#have you guys never met a child that likes sparkly things and dressing up before | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sp00kworm · 3 years

Text

Who needs lights?

Pairing: Durzub (Goth Male Orc) x Gender Neutral Reader

Warning: Suggestive Themes

This wonderful piece is based off a very lovely OC by @of-devils-and-drawings. Durzub belongs to her and I adored him too much not to make this for him. I’m a sucker for anything scary and/or orc.... and/or metal....and/or goth.

---

You’d always found a little bit of comfort being in the alternative scene, even when others stared and watched in the street as you went past, going about your business, bundled in black layers or flares and platforms. It was something unique and different and it was very much a part of your life. The bars were always better places too. You laughed at the bar at your friend as the bar tender tied his platinum, lilac streaked hair back and started to mix the cocktail for the jug. It was easier to order in large pitchers and watch the band playing from the platform the bar was on. You watched the alcohol mix as the Fae grinned at you, revealing incredibly dangerous, sharp teeth and placed two straws into the jug before sliding it closer to the two of you.

You paid for it before laughing and turning a straw to the Faun, “To our health! Well, and my new job!” You cheered.

“Oh, for sure, finally you’re not broke and can pay for drinks!” She jeered as she pursed her lips and leaned down to take a few long sips, “Jesus Christ, Flix!” She coughed, “You trying to get us drunk and make us easy, or something?”

Flix rolled his eyes as he flipped a cocktail shaker over and caught it, “You wish Pip. You two haven’t ever been my type.” He snorted as his lilac, gossamer wings fluttered behind his back in irritation. He laid his burning black eyes on a group in the corner, “Though, I like the look of those troublemakers.” A claw raised to point at the group of Orcs who were gathered in the corner.

Pip’s brown ears flicked before her hooves clicked against the black floor, the sparkly tiles reflecting the strobes from the stage. She grinned and flicked at the ring in her nose, her shaggy black hair flopping back over her dark eyes, “Oh,” She purred, “I didn’t know you were into the rowdy muscle-head sort.”

Flix flipped the cocktail again before giving her the middle finger and moving to serve the cocktail to a woman who had just come out of the crowd watching the band.

“Who are they?” You asked after taking a long drink of the cocktail, “I haven’t seen them here before?” You looked over at the group again before realising how perfectly they fit in here in the bar. All were dressed in a variety of fashion, from heavy leather, to chains, to netting. Others donned fancier items with flowing sleeves and long, tailored skirts and trousers. The majority were green in skin tone, but you looked at a few lighter coloured, grey toned orcs with interest as they were from the mountainous regions of the old country.

Pip clicked her tongue, “Muscle heads and trouble, the lot of them.” She took another few drinks before hopping back onto her bar stool and adjusting her net top over her ripped shirt. Around her waist was a thick leather belt, the studs dripping with thin metal chains that hung around her furry hips, “They come to shows like this and usually start fights.” She commented off-handedly.

With a frown, you looked from her, to the group again, “They just seem to be drinking and watching?” You commented.

Pip snorted a short bleat again, “Yeah, wait until this gig really kicks off, then you’ll see what I mean. Last time I was here with them one of them decided it would be a great idea to upturn tables, and by that, I mean, upturn my drinks over my new dress.” She hissed venomously, “They’re assholes, the lot of them.”

“They don’t look like it…” You uttered as one of the Orcs stood from the group and dragged his friend up with him to get drinks. The rest of them hollered their orders before some of the group split off to join the crowd watching the band.

“Oh great. Here they come!” Pip cheered before moving two seats down and dragging you along with her.

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Pip.” Flix commented with a hiss and flutter of his wings, “They’re all lookers, I don’t see why you can’t look past that.” He shrugged his shoulders before smiling at the two male orcs at the bar, “What can I do for you two handsome fellas?” His eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings at them and you snickered at the scent of lilac flowers that drifted from him like a thick perfume.

“Come on, Flix. Lay off it for one night will ya!” One of the orcs laughed before he elbowed his friend, “This guy’s new here. Don’t go scaring him off already. You lot need our custom.” The orc leaned back and scrubbed at his mohawk, adjusting his heavy cargo trousers. Fabric belts hung between the legs and down them and he wore a heavy half tartan kilt over the top. His face was littered with piercings and you could see why he looked like the sort to be causing problems.

“You know I love you all equally, Xurek.” Flix laughed, “But I was more excited for your lady friend over there. She’s new too huh?”

“Jesus, you never give up! Anyway,” Xurek took the other orc around the neck, “This is Durzub. He’s new in town. Just moved in from out from the sticks. He might look like a foul piece of work, but you’ve met Rakuh, so he’s not as scary.” Xurek laughed before he let the darker skinned orc go. The other male reached up to brush his black hair from his eyes. Most of his long black hair was braided in tight long threads, the braids sequenced with small beads along them with the rest straight and hanging over his shoulder beneath the wide brim of a black hat, emblazoned with a silver trim around the base. He turned, dressed in a black long shirt and coat, the end trailing behind him as he ducked out of Xurek’s grasp, brown eyes angry.

Durzub snorted and tossed his head, the braids sliding back out of his way over his shoulder before he reached up to move his tangled chains from the ends of his hair, the necklaces hanging with silver teeth, “Will you stop dragging me around like a child, Xurek!” He snorted as he dragged his arm out of Xurek’s grasp and adjusted his hat again before sighing and taking it off, “Any way I could get you to store this behind the bar for me? Its new and these lot have a habit of throwing beer the later it gets.”

Flix fluttered his eyelashes again, “Sure thing, sweetheart.” He took the hat and turned around to hang it near the aprons, “Just grab me before closing and I’ll get it you.”

“Thank you.” Durzub rumbled before pulling his hair back again, tucking the straight length on his left side behind his ear, revealing rings of silver and studs of obsidian, which matched the rings, linked by a chain, on each of his short tusks.

“Don’t be nice to him, Durzub, he’ll eat you alive given the opportunity.” Xurek snickered behind his hand as he flapped his band shirt, trying to cool himself down, “His family ate children back in the day.”

“That was five hundred years ago!” Flix scoffed as he slammed two, pint glasses down on the bar, “So, was it two ales or two lagers?”

“We were thinking mead actually.” Xurek stuck his pierced tongue out before he played with the bar, “And not that piss water Weldrick buys for the goblins!” Flix ignored him and turned for the taps down the other end of the bar.

Pip scoffed at the exchange, but you found your mouth opening at the sight of the long-haired orc and his scowl. He watched Flix’s wings before he turned away from Xurek’s chattering and pushed his hand over his mouth. You watched the exchange as Xurek stuck his tongue between the other’s fingers and couldn’t help but laugh loudly as Durzub cringed and recoiled.

“You’re fuckin’ disgusting.” Durzub rolled his eye and took a napkin from the holder to wipe the spit from his fingers and the skull rings which sat above his knuckles.

“Mmm, you taste like fresh meat.” Xurek hissed like a comically bad vampire, and you laughed again, but this time louder. It was loud enough that the two orcs looked down the bar to where you and Pip were sat with your cocktail jug.

“Well done! Now we have their attention.” Pip hissed in your ear before she kicked at your chair with one shoed hoof, clanking the metal with a vicious bang.

Xurek’s smile made you regret everything, as you watched his gaze shift from your face to the larger orc stood next to him, “Looks like we have an audience, Durzub.”

The other male turned slightly on one heel, looking at you both with a raised eyebrow, looking over the two of you perched at the end of the bar, “Don’t mind this freak. He’s got a way of making everyone hate him.”

“Oh, that’s fuckin’ cold!” Xurek hissed at him, “After I introduce you to those bands too!”

Durzub rolled his eyes again as Xurek slinked around him to laze across the bar on one arm, his head propped up on his fist, “Bands which have given me nothing but persistent headaches.”

“Headaches but three magazine features!” Xurek wound his middle finger up before he smiled at the two of you again, “Ignore him. He was castrated at birth.” The statement earned him another gruff noise from Durzub.

“We don’t want your attention, Xurek.” Pip gave him a sardonic smirk, “Not unless you’re replacing those drinks from last time.” She leaned on her own open palm and bared her teeth at him, her hoof clicking against the bar stool.

“You’re a cold bitch, Pip. You know that was an accident.” Xurek whined, “Highlander honour.” He crossed his heart, “Anyway, why don’t I introduce you to my new friend here?” He wrapped his arm around Durzub, making the other spill mead down his fingers as he dragged him over to the two of you, “This is Durzub. He’s a music producer, and part time good looker.”

“You’re a music producer?” You asked in awe before you turned and looked at the stage, “Are you here for these guys?” You pointed at the industrial band on stage as the lights went low and they started the intro for their next song. At the back here it wasn’t as loud, and you could readily hear the two orcs.

“Yeah. They’re a new signing.” Durzub rolled his shoulders in a shrug, “I never really sign their sort, but it seems like they have a decent following.”

“Come on, mate, we’re here to chill out, not to talk work.” Xurek groaned and laid against the sticky bar top before recoiling in disgust.

“I know, you great oaf.” Durzub placed Xurek’s drink next to him, “Are you both here to see the show?” He asked, his voice slipping from ‘totally pissed off’ into something that was ‘gruff but polite’. Either way, his soft country accent made you smile before you took a few mouthfuls of cocktail for courage.

Pip answered before you could swallow, “We come on a Friday to wind down. The gigs are always just a bonus.”

She shot a look at you with her dark, goat eyes, warning you from speaking as she steered the conversation, “What about you guys? You here to bother people on their nights off?”

“Well, we know where we ain’t wanted.” Xurek shrugged his shoulders at Pip’s rudeness, “Sorry to harass you, but you don’t have to be a salty asshole about spilt drinks, you know.” He watched Pip’s temper flare and you ducked back as she slammed her hand against the bar top.

“You listen here you little asshole!”

“Little?” Xurek scoffed, “I tower over you, babe.”

Pip gave a bleat of anger before she swept her leg around you and cracked Xurek in the shin, “It was my new dress you ass for brains!” She hissed at him before she stood up to walk around you and face the orc head on.

“What do you want me to say, huh?!” Xurek goaded, “Oh I’m so sorry that my accident ruined something I couldn’t stop. Get over yourself thinking I did it on purpose!” He fumed with anger.

You leaned back before hopping out of your chair, taking the jug of cocktail in one hand and a tall glass in the other before you turned to Durzub, “Hey come on. They’re going to be screeching for a while. Want to go and sit on the balcony and watch?”

Durzub seemed a little taken back by the offer, “Oh, sure.” He uttered as he pulled Xurek’s drink away from him and then took his own in hand and following you towards the stairs, leading to the viewing area above the pit. You found two stools and a table and happily placed your drinks on it before leaning on the railing to look down at the band as they headbanged together on stage.

Durzub sat awkwardly for a moment before he coughed behind his head, “So, what is it that you do?” He asked as he leaned over the table, eyeing the mixture of liquor and fruit juice in your jug.

You turned from the show and smiled, “Oh nothing as interesting as music production. I just got hired at a new modelling agency.”

“Do you model then?” He asked with wide eyes, “Because you’re certainly…”

“Oh, God no. Nothing like that. I work with brands and secure deals and shoots. I work with Skull Crusher and Tombstone mostly.” You smiled and sipped cocktail through your straw.

Durzub tucked his hair back again with a sweep of his hand, “That explains the look then.” He smiled softly, “Do you get some sweet discounts?” He asked.

“Like you wouldn’t believe. It’s never been cheaper to be a goth!” You cheered as you looked down at the rowdy beginnings of a mosh pit, then back to the bar.

You gave a great laugh, “Well, looks like their argument is sorted.” You pointed at Xurek with his bruised cheek. He slammed back his drink before storming away into the pit, rushing through a mosh pit before his eyes caught sight of a human among the others. You grinned at his expression. Dumb struck.

“Jesus. I hope they’re ready to be pestered.” Durzub chugged a few mouthfuls of mead before he scoffed, “Whenever he gets that look, he ends up heartbroken a week later.”

“Well, it might be different this time, you know?” You smiled back at Durzub, “Maybe this is the one!” You cooed.

“You’ve got fairy tales in your head and cotton candy to go with it. He’s going to have a one-night stand then not shut up about her for the next three weeks.” Durzub held up three fingers as he drank some more, “Or he’ll relay every little detail to us on our next outing. He has zero filter.”

“I can tell that much.” You laughed as you shuffled back in your seat, “What about you then, have you met your one?”

“My one?” Durzub scoffed, “Hardly. How old do you think I am?” He leaned on his fist and pointed back at himself, giving you a curious look.

You felt like this was a trap, “Are you doing this so you can get mad when I guess wrong?” You asked as you pushed the ice around in the glass.

“Hardly. I’m not sensitive.” He grumbled as his painted fingers tapped against the side of the pint glass.

“Hmm, if you say so.” You leaned over the table to squint at his face. You’d worked with a few orcs before, but most were young models, sharp featured and tall, broad in the shoulders. Durzub was the same, though his face had wrinkles in places which would suggest he was far over twenty years old, “Thirty-six.” You decided with a smile.

Durzub let out a low laugh, “Not far off actually. I’m thirty-eight.” He pointed to the stage, “And I used to do that. Played in a band until about five years ago. Started as a producer then. Never looked back.”

“Oh wow. Who did you used to play with?” You asked in awe.

“A gothic rock sort of deal.” He replied before he looked into your pleading eyes, and relented, “Zi Gijak.”

“No way.” You rushed to stand from your seat as you recognised the Orcish name, “Black Blood!?”

Durzub ducked his head, reaching for where his hat had sat before he realised, he wasn’t wearing it, “Keep your voice down, please.” He begged quietly, “I don’t need people in this place to recognise me.”

“How could they recognise you now? You look nothing like you did back in the day.” You stated before realising what you said sounded rude, “Not that you look bad now it’s just…”

He laughed at your awkwardness, “I know. I ditched the netting and bones a while ago.”

“You didn’t look half bad in it though, even five years ago.” You winked at him with a sudden rush of confidence, “Though I think this outfit suits you just as much.”

Suddenly, it was as though the intimidating exterior melted, and you watched Durzub’s face go flushed with embarrassment, “Thanks. It has been a change.”

Without making him any more embarrassed you changed the subject a little, “So what bands do you produce for now?” You asked.

“Quite a few. I used to work with SIREN before they got huge, but that sort of metal was never something I could do rather well, I thought.” He shrugged, “They’re with a more focused label now.”

“No way…This keeps getting better and better!” You uttered again.

“Better and better for you. They were a headache and a half for me!” Durzub chuntered into his drink before he swallowed the last bits of it, “I’m glad they’ve moved up. They were good for business.” He smirked over the edge of the pint glass.

“Only thinking of the money.” You tutted playfully, “That’s no way to treat your bands.” You joked.

