treating the entire team better. Taking did breaths to control his temper while rejecting ideas, reducing the number of times he indiretcly called them stupid during a day, and he had only told her to shut up twice this week – a progress if she ever saw one. It was her fault, honestly. Elain couldn't help it, provoking him was fun.

Plus, bantering didn't end with her wanting to punch his teeth out anymore, now they ended with him cornering her in the empty pantry, his office, the elevator, he parking lot, deseert corridors, Azriel tracking her down to bite the snarkiness out of her lips.

“Jesus, you are such a biter,” she pointed out one day, after a particularly sharp nip. “Learned from you,” he breathed in her mouth.

Guilty. Elain couldn’t get enough of his plushy lips, nibbling and sucking on them till Azriel lost his stark facade, self-control thrown out the window, forgetting they stood in company property to press her on the nearest corner, groaning into her mouth, closing his long finger around her throat, making a mess of her hair. The man seemed obsessed with her hair and her neck. Elain was quickly becoming obsessed with his neck too, tip-toeing to fill it with wet kisses, leaving hickeys at the base, just shy from the collar of his dress shirts, like a little secret hidden in plain sight. It felt good to brand her teeth on his skin. A small punishment for all the times he made he want to punch his face.

At the end of the day, Elain wasn’t in love with Azriel, but she sure liked being his girlfriend. So much so, that when he pulled up in front of her building, she began to stall, coaxing him into conversing a little bit longer, not wanting to part.

Now she sat in his car, asking him endless questions about a subject most girlfriends would avoid like the plague: His ex.

“So you never had a girlfriend? Like, never, ever.” She asked for the third time, stunned with the complex and crazy history of her boyfriend.

Elain knew it wasn’t proper to use their date night to play 21 questions about his ex, but she was a curious person.

“If you want to get technical about it. She didn’t want labels. Had no problems getting the advantages of one, tho.”

His eyes dipped to her leg, which was bare, courtesy of her peach pleated skirt, a question clear in his hazel orbs. Elain allowed silently, watching as he gently ran his knuckles over the longitudinal scar dividing her kneecap in two halves, the line of scar tissue lighter than her skin.

"Does it still hurt?"

"Only if it gets too cold. My doc said it’s psychological, I said he isn’t the one feeling the pins burning. I swear to you, my orthopedist is whack, never trust your knee to Edgar Montero from Beacon Hill, never."

"How many pins?"

Elain lifted two fingers. Azriel removed his hand.

"It's fine, most of the time I forget about it."

He reached for his jacket on the back seat, draping it over her legs.

“Thanks,” Elain undid the straps of her sandals, not noticing him adjusting the temperature, and crossed her legs under his jacket, snapping a quick pic of her covered legs, catching the shoes on his carfloor. Then she returned to the subject of her interest. “Oh man, that’s a lot of responsibility, being someone’s first girlfriend. Just so you know, I had a lot of boyfriends, lots of experience.”

Azriel turned on his seat to better face her. “I have a decade of experience.”

She used her hand to make and “0” shape, saying, “stil had zero girlfriends. Were you lonely?"

Elain was. In her last relationship, Elain felt lonely even though she wasn't alone. She never wanted to experience that feeling again.

Azriel merely shrugged. “Work kept me busy enough.”

“Life is more than fashion, Marino. Life is bitter without the sweet frosting of love."

"Let me guess: that's why you fall in love easily."

"touché." She winked at him.

His raven-hair touched the headrest, Azriel closing his eyes. "How many boyfriend are we talking about?" he asked casually.

"You sure you wanna know?"

"Mmh."

"Most people prefer not to know about their partners past..." she taunted.

Azriel opened one eye, giving her an incredulous look. "You are so full of shit. You literally spent," he looked at his watch, "one hour and twenty minutes interrogating me."

It was her time to shrug, playing it cool. "I'm confident like that." Bullshit. Freaking curious enough to put George to shame, that's what she was.

"Stop stalling." Damn it, he knew her antics.

"Since you insist. Don't go crying later!" she gave him a last warn, putting a hand on her chest. "Just so you know, I'm extremely loyal. Got my first boyfriend entering high school, dated him till senior year. We broke up, I started dating this other guy in college, we were together till I turned twenty-four – he kind of traumatized me a little, but that's story for another time. Then I met this cute guy on tinder, he was stinky rich, but I think his mom wanted to bone him." Elain grimaced, using air quotes to repeat the nasty words she had to hear. "That lady was not happy to see her 'precious golden boy' with a 'lousy photographer'. I am not lousy. A goddamn amazing photographer, that's wha I am. Dumped his ass and won a contest later that month, thank you very much, mama Vanserra.”

Six months after breaking up with Graysen, Elain got into a bad funk. She missed intimacy, missed sex, and the worst part, she missed Graysen. To avoid crawling back to him, she tried a dating app, finding Lucien Vanserra on the first swipe, who she got involved with for three blissful months. Then his crazy mother started wanting to compete with Elain for her son’s love and affection. The woman acted like her son was her late husband. Yikes.

“And?” Azriel urged to go on, his voice bringing her out of memory lane.

“And what?”

"You said you dated a lot, I'm waiting for the "lot" part."

Elain grabbed the front of his shirt, twisting the fabric. "How dare you criticize my lovely love history? You never had a girlfriend. You are like, like – a dating novice!”

Azriel made sure his eye roll was a deliberately slow one, grabbing her chin to bring her closer. “You dated two guys and a half.”