“Oh no, but that makes me feel better knowing my weekly migraines are worth the agony.” Durzub chuckled as he watched the band on stage, “These guys ain’t half bad for a show though. I think I picked the best from the bucket.”

“They have an interesting ensemble.” You smirked at the leather clad demoness as she slinked along the stage before she growled from her stomach, a crop landing against the hand of a handsy looking fan in the front.

“Interesting but it’s the sort of thing that gets you recognised.” Durzub noted as he watched, “This place is a refuge for all kinds of people. I’m glad Cal has got this place running with Weldrick.”

“Who’s Cal? I’ve met Weldrick. Giant bright white minotaur, right? Build like a brick shit house with all the piercings?” You recalled.

Durzub nodded, “That’s him. He’s about eight foot tall too. Scariest mother fucker I ever did meet.” He shifted in his seat, “Cal is the co-owner, but he’s not around that often. He’s a vampire, but he’s not people fond.” The orc shrugged before offering you half a smile, “We all used to work together, believe it or not.”

“Wait…” Your mouth dropped open, “I’m actually stupid.”

“Cal was the singer of Black Blood. Weldrick ran our security back in the day.” He laughed at your open mouth before he leaned over to close your mouth with two large fingers. He brushed his fingers over your chin before leaning back and pointing to your drink, “Do you want anything else?”

“I’m okay thanks. I’ll keep your seat warm.” You joked as he stood up with a nod and grumbled about having something better than ‘shitty mead’.

“I’ve never seen Durzub ever sit and talk with someone in a bar.” A deep, gravelly voice rang out from behind you. You turned around in your chair to see a tall, human looking male watching you, his sunglasses perched on the end of his nose as he regarded you with a mild amount of curiosity from over the lenses. He reached out a hand awkwardly, “Cal.”

“As in…” You took his hand, and flinched at the stone coldness of his grip, “Co-owner of the bar, Cal?”

“The very same.” He shook your hand lightly before his hand disappeared quickly back into his pocket, “I just came to say hello. I was curious. He hates attention in these kinds of places…”

“Just like you then, apparently.” You observed as you turned on your seat to face him. He was a giant man, but stony cold, and overly pale, looking almost grey around his reflective, steel-coloured eyes. They shone red as he turned, the bouncing curls of black hair spilling over his shoulders before he reached for a cigarette packet and cursed, seeing it was empty with only his lighter inside.

“Cal?” Durzub returned with a large looking ale in his hand, “Weird time to show yourself. Unless you were planning to steal this one for a snack, hmm? As usual.” He scoffed.

“You know I’ve been off the blood for years…” Cal whispered as he rummaged in his other back pocket, before finding a small, slim packet of chewing gum, “I don’t…”

“Yeah. Save it. That’s what you said last time, Clarence.” Durzub huffed into his drink.

Cal’s back went ridged before he stooped over and unfolded the wrapper of his gum, “You don’t get to call me that.” He whispered again, his gravelly tone rumbling in the back of his throat before he slunk away, back into the shadows, and disappeared in a shadowy wave of his black hair.

“Sorry you had to see that.” Durzub rumbled from across the table, “Its…complicated.”

You span back around and smiled, “Don’t worry about it. I think Pip had more of a fight with Xurek.” You snickered as you turned to spy her sat at the bar, batting her eyelashes at Flix as he served, “Though I think she’s okay now. She’s turned her eyes on a certain someone.”

Durzub looked down at the bar and laughed as well, “Well I guess you know her type now.” He joked as he sipped at his ale.

“Yep. Scary pretty boys, who aren’t part of your friends.” You snickered as you sipped at the last of your cocktail and refreshed the glass.

The band on the stage purred their final song as you took another drink, and you looked at your phone with wide eyes at the time.

“I have to get up tomorrow for errands.” You lamented, looking at the clock. It was almost midnight, and you knew Pip would be here for hours if you left her to her own devices.

“So, this is where the night ends.” Durzub laughed before he finished the last of his own drink, “Here.” He tugged out his phone, “Let me give you my number?”

You nodded and took your phone out to exchange numbers before checking it was working and showing him the message came through okay.

“Thank you for tonight.” You smiled at him, “We should do this again.” You leaned over and carefully placed a kiss on his flushed cheek, “For an grumpy music producer, you’re funny to be around.” You took your bag and looked at Xurek, who was busy pressing a human against the far wall, “And look after Xurek, huh? Looks like he might just get himself into trouble again.” You descended the stairs just as the orcs started cheering for the male and shook your head.

After speaking to Pip, and confirming she had a taxi to get home, you exited the bar and shivered in the cold, before you felt a warm presence behind you, and a hand catch your own.

“Hey!” Durzub grunted as he caught your hand, “Let me walk you home?” He asked, “No way in hell I’m staying to watch those lot gawk at Xurek strip a human down.” He sneered. His sneer softened as you interlinked your fingers together and squeezed his hand before looping an arm through his own, leaning into his body heat.

“Sure. You can walk me home.” You leaned into his arm again and smiled, “I live three blocks away, so it’s a bit of a short walk.”

“Better to spend time with you.” Durzub whispered before he looked at the night sky, “I’m still sorry about what happened with Cal…”

“Honestly, it never happened, okay?” You patted the orc’s large arm, “We all have our differences and reasons.”

“Still. I was rude.” He huffed before he reached for his hat and tugged at the brim, “I’m glad I got to meet you at least tonight.” You tried to ignore the way he tugged at his bottom lip before he adjusted the decorative chain over his lip and smiled, still a little awkward.

“Me too.” You purred back at him.

The messages started off polite between the two of you, but it was quickly a regular thing for you both to message back within a minute or two depending on if Durzub was working in the studio or you were in meetings. You were both enamoured. It didn’t take long for you both to meet again, eating together in a restaurant which was a little bit too expensive for you. It was high end, and suited Durzub as he sat there eating, looking intimidating as he ate couscous and chopped vegetables before smiling and blushing with embarrassment as you complimented him and his outfit. For such a giant orc, with a bigger scowl, he was softened whenever you said something nice. Several nights together on dates lead to this one, finally going to his studio to see what he did, and to listen to something he had been working on. Excitement churned in your gut as you looked at the choker around your neck and touched the spikes around its surface before flicking the dog tag and grinning at yourself before you rushed for the door to meet Durzub.

“Hey!” You shouted at the orc. He was stood out on the pavement, dressed in an old print of a Black Blood shirt with a screaming orc and vampire on the front, blood dripping from both of their mouths. He was dressed in dark jeans, littered with pocket chains and a heavy leather duster to combat the cool breeze. He looked up from beneath his broad rim hat. Instantly, Durzub’s perpetual scowl turned into a small smile, and you took hold of his hand before leaning up to kiss his cheek before placing a soft kiss against his bottom lip. He was always a little slow to catch up, but he returned the kiss with a gentle rub of his tusks to your chin.

“Hey stranger.” He rumbled before he gestured to the building, “My studio is on the sixth floor.”

“This doesn’t look much like a record label building to me.” You hummed as Durzub led you into the reception. A naga waved him on up with you, looking back at her work with a hiss and a grumpy frown.

“Not yet it doesn’t. Wait until we get into the actual building. This is just the polite front for greeting people.” The elevator dinged as he pressed the button and the two of you climbed inside. He pushed the button for the sixth floor and you jittered with anxiety as it moved upwards slowly.

“I’m excited and nervous.” You whispered as the doors opened on floor two and let some more people in.

“Don’t be, baby. You’ll be fine.” Durzub soothed as you continued up.

The sixth floor was littered with records on the walls, gold, red, black and mixed dyes. You looked along the walls before Durzub tugged you down the carpeted hall. You followed a step or so behind, trying to read the framed records as you toddled behind him, little out of your depth. Durzub’s coat trailed behind him and you moved to not step on it as he stopped at his door. He unlocked it with a click of an electronic card and you watched the black door swing open to reveal the sound room.

“Wow.” You stepped inside in front of him and looked at the expensive sound equipment, keeping your hands to yourself to avoid being told off or ruining anything, “This is some expensive gear.” You grinned at him, “And pretty.” You peered past the soundproof glass to see the guitars and drum kit in the recording box and smiled at the pointed-v design one, knowing it was from when he played with Black Blood.

“I knew you’d spot that one.” Durzub said mildly before he threw his coat over a speaker and collapsed into his large office chair, the leather making him shiver with the cold against his arms, “This is where I spend most of my life, making kids realise that riffs are stupid in the wrong places.” He scoffed before tugging you a chair from the other soundboard and patting it, “Come sit. I have some things to show you.”

Carefully, you placed your coat on top of Durzub’s before joining him by the large computers, eyeing the two screens as he logged in, squinting at the screen.

“Fuck. Glasses.” He reached into his desk drawer and pulled free a set of circle frame glasses, putting them on before cringing and looking back at you, “Not as young as I used to be…”

“You look cute in them.” You gushed as you scooted the roller chair forwards and made sure to sit as close to him as possible, “Being able to see is important, even if you don’t look as scary with glasses on.” You teased.

“Yeah…” He let the words drop off as he found what he was looking for and pulled free two sets of expensive headphones. Durzub leaned over and gently tucked them over your ears, holding them and holding up an ‘okay’ sign before he donned his own and pressed play. He leaned back in his chair and you sat impatiently before the noise of a gentle synth graced your ears, opening with a gentle melody before a guitar followed the same rhythm before chugging to life with slow riffs. It was gentle somehow still as the guitar started on a slowly moving rhythm along into the beginnings of a verse, sung by a vocalist you recognised as Durzub. The lyrics lilted about roses on a hill, growing in a graveyard around a forgotten tombstone before you grinned at the references to old vampire movies that the two of you enjoyed. The chorus was met with a litany of soft guitar and synth before a drum solo full of soft cymbal carried on. It was something made for the two of you, and you wondered just how long Durzub had spent making this song. Looking at the poorly hidden bags under his eyes, you figured it had been most nights after work.

In the closing synth of the son, you laid your head against Durzub’s arm, against the tattoo of the roses around the gravestone. You pressed your lips to his skin gently before smiling and tugging the headphones down to around your neck, smiling up at the orc. Durzub copied the motion with another small smile, reaching to stroke at the top of your head

“That was beautiful. It’s hard to believe you made that just for me.” You whispered against his warm skin as the orc flushed with embarrassment, “Did you mean the part about making love on graves?” You teased gently before you slipped from your own chair, and into his lap, your fingers sliding up over the tattoos on his arms, tracing the thorns of the roses down before you traced the edge of the stem curling over his collar bone.

“Maybe not. Stone gives you a bad back.” He rumbled as his pupils went wide, watching your fingers as they slipped under the collar of his t-shirt, “But I would worship you just the same.” His hands moved from the computer to your hips, his fingers pressing into the meat of your backside before he leaned forwards to kiss you. You gladly accepted the advance, kissing the orc back, your tongue licking at his lips before you traced the rings around his tusks and wrapped your arms tighter around his neck.

A soft moan escaped Durzub’s mouth as you pulled away. His lips were puffy and you leaned forwards to bite his lip, enjoying the second croak that escaped him as you leaned back on his thighs.

“What about this desk?” You asked under your breath.

Durzub grumbled, “There’s a lot of…” Your hand meeting his crotch shorted his brain for a moment, “I can make room.” He grumbled before he pushed the keyboard and monitor aside, leaving the desk free for you both. You laid back over the wood and grinned as you tugged on one of his tusks, forcing his face down so you could lay another kiss on his lips. Durzub moaned again as you reached up into his dark hair, tugging the braids at his scalp.

“Maybe you should make good on your song lyrics.” You purred as you kissed his cheeks and then bit at his neck before sucking a mark under his ear.

“Fuck.” Durzub hissed before he leaned over you, his fingers tugging at your clothes before he admired the collar around your neck and gave it a tug, “I hope you didn’t have any other plans.”

Neither of you saw the audio recording button flashing red.

‘Everything was recorded. I’m keeping it. See you at the bar. x’

#orc x reader #male orc x reader #orc x gender neutral reader #orc #orcs #monster x reader #monster bf #monster bf x reader #monster boy x reader #monster boyfriend #my writing #original works #reader insert

300 notes · View notes

writeforfandoms · 3 years

Text

Merry Go Round of Life 6

Not me sneaking in at 11pm on Thursday to post the chapter that was supposed to go up last Saturday. And also inform you that this Saturday I will not be home so there will be no chapter.

But! I’m working on chapter 7! Stuff is picking up now, I think you guys are gonna like it.

Find my masterlist

This will be Din Djarin x f!reader eventually. Don’t hold your breath folks, this one’s a slow burn. Sort of.

Warnings: Some swearing I think? Somewhat political discussion.

Taglist (Lemme know if you want on or off!): @tibbietibbs @fandom-blackhole @pedrocentric @shoopidly @sarahjkl82-blog @cannedsoupsucks @beskarprincessjenny

Also @zinzinina Come get your cowboy!

Chapter six: In which there is discussion of a Witch

The next few days passed peacefully enough. Djarin was gone about half the time, and when he was around he largely left you to your own devices. The child migrated between the two of you, enjoying the attention and play time. Djarin had returned from one trip with an armful of toys, all of which the child adored.

You were still no closer to figuring out Peli's curse but you were feeling better about the situation. Honestly, things could be worse. You'd even found some clothes to wash and repair, a task that kept you busy for a few days.

The kid was playing with Djarin one evening as you sat in your customary chair, mending a pair of socks. For all that Djarin was quiet and hard to read, he was good with the kid, very patient.

“What brought you out here?” Djarin asked suddenly, tilting his helmet towards you so you knew he was addressing you.

“Hm?” You blinked at him, caught off-guard.

“We’re not exactly near Kalevala,” Djarin continued. You could feel his gaze on you, assessing. “You must have walked all day to get to the castle, at least.”

“Who says I came from Kalevala?” you asked, feeling a little nervous now. Not that you’d done anything wrong, certainly. But his gaze was making you feel a little wary, almost. You refocused on the socks, carefully stitching a hole closed.

“You’ve mentioned it a few times,” Djarin said. “You don’t come from one of the farms, they’re all close-knit family groups. You talk about your family, but they clearly didn’t live with you. So, Kalevala.”

Honestly, you were impressed with that logic. It was accurate, certainly. “It did take me all day to get out far enough to find this place,” you agreed after a few moments of silence. You still didn’t look up from your stitching.

“So why here?” Djarin pressed. Out of the corner of your eye you saw him lean forward, towards you.

“I was looking for a wizard,” you decided on, shrugging. “Hadn’t met one before.” Technically true. You’d met a witch. “Didn’t count on finding work here, but I’d heard you help people sometimes.”

The wizard nodded after a moment, seemingly accepting that. “You shouldn’t have travelled alone,” he told you after several moments of silence. “It’s not safe out in Tatooine.”