"Why a half?"

"You never dated the third asshole."

“Still dated more than you.”

“Questionable.”

Elain snorted, impressed with his audacity to judge her when he never managed to get a single girl to date him. Before she could tell him to shove it, Azriel ran his thumb across her lower lip. He knew just how to shush her, because Elain went inert instantly. 

“Are you done interrogating me, now?” She nodded. “Or do you wish to reminisce about your harem a little longer?” She shook her head.

There was no need to think about a witty reply. Azriel wasn’t actually interested in an answer, didn’t wait for on either.

He kissed her with all the patient she didn’t have, taking his time in tasting her lips; and there they were without fail, the goddamn fireworks blowing behind her lids like they did every time he touched her. Elain melted into him. His kiss was unhurried, throughtful, lips moving with the same tender assurance of the hand palming the beck of her neck, finger tangling in the waves at her nape, tugging in delicious way that was neither too harsh nor too tight. Perfect. His touch was perfect.

Elain endure the slow tempo the best she could, the kiss lingering like the sweetest of punishments. She let him conduct the pace till she was tingling all over, goosebumps coating her skin, Then she exploded, untamed and unleashed.

Where Azriel was calm, Elain was the storm. She wasted no time with gentleness, sticking her tongue in his mouth to deepen the kiss, delighting in his small flinch of surprise. Elain throw her arms around his neck like a desperate drowning girl in search of a life jacket to cling to, Azriel shuddering under her embrace, matching her wild pace with no struggle. Elain loved how versatile he was, changing from one type of kiss to another with easy, allowing her to guide him, to coach him as she saw fit. Heavy panting soon filled the air, the peculiar couple getting lost in the erratic kiss. When Azriel released her, his voice was lower than usual, rough on the edges, a black ocean smothering the beautiful hazel of his eyes.

"Is the experienced up to your standards, madam?"

She barely nodded, lipstick smudged all over, eyes glazed with need, searching for his mouth again.

Few were the things capable of turning Elain silent and compliant.

Azriel's kiss was on top of that list.

.

.

.

Elain sidestepped into the conference room carrying four colorful binders, arms feeling like jelly under the heavy weight, huffing from the small walks from the room to her desk. Okay, maybe the material wasn’t that heavy and she was the one out of shape. Christ, she needed to exercise more frequently. Elain could not remember the last time she did some cardio, except for running to the bakery two blocks down from her place. Fine, she needed to exercise, period.

She dropped her cargo on the long table, organizing the variety of fabric swatches, reference data and sponsoring proposals Nuala left in her care, snapping a quick photo of it all. Nuala caught a nasty flu she was trying to nurse before their business trip, leaving Elain, Miguel and Azriel to run their last meeting without her.

Speaking of Azriel…

Elain glanced expectantly at her boss, who was casually leaning against the table, focused solemnly on his tablet, scribbling over the interview draft Miguel presented to him. The assistant writer stood by him, eyes moving furiously from the object to his boss face, fidgeting like a child who waits for parental approval. These days Elain wasn’t much different, constantly rocking on her heels as she waited to snatch his attention.

The reminiscence of daylight seemed to clung to him, highlighting the deep navy of his dress shirt, the color making his profile stand out. The top button was undone, giving her the smallest glimpse of bronzed skin, Elain biting her lip as she remembered what was hidden by his shirt. At the height of his second button laid a little purple bruise, made by her. Elain sighed. How come he was able to stand there, doing nothing but breathe and be serious, and look as good as a seasoned model posing for the camera? Life was unfair. Well, not so unfair since she was the one who got to enjoy this big, sexy, handsome,

“Did your toddler redacted the last questions?” Azriel’s sharp remark interrupted her silent inspection of him. He didn’t raise his voice, didn’t have to, directing his piercing stare at Miguel, who scratched his head, saying,

“I don’t have kids.”

“Figured. A toddler knows better than to ask Wang personal questions. Keep it professional, focus in the progress of her career, she’s prone to be volatile if you don’t. Tis last page is useless. Do it again.”

“Yes, boss man. Will do.”

Behind them, Elain rolled her eyes at Azriel for ruining her sweet memories with his unwanted crudeness. Moments like this, she didn't like him one bit. Azriel wasn't lying when he said it was hard for him to connect with people, and once he got hyperfocused in his job that little detail shined light a beacon. The man was in serious need of an interpersonal relationship coach. Learning the difference between constructive criticism and public humiliation would do wonders to his character.

Elain slammed a clipboard on the table, making a grand show of pretending to sneeze three time, just to slip in the words, “quit,” “being,” “a jerk,” in between. She could hear Azriel taking a deep breath before his neck turned like the little girl in the exorcist.

“Excuse me?”

“You should say “bless you, love”, but thanks.”

Elain could swear the lights flickers. "Are you doing that?" Shuddering, she made the sign of the cross.

Azriel scowled harder. “Are you out of your meds again?”

Oh, the nerve of this man. Liked being his girlfriend her ass. Elain gave him the sweetest smile she could muster, ending up looking like a psycho on the loose.   

“Of course not, Marino. I have my medicine right here,” she pinched his cheeks, Miguel sucking his lips inwards to avoid laughing. “How could I look at this face and not feel healthy and energized? Don’t be a jerk, love, scowling gives you winkles, and God did not make me this hot to date a wrinkled old geezer.”

“I’m not old.”

"You are. Age is a state of mind, and yours show in your grumpiness." She tapped his cheek lightly, smoothing the frown from between his brows. "Relax for me," she said, then, a bit quieter, "that sounds awfully sensual doesn't it? Relax for me."

He seemed peeved, but Elain was positive he wanted to laugh. She could see his lips twitching in the corner.

"You know I'm still your boss, right?"

"So you've told me. Now stop scolding the poor boy, I don't his beautiful soul to be crushed by corporate world. You done with the interview, yeah?" she pushed the remaining binders closer to Azriel, explaining their contents. “Nuala asked to pass this along. This one has partnership proposals. She said to email her if you have any doubt, she’ll be glue to her phone in case you need her. This one has secured sponsors. Take a look at these gorgeous Jacobsen settees we can display on set.” She flipped all the way to page twenty-four, showing him a variety of furniture to choose from, watching him overseeing the selection with keen attention.

“They look rigid,” Azriel commented absently.

“You know all about that, don’t you?” See? Easy to provoke. “I’m aiming for uncomfortable. Is part of the first act. Nuala and I were playing with a couple of scenarios, and I did some sketches. My goal is for it to be hard on the edges, unpleasant, transitioning into a more and welcoming atmosphere once her apprentices come into the picture, color bleeding in. They are her missing piece, her equilibrium.”

She located the blue binder, spreading it open in front of her boss, displaying all the confidence and grace that she had mastered dealing with her previous clientele. Anxious brides needed reassurance, and Elain was an expert in gving it, gently guiding them into her vision with steady steps, making sure to accommodate their hidden desires to create the perfect shooting.

She showed them the pages, giving visual representation of how the model would look in the set, how the poses would convey the message. Azriel analyzed each page quietly, lost in contemplation, contrary to Miguel, who silently shook beside him, clutching his fist to his mouth.

Elain reached in front of Azriel to slap Miguel's arm. “What are you laughing at?”

“You said you sketched.”

“I did.” 

“Angelita, you drew a bunch of stick people.” He lifted the tip of a paper, trying to discern what the heck she had done there. Lots of circles and lines, that's what. “It’s impossible to understand this.”

Elain gasped out loud, dramatically clutching a hand to her chest, gluing the back of her other hand to her forehead.

"Here we go," Azriel muttered, getting out of her way.

Elain staggered towards Miguel, clinging to his jacket, shaking him left and right.

“My own friend. My brother in army!”

“Brother in arms.” Azriel corrected with a shake of the head.

Elain ignored him, way too deep into her theatrical redemption of a betrayed person, continuing her absurd discourse.

“My ally! Here I was, defending your maidenly honor, and you, you! You throw me under the bus! Thou shalt not kill, Miguel, thou shalt not kill! Why do you murder me like this! Have you no compassion? Have you no honor? Why do you betray me, why?" With a final cry, she sobbed into his shirt.

"Alright, alright. Get up now." Miguel held Elain up right, who was still pretending to be weak on the knees. “Couldn’t you have cut some old mags or something?”

“And give you some else’s vision?” her face twisted with horror, Elain pushing away from him to clean her fake tears. “No, thank you. This is an original shooting, with original concept, so we needed original drawings.” She tapped her index on the paper. “You have to look with your third eye, friend.”

“I have that?”

“Everyone does.” Fixing her hair in a ponytail, Elain wiggled herself between the two man, preparing to give a class they would not forget. “Pay attention, por sabor.”

“Por favor," he corrected amused.

“That’s what I said. Look, these are all different poses, kneeling, standing, laying down. I gave my blood for the stick people! Look! Here, she’s falling from a cliff into darkness, see, her arms are trying to grab salvation. Here, they are lying down, bored to death, in desperate need of something new, excitement. Then, boom! Wangsalvation. And here comes Vera," her passionate speech mellowed, for a shadow was casted over her, a strong frame trapping her between his body and the table. Elain wondered if Azriel had an inner furnace, because he always seemed to run hotter than her.

She cleared her throat, struggling to remain professional. "Vera is – Vera...? Yes! Vera. Vera will be waiting for her pupils, reaching her hand like the statue of a goddess, teaching her ways to the youth.”

The heat of Azriel's body seeped into her naked arms as he gently took a hold of her wrist, long soft fingers wrapping around her skin. Mouth-watering muscles flexed as guided her, making her point at something she could not care less.

"What's that one?"

Elain licked her lips, imagining how much prettier he’d look holding both of her wrists, pinning her hands above her head, binders dropped to the ground because she’d be the one spread on this table, harsh hazel eyes darkening with desire as he bent over–

“Models in opposite sides, touching each other’s faces.” She mumbled bewildered.

“Mmmh.” His purring vibrated on her back, Elain gulping at the awareness that she was straight out resting against his front. Her cheeks heated, eyes darting quickly to the witness in the room, only to find him distracted by his phone.

“Hey, Jerry read my email. He'll see me first thing tomorrow,” Miguel said casually. Jerry was their chief-editor, responsible for all the journalist aspects of an issue. “I’ll cut the last page and brainstorm new questions tonight. Maybe he can finish proofreading before we fly out.”

Azriel's hand moved from her wrist to her waist, resting casually at her hip. "I rather you proofread the winner's interview first. Wang is the last to go, there’s time to fix hers.”

“You sure?”

The two exchanged more words Elain didn’t pay an ounce of attention to, too busy digesting her latest daydream. The fact that her fantasies were now starred by a different Marino still caught her by surprise sometimes.