You scoffed. “I had nothing on me worth stealing,” you pointed out reasonably.

“I wasn’t talking about bandits,” the wizard admitted. “I was talking about the witch of the waste.”

You turned your head sharply to look at him. “What?”

“Her name is Bo-Katan Kryze,” the wizard told you, leaning back in his chair again. The kid was silent on his lap, looking between the two of you. “She’s been living out near Tatooine for years now. Gained a reputation.”

“What kind of reputation?” you asked slowly, your heart pounding in your chest.

“She’s… ruthless.” Djarin shifted in his seat, one hand supporting the kid’s back. “There’s something she wants, and she’s been getting bolder the last year trying to get it.”

“But you live out here,” you pointed out, quite reasonably you thought. “You don’t seem concerned.”

“She knows better than to come at me.” The wizard sounded wryly amused, for some reason. “But I wouldn’t put it past her to send someone else in her stead.”

It took a minute, but his meaning sank into your head, and you dropped the sock in outrage.

“I would never!” you protested, outright glaring at the wizard now. “She’s the one who--” The words caught in your throat, and for a moment you choked on nothing. Then you pulled in a breath. “That witch,” you hissed, sounding absolutely venomous. “If I ever get my hands on her…”

Djarin relaxed at that. “You’d probably end up dead,” he said, sounding amused now. “Like I said. She’s ruthless.”

“Oh I’d like to see her try to kill me now,” you growled.

“Djarin,” Peli snapped, leaned all the way back away from you. Your walking stick clattered to the floor from where it rested against your cot. The kid whimpered, and your gaze fixed on him.

“Here,” Djarin said, suddenly shoving the kid at you. You took him, holding him close and shushing him gently, as Djarin strode over to pick up your walking stick. He held it for a few moments before replacing it, carefully. Peli relaxed, settling into her logs again.

Quiet settled over the room again for a few moments as everyone, including you, calmed down. The kid eventually settled against your chest to nap, one little hand holding tight to your dress.

“What’s so important that this witch is after?” you asked, keeping your voice down so as not to disturb the little one.

Djarin turned his helmet towards you before he sighed. “Something she thinks will give her power,” he eventually answered.

You snorted quietly at that but stayed quiet, closing your eyes briefly. That didn’t exactly answer why she’d cursed you, though. She’d said you would do. But would do for what?

One thing was for certain. Life was much more complicated than it had been pre witches and wizards.

There were too many unanswered questions, and you didn’t even know where to start looking for answers.

A sharp knock on the door interrupted your musing, and you blinked at the door. Djarin’s helmet turned to the door as well.

“Er, it’s the Tatooine door,” Peli said, sounding surprised.

Djarin stood and grabbed something from the worktable, holding it against his thigh as he opened the door. You stood and carefully set the child down on the chair, creeping up behind Djarin to see what was going on.

A man stood on the other side of the door in a red shirt and dark pants. His silver hair gleamed in the sunlight, and he looked faintly nervous.

“You the wizard?” he asked, giving Djarin a quick once over. At the wizard’s silent nod, he continued, “We’re havin’ a problem with a… creature. Dunno what to call it. But it’s ruinin’ crops.”

“Where?” Djarin asked.

“That way, off a ways,” the stranger said, turning and pointing. “My village isn’t far from here, I can give you better directions from there.”

“Describe the creature.” Djarin leaned against the doorframe, and you finally noticed the castle had obligingly stopped moving. You peered around Djarin to get a better look at the stranger and get an idea of where you were. Sand stretched out around you, although you could still see green off in the distance. Clearly you were a long ways from Kalevala. The thought made you somehow nervous, in a way that the door opening on Kamino or Mandalore had not.

“It’s big,” the stranger said, motioning with his hands. “Has one great horn at the end of its nose. Tall. Sturdy. Four legs. Far ‘s we can tell, it eats plants.”

Djarin nodded. “I can get rid of it,” he agreed. “I’ll need payment.”

“Here.” The stranger pulled something out of his pocket, holding it out for Djarin to take, though his gaze kept sliding to you curiously. “We found it not far away. Figured you’d know something to do with it.”

Djarin took the object carefully and turned it over in his hand, examining it. It looked like a crystal - pretty, sparkly, rough-cut. But it was an unusual color, a beautiful deep blue. More unusual than that was that it was almost vibrating. Not exactly, though. You didn’t quite have the words to describe it. The crystal wasn’t moving but the air around it felt charged, thrumming.

It felt magic.

Djarin slowly looked back at the stranger. “Show me where you found this and I’ll get rid of the creature for you,” he rasped.

“Sure thing,” the stranger agreed, looking at you yet again. “Didn’t know you had a witch here too.”

“She works for me,” Djarin grunted before you could say anything. “Wait here.” He turned and gently pushed you back inside in front of him, shutting the door before the stranger could say anything. “Grab the kid. You two are coming with me.”

#Merry go round of Life #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #howl's moving castle au

81 notes · View notes

donutloverxo · 4 years

Text

Temptations

Note - For the lovely @justagirlinafandomworld 's challenge! And for my sweet fellow hoes @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817

Hope y'all like it❤❤ Also a prequel of sorts to new years eve.

Summary - You know you only want him because you can't have him. But you still can't help yourself.

Warnings - smut, cheating, spanking, name calling, light anal stuff, like a small mention of choking (blink and you'll miss it).

Prompts - "I was fine before I met you" + Toxic cover by Sofia Karlberg for @justagirlinafandomworld

"Did you just....smack my ass?" + "Shh...be good for me" for navy and siri.

Pairing - Ransom Drysdale x reader

Word count - 4k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

Your mother always told you to find a man who could take care of you.

Love doesn’t bring food on the table or a roof over your head.

Don’t be like your sister.

Don’t let those Disney movies fool you.

This is a materialistic world and money is the universal language.

As a kid it was annoying. Even more so when you fell for a guy, who your mother certainly didn’t approve of, who ended up breaking your heart into a million little pieces.

You learned as a teen; that the fairytales did lie to you. Love isn’t some magical force which is completely out of one’s control. You could love anyone if you tried hard enough.

Having grown up poor you always yearned for those sparkly things. So you made sure to make friends with some rich kids in college. But deep down you knew they only ever saw you as a charity case. A story, a means to diversify their social circle.

Which is why you took your mothers advice. Trapped your college roommates brother. Bryce. He was alright. But nothing more than that. You did care for him. But you lied whenever you told him that he was more to you. That he was a part of you.

Your soul ached every time you said ‘I love you’ to him. Because you didn’t mean it. It was all a lie. A farce. You wondered if he loved you as much as he claimed he did.

Even though you knew the answer. He didn’t.

He was the black sheep of his family. You knew he only dated you to get some sort of revenge on them. Wanting to be different and go against the flow. He secretly relished in how much his mother hated you. How you weren’t from old money. Or any sort of money.

As if being rich inherently makes you worthy.

Which was also why he had bought you along to meet his friends.

That’s when you saw him.

You knew he was trouble the minute you laid eyes on him. His chestnut hair swept back. The blue cable knit sweater he wore bringing out the blue of his cold hard eyes. Which also really did nothing to hide his large frame.

His long tan coat swirled around as he walked towards you. It was something you noticed. He walked with purpose. As if he owned the damn place.

You watched Bryce embrace him in a tight hug. They were apparently friends since middle school. You gulped down cowering under his intense gaze as he shook your hand.

You exhaled a shaky breathe, the warmth his hand electrifying your nerves. You quickly excused yourself, afraid that you were being too obvious about your instant attraction to him. That if you stayed in the vicinity of him you’d do something you would come to regret later.

You came out to the garden. Taking in the fresh air. Away from the rich people. And their suffocating stench.

You jumped when you heard Ransom call out your name.

You turned around to look at him. Only now he had shed his coat and sweater and was only dressed in a tight white shirt. Which was really messing with your head.

“You don’t like the party?” He asked. Very aware of the effect he had on you. It wasn’t very hard to tell. You weren’t exactly being subtle.

“Oh uh... that’s not it. I just needed some air.” You nodded to yourself. Playing with your hands to keep occupied as he stepped closer to you. Crowding you with the musky scent of his cologne.

“You mind if I keep you company?” He asked but he didn’t really expect an answer. With the way you refused to even look at his face he doubted you’d give him one.

He bought his hand up to play with your hair. Twirling a strand between his fingers. “I hope to see you this Christmas.” He smirked at the cute confused expression you gave him after you finally looked up at him. “We’re going to the Bahamas? Ring any bells?” He said as if he was talking to a child. You only shook your head no. “I’ll make sure Bryce brings you along then.” He drawled tracing your cheek and jaw with his finger.

“Ransom what’re you doing?” You stammered looking around to make sure no one was around.

“I’m not doing anything.” He shrugged parting your lips with his thumb.

“Yes you are!” You scolded him but kept your voice low. “Someone will see.” You tried to take his hand off of your face but it only made him grab a tight hold of your jaw.

“Now don’t play all innocent with me.” He laughed cruelly as you hissed under his harsh touch. “I saw those fuck me eyes you were giving me.” He leaned in so close to you that you could feel his hot breath fanning on your face. “What? You think you can just tease anyone you want and get away with it? It might work on other idiots but not me.”

You squirmed in his hold, fighting him to free yourself. But he was much stronger than you.

He sneered at your resistance and leaned in to whisper in your ear. “I’ll see you this Christmas.” He said. His tone letting on that he wasn’t done with you. He abruptly let go of you giving you a grin and walking away.

You stuck by Bryce’s side the rest of the night. You thought Ransom wouldn’t try anything when Bryce was right there. But the way Bryce was fawning over ransom you had a feeling he probably would let Ransom fuck you in front of him.

You were almost impressed by how charming and casual he was when spoke to you in front of Bryce and all his friends. No one would suspect a thing.

Hell he had you fooled. Was the encounter in the garden your imagination? Was your mind playing tricks on you.

You decided that it absolutely wasn’t when you felt Ransom pinch your behind as he helped you into the uber. You gasped loudly plumping down in the backseat. Staring at Ransom completely take aback.

“You okay babe.” You heard Bryce mumbled beside you, his eyes shut as he leaned against the glass window. Too drunk to notice what was going on right next to him.

“Yeah you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Ransom put his hand on your shoulder. A faux look of concern on his face.

“I’m totally fine!” You held your breathe trying to close your door but his huge body was blocking it.

“Make sure to bring this one along Bryce.” He was speaking to Bryce but his eyes were glued to you. “You have a good night sweetheart.”

You sat completely still not moving a single muscle as he pressed a light barely there kiss to your cheek.

You felt like you could finally breathe after getting far, far away from him.

You made a thousand excuses trying your best to convince Bryce that you just can’t make it. But he wasn’t having any of it.

“I never ask you for anything. I don’t know. Maybe we’re not the right fit for each other.” He had said threatening to break up with you.

You found yourself resenting him even more. How he couldn’t stand up to his 'friend’ and just say no. That you can’t make it. How hard could it possibly be?

You didn’t know who was more pathetic. You or Bryce.

How even after how sleazy Ransom acted around you, you still found yourself thinking of him whenever you dipped your fingers between your thighs. How you wished with every fibre of your being to just let him have his way with you. Why can’t you be bad just this once?

You were down right terrified of ransom maybe the thrill was the reason you were so attracted to him. Giving you an adrenaline rush you actually mistook for any sort of attraction. Or at least that’s how you choose to justify it.

You arrived at your hotel before Ransom. Meeting up with a few of Bryce’s friends. Binging on margaritas. That you almost forgot about why you were so anxious in the first place.

Your joy didn’t last long. As he showed up. The first thing you noticed was how his hair was a few inches longer. No longer styled with gel, messed up from his flight. He only seemed to mess it up further as he ran a hand through his hair.

As you expected he was inconspicuous. Not giving you anymore attention than the others. Which only made you want him more.

Why would he just ignore you after giving you so much attention last time. Even if said attention was unwanted.

You didn’t dare look too long at him. You did steal some glances. He did catch you a couple of times. But if he noticed he didn’t let it show.

After the long day you had laid flat on your comfy mattress. Almost asleep when you felt Bryce’s prying hands working on taking off your dress.

“I’m so tired babe.” You pecked his lips hoping that’d be the end of it. You really were exhausted from the cat and mouse game you played with Ransom.

Bryce made a sound of disapproval. “I took you on such a nice vacation. The least you can do is say thank you.” He demanded.

Not really having it in you to argue any further with him, you got down on your knees and took him in your mouth. Working him up with your hands and tongue. He never could last that long and you knew all his weaknesses.

“God shit will you do something about your hair” He chided trying to bunch your hair up in a ponytail.

You rolled your eyes and looked for your hair tie. Tying your hair up in a haphazard ponytail before getting back to business. He finished in just a few minutes. Collapsing on his side of the bed. “Just wake me up in a few hours babe. I’ll take care of you then.” His words muffled by his pillow.

You could only scoff at that. As if. He had yet to make you cum even once. You had become quite the actress by faking it with him.

You decided to take a long shower to wash your long day off. You slipped your fingers in your heat. To take matters into your own hands.

You tried your best to think of a hot celebrity or literally anyone else but him. But your mind kept coming back to Ransom. How his huge wrist would look wrapped around your throat. How you could mess up his hair as he ate you out.

Ultimately you became too frustrated with yourself, thinking of someone else, your boyfriends friend at that, in such a an inappropriate way. This wasn’t like you.

You gave up. Knowing you wouldn’t find release. Not with the heavy guilt lingering in the back of your mind.

You couldn’t sleep. You kept tossing and turning. But then you’d had enough. You put on a robe and headed towards Ransoms room. You knocked on it twice before he opened the door.

He stood in just his boxer briefs in front of you. And you had to do everything in your power to keep your eyes on his face and not let them fall down. To feast on his broad chest, the dark hair splattered on it, his washboard abs and that damn happy trail.

“This better be good.” He growled. obviously too upset that you disturbed his sleep.

“I...” you trailed off letting your eyes wander to his chest and the trail of dark brown hair leading to his black, tight, boxers “just couldn’t sleep.” You continued trying your best to focus.

“Come on in then.” Just like that. That fucking smirk was back on his face.

You took a deep breathe walking into his room. Wondering what the fuck you were even doing here. “How have you been?” You tried to make small talk.

Turning around to look at him. In a split second, before you could even comprehend what was happening he crashed his lips on yours, stealing your breathe. You sighed moaning into the kiss as his tongue invaded your mouth. It was messy and sloppy and everything you’d ever want from a kiss.

You both pulled away when the need to breathe took over your need for each other.

You panted running your hands up and down his chest to feel him.

“Why are you really here?” He asked pulling your chin up to make you look at him. When you wouldn’t answer he snaked a hand into your shorts. Letting out a satisfied hum with just how wet you were.