Surely, all that making out, like a couple of unsupervised horny teenagers, was messing with her brain chemistry. Because Azriel went from being nothing but a cranky boss, who made her blood boiling with impatience after their interactions, to be the protagonist of her x-rated story lines, sending her spiraling simply because he touched her wrist –not even her ass or titties, her goddamn wrist! This man’s touch needed to be studied.

The more she thought about it, the clearer it got: Elain not only liked to be Azriel's girlfriend; Elain liked Azriel.

A kiss on top of her head startled Elain back in the present, Miguel long gone from the room.

“I can smell your neurons burning.” Azriel joked, smelling her hair, kissing the same spot from before. The little excited thing in her chest went crazy. “Why is your heart beating so fast?” he whispered in her ear, “I can feel it in my chest.”

Crap, he could feel it?

Elain groaned.

At first, she thought Azriel Marino didn't had a flirtatious bone in his body, later, she understood he simply wasn't into cheesy reckless pick up lines like her. No, Azriel enjoyed other ways to take her off her feet, generally pointing things a gentleman should pretend he hadn't noticed! Sometimes it felt like this man was put on this earth to humble her. Christ, how was she supposed to flirt her way out this? Elain was in need of a Scotty to beam her up and away from here, before this man discovered her weakness. He was already way to powerful for her taste.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that my boss being inappropriate during office hours.”

“Now, she remembers I'm her boss. And you are inappropriate all the time.”

“Yeah, but it’s weird when you do it. I'm the funny partner in this relationship.”

Azriel used her jeans beltloops to turn her around till her ass was pressed on the table “Are you?” Since when had this man confused face been so adorable? "You are fun, but funny, tsk tsk. Funny is a big stretch."

His fingers dug in her in waist, cutting her cognitive abilities, stopping her from registering the insult. Was he going to put her up the table? God, she hoped he would. "Cute shirt."

Elain looked down on her white tee design, where two potted plants were having a conversation. One saying, "Aloe, how are you?", the other "Hey, long Thyme no see."

"Thanks."

He traced her lower lip, muttering. "No lipstick, today?"

Before she could control herself, Elain let her tongue dart outside, meetind the pad of his thumb. "Didn't want to smear you," she replied in a daze.

"Glass walls. Office hours." Came his low warning.

"Technically, we are past office hours. I'm friends with Marie, you know, the cleaning lady. She gave those glass walls an extra glow this morning, I can guarantee you'll find no germs in it. Now, if you wanna put some germs in it, I have a few ideas about what we could press there. Who. You. could press there. But I should warn you, the dress code suggestion may get a little skimpy."

There was no hidding his smile now, except he wasn't amused. His smile was wicked, smoldering hazel eyes hiding delirious promises. Azriel cleaned her saliva over her cheek, finding her neck.

Knuckles rapped against the glass wall; a melodious voice calling his name. Worse, calling him by a pet name.

"Az." The affectionate sugary tone made Elain grimace. And she wasn't the only one.

One blink and the burning desire in his eyes morphed into anxiety.

"Az?" His face paled. As if he couldn't believe the sound reaching his ears. Elain looked from him to the gorgeous woman in the doorway, checking her from feet to face.

Black stilettos, red strapless jumpsuit and sunglasses greeted her. Manicured red coffin nails clutched a tiny mini purse, beach blonde hair gathered at her nape in a low, elegant, ponytail, once again making Elain feel inadequate in her jeans and tee. Morrigan took her sunglasses off, giving Elain a view of her red swollen eyes.

"Az... Azriel." Her trembling voice calling his full name seemed to wake up Azriel from his trance. He withdrew from Elain completely, turning to Morrigan at last

"Hi." Uncomfortable silence stretched when he didn't greet her back. If Morrigan was saddened by his stiff reaction, she did not let it show. "Can we talk? Please. I really need to speak with you."

[im-no-jedi]

nah, but I’m sick of it. I’m sick of people holding Hunter to unrealistic standards. yes, he’s the leader and (most likely) the oldest of the group. but do any of you even realize what that means??

it means he already holds himself to unrealistic standards. and y’all continuing to bash and berate him for it is no different than an abusive parent would do to their child, seriously 🙄

he’s not perfect. he’s going to make mistakes. he’s a freaking human being, not some flawless god who can solve everyone’s problems. 

and for goodness sakes, stop saying he’s emotionless. just because someone doesn’t cry doesn’t mean they’re emotionless. not only does Hunter clearly show emotion many times throughout the series (especially in Plan 99), but he also tries to remain the stable one in emotional situations for the sake of others. he has to. it’s his job.

and the worst part? literally nobody is telling him to be that way. sure, he probably was taught some things while in military training. but I can tell you right now as the oldest sibling, that idea of being the “stable one” is something you create entirely of your own conscious. I’ve had to go through years of therapy in order to “unlock” my emotions and be more open with people. and I still struggle with it!!

ALSO. I’m sick of the double standard held between the characters. y’all are so willing to forgive Tech and Crosshair for acting the way that they do, but as soon as Hunter does something “wrong”, he’s labeled the worst of them all. why?? why is that?? is it really just because he’s the leader?? give me a break 🙄

we learned that Tech is the way that he is because of a mental disorder. amazing. wonderful. everybody liked that.

well then. is it really so hard to believe that maybe, just maybe, Tech isn’t the only one like that??

I’m not the first person to view the entire squad as ND, and I’m certainly not the last. many ND people have found solidarity in different members of the squad, sometimes all of them (myself included). someone on Twitter even wrote a fantastic thread about how the Batch is autistic (before Tech was confirmed so in the show btw!).

so yeah. need I say more? 

dislike the way a character acts all you want idc. but try and take a minute to actually think about why you don’t like it instead of just throwing out insults and slander unnecessarily. especially when most of it is blatant hypocrisy at best. I almost feel like it shouldn’t be allowed to hate on Hunter unless you’re willing to do the same for Tech and Crosshair. but what do I know? I’m just a ND oldest sibling of four with Gifted Kid Burnout who had to go to therapy for emotional issues 🤪

[mishanym]

A/N: In the scenario where the pursuers found MC's address, and Jake failed to deflect the attack the pursuers did to MC's phone, revealing MC's location...

MC's part in pink. Jake's part in green.

MC regained their consciousness. The first thing Jake said is how he loves them. Mc already know this. The first thing they do surprise Jake. They kiss him.

takes off his mask

shocked when MC see the face behind the mask

You're this.. handsome?

loss for words looking at his flawless skin and blue eyes finally coming together with his whole face, now imprinted into MC's brain

the urge comes and MC leans in to kiss Jake sweetly

feels MC's lips on his

blushes uncontrollably

feels like he's floating

Wow.

Wow.

indeed

Your eyes are beautiful.

honest words slipped out of MC's mouth

That's... that's the most beautiful compliment... anyone's ever given me.

I... I think... my mind is spinning. I don't think I've ever been this happy in my life, MC.

Your mind is spinning? Oh no.. is it bad? Here, let me hold you..

Hold him tight

hugs MC, shaking

whispers in MC's ear

I love you, MC.

hugs his shaking body so he's feeling calmer

whispers back to Jake

I love you. More than I can explain.

feeling peaceful as he leans on MC

whispers

I have so much... I want to tell you. Everything. I wish I could spend the rest of my life with you, MC. That would be... heaven.

whispers back

You can tell me.. everything. I want to know everything..about you.

Heaven is where you are..

You want to know everything? Because I want to know everything about you, too.

I... I don't think I ever felt like this before. Is this... is this love, MC? I feel like it is.

holding MC tighter, as though afraid he will lose them

We've finally met each other.

Jake..

Where.. are we?

finally taking in the surroundings

Um...

looks around, then realizes his harsh decision. his mistake.

I can't believe I'm saying this, MC...

But... You are... in... the Dark Room.

What is.. the Dark Room, Jake..?

The Dark Room?

It's...

...

It's a bad place, MC.

It's...

It's a place that you...

realizes that he's about to say something that might destroy the most important person in the world to him

I...

takes in a deep breath

It's... a place that I...

I...

I built, MC.

It's for your hacking activities, right..?

looks at MC

Yes. It is.

I built this room for my hacking activities, MC.

What do you remember of what happened?

All I remember was, your pursuers started to find my location and then you sent me a text telling me to go to a certain coordinate and then when I arrived there, I lost consciousness.

Gasp in shock

Did you knock me unconscious?

Yes, MC.

I didn't want you to find out. But now my own mistake, my own recklessness, my own hubris, is forcing me to face my worst fear and tell you the truth.

Yes. I told you to go to that location to capture you. Then... I knocked you unconscious and...

looks down in shame

I... and I put you in the Dark Room.

Why did you put me here? Because your pursuers might capture me?

Yes.

I know it's the worst possible thing I could have done. I knew it was wrong, even before I did it. But...

What else could I do?

looks into MC's eyes

MC.. You are the most important person in the world to me. I couldn't risk losing you.

Oh Jake..

MC stroke his shoulder gently.

It's okay, I don't blame you for doing this. You only want to protect me.

So... you're not angry? Not even a little?

I'm not angry.

smile at Jake

Not even a little.

I mean. I'm your weakness, aren't I? If they got their hands on me, you'd give up everything to save me wouldn't you?

We can't let that happen.

... yes. You...

blushes

You are my weakness.

I would trade my life away...

Just to protect you...

My MC...

------------------------------------

A/N

This is what I imagine Jake would do if somehow the pursuers found out MC's location. ;)

[tdstoryarchive]

Book 1

Chapter 1:

We're All Running From Something

Quite the read. :)

A cool gentle breeze rustling through his short spiky hair as Flash runs around the track.

As his competitors approach from behind he speeds up to keep his lead. The wind picked up, people were cheering Flash in from the stands...

And....

"DARRIN WILLIAMS COMES IN FIRST!"

The announcer called out from his box within the stands. Thr crowd goes wild and starts chanting "Flash! Flash Flash!"

He made his way out of the track area, only to be halted by reporters.

"Another victory in the continued winning streak of Track Star, Darrin "Flash" Williams," a Channel 6 News anchor, Brie Walters commented as her cameraman filmed.

"Darrin may only be in college, but he has great potential to someday be in competitions such as The Olympics!"

When Brie noticed Flash, she ran to him with her microphone, "Flash! Flash! A second if you wouldn't mind!"

He stopped and looked at her. "Alright, but only for a few minutes."

Brie nodded. "How does it feel to win yet another State Track Meet?"

"Same as it always does, it feels nice to win." He stopped for a second. "But I don't run for thr medals or the trophies. It's simply just...a passion of mine."

"Besides Passion, is there anyone who motivates you to keep going with this running career?"

"Uh.." Flash had hesitated.

At this point, Brie was smiling wide, " A girl maybe.. someone like Beauty Pagent Winner, Heather Granville? You've been hanging out around her recently yeah??"