You whimpered as his warm fingertips grazed your nether folds. Teasing you so cruelly. Not really giving you what you so desperately wanted. “You know why I’m here.” You purred.

“Not good enough. I’m gonna need you to fucking say it.” He spit pushing a finger inside you.

Your breath hitched as he added another one, staring at you intently as he pumped them in and out of you. “No!” You cried. Trying to pry his hand out of your sleep shorts. “This is wrong. No!”

“Stop it!” He chided pinching your clit as you winced. “You can act innocent all you want. But I know just how much of a slut you are. Look at this.” He captured your cries and whimpers in a kiss as he curled his fingers inside you “Look how fucking wet you are for me.” He said before kissing you again.

“No. That’s not true.” You whined shaking your head “I was fine before I met you!” You were good. He was the one that awoke something dark and primal inside you. This was all his fault.

He chuckled at your foolishness. He wondered if you really believed that. Not that it mattered to him. He added a third finger to stretch your tight heat, get you ready for him. But he couldn’t wait anymore. Not with just how painfully hard he was.

He pulled his fingers from your shorts and pushed you down on your knees. With little to no resistance, you kneeled in front of him.

He took his hard cock out of his uncomfortable briefs, smudging his precum on your lips. “You know what to do. Be a good slut.” He instructed pulling on your messy ponytail as you took his head in your mouth. Sucking on it thoroughly before taking all of him. He groaned knowing you would make him cum in just a few seconds with that hot mouth of yours. “I knew you’d make for a good cocksucker” He pushed you further down and laughed as you gagged around him.

He pulled you off of him, tugging on your hair. He would cum just at the sight of you. Your eyes glossy, cheeks wet with tears, saliva and cum smeared all over your face. He took your hair tie off and smirked at your messy state. He preferred you like that. Ruined because of him. And he hasn’t even started yet.

He urged you to stand by pulling on your forearm. He pushed you against the edge of his bed. “Take off your clothes. On your hands and knees.” He ordered. Impatiently getting rid of his briefs.

You hesitated for a moment but then cowered under his harsh stern gaze, that let you know he had no room for disobedience. With shaky hands you pulled your tank top up and tossed it aside. Repeating the same with your shorts. You gulped as he unabashedly ogled you.

Turning around you climbed on the bed. Crawling till you butt at the edge. You had never done anything in this position before. Bryce preferred letting you do all the work. To give up control, to someone like Ransom. Who made you feel scared more than aroused. Was unnerving to say the least.

You waited, your nipples hardened and your skin covered in goose bumps because of the cold and the anticipation. You expected him to sink in you. He was a lot bigger than anyone else you had ever taken. You had no idea if you could even fit him. You choked trying to fuck him with your mouth.

But then you felt his tongue prod your pluckered hole. You gasped jerking away from his touch but his firm grip on your hips kept you still.

“Anyone ever fucked you here before?” He asked pushing a finger and watching in awe as your asshole swallowed it. It was so tight, he could barely fit one finger in it. He couldn’t imagine how amazing he would feel wrapped up around it. He frowned at your lack of response. That kind of shit doesn’t fly with him.

He groped your plump ass cheek before raising his hand and slapping it harshly. “I asked you a question. I expect an answer.” He stated entranced by the redness of your skin, spanking the same cheek again. So he could leave a few bruises. Something for you to remember him by.

Not that there was any need, this certainly won’t be the last time, he had plans for your ass for the next time. Besides there was no way he could not have you now. Not after feeling your tight cunt around his fingers, which would only be tighter around his cock.

You gasped as you felt the sting of his slap, you looked back at him over your shoulder, wincing again as he delivered another slap. “Did you just...smack my ass?” You asked incredulously. You knew it was a kink for some people but you never thought you’d be taking part in it. Let alone like it way more than you should.

“Shh... be good for me.” He removed his forefinger and replaced it with his thumb. “Answer my question.” He urged.

You swallowed not really ready for any more spanks to your ass and how strangely good they make you feel. “No.” You replied. “No one’s ever fucked my ass.” You added for good measure, rolling your eyes.

“Good.” He hummed.

“Oh my!” You yelped as you felt his tongue nudge your cunt. Pressing inside he slowly fucked you with it. Your hands started shaking, you weren’t sure if you could hold on, his warm velvety tongue felt so good against your walls. Your vision became blurry as tears gathered in your eyes. Dropping on his pristine white sheets. You damn near lost it when he wrapped his mouth around your clit. Slightly pulling on it before harshly sucking on it. You sobbed so overwhelmed with pleasure. “Ransom!” You cried.

“What do you want sweetheart?” He cooed. His voice so dubiously sweet and caring.

“Just fuck me please.” You begged feeling as if your world was about to end, as if you were about to black out then and there as he suck on your bundle of nerves again, pushing his fingers in your cunt.

“What? I thought this was wrong?” He said with faux shock. “Why would you want someone who’s not your boyfriend to fuck you? You’re not making any sense honey.” He spit.

You pushed your head into the mattress, feeling him smirk against your pussy as he ate you out. You had never felt this good before. You had no idea how to handle it or what to do with it. You wondered just what was it about Ransom that made you putty in his hands.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.” You shook your head against the soft bedding. “Please fuck me.” You pleaded at the end of your rope.

He stood up straight. Groping your ass, which was perched up to him, presented so perfecty with your back arched. “Well since you asked so nicely.” He groaned loudly sinking in your tight, wet heat. “How the fuck are you so tight?” He wondered bottoming out. “So damn wet.” He muttered rolling his hips, rubbing his balls against your clit.

“I...” You spoke as if to answer him but couldn’t finish your thought, his skin rubbing against your oversensitive clit in the best way. You whimpered as he pulled his cock, leaving just his tip inside you, making you feel so empty so suddenly. You cried as you he harshly pushed back into you. You felt his large palm push you further into the mattress. His big, hard cock fucking you hard.

He kept up a steady fast pace. Eliciting loud moans and mewls from you. “Does he fuck you this hard?” He asked fastening his pace.

You tried to shake your head, but you couldn’t because of his firm hold on your head. “No he doesn’t.” You were pretty sure that after tonight you’d be ruined for any other man.

He grunted his hips stuttering as he felt your walls quiver around his length. You were close and so was he. “That’s it. Cum on my cock.” He moaned as he felt you clench around him, milking his cock for all he’s got. He gave you a few harsh thrusts before he spilled deep inside you.

You felt everything else around you slip into an abyss. You had never had an orgasm so mind boggling. One that left you so delirious. You moaned hugging the comforted close to you as you felt him spill his warm spend inside you. Making your sensitive walls tingly. You clenched around his softening shaft to keep him inside you. So tired but already ready for another fuck.

He groaned as he felt you clench around him, he smacked your other cheek before pulling out of you. He spread your ass cheeks to see his creamy cum spill out of your swollen cunt. He pushed it back inside and chuckled as you mewled.

He hummed stopping his ministrations to toss your clothes back to you. “Get dressed.” He instructed before going around the bed lay back on his side. He felt you sit up beside him. He looked at you staring at him expectedly. “What did you think we were gonna cuddle?” He scoffed “Do you want him to find out?” He wanted to know.

You shook your head no. Which made...sad? No not sad. Why would it. He doesn’t give a shit who you date or fuck. Not as long as he gets what he wants from you. “Then leave before he finds out you’re gone. I don’t do the girlfriend thing.” He said shutting his eyes so he wouldn’t see your nude body or be tempted to take you again.

You hummed putting your tank and shorts on. “...bye then.” You said awkwardly and turned around to leave. You gasped when you felt him wrap a hand around your waist pulling you back to sit on the bed.

“Don’t think we’re done yet.” You shivered as he whispered in your ear. His body warm against your back. “You better be back here tomorrow. Or else.” He let go of you letting the threat linger in the air as you nodded and got up on shaky feet.

Yeah. He was far from done with you.

Tags will be in the reblogs! If you want in on the taglist click the link in the bio or shoot me an ask/dm.

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

OwO I swear I didn't know back then that Chris' character in fierce people is also called Bryce. Who's somehow worse than Ransom and that's really something else.

Please note that my work is NOT to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

#shamelesshoesforchris #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x ofc #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x reader #steve rogers x reader

800 notes · View notes

creativeashproductions · 3 years

Text

Healed by the Music // Luke Patterson

Summary: After the fallout of reckless behaviour and forced to return back home the reader had rediscovered her love for music. Close with her family once more her band Graveyard Petals receives an offer that could turn around the band’s tarnished reputation. The only issue is not wanting to hurt those close by leaving.

Warnings: Swearing, talk of death, angst, and fluff

Words: 3.3k

A/N: The second and final part to a lovely little series I had grown to love, the first part is Drowning From the Past. I came up with the band name so if you want to use it send an ask and we talk about it. This is set after the first season and Ray can now see them after the whole Golden glow thing.

Part One - Drowning in the Past

Masterlist

In the months you retreated back to Los Feliz the band had grown exponentially bringing in more revenue with merch. The social media followers grew as well with the hope of a new photo posted of you and the band. The most recent teased new music coming.

Speaking of music, it seemed to pour out of your body into two notebooks unknown to both your sister and her band—the band of ghosts that become massive fans of Graveyard Petals when Julie played full-length debut album Dahlia. Luke had even collaborated on a song for your band; his name the first of writing credits.

Now, seven months after the shameful return the band had gotten the offer of a lifetime to open for 5 Seconds of Summer on a world tour. The issue came with talking with Julie, and the guys gave you had shown your father you had healed.

"Hey, what's been up with you lately?" Julie asked, seating herself in the swing right beside you. Her hair pulled away from her youthful face.

Whenever you looked at Julie, you saw Mom with the gorgeous hair and gleeful smile that brightened a room. Even on your mom's death bed, the room flared with that same smile in every picture in albums and on the walls. Sometimes you swore the piano in the studio bath in the warm light brought by the one person that taught you and Julie to play.

"I've been thinking." You simply spoke eyes focused on the park that had been a massive part of your life.

Every year Rose and Ray Molina had brought their three children to the very park the two had met years before. Rose would bring flowers to a specific bench, and every time you asked why she had the same answer.

Little Y/N was a precocious child inquisitive of the world around her held at an arms life by her parents. Skilled at singing and natural affinity for music it worried Rose, in her eldest child she recognized something. The intense passion and talent that a particular guitarist had once displayed on a stage that would have changed everything.

"It a place of absolute joy and acceptance. Four legends came together in front of that very bench."

Rose would never know about the place had Bobby not subconsciously led her there for the first time mere hours after the devastating loss. He had collapsed to his knees, pleading for his best friends, his brothers to return. In broken sobs, he had told Rose that this park, this bench was the first place Sunset Curve played. Band fresh and still unnamed they had gotten confident enough to set up near the bench to start building a following.

Now it was eight years after the first visit with Bobby who started going by Trevor a year after the loss. The fresh-faced boy that had flirted with Rose had changed, and at that time, Rose wasn't sure it was a good or bad thing.

"It was the guys Mom left the flowers for." Julie started following your eyesight to the bench that had a fresh bouquet. A single dahlia in the middle of the flowers for your mother.

"Yeah." You softly spoke, turning to focus on the girl that had healed through music. Seeing how grownup Julie had become hurt your heart. Julie wasn't a child anymore, and you wished she never went through what you did for months.

The two Molina girls sat in comfortable silence with minds thinking the most opposite things possible.

"5 Seconds of Summer is going on tour. We should try and score some tickets when they come to LA." Julie spoke, raising one leg to rest her arm on it. The high waisted light washed jeans with paintings on them.

Your heart clenched at her excitement for a band you both adored for years.

"I know. 5SOS gave Lucy an offer for Graveyard Petals to open for them worldwide. The others are down to join, but if I'm not ready, we won't." You avoided the brown eyes burning your cheek for a second.

Julie's warm hand clasped yours in hers to jog to your car you had bought with your first paycheque. Unable to figure out her state on the possible tour, you quietly drove back home with no sound other than breathing.

"Hey!" Luke beamed as his two favourite girls, came wandering into the studio with pensive expressions and stooped shoulders.

Alex picked up on their moods almost instantly, "Are you okay?"

Your mouth opened before the loud yell of Flynn cut off your opportunity to respond and a slap smack to the back of your head. The sharp cry of pain stumbled from your chapped lips and Flynn's frustration rolling off her form.

"Flynn!" You sharply called rubbing the stinging spot with a glare outmatched by Flynn's fire. The look unlike you had ever seen on the girl with a sharp sense of fashion and unapologetic personality.

"You got asked by 5 Seconds of Summer to tour the world as an opening act!" Flynn elaborated at your confused expression, "Jules texted me. You need to do this! The amount of questions of if GP will return is outrageous! In the last two days, the band's Instagram got five thousand new followers."

The ghostly trio stayed silent as Flynn reprimanded her best friend's older sister with crazy talent. Flynn was your self appointed biggest fan with buying the first album at the store to demanding to wear newly designed merch before the drop.

"I'm enjoying being at home. I'm on good terms with Julie and Carlos, Dad doesn't look like he's gonna drop dead in disappointment when he sees me." You shrugged focusing on the discoloured mark on the ground.

"It's okay to be scared." Alex supplied smiling as Flynn nodded her thanks as the tall drummer stepped in.

After escaping the Hollywood Ghost Club (HGC), a handful of people gained the ability to see them, including Flynn. It was rather refreshing for the girl to finally interact with the guys with Julie being the middle man.

"I'm not-"You cut yourself off at the disbelief on Julie's face with her arms crossed just as your mother had done, "I nearly lost myself in the bottom of a bottle. I fucked up my relationships and tarnished both mine and the band's reputation."

Luke's warm hand came down on your shoulder in the act of support, the touch a new factor to the ghost. Your hand came to rest on his with a smile of gratitude cast to the dead boy.

"You have healthy coping mechanisms to fall back on. You'll have us to visit with the poofing ability. If you stumble, we will be here for you." Reggie informed you with his toothy grin and kind eyes.

The last piece of the puzzle clicked into place, feeling the wound close up, leaving a scar that had blistered and reopened since last year. The cheers enveloped you like their arms as you texted Lucy and the band your decision.

Dublin, Ireland 2021

"Hello, Dublin!" Your voice amplified in the large stadium of fans cheering for your band—the thud of Iris on her drum kit.

James idly stroking the strings on his dark green teal guitar your band had pitched in as a gift to him. On the opposite side of the stage was Sawyer with their custom-made gorgeous marble green and white colour.

"I hope you are enjoying yourself so far! It is our last song before the real act comes out!" You exclaimed to the boisterous crowd.

Just barely in the wing of the stage waited the band that had quickly become older brothers to you. A band that had given you a chance after the madness of your downward spiral.

"This song came out in 2018 and quickly became one of my favourites. It wouldn't be right to sing it without some friends." You continued as the guys walked onto the stage, "Without further adieu, this is Lie to Me by 5 Seconds of Summer!"

Luke Hemmings along with Calum, Ashton, and Michael ran to join your band as Iris started a sick beat. Calum and Michael already joining Sawyer and James in absolute perfect sync leaving Ashton to rock out by Iris. Hemmings, to not confuse him with Luke Patterson, came to stand next to you with a guitar.

[Verse 1: Hemmings]

I saw you looking brand new overnight

And I caught you looking too, but you didn't look twice

You look happy, oh, mmm

You look happy, oh

Hemmings angled his body to face you but not cut off the fans behind him, creating the vivid story you had done each rehearsal. The blue clashing your own eye colour holding your personalized sparkly emerald green mic.

[Pre Chorus: Hemmings & Calum]

Flashing back to New York City

Change your flight so you stay with me

Remember thinking that I got this right

Only adding backing vocals as Hemmings retreated to jam out with Calum leaving you to jump around the stage. Landing next to Sawyer they beamed with the loud stadium heard even through the in-ear monitors.

[Chorus: Hemmings & Calum]

And now I wish we never met

'Cause you're too hard to forget

While I'm cleaning up your mess

I know he's taking off your dress

And I know that you don't, but if I ask you if you love me

I hope you lie, lie, lie, lie, lie to me

Raising the mic to your lips, you came into your cue returning to the middle of the stage with Hemmings.

"Give it up for Y/N!" Ashton yelled into Iris' personal microphone.

[Verse 2: You]

It's 3 AM and the moonlight's testing me (Ah)

I know that you've been holding on to someone else

And now I can't sleep (Ah)

I ain't happy, oh

I ain't too happy, oh

[Pre Chorus: You]

Flashing back to New York City

I was done, but you undid me

Classic me to run when it feels right

The stage was charged with the chemistry the two lead singers of their respective bands all sharing grins. The cheers growing as Hemmings came closer to share the green microphone, the tech guys skillfully turning Hemmings off; no feedback sounding.

[Chorus: Hemmings & You]

Now I wish we never met

'Cause you're too hard to forget

While he's taking off my dress

I know she's laying on your chest

I know that you don't, but if I ask you if you love me

I hope you lie, lie, lie, lie, lie to me

Singing, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie

Li-li-lie, lie, lie, lie, lie

Lie, lie, lie, lie, lie

Li-li-lie, lie, lie, lie, lie (Yeah yeah)

I know that you don't, but if I ask you if you love me

I hope you lie, lie, lie, lie, lie to me

The Australian singer stepped closer to hug you quickly before finding his way to your bandmates too. The crowd all having their phones out in which the hugs would be made into edits, and the shipping would intensify.

"Dublin! You have been incredible to play for. Enjoy the rest of the concert and rock out because I will be doing so backstage." Your voice echoed over the fans with a beaming grin feeling comfortable on stage again.

"This is Easier!" Hemmings shouted as the rest of his band commenced their part of the concert just as they had the last few months.

Watching the guys perform with your own band with you was incredibly bittersweet after touring worldwide for months. The media had eaten up the sudden reappearance of the band with positive publicity increasing the popularity.

"I love this song," Sawyer spoke with a twinkle in their eyes tapping their foot to the beat. James was just barely moving his head to beat while Iris was jumping around uncaring of the people around.

"You love it because we got to collaborate on the song!" James exclaimed, tapping his hip on her thigh. Iris' 5'11 form towered over James' 5'7 height but that never caused issues with them.

James's black hair gleamed blue in the strobe lights tinting his pale complexion as well. Sawyer's hair dyed bright red pairing well with their tawny skin colour with their mocha brown irises. Iris had changed over the break abandoning her past style for a more laidback skater style.

"I'm gonna head to the bus. Grab a shower and change." You informed the band as you started retreating to where the bus was parked.

"See you soon!" Sawyer yelled with their attention halfway back on the band of guys that had given you all a second chance.

Walking down the hall with employees milling around, you barely acknowledged them other than a smile. The performing had taken a lot out of you after a fitful sleep. Carl, your band's security detail and current bouncer to the backdoor, nodded at you.

Carl's colleague would be stationed at the bus as per usual with your routine of catching one song and then leaving. Bea's hardened gaze relentless on scouring the area with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Hey, Bea." You spoke earning a grunt in response from the jaded security detail hired after adjusting back to civilian life.

You didn't have the entire story other than Bea had been in the military, but due to an injury had been medically discharged. Your manager Lucy had been the one to hire her as per the new policy of having two people of different genders on detail.

The bus was quiet as you entered flinching at the sight of your father sitting on the couch with Julie and Carlos beside him. Your mouth gaped at seeing your family after months of only FaceTime and calls.

"Oh my gosh!" You yelled lunging to hug your siblings with wide eyes matching.

Carlos had definitely grown at least two inches since you last saw him, and Julie's hair was pulled back in an intricate style. Her outfit screaming Flynn's advice but her ring was on show that matched your own.

"Surprise!" Ray exclaimed to his eldest child with pride written clear on his face, "I missed you, Mija."

"So, did I!" The cheerful voice of Luke interjected as the three boys of Julie and the Phantoms made their appearance.

Standing further back in a band shirt with Graveyard Petals was Alex's boyfriend Willie with a shy expression. He still felt incredibly guilty of delivering the boys straight into Caleb's hand and often voiced his feelings of not feeling he deserved to be friends.

"Hey, Willie. I like your shirt!" You told the tall skater who sent a shy smile.

"Still weird," Ray muttered having walked in on Reggie towel drying his hair the month before you left for tour.

It had been a very confusing and emotional time for Ray and Carlos to adapt to the new information. After Julie saved the boys and that weird golden glow happened, they had been able to make themselves visible; just no poofing in the vicinity of Ray after he nearly fainted that one time. The details hadn't been worked out yet, but Caleb was out of the picture.

"Did you catch the concert?" You questioned the group tugging on the damp t-shirt you had worn on stage. The fabric was drying after being drenched in the sweat after spending an hour under hot lights and continuous movement on stage.

"We stayed for the one last night. We stayed for your set tonight before we got Bea-"

"-she's terrified by the way," Alex interjected with a grimace on his face at the stoic young woman. The glare at focusing on her scars had truly scared the anxious drummer.

"-to let us on the bus. We wanted to surprise you and congratulate your success." Luke informed the group, "You're insanely talented by the way."

His left hand coming to intertwine with your right hand just as it had before you departed for the world tour. You had grown incredibly close to the guitarist firstly as best friends before developing into a relationship.

"We did explore Dublin for the morning. I'll forever be in Lucy's debt for sending the tickets for us." Ray happily sighed, thinking of the lovely woman that had helped Ray guide his daughter back to herself.

"I'll just hit the shower quick." You swiftly jogged to the back of the tour bus where the shower was situated near the five came rooms. The entire band each had one room and a spare for the driver.

Los Angeles, 2021

Your hair pulled away from your face you sat beside a willow tree in contemplative silence with only your guitar and notebook. You knew that in a few seconds Luke would appear for another writing session.

"I love you." Luke breathlessly spoke as he ran up to you with a great big smile.

The awe at his words blinding your thoughts from the hope you had been feeling for the last week. Luke's hazel eyes glittering in the sun and the smile bubbled onto his face.

"I love you too." The words slipped quickly off the tip of your tongue as the guitarist tugged your form into his body. Supple lips quivering on the skin of warm neck all Luke felt was gratitude.

Luke leant back to brush his calloused fingers on your cheek, "Julie got a call. Someone little birdie sent in a demo to a label."

"I wonder who that happened to be." Your smirk revealing just precisely who had sneakily grabbed the freshly recorded demo.

Lucy had always had an interest in Julie's talent in music but tabled in during the period that Rose died. The grief stealing Julie's voice and leaving behind stage fright hadn't been something Lucy would chance. The manager had always hoped Julie's voice would return.

"You gave Lucy the demo, and she passed in on to the Red Bedroom Records!" Luke was quick to tug you into his arms with a huge grin, "Julie and the Phantoms are getting signed! The owner is personally flying over on Monday to go over the contract and sign it!"

Your words muffled by his chest, "Lucy informed me about that, and she offered to manage you as well."

"Lucy is the best. She gonna mentor and give Flynn an internship to still work with the band. Thank you so much, baby." Luke whispered against the warm skin of your forehead.

"I just decided to speed up the process. Can I tell you something?" At Luke's nod, you continued, "I'm thinking in a few years to open a label of my own. I was hoping you guys and Julie would be interested in doing that with me?"

"I am so down to do that. We're gonna hire an investigator to make sure what Trevor did isn't able to happen at our label." Luke was already passionately thinking of what the hypothetical future label.

"That's perfect!" You beamed, "We could give a workshop to aid songwriting too! I thought that we could name it A Rosie Sunset. My dad called my mom Rosie most of my life and Sunset for your first band."

"I didn't think I could love you more than I did a minute ago. You proved me wrong." Luke breathless laughed before humming when your lips made contact with your own.

The warmth that had been missing the year after you mom passed away had returned, and sometimes you swore the sun shone down on you. You had no doubts it was your mom's way in heaven to hug her children. You and Julie had come to the conclusion that your mom had sent the boys into your lives.

Rose Molina, even in death, did her best to make her children happy. The three remaining members of Sunset Curve the absolute best part of her two daughters lives.

Tag List (PLEASE SEND AN INBOX TO BE ADDED! I CANNOT GUARANTEE YOU WILL BE ON THE LIST VIA POST COMMENTS!)

@safehavenmuse @siennanoelle01 @whiterose291 @mell-bell @blackhood5sos @ficrecsideblog @ifilwtmfc @deadpoolgirl23 @crappy-unicorn @sunsetcurve-h @elioelioeli0 @lovesanimals @popcrone818 @lolychu @deepsleepnat @tenaciousperfectionunknown @aunicornmademedoit @just-a-writer-here @simp4reggie @merceret @faithiebrock01 @overlyhypedup @differentsoulrascalsalad @aesthetic-lyss @versaceapa @carleywhittaker @lostgirl219 @itsalexx21 @elllaoo4 @merxxleighann @mediocremunge @fantomlovesjuke4ever @dpaccione @oswin05 @kaylinfayezink @aberette13 @faithie-brock-gillespie01 @eharvey0218 @overlyhypedup @benstormy @auriandthepussicats @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @whothefuckstolemykeds @siriuswvrld @princessvader15 @xoxbloodreinaxox @heimdoodle @joshy-obx @lovesanimals @oopsiedoopsie23 @am3l1a-24 @flying-solo-without-you @jaskiers-sweetkiss @lostrandomfangirln @must-be-a-weasley-92 @jatp-holland @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @dxlanhxlland @dasexydevitt13 @ifilwtmfc @arianagrandes-things @kinda-really-lost @marinettepotterandplagg @ssprayberrythings @morgandamrose @thedarkqueenofavalon @zukoshonourr @crybabyddl @spooky-season-bitch @kcd15 @morganayennefertyrell @magnet-girl @all-in-fangirl @kinda-really-lost @tenaciousperfectionunknown @badwolf00593 @blowakissbabe @talksoprettyjjx @thesweetestsinner @kaitieskidmore1 @writerinlearning @aiofheavenandhell @sageellsworth05 @link-102 @thesweetestsinner

#luke patterson imagines #luke patterson x reader #julie and the phantoms imagines #luke patterson x y/n #julie and the phantoms #luke patterson #jatp luke #jatp fanfic #charlie gillespie imagines #caitsy and ash productions

122 notes · View notes

snelbz · 4 years

Text

What Happens In Vegas... {3}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Feyre x Rhysand, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Summary: For Feyre’s twenty-first birthday, her best friend took her to Las Vegas for a weekend of fun she could never forget. She’s going home with a lot more than memories.

@snelbz / @tacmc collab

What Happens In Vegas Masterlist

Fanfiction Masterlist

My Ask Box

I felt like I had just fallen asleep when someone began hammering on my door.

“Feyre? Are you in there?” The knob shook and it sounded like whoever it was was trying to get in. I’d locked it after the incident with Rhys, just in case he wanted to come back and finish the fight we’d started.

I blinked and sat up, looking around the room, bleary eyed. The last time I had looked at the clock, it was 4:17. It had taken me hours to fall asleep, with the loud music below and the knowledge that Rhys was probably giving Belly Chain the night I should have gotten in Vegas.

Another knock had me climbing across the huge bed and hurrying for the door, but as I reached it, I realized I wore nothing but Rhysand’s shirt he’d left in Vegas. Whatever he’d washed it with, it didn’t smell of puke. The man had some serious laundry skills. Aside from my ruined dress and a couple of other tops, it was all I had with me, so it would have to do.

I reached the door and asked, “Who is it?”

“Amarantha. I’m Rhysand’s PA.”

I cracked open the door and peered out. The elegant redhead from last night stared back at me, unimpressed. From being made to wait or the sight of my bed hair, I didn’t know. Did everyone in this house look like they’d just slunk off the cover of a magazine? Her eyes turned into slits at the sight of Rhys’ shirt.

“His representatives are here to meet with you. You might want to get your ass into gear.” The woman spun on her heel and strode off down the hallway, heels clacking furiously against the terra-cotta tiled floor.

I hesitated, watching her disappear around the corner before closing the door behind me. I slumped back against it with a groan before stumbling into the adjoining bathroom. After a look in the mirror, and a cringe, I decided that a shower was definitely necessary.

The shower was amazing.

The cost of the bathroom alone was probably equivalent to everything I owned. I quickly washed my hair and scrubbed my skin, and I was letting myself out. After brushing through my hair and putting on the same clothes I felt like I had been wearing for years at this point, I was wandering into the hallway.

Amarantha hadn’t told me where they were waiting for me, and in a house this big, I wasn’t excited about looking for the right room. When I walked down the staircase, though, there was a group of men in suits, and I figured that I wouldn’t have to look too long.

“Feyre?”

I nodded, my reality settling in around me. I was about to get divorced. Divorced at twenty-one. What a fucking dream.

“Follow me.”

Me. Although there were four of them in the group, he was clearly in charge. He was probably a few years younger than my dad, clearly full of himself, and obviously rich as hell. His suit was pristine, designer, his hair luscious and just trimmed and styled.

“My name is Darren Hybern,” he said. “The band’s manager.”

I noticed he didn’t offer to shake my hand. “Feyre. Sorry I’m late.”

He smiled and his teeth were too white, too perfect. “It’s fine, not a problem at all.” His tone suggested differently.

He led us to a room by the front door, an office of sorts. There was a large table, the likes of which I’d only seen in boardrooms and interview scenes on tv and in movies. He gestured to the men, who’d sat down on one side of the table, a show of power in their impressive, immaculate suits. “Gentlemen, this is Ms. Archeron,” Hybern announced. “Jeffrey Baker, Bill Preston, and Ted Clark are Rhysand’s legal representatives. Why don’t you sit here, Feyre?”