"Uh.." Flash shook his head. "No she's just a friend. But, I gotta go now."

Something was always followed Flash, something...not good, and the dread of it was sinking in so, he had to go. He ran away from the reporter, who was left suddenly confused.

Flash had run straight into Heather upon pure coincidence. Knocked them both right over.

Heather rubbed her head as Flash offered out his hand to her, he'd gotten up fast, and was very apologetic.

She accepted his hand and rubbed herself off. Today had already been a bit weird for her. She also had a splitting headache because of it.

"Its alright.. it's not the worst thing that's happened to me today...." Heather seemed kind of down, she let go if Flash's hand when she was back on her feet.

"Sorry to hear that..anything I can do to help?" Flash asked.

"Probably not unless you have 4,500 Dollars." Heather sighed.

"I most definitely do not." He was taken aback slightly. "But..what's it for? If you don't mind me asking."

She was quiet for a moment, before speaking low, "A nose job."

Flash put his head down low. "Heather, you don't need a nose job. Your nose looks fine."

"Just fine?" She asked her eyes pleading.

"More than fine, amazing flawless. You don't need to change your appearance like that to be pretty Heather." Flash said kindly, "You've got natural beauty. Not a lot of girls can say that."

"Aww," She found herself blushing at parts of Flash's words, "Thanks Flash. Means a lot."

Flash nodded in response. Half the time Heather did this sort of stuff so she could get compliments, so it's hard to tell if she was lying or being sincere.

But that's the first impression you'd normally get being acquainted with her. Flash sincerely liked her despite everything.

Maybe it's because they were both popular. Regardless the two friends hugged and went on their way.

Her heels clicked as she walked away from The Track Star. An important mission for a young adult in college.. asking her parents for money.

She'd already told Flash what she needed and he had helped her out a little, but all the other girls have been talking about Heather behind her back..

"Your nose is crooked!"

"Off Center"

"Beauty Queen isn't so pretty now huh?"

Maybe Flash was right, she is pretty and nothings wrong. Maybe these are just petty rumors spread by those who are Jealous of Heather. It's not worth the risk.

She arrived at the Café, she had asked her dad to meet her there. He was a successful businessman. Luckily she'd caught him on his lunch hour.

"Daddy," Heather looked at him with slight puppy eyes. "The other girls at my college say that my nose is crooked."

"And let me guess, you want thousands of dollars for...what? A nose job?"

"If...you would?" Heather asked nicely.

"Absolutely not." He said. "You don't need a nose job, you are a beautiful young woman okay?"

"Those other girls, well, they're just jealous."

Of course, Of course. What was Heather thinking. The world was in her grasp. Born into Beauty it seemed to even revolve around her. Truthfully, a fault of hers, conceded due to those around her. Perfectly Perfect as some would say.

Not all lives are as perfect as Heather though. Take Zoe Ingstrom for example.

She is an 8 year old girl who is the child of a broken couple. No further details needed. But it is rubbing off on her. She often makes her dolls hit each other...

That as you know is not healthy. It shouldn't be a thing a kid has to head let alone watch.

Distant yelling could be heard echoing in the halls of her house.

"WE'LL MAYBE IF YOU WEREN'T SUCH A DEADBEAT, ZOE COULD HAVE A REAL FATHER AND A GOOD LIFE."

"DEADBEAT?" A male voice countered the female voice, booming louder. "I'M NOT THE ONE GOING AROUND WITH OTHER GUYS HUH?!"

Both parents had their faults. Honestly, weren't even fit or ready to have a child.

Zoe drowned it all out with the dolls. This time she was playing house. A mommy and a daddy doll were taking their baby doll out for a picnic in a nice park.

They had sandwiches, juice, chips and everything you can think of that would be at a picnic!

Zoe used her imagination to run away from her troubles, but it only got worse outside her room.

She decided to take her favorite dolly and climb out of her window. Luckily her room was on the first.

We are all running away from something.

[undeadswagtourney]

I have been summoned to talk about my darkest lord, Skeleton king!

Skeleton King started as a mere mortal, a kindhearted man... but a curious one. His curiosity led him to open a portal to the world of The Dark Ones. Just to watch. Just to... study them. The "Good" Veran Mystics assured him his design was flawless, and he was perfectly safe. His dearest friend was worried. (Dearest friend as in startlingly close to gay lovers)

But a freak accident, (he neglected to put his aggressive baby monkey on a leash in a delicate lab setting), the safety precautions failed, and the dark ones were free to cross over. Of course, all but the most minor were too large to pass through completely, but one managed to grab hold of him. Reach into his soul. Plant a seed that would grow to destroy the universe.

Yes, he closed the portal after that, but the damage was done. He was dying. It was likely that the event had drained nearly all of the life energy from his body.. .but he needed to get to work. Someone had to stop this, and he wasn't going to force his beloved to do it. Yes, he made The Monkey Team. He wiped their memories so his love couldn't prevent them from finishing the job.

He sent them away to become warriors... and in his laboratory... he rotted.

Skin sloughed off. Fingers turned to claws. He could feel himself dying. He could feel the dark ones taking hold. He made video logs of his experiences.

Presumably, the inventions he made to pass the agonizing time turned cruel. Creating TV monster. The magic he possessed grew more powerful.

His connection to the Power Primate (this universe's version of The Force)... turned sour. Twisted. Still there, but different in ways I cannot describe.