He spoke slowly, as if I were a feeble-minded child. He pulled a chair out from the table for me directly opposite the team of legal eagles, then walked around to sit on their side. Wow, that sure told me. The lines had been drawn.

I rubbed my sweaty palms on the sides of my jeans and sat up straight, doing my best not to wilt beneath their hostile gazes. I could definitely do this. How hard could it be to get a divorce, after all?

“Ms. Archeron,” the one Hybern had identified as Ted started. He pushed a black leather folder full of papers toward me. “Mr. Lunasa asked us to draw up annulment papers. They’ll cover all issues, including details of your settlement from Mr. Lunasa.”

The size of the stack of papers before me was daunting. These people worked fast. “My settlement?”

“Yes,” Ted said. “Rest assured, Mr. Lunasa has been very generous.”

I shook my head in confusion. “I’m sorry. Wha—.”

“We’ll deal with that last,” Ted rushed on. “You’ll notice here that the document covers all conditions to be met by yourself. The main issues include your not speaking to any member of the press with regard to this matter. This is non-negotiable, I’m afraid. This condition remains in force until your death. Do you fully understand the requirement, Ms. Archeron? Under no circumstances may you talk to any member of the press regarding Mr. Lunasa in any way while you’re alive.”

“So I can talk to them after I die?” I asked with a weak little laugh. Ted was getting on my nerves. I guess I hadn’t gotten enough sleep after all.”

Ted bared his teeth. They weren’t nearly as impressive as Hybern’s. “This is a very serious matter, Ms. Archeron.”

“Feyre,” I said. “My name is Feyre, and I do realize the seriousness of this issue, Ted. I apologize for being flippant. But if we could get back to the part about the settlement? I’m a little confused.”

“Very well.” Ted looked down his nose at me and tapped a thick, gold pen on the paperwork in front of me. “As I said, Mr. Lunasa has been very generous.”

“No,” I said, not looking at the papers, “you don’t understand.”

Ted cleared his throat and looked down at me over the top of his glasses. “It would be unwise of you to try and press for more given the circumstances, Ms. Archeron. A six-hour marriage in Las Vegas entered into while you were both heavily under the influence of alcohol? Textbook grounds for annulment.”

Ted’s cronies tittered and I felt my face fire up. My need to accidentally kick the prick under the table grew and grew.

“My client will not be making another offer.”

“I don’t want him to make another offer,” I said, my voice rising.

“The annulment will go ahead, Ms. Archeron,” said Ted. “There is no question of that. There will be no reconciliation.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

Ted sighed. “We need to finalize this today, Ms. Archeron.”

“I’m not trying to hold anything up, Ted.”

The other two lawyers watched me with distaste, backing up Ted with sleazy, knowing smiles. Nothing pissed me off faster than a bunch of people trying to intimidate someone.

Hybern gave me a big-toothed, faux-fatherly grin. “I’m sure Feyre can see how kind Rhys is being. There aren’t going to be any delays here, are there?”

These people, they blew my mind. Speaking of which, I had to wonder where my darling husband was. Too busy banging bikini models to turn up to his own divorce, the poor guy. I ran my fingers through my wet hair, trying to figure out the right thing to say. Trying to get my anger managed. “Wait—.”

“We all just want what’s best for you given the unfortunate situation,” Hybern continued, obviously lying through his big, bright teeth.

“Great,” I said, fingers fidgeting beneath the table. “That’s … that’s really great of you.”

“Please, Ms. Archeron.” Ted tapped his pen imperiously alongside a figure on the paperwork and I dutifully looked, though I didn’t want to.

There were lots of zeros. I mean, really a lot. It was insane. In two lifetimes I couldn’t earn that kind of money. Rhys must have wanted me gone something fierce. My stomach rumbled nervously but my puking days were over. The whole scene felt horrific, like something out of a bad movie or soap opera. The girl from the wrong side of the tracks hijacks the hot, rich guy and tricks him into marriage. Now all that was left was for him to use his people to chase me off into the sunset.

Well, he won.

“This was all just a mistake,” said Hybern. “I’m sure Feyre is every bit as keen to put it behind her as Rhys is. And with this generous financial settlement, she can move forward to a bright future.”

“You’ll also never attempt to make contact with Mr. Lunasa ever again, in any manner. Any attempt on your part to do so will see you in breach of contract.” Ted withdrew his pen, sitting back in his seat with a false smile and his hands crossed over his belly. “Is that clear?”

“No,” I said, scrubbing my face with my hands.

They actually thought I’d fall over myself to get that money. Money I’d done nothing to earn, no matter how tempting accepting it was. Of course, they also thought I’d sell my story to the press and harass Rhys every spare moment I got for the rest of my life. They thought I was cheap, trashy scum. “I think I can honestly say that nothing about this is clear.”

“Feyre, please.” Hybern gave me a disappointed look. “Let’s be reasonable.”

“I’ll tell you what…” I stood and retrieved the ring from my jeans pocket, tossing it onto the sea of paperwork. “You give this back to Rhys and tell him I don’t want any of it. None of this.” I gestured at them, the table, the papers, and the entire damn house. The lawyers looked nervously among themselves as if they’d need more paperwork before they could allow me to go waving my arms about in such a disorderly fashion.

“Feyre…”

“I don’t want to sell his story, or stalk him, or whatever else you have buried in subclause 98.2. I don’t want his money.”

Hybern coughed out a laugh. Fuck him. The phony bastard could think what he liked.

Ted frowned at my big sparkly ring lying innocently among the mess. “Mr. Lunasa didn’t mention a ring.”

“No? Well. Why don’t you tell Mr. Lunasa he can shove it wherever he feels it might best fit, Ted.”

“Ms. Archeron!” Ted stood, his puffy face outraged. “That is unnecessary.”

“Going to have to disagree with you there, Ted.” I bolted out of the dining room of death and made straight for the front door as fast as my feet could carry me. Immediate escape was the only answer. If I could just get the hell away from them long enough to catch my breath, I could come up with a new plan to deal with this ridiculous situation. I’d be fine.

A brand new black pickup truck pulled up as I tore down the front steps.

The window lowered to show my guide from last night, Cass, sitting in the driver’s seat. He smirked from behind black sunglasses, his hair tied at the back of his head. “Hey there, child bride.”

I threw a vulgar gesture in his direction and jogged down the long, winding driveway toward the front gates. Toward liberty and freedom and my old life, or whatever remained of it. If only I’d never gone to Vegas. If only I’d tried harder to convince Joey that a party at home would be fine, none of this would have happened. Gods, I was such an idiot. Why had I drunk so much?

“Feyre! Hold up.” Cass pulled up alongside me in his truck. “What’s wrong? Where are you going?”

I didn’t answer. I was done with all of them. That and I had the worst feeling I was about to cry, damn it. My eyes felt hot, horrible.

“Stop.” He pulled the brake and climbed out of the truck, running after me. “Hey, I’m sorry.”

I said nothing. I had nothing to say to any of them.

His hand wrapped around my arm gently, but I didn’t care. I swung at him. I’d never hit anyone in my life. Apparently, I wasn’t about to start now. He dodged my flying fist with ease.

“Whoa! Okay.” Cass danced back a step, giving me a wary look over the top of his shades. “You’re mad. I get it.”

Hands on hips, he looked back toward the house. Ted and Hybern stood on the front steps, staring after us. Even from this distance the dynamic duo did not appear happy. Evil bastards.

Cass hissed out a breath. “You’re fucking joking. He sicced that ball sucker Ted onto you?”

I nodded, blinking, trying to get myself under control.

“Did you have anyone with you?” he asked.

“No.”

He cocked his head. “Are you going to cry?”

“No!”

“Fuck. Come on.” He held out his hand to me and I stared at it in disbelief. “Feyre, think. There are photographers and shit waiting out front. Even if you get past them, where are you going to go?”

He was right. I had to go back, get my bag. So stupid of me not to have thought of it. Just as soon as I had myself under control I’d go in and retrieve it, then get the hell out of here. I fanned my face with my hands, took a big breath. All good.

Meanwhile, his hand hovered, waiting. There were a couple of small blisters on it, situated in the join between thumb and finger. Curious.

“Are you the drummer?” I asked with a sniff.

For some reason he cracked up laughing, almost doubling over, clutching at his belly. Maybe he was on drugs or something. Or maybe he was just one more lunatic in this gigantic asylum. Batman would have had a hard time keeping this place in check.

“What is your problem?” I asked, taking a step away from him. Just in case.

His snazzy sunglasses fell off, clattering on the asphalt. He swiped them up and shoved them back on his face.

“Nothing. Nothing at all. Let’s get out of here. I’ve got a house at the beach. We’ll hide out there. Come on, it’ll be fun.”

I hesitated, giving the jerks on the front steps a lethal look. “Why would you help me?”

“Because you’re worth helping.”

“Oh, really? Why would you think that?”

“You wouldn’t like my answer.”

“I haven’t liked a single answer I’ve had all morning, why stop now?”

He smiled. “Fair enough. I’m one of Rhysand’s oldest friends. We’ve gotten drunk and out of control more times than I can remember. He’s had girls angling to snare him for years, even before we had money. He never was the slightest bit interested in marriage. It was never even on his radar before. So the fact that he married you, well, that suggests to me you’re worth helping. Come on, Feyre. Stop worrying.”

Easy for him to say, his life hadn’t been skewered by a rock star.

“I need to get my stuff.”

“And get cornered by them? Worry about it later.” He held his hand out, fingers beckoning for mine. “Let’s get out of here.”

I put my hand in his and we went.

—————————

I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but the beach house we pulled up to wasn’t it. It was right on the water, the house lining the sand. It wasn’t as massive as the mansion we were just at, but it was pretty big. Much bigger than my parents’ house, anyways.

“What do you think?” Cassian asked, putting his car in drive in the driveway.

“It’s….nice,” I answered, at last, unsure of how to judge a house strictly from the outside.

“Nice?” Cassian laughed. “This is my favorite place in the world...and you tell me that it’s nice?”

I laughed, purely because of his exasperated expression. “Well, I have to see the inside first.”

“Fair enough.” He shrugged before helping himself out then walked up to the front door. I stayed close behind, afraid that the paparazzi would be hanging just around the corner.

The inside was much more marvelous than the outside. It was simple but sleek and modern. Plenty of space surrounded me, and between that and the beach just outside the backdoor, I was growing calmer by the second.

As I admired the line of instruments lining the walls, I asked, “How many instruments can you actually play?”

Cassian shrugged. “A few.”

I snorted. “Right.”

“What kind of music do you like?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

I shrugged. “A little bit of everything, mostly country.”

He groaned. “That’s, like, worst case music to like being married to a rock star. Do you even like hardcore?”

The smile I gave him as I walked into his living room was pained. “Sorry.”

Cassian’s house was clearly a bachelor pad/den of iniquity. I’d had a vague notion to make lunch to thank him for taking me in, but there wasn’t a single speck of food in the house. Beer filled the fridge and vodka the freezer. Oh, no, there was a bag of oranges used as wedges to go with shots of vodka, apparently. He’d ruled out touching those. Coffee, however, was something they both agreed was essential. After drinking three cups in the space of an hour, I felt a lot more like my old well-planned, caffeinated self.

Cass dialed for pizza and we watched TV late into the night. Mostly he found his joy in mocking my taste in pretty much everything: movies, music, the lot. At least he did it good-naturedly. We couldn’t go outside because a couple of photographers were waiting on the beach. I felt bad about it but he’d just shrugged it off.

This is my everyday life. It’s nothing new to me.

He paused on the country music channel as we were eating our pizza.

“What about this song?” he asked. “You like this?”

Miranda Lambert strode on screen in a cool ’50s frock and I grinned. “Miranda is a badass.”

“I’ve met her.”

I sat up straight. “Really?”

He chuckled. “You’re impressed I’ve met Miranda Lambert but you didn’t even know who I was. Honestly, woman, you are hard on the ego.”

“I saw the gold and platinum records lining the hallway, buddy. I’m thinking you can take it.”

He snorted. “Can’t you at least pretend to worship me?”

I bite into another slice of pizza. “Nope. Sorry.”

With a scoff, Cassian began to surf through the channels. Football, home shopping, Jeopardy!, and me. My face on tv.

“Wait,” I said.

He groaned. “Not a good idea.”

“No, just…” I held up a hand, and that seemed to have do it. He didn’t change the channel anymore, but I was fully aware that he was watching me.

The reporter showed up on the screen, talking about everything and nothing in between. I couldn’t help but try and grasp the concept of what she was saying, although the words really didn’t sink in.

“Rhysand Lunasa’s new wife-.”

“Is that all I’m going to be seen as from now on?” I muttered, not really sure if I said it outloud or not. “Rhysand Lunasa’s new wife?”

Cassian didn’t respond. Or, maybe he did and I just didn’t hear him. The footage of me at the airport streamed across the screen and I frowned. I looked so scared, so off guard, so nervous. And I was, that wasn’t the point, but I figured the first time I would ever be on t.v. would be because of a great accomplishment, not because I was accidentally married to a rockstar.

Cassian rested a hand on my shoulder and I looked at him. “Rhys is the favorite, darlin’. He’s pretty, plays guitar, and writes the songs. Girlies faint when he walks by. Team that with your being a young ’un and you’ve got the news of the week.”

“I’m twenty-one.”

“And he’s twenty-six. It’s enough of a difference if they hype it just right.” Cass sighed. “Face it, child bride. You got married in Vegas by an Elvis impersonator to one of rock ’n’ roll’s favorite sons. It was always bound to cause a shitstorm. Given there’s also been some crap going on with the band lately… What with Tamlin partying like it’s 1999 and Rhys losing his music-writing mojo. Well, you get the picture. But next week, someone else will do something wacky and all the attention will move on.”

I shrugged. “I guess so.”

“I know so. People are constantly fucking up. It’s a glorious thing.” He sat back and kicked his feet up on the coffee table. “Now smile for Uncle Cass, cause like I said, this will all blow over in a week or so. You know you want to.”

I smiled halfheartedly.

“That’s a bullshit smile and I’m ashamed of you. You’re not going to fool anyone with that. Try again.”

I tried harder, smiling till my cheeks hurt.

“Damn. Now you just look like you’re in pain.”

Banging on the front door interrupted our merriment.

Cass raised his brows at me. “Wondered how long he’d take.”

“What?” I trailed him to the front door, lurking behind a divider just in case it was more press.

He opened the door and Rhys charged in, face tight and furious.

“You piece of shit. You better not have touched her. Where is she?”

“The child bride is otherwise occupied.” Cass cocked his head, taking Rhys in with a cool glance. “Why the fuck do you even care?”

“Don’t start with me. Where is she?”

Calmly, Cassian shut the door and turned to face his friend. I hesitated, hanging back around the corner.