Soon, The Alchemist was no more. Only Skeleton King remained. The bones of this kind man, held together with metal scrap and other unknown materials just trying to keep his heart beating. To keep his organs inside his body.

He found dominion over a dark, inky substance called "The Formless." Life, but undead. He grew a castle/spaceship for himself out of bone, and filled it with horrors and minions.

With his dearest friend fallen, nothing would stop him from destroying this putrid place.

..Except for the monkeys. and that prophecy nobody explained.

He went off-world, and corrupted and destroyed many of the surrounding planets in the solar system. He became worshipped by a small group of citizens.

Years of this. Years of attacking Shuggazoom and the life around it. Until all that was left was one planet with ONE populated city in this solar system. Those monkeys he made to stop himself and some RANDOM human child were succeeding. In the worst spot, too.

You see, Shuggazoom is not just a planet. It's an egg. An egg that houses the infant demon of decay, the Dark One Worm. Releasing it would destroy all life in the universe, should it go unopposed.

and the best part? He Succeeded. Mostly. The prophecy told that he would fail. That upon sacrificing The Human Boy to the worm, his power would seal the egg and save the universe.

But he left just enough sentimentality in his monkeys to force one to sacrifice themself to save the boy. Powerful, yes, and lessened the impact of the worm in the long run.... but did not save the universe from destruction.

I thank you for your submission. It is a very compelling argument.

[hey-michael-young-history]

31 Days of Christmas

Day 4: Bully

You are nothing, hún dàn.

Kuai Liang frowned as he created an axe with his ice. The cruel nickname bore through his mind from the back of his ear where it had been forcibly branded onto his skin. 

That was not his name. It was not him. 

You never wondered why Bi-Han was never called that?

The darkness provided his tormentor with cover, but the presence of this monster colored his scent with unease. 

Still cannot control yourself, hmm?

A cold metal hand grabbed his wrist. Kuai Liang froze the hand and shattered the entire being, shielding his face from the explosion of cyber parts. 

Another cold metal hand grabbed him. And then another. And more. Grabbing his arms, his hair, his clothes. 

Kuai Liang closed his eyes and concentrated. Concentrated on containing the panic that was inflaming his body. 

Something… was happening to him. 

Pains he hadn’t felt in over twenty years. Pains he hadn’t recognized until the adrenaline of Kronika’s bullshit had evaporated, and Raiden threw him back into the hell waiting for him in the place he had finally come to think of as home.

This wasn't real; it couldn't be real. 

I can’t breathe… something is wrong with my heart. His heart was racing to leap out of his chest. It wasn't just his heart; his skin was restricting him, keeping his heart within his body but trapping his soul. Restricting the ice prickling him from the inside. 

His mind was his only safe haven yet he couldn't face the truth, even there. 

“Say it, Tundra. You are in heat.”

That voice. His voice. Kuai Liang unleashed the ice, not only freezing but completely decimating the cold, unnatural hands holding him. 

“Sektor,” he snarled. “Where have you taken me? You have been dealt with.”

Then he appeared, not as a cyborg, but as a man, a face Kuai Liang had not seen in some time. 

A face that he did not miss. A face that incited absolute rage. 

Kuai Liang ran, but was quickly pulled and restrained by the cold, unnatural hands again. 

Sektor approached, morphing into his cyborg form. “Bi-Han is dead. Cyrax is gone. And your rabid Shirai Ryu dog is nowhere to be found. No one is here to save you now, hún dàn.”

Sektor grabbed Kuai Liang’s face and his human face resurfaced, staring at him with the intensity that only an Alpha could conjure, forcing the worst nightmares to resurface. “I wonder…”

There was a fire behind Sektor’s eyes, a harsh, chaotic hell roaring to swallow Kuai Liang whole. Dizziness buzzed inside of his head as the urge to vomit rose. Kuai Liang was no stranger to discomfort. But this was a plague, a threat, a punishment that long overdue. 

He looked away. 

He could hear Sektor’s laugh. “Still such a good Omega.”

The praise calmed his heart but the fact that it came from Sektor tightened his stomach until he thought it would consume itself. He sank to his knees in an effort to hold on to himself, to hold himself together. But the hands held him firmly in place. 

“Oh, that's right, hún dàn. You always were particularly sensitive to my pheromones,” Sektor mused, turning Kuai Liang to face him. “Enjoy them.”

“You are a stain upon the legacy of the Lin Kuei,” Kuai Liang growled. 

Sektor wrapped his hand around his captive's throat. “Even you know that anyone led by you will meet their demise sooner or later. You should thank me for ending their misery and using them to build flawless creations.”

As he spoke, his pheromones became more and more suffocating. His distinct scent, the unforgiving spice of peppers and the deceptive warmth of cinnamon.  It crawled all over Kuai Liang, covering every part of him and claiming him for someone he despised. 

Someone he didn't belong to. 

“Yes, that’s an excellent idea. Thank me for saving your pathetic followers.” He let go and the hands pushed him onto his knees. “Thank me the way you used to.

The way you did the last time.”

Never. Never again. The last degrading moments he spent with human Sektor convinced him that he absolutely was not human, was not the clever and brave Jing, who would sneak him extra food and tell him stories to help him sleep. 

The moment he went to Cyrax and desperately accepted the medicine that suppressed his Omega weaknesses. 

Forever. 

“Let me tell you a secret, Tundra,” Sektor offered, leaning in close. “I wanted you to be cyberized with me, not Cyrax.”