Cass crossed his arms over his broad chest. “You left her to face Hybern and three lawyers on her own. You, my friend, are most definitely the piece of shit in this particular scenario.”

“I didn’t know Darren would go at her with all that.”

“You didn’t know because you didn’t want to know,” said Cass . “Lie to everyone else out there, Rhys. Not me. And sure as fuck not to yourself.”

“Back off.”

Cassian sighed. “You need some serious life advice, friend.”

“Who are you, Oprah?”

Coughing out a laugh, Cass slumped against the wall. “Hell, yeah. Soon I’m gonna be giving out cars, so stick around.”

“What did she say?”

“Who, Oprah?”

Rhysand just scowled at him. He didn’t even notice me spying. Sad to say, even a scowling Rhys was a thing of rare beauty. He did things to me. Complicated things. My heart tripped about in my chest. The anger and emotion in his voice couldn’t be concern for me. That made no sense, not after last night and this morning. I had to be projecting, and it sucked that I even wanted him to care. My head made no sense. Getting away from this guy was the safest option all round. “Rhys, she was so upset she took a swing at me.

“Bullshit.”

“I kid you not. She was nearly in tears when I found her,” said Cass.

I banged my forehead in silent agony against the wall. Why the hell did Cassian have to tell him that?

My husband hung his head. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“Seems you didn’t mean for a shitload to happen.” Cass shook his head and tutted. “Did you even mean to marry her, dude? Seriously?”

Rhysand’s face screwed up, his brow doing the wrinkly James Dean thing again. “I don’t know anymore, okay? Fuck. I went to Vegas because I was so sick of all this shit, and I met her. She was different. She seemed different that night. I just… I wanted something outside of all this fucking idiocy for a change.”

Cassian pouted. “Poor Rhysie. Did being a rock god get old?”

“Where is she?”

“I feel your pain, bro. Really, I do. I mean, all you wanted was a girl who wouldn’t kiss your ass for once and now you’re pissed at her for the same damn reason. It’s complicated, right?”

“Fuck you. Leave it alone, Cass. It’s done.” My husband huffed out a breath. “Anyway, she’s the one who wanted the fucking divorce. Why aren’t you giving her the third degree, huh?”

With a dramatic sigh, Cass gestured towards me. “Because she’s really busy hiding around the corner, listening. I can’t disturb her now.”

Rhysand’s body stilled and his blue eyes found me. “Feyre.”

Huh. Busted.

I stepped away from the wall and tried to put on a happy face. It didn’t work. “Hi.”

“She says that so well.” Cass turned to me and winked. “So did you really ask the mighty Rhysand Lunasa for a divorce?”

“She threw up on me when I told her we were married,” my husband reported.

“What?” Cass dissolved into laughter, tears leaking from his eyes. “Are you serious? Fucking hell, that is fantastic. Oh, man, I wish I’d been there.”

I gave Rhys what I hoped to be the meanest look in all of time and space. He stared back, unimpressed.

“It was the floor,” I clarified. “I didn’t throw up on him.”

“That time,” said Rhys.

“Please keep going,” said Cass, laughing harder than ever. “This just gets better and better.”

Rhys didn’t. Thank God.

“Seriously, I fucking love your wife, man. She’s awesome. Can I have her?”

The look I got from Rhys spoke of a much more reluctant affection. With the line between his brows, it was closer to outright irritation. I blew him a kiss. He looked away, hands fisted like he was barely holding himself back from throttling me. The feeling was entirely mutual.

Ah, marital bliss.

“You two are just the best.” A chiming sound came from Cassian’s pocket and he pulled out a cell phone. Whatever he saw on the screen stopped his laughter dead. “You know, you should take her to your house,man.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Rhysand’s mouth pulled wide in a truly pained expression. I didn’t think it was a good idea either. I’d happily go through life without setting foot inside the house of horrors ever again. Maybe if I asked Cassian nicely he’d fetch my stuff for me. Imposing on him further didn’t appeal, but I was running low on options.

“Whoa.” With a grim face, Cass shoved his cell at Rhys.

“Fuck,” Rhys mumbled. He wrapped his hand around the back of his neck and squeezed. The worried glance he gave me from beneath his dark brows set every alarm ringing inside my head. Whatever was on that screen was bad. Really bad.

“What is it?” I asked. “Oh, you, ah… you don’t need to worry about it.” His gaze dropped to the phone again, then he passed it back to Cass. “My place would be cool, actually. We should do that. Fun. Yeah.”

“No.” For Rhysand to be so nice to me it had to be something truly bad. I held out my hand, fingers twitching from impatience or nerves or a bit of both. “Show me.”

Rhysand didn’t budge. “It’s not important.”

“Show me,” I snapped.

Cassian frowned as he looked at Rhysand. Rhys, on the other hand, was staring daggers at his bandmate, his friend.

He handed the phone to me.

My cheeks instantly heated as I glanced down at the picture on Cassian’s phone, the picture that was all over the web.

I was looking at a picture of the tattoo of Rhysand’s name on my ass, a picture that I didn’t even know had been taken.

I tensed, my heart falling into my stomach. It couldn’t be. It didn’t make sense. I had no idea how it had happened, and the thought of a picture of my asscheek ending up all over the internet had me ready to puke.

“Excuse me,” I breathed, shoving the phone into Cassian’s chest. The second he took it, I was hauling ass down the hallway, into the bathroom, where I slammed the door shut behind me.

I locked it and sat on the edge of the Jacuzzi, trying to slow my breathing, trying to be calm. There was nothing I could do. The picture was already out there. This was no death and dismemberment. It was a stupid picture of me in a compromising position showing more skin than I liked. But so what? Big deal. Accept it and move on. Despite the fact that everyone I knew would likely see it. Worse things had happened in the history of the world. I just needed to put it in context and stay calm.

“Feyre?” Rhys tapped lightly on the door. “Are you okay?”

“Yep.” No. Not really.

“Let me in?” I gave the door a pained look. “Please.”

Slowly, I stood and flicked the lock. Rhysand wandered in and shut the door behind him. No slicked back, styled hair today. His dark hair hung down, framing his face on one side. He had three small silver earrings in one ear playing peekaboo behind his hair. I stared at them because meeting his eyes was out of the question. I was not going to cry. Not about this. What the hell was even wrong with my eyes lately? Letting him in had been dumb.

With a heavy frown he stared down at me. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Yeah, it is. I should have looked after you better.”

“No, Rhys.” I swallowed hard. “We were both drunk. God, this is all so horrifically, embarrassingly stupid.”

He just stared at me.

“Sorry.”

“Hey, you’re allowed to be upset. That was a private moment. It shouldn’t be out there. We were in a private room. This should never have happened, but people get offered a lot of money for this sort of thing.”

I nodded, knowing this sort of thing happened to them all the time. He must have thought I was having a meltdown for no reason. “Can I… can I see it again?”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

“Not really.” I chuckled, but there was no humor in the words. They sounded slightly unhinged.

Rhys handed me his phone regardless.

The image I was looking at this time was a different angle, more zoomed out, but there could be no doubting what it was, even on the small screen. There was a lot of skin on account of my being bare from the waist down. My naked butt sat front and center in all its pale glory. The party dress had been pushed up and I stood, bent over a table while a tattoo artist worked hard inking my rear. My panties had been cinched down, barely covering the basics.

At the other end of the frame, our faces were close together and Rhysand was smiling. Huh. So that was what he looked like when he smiled

I remembered it then, the buzz of the needle, and him talking to me, holding my hands. At first, that needle had stung. “You were pretending to bite my fingers. The tattoo artist got mad at us for messing around.”

Rhys tipped his chin. “Yeah. You were supposed to be keeping still.”

I nodded, trying to remember more but coming up empty.

I blinked, trying my damndest to keep my chin from wobbling but I knew I was about to have another round of tears. “Rhys, I- I’d really like to be alone for a few minutes…”

He made a growly noise and suddenly his arms wrapped around me, pulling me in against him. He caught me off guard and I stumbled, my nose bumping into his chest. It hurt. But he smelled good. Clean, male, and good. Familiar. Some part of me remembered being this close to him and it was comforting. Something in my mind said “safe.” But I couldn’t remember how or why.

A hand moved restlessly over my back.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “so fucking sorry.”

The kindness was too much. Stupid tears flowed.

“I’d hardly even shown anyone my ass and now it’s all over the Internet.”

“I know, baby.” He rested his head against the top of mine, holding on tight as I blubbered into his T-shirt. Having someone to hold on to helped. It would be okay. Deep down I knew it would be. But right then I couldn’t see my way clear. Standing there with his arms around me felt right.

I don’t know when we started swaying. Rhys rocked me gently from side to side as if we were dancing to some slow song. The overwhelming temptation to stay like that with my face pressed into his shirt was what made me step back, pull myself together. His hands sat lightly on my hips, the connection not quite broken.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Of course.” The front of his shirt had a damp patch, thanks to me.

“Your shirt’s all wet.”

He shrugged.

I ugly-cried. It was a gift of mine. The mirror confirmed it, demon-red eyes and flushed fluoro-pink cheeks. With an awkward smile I stepped away from him, and his hands fell back to his sides. I splashed my face with water and dried it on a towel while he stood idly by, frowning.

“Let’s go for a drive,” he said.

“Really?” I gave him a dubious look. Rhysand and me alone? Given the marriage situation and our previous sober encounters, it didn’t seem the wisest plan.

“Yeah.” He rubbed his hands together, getting all enthused. “Just you and me. We’ll get out of here for a while.”

“Rhys, like you said out there, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“You want to stay in LA?” he scoffed.

“Look, you’ve been really sweet since you stepped through that door. Well, apart from telling Cass about me puking on you. That was unnecessary. But in the preceding twenty-four hours you dumped me alone in a room, went off with a groupie, accused me of trying to get it on with your bandmate, and sicced your posse of lawyers onto me.”

He said nothing.

“Not that you going off with a groupie is any of my business. Of course.”

He turned on his heel and paced to the other end of the bathroom, his movements tight, angry. Despite it being five times the size of the one back home, it still didn’t leave enough room for a showdown like this. And he was between me and the door. Because suddenly exiting seemed like a smart move.

“I just asked them to sort out the paperwork,” he said.

“And they sure did.” I put my hands on my hips, standing my ground. “I don’t want any of your money.”

“I heard.” His face was carefully blank. My statement prompted in him none of the disbelief or mockery it had in the suited bullies. Lucky for him. I doubt he believed me, but at least he was willing to pretend. “They’re drawing up new papers.”

“Good.” I stared him down. “You don’t have to pay me off. Don’t make assumptions like that. If you want to know something, ask. And I was never going to sell the story to the press. I wouldn’t do that.”

“Okay.” He slumped against the wall, leaning his head back to stare up at nothing. “Sorry,” he told the ceiling. I’m sure the plasterwork appreciated it immensely. When I made no response, his gaze eventually found me. It had to be wrong, or at the very least immoral, to be so pretty. Normal people didn’t stand a chance. My heart took a dive every time I looked at him. No, a dive didn’t cover it. It plummeted.

Where was Joey to tell me I was being melodramatic when I needed her most?

“I’m sorry, Feyre,” he repeated. “I know the last twenty-four hours have been shit. Offering to get out of here for a while was my way of trying to make things better.”

“Thank you,” I said. “And also for coming in here to check on me.”

“No problem.”

He stared at me, eyes unguarded for once. And the honesty in his gaze changed things for me, the brief flash of something more. Sadness or loneliness, I don’t know. A kind of weariness that was there and gone before I could understand. But it left its mark. There was a lot more to this man than a pretty face and a big name. I needed to remember that and not make my own assumptions.

“You really want to go?” I asked. “Really?”

His eyes were bright with amusement. “Why not?”

I gave him a cautious smile.

“We can talk over whatever we need to, just you and me. I need to make a couple of calls, then we’ll head off, okay?”

I nodded. “Thank you. I’d like that.”

With a parting nod, he opened the door and strode back out. He and Cass talked quietly about something in the living room. I took the opportunity to wash my face once more and finger comb my hair.

“Give me the keys to the truck,” said Rhys, squaring off against Cass.

He winced. “I was joking about giving away cars.”

“Come on. Quit bitching. I rode over on the bike and I don’t have a helmet for her.”

“Fine.” With a sour face, Cassian dropped his car keys into Rhysand’s outstretched hand. “But only ’cause I like your wife. Not a scratch, you hear me?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Rhys turned and saw me.

A hint of a smile curled his lips. Except for that first day on the bathroom floor, I’d never seen him smile, never even seen him come close. This bare trace of one made me light up inside. My knees wobbled. That couldn’t be normal. I shouldn’t be feeling all warm and happy just because he was. I couldn’t afford to have any feelings for him at all. Not if I wanted to get out of this in one piece.

“Thanks for putting up with me today, Cass,” I said.

“The pleasure was all mine,” he drawled. “Sure you wanna go with him, child bride? This prick makes you cry. I make you laugh.”

Rhysand’s smile disappeared and he strode to my side. His hand sat lightly against the base of my spine, warm even through the layer of clothing. “We’re out of here.”

Cassian grinned and winked at me.

“Where are we going?” I asked Rhys.

“Does it matter? Let’s just drive.”

#snelbz whiv #snelbz tacmc collab #the shara tag #snacmc #feysand #what happens in vegas #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf

276 notes · View notes

taelme · 4 years

Text

Enemies-to-lovers!Jisung

request: - anon: Could you maybe write an enemies to lovers like the Chan one but with jisung?? It was so good 😔😔😭🥺💞💞💖💘💘💞💗💞💗💕💞 can it be fluffy and Angsty hehe 😖 maybe where they're both college students - anon: Can you do a Enemies to Lovers AU with chan!!! Where they're going to college and their families happen to be friends so they get an apartment together to save money, but the first time they meet it doesn't go well. Then yk, slowly w time they fall in love ahhaha... I love your writings btw!! 💓💞💓💝💓💞💓💝 (I recently sent the ask about the enemies to lovers au w chan that involved going to college.. since you literally just wrote an enemies to lovers au for chan if you want you can do my request (if u do it ahahha) with jisung!!) - anon: I really love how you write au’s/fanfictions. I just want to know if u can write something about han jisung?? maybe a cafe love story or another tattoo artist just like chan? or maybe a studio date night?

genre: enemies-to-lovers!au, college!au, roommate!au, tattoo apprentice!jisung lol (fluff, a bit of angst)

pairing/s: Han Jisung / Reader ( ft skz Bang Chan and nct/wayv/superm (lmao) Lucas )

word count: 18k

tw: I talk about like kind of sad stuff when jisung has like an artist’s block in this I guess

a/n: thank u anons for being so patient with this request!! I rly hope that I managed to do it well and that you guys are satisfied with the outcome n have fun reading it hehe, it was kind of inspired by the song sunshine!! by stray kids so I hope that it gives u the same good vibes I got from the song while writing this :( ok bye

If it were any other person standing in front of you, maybe you wouldn’t have regretted having an outburst in the café for the morning crowd to see.