“N-never–”

“You have already surrendered your body to me, why not your soul? Who else do you think will want you, hún dàn? You are weak, you are a traitor, you are a flaw of nature. That I would even look at you is charity.”

He was lying, he was dead. Kuai Liang shut his eyes as the hands forced him down. None of that could be the truth. He rebelled because he was loyal to the Lin Kuei. It was strength, his strength and determination that rebuilt their clan. 

And he… he wasn't…

A flaw of nature. 

His existence was always resented. A male Omega. He had tried to hide it, tried to disguise it because even being a Beta in the Lin Kuei was better than what he was…

“No matter how strong you think you are, no matter how many pretenders you lead, you will always be good for only one–”

Something was dripping on his head. Kuai Liang looked up to see Sektor decapitated. Not just decapitated but split down the middle, demonstrated by both sides of him collapsing, spraying Kuai Liang with a fountain of blood that drenched him. 

Through the red, he saw Scorpion. 

Hanzo Hasashi.  

Wild and ferocious and untamed. 

He sheathed his sword and was surrounded by a blue flame that radiated from him. He unleashed it forward, burning away the cold hands that bound Kuai Liang. 

Then he stepped forward, a soothing mix of cut grass and wood and smoldering coal. 

“Ha-Hanz–” Kuai Liang ignored the pounding of his head and tried to thank him, but couldn't stand up straight. 

“Sub-Zero?”

Then everything changed. 

It was still dark, but he wasn't in some shapeless void, he was in a room, on a bed. Not his room. He didn't have a bed. 

He was still hot. His head still hurt. And there was no way he could even stand with the undulating cramps rippling through him. 

But that scent… cut grass and wood and fire. That was real, it was here and–

Oh no. 

“H-Hanzo,” Kuai Liang said with a shudder as a cramp forced him to curl up even more. 

The shock and pity on Hanzo’s face. The questions he'd have. The things he could do…

The real nightmare was starting now. 

[danpuff-ao3]

violent ask game... 8, 10 and 12 pls? :)

Also... don't be scared, fandom is not half as violent as people imply... most of the time :)

Hello there! Thanks for these! 😄

8.) common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

Hmmm! My mind sort of immediately jumps to anti-shipping 😂 That's the biggest thing I would say is common to see that I would also call wrong. The only thing people's reading/writing preferences tell you is that they enjoy reading or writing that thing. That's it. No one's a bad person for reading/writing content that makes you uncomfortable.

10.) worst part of fanon

Gosh. Partly I think confusing fanon for canon but, specifically, when people are wrong and want to argue about it. Now I will admit I'm a big lover of "Snape as Draco's godfather." I know some people don't like it, and I understand why they don't, but I will eat it up like candy! However: I know it's not canon. Also: I'm not gonna fight anyone about it. AND: on the off chance I did spout nonsense and found out I was wrong, I wouldn't double down. I'd go fact check myself and be like "oops my bad, you right." It's bad enough when people wanna get up in arms over fandom of all things, but it's worse when you're doing it when you're WRONG.

12.) the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them

SNAPE. SNAPE. SEV-ER-US SNAPE.

This feels weird because I'm obviously in the Snapedom and am surrounded by much Snape love, but...I feel like he's a character people either love or hate with very little in between.

I stumble upon Snaters in the wild and get my feelings hurt because Severus Snape was my first love. (I read the books when I was like 7 and it was love at first sight, okay?) (And I turn 31 on Monday, if that tells you anything.)

Reddit post: "List of Reasons Snape is the WORST" me: yeah I know, don't you see why I love him??

For me it's sort of twofold. The best reason I can probably sell people with is that he's a complex character. The complexity gets lost a bit when people are so hellbent on painting the portrait of a "tragic hero" or a "terrible villain." Our man has layers, okay? Like an onion.

Is he nasty and rude and cruel? Yep. Is he also intelligent and passionate and devoted? Also yep. Did he do some really fucked up shit? Yep. Did he also do some really good deeds? Also yep. This man runs the dang spectrum! Join some blood supremacists? Yikes. Die in the war effort to save the world? Okay that part I don't want to talk about, I'm still not over it.

He had horrible, terrible things happen to him. He grew up in poverty. He was in a neglectful, if not abusive environment. He was bullied in school, and sexually assaulted. But he wasn't a "good" victim, see. He wasn't a sweet lil fella. He wasn't fragile; he was sharp. And he wasn't exactly likable; which made all attacks on him seemingly "excusable." So yeah, we can see why he went down a dark path. It's not okay by any means, but surely one can understand it.

And when it came down to it, he changed his mind. A lot of people nowadays can't do that. It's hard to change your ways, and say "hey I was wrong, I'm turning away from this now." But he did. And he put himself in danger to spy on Voldemort. And yeah, this very traumatized dude went on to traumatize other people. Hurt people hurt people, as they say. But he tried. He gave so much of his time and his life to righting his wrongs.

His life was spent in suffering. All the abuse he endured. The disdain. Then his own self-hatred when he realized where he went wrong. And those wounds never healed. He was forever haunted by his pain, and by his mistakes.

Which sort of leads me to my second point: he's not perfect. He's not an easy person to love. But he's so terribly human. He's just a man who was put through the crucible time and again. He wasn't perfect. He never became this handsome, flawless gentleman. There is so much to him! There is enough to judge and hate, sure, but there's also plenty to love. And this is such a strong case of....people aren't all good or bad. His good and his bad are both so clear! And I can't get enough of it, I stg. I love this man. Truly just adore him.