The fight, or outburst (if you wanted to relieve him of any role in the exchange), had started rather simply. You were just having one of those days where it was raining outside, you were awake even before roosters were (in your opinion) and you had wanted nothing more than to just curl up in bed and sleep into the evening.

You had gone to grab your morning coffee, combating against the rain with your multi-coloured umbrella, as one does. Shoving the doors of the café open, you were met with shouts of names and storms of people squeezing to collect their orders. The whole ordeal would’ve made you pretty at ease if it weren’t for the coldness of your feet and the way your umbrella would cause someone to slip soon if you didn’t move.

Your shoes squelched against the shiny wood floors of the café, each step making you cringe as you waited anxiously to reach the front of the line, desperate to put an end to this experience. Thankfully enough, your order was pretty straightforward, so you’d collected it quickly, the small smiley face drawn on the cup by the staff serving to put you in a slightly less dreadful mood.

Stationing yourself at one of the empty tables you’d spotted by the exit, you set your still-dripping umbrella on the floor before you tried to get your tissues out to salvage whatever you could of your shoes. Shrugging off your coat, you’d draped it over the back of the seat.

Glancing at the time on your phone before you shoved your notes aside within your bag, you’d pushed your arm forward and opened your bag harshly, taking your box file out of your bag, almost nicking yourself against the broken corner of the file in your rush.

The next sequence of events happened quickly, and too ‘all-at-once’ for you to process. Upon taking out your box file, you’d heard a yelp behind you, followed by harsh footsteps and the splash of coffee on your box file.

Letting out a loud yelp of surprise as the person in question had stopped their fall with a loud thud of their hands against the pillar in front of you, they’d turned to you with wide-eyes, their eyebrows quickly furrowing into an expression that looked utterly ticked-off, their mouth already opening to speak.

You’d seemed to beat them to it, hurriedly grabbing your tissues to wipe down your file, checking for any brown-stains on your precious papers.

“What the hell,” you scoffed, casting a glance up at the boy. He had stood slightly taller than you, with rounded eyes and a defined nose, his lips pressed into a firm line.

He looked fairly young, from the way he dressed in brand-name basics to the way he was practically decked out in accessories. Call you biased, but if this was a senior or a child, you’d probably have let them off with it. But the way he was looking at you now was somehow successfully unnerving you, and you supposed admiring his annoyed features was about the last thing you should be doing at the moment.

“‘What the hell’?” He echoed your words, “who’s the one that chose to stand in the middle of nowhere to go through their damned bag?”

Your eyebrows raised in offence, your annoyance from before making itself known as you frowned, your grip on your bag tightening, “oh, and it’s my fault you have poor coordination?”

The boy had narrowed his eyes, mirroring your expression, his bracelets shifting on his wrist as he gestured at your umbrella on the floor.

“Your stupid umbrella was the reason I tripped in the first place,” he told you pointedly, strangely making you even more annoyed that he chose to attack not only you but your innocent umbrella too.

Your volume raised involuntarily with your frustration, “it’s so bright! It was basically screaming at you that it was there,” you defended, attracting a few customers attention with your outburst. You didn’t understand why you had to go through this so early in the morning when you were already irritable beyond belief.

The boy seemed to have noticed this as well, discomfort washing over him at the feeling of the crowd’s stares. Ultimately deciding he would rather give up the fight with the crazy stranger from the café and leave before he was late for his job at the tattoo studio.

“Whatever,” he huffed, leaving the café, the bells at the doors jingling loudly as it swung back.

Something about the apology just wasn’t enough for you, (maybe you just expected more because he irked you) but you were already late enough for class. Rolling your eyes, you’d slung your bag around your shoulder with a thump, gripping your cup in your hands tightly and picking your umbrella (that now had an evident crease in one of its panels) up before running to class.

Your mom had called you halfway through the day while you were on your way to classes, the gesture enough to make you huff good-naturedly at her insistence.

“Hello?”

“Hey, honey, is this a good time?” her tone was practically dripping with motherly concern, making you let out a breathy laugh, nodding even though she couldn’t see you.

“Yeah, It’s fine,” you told her, “but anyway, I think my umbrella’s broken. Some idiot at the café this morning practically destroyed it with their stupid combat boots.”

Your mom didn’t seem to pay much attention to your rant, cutting straight to the point that she’d called you for.

“Have you met Jisung yet?”

You sighed as you entered the auditorium for your next lecture, lowering your head slightly as you found a seat around the middle of the hall.

“No, not yet. I’m only going over to the house after my classes end, remember? But I heard my stuff already got moved there,” you explained to her, holding your phone between your ear and your shoulder as you took your laptop from your bag, setting it on the table gently.

“Oh, do you want his phone number? To make things easier for the both of you,” she offered, earning a disinterested hum from you.

 Your mom was more than excited about the fact that you would be 1. Not living in a residence within the school and 2. Living with the son of one of her friends from college. You figured your duty as her child now would be to appease her and at least try to live out her desires for you. Which in this case was sharing an apartment alone with some boy you didn’t even know. Maybe your mom was just a little more trusting than most.

You shrugged, “yeah, sure, just send it to me.”

Your mom let out a squeal, “I’m so excited for you to meet him, honey, he’s such a nice boy. You two are sure to get along. I’m so happy you agreed to this.”

Letting out a small sigh, you leant back in your seat as you held your phone with one hand, your other hand going to unlock your computer.

“I still feel like I’m imposing on them,” you hummed.

“Honey, it’s fine, Jisung’s parents insisted that you didn’t have to pay any rent.”

You hummed patronisingly, it wasn’t as if it was the first time she was telling you this, “yeah, uh-huh,” your attention was momentarily diverted by the tall boy that was standing next to you, gesturing to the empty seat with raised eyebrows.

“Sorry, is there anyone sitting here?”

Your lips parted, “okay, mom I gotta go I’ll call you once I’ve settled into the apartment.”

You did a once-over of the boy, who shook his head to get his bangs away from his eyes, giving you a wide smile. Gesturing for him to go ahead and sit down, he’d flopped down onto the seat with a sigh.

Letting go of his bag strap as he turned around, he gave you an appreciative nod as he opened his bag, pulling out a notebook and pen.

“First day, huh,” his voice was deeper than you’d remembered it to be from just seconds ago, his hand coming up to cover his growing smile as a little giggle escaped him, “I’m Lucas.”

“How’d you know?” You hummed, “and my name’s Y/N.” You swore you’d never seen a boy with such sparkly eyes before in your life.

Lucas shrugged, leaning his folded arms on the desk and turning his head slightly to observe you in your confusion, one hand shifting to play with his earring, “haven’t seen you around before.”

“You talk like you know everyone in the school,” you scoffed.

Lucas didn’t seem to sense your sarcasm, simply giving you a shrug, “possibly. And also because it’s my second time taking this stupid class so I should know an unfamiliar face when I see one,” he told you, a hint of bitterness in his tone.

Your eyebrows raised, hearing the doors at the bottom of the auditorium open, a short stocky man walking through and making his way to the speaker’s desk.

“Second time? Why?” You hummed, keeping your gaze on the man in anticipation for what he was about to say.

Lucas cast a glare towards the professor, “I thought he was boring so I didn’t really go much for his lectures the last time, you know, because I thought they weren’t graded. But he decided to include them as passing criteria way too late.”

Lucas pointed at the professor, his sleeve riding up slightly to expose a tattoo at his wrist. You were starting to wonder if everyone at this place had tattoos, the sight seeming fairly common from just your few hours in the school.

You winced, nodding, already getting the sensing that this man was someone you needed to be on good terms with.

“Alright, class, enough talking. From now on, I’m the only one that should be talking so I expect nothing but your full attention from here onwards.”

This was going to be a long lecture.

===

Your mom had texted you the Jisung kid’s number, and you’d dropped him a text saying you were on your way to the apartment, getting a reply from him that he was on his way there as well. You figured he seemed pretty polite, from the way he texted you, so you guessed that helped in making you dread the whole arrangement less.

When you’d reached, you’d ended up at an apartment building that looked fairly plain, walking in to the lobby and scanning the sparsely decorated notice board for residents, the last thing put up being a picnic for families that was 3 months ago.

Stepping into the lift, you’d noticed that though it was relatively well-maintained, it seemed rather dull, from the prison-grey lights to how the mirrors were covered for maintenance. Thankfully, your apartment itself was relatively well-maintained (you remembered your mom telling you the apartment was previously being rented out by Jisung’s parents), aside from the space being a little not-so conducive. But well, they were letting you live here for free, so you couldn’t complain.

Setting your things down onto the sofa in the living room, you moved to examine the respective rooms, frowning when you realised that whoever Jisung was, he’d taken the room with the bigger bed, his clothes either already hung up on the clothing rack or stacked up on his bed.

Walking into what you assumed was your room now, you tried to envision how you could make this space more conducive. From moving the bed aside to switching the desk out to the living room for more light, you tried out different permutations in your head, your time as an amateur interior designer cut short when you heard the rustling of keys at the front door.

Smoothing your hair down to make sure it was neat, you’d dodged the boxes of stuff as you leant over the sofa, curious to see what this Jisung kid would look like.

Jisung had done the same outside the door, making sure his hair and clothes were somewhat presentable before pushing the door open. And immediately wanting to close it back.

“You’re Jisung?”

“You’re Y/N?”

The two of you spoke simultaneously, disbelief and shock written over your features as you pointed an accusatory finger at him.

Like you mentioned before, maybe if the boy at the café this morning wasn’t Jisung, you would’ve regretted your actions a lot less.

Jisung gave you a look of disbelief, stepping into the apartment and folding his arms across his chest, his bag still hanging from his shoulder. He couldn’t wrap his head around how unlucky he must have been to have had such a bad encounter with someone he was about to spend probably his entire college life living with.

He sighed deeply, “now I don’t feel like paying the rent on your behalf anymore.”

You rolled your eyes, “your parents are paying the rent, not you. You have no say in it.”

Jisung made a sound of protest, shaking his head vigorously, his eyes widening in his aggravation.

“No, they aren’t. I told them to let me take care of it because I felt bad for them. But I don’t feel bad for you, so you’re gonna have to split the rent with me.”

Your lips parted, fumbling for a response.

Jisung’s expression was expectant, provoking you almost, “what? Would you rather get an apartment on your own? ‘Cause I’d be more than happy to let my parents know.”

You wanted to cry. It was already the start of the school term so staying in the dorms was out of the question for you already, the deadline having closed long ago. And you knew that finding another apartment in the school district that was within your budget was going to be a pain in the ass. So as much as you hated to admit it, splitting the rent with Jisung was your best option. You needed to get a job asap.

You rolled your eyes, “well…well then why do you get the bigger room?” You huffed, mirroring his stance as you folded your arms across your chest.

Jisung gave you a mocking pout, “simple, ‘cause I got here first,” he brought his hand up, inspecting his nails.

“You should be glad I’m not charging you extra for inconveniencing me,” he added.

Not being able to help but let a small gasp leave you, you were quick to respond, “inconveniencing you? You were the one that got coffee all over my file.”

Jisung shrugged, “potato, potato. Doesn’t change the fact that you made me late for work.”

You clenched your jaw, watching with a glare as he strolled past you, gesturing to the space in the living room which you’d been planning on using as a work area, “I have dibs on this space.”

You frowned, mumbling, “I wanted to shift the desk in my room out here, though.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. Wanna consider moving out now?”

You inhaled deeply, brushing past him to grab your luggage that contained your clothes.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” you huffed in annoyance as you walked into your room, his laughter echoing behind you.

===

“How can you say that? Jisung is a very nice boy,” your mother cried, making you roll your eyes, glaring at your phone from where you were hanging your clothes up.

“He’s the idiot that I fought with at the café, it’s not like I’m saying this without reason.”

You heard your mom sigh deeply, conversing with your dad about something in the background, “try to put your attitude aside for once, please, I’m begging you.”

You groaned, kicking your luggage aside before you made your way over to your bed, flopping down next to your phone with a loud sigh, wincing at the feeling of the springs in your mattress. You were so sure Jisung’s bed was more comfortable.

“It’s not me that has the attitude, it’s him,” you mumbled, sulkiness evident in your tone.

“Enough, Y/N," she said sternly, "If I hear anymore complaints you’re really gonna be in for it.”

You kicked at your blanket, “fine, goodnight. Love you.”

You hung up, staring at your desk as you contemplated on whether to move it into the living room now or tomorrow, distracted from your thoughts when you could hear the water running, not to mention the awfully loud sound of Jisung singing in the shower.

How thin were the walls? Your glare had shifted to your door now.

“Can you keep it down?” You shouted, hearing a silence on his end momentarily. Heaving a sigh of relief, you turned around in your bed only to hear him resume his singing, except this time, you swore it got louder.

Burying your head under your pillow, you kicked at your blanket, hoping this was the worst it could get. It wasn’t that bad, right? You could deal with simple shower concerts. Maybe living with him wasn’t going to be as hard as you thought.

===

Safely to say, you should’ve thought otherwise.

The very first time you realised you'd underestimated Han Jisung, was when you'd gone to the fridge to fix yourself something for dinner, only to find post-its on every single one of the items that read : 'property of han jisung! not for y/n'

You'd moved to look for something else to eat that was unlabelled, only realising then that he'd even gone to the (very petty) extent of labelling the snacks in the cupboard.

Huffing, you'd shrugged your coat on, grabbed your wallet and made a trip to the grocery store.

Cursing him in your head as you shoved your items into your basket, earning yourself looks of scandal from the elders who were for whatever reason still in the grocery store, though you couldn’t be bothered to look more amiable. You’d wanted nothing more than to throw out Jisung’s groceries, but of course, you were a nice person, so you wouldn’t do that. It seemed like you just couldn't get a break when your phone had begun to buzz in your pocket.

"Hey, mom," you hummed, trying not to sound too tired lest she started to drill you about resting. You brought your groceries over to the self-checkout aisle, heaving them onto the small platform with a grunt.

"Have you eaten dinner?"

You huffed, "we didn't have enough food, so I went to buy some groceries." Biting back your tongue, you rolled your eyes, scanning your items and bagging them angrily.

"How's finding a job been?"

You shrugged, Lucas had told you about various job openings nearby your house, (surprising you with how much he knew about the area) one of them you were looking into was a simple job at a café near your apartment. Thankfully, not the one that you'd had your little ‘encounter’ with Jisung at.

"Pretty alright, nothing too difficult,” you hummed, fumbling to pull out your card so you could make your payment, ignoring the stares you were getting from the people queueing up behind you.

"Alright, that's good to hear."

"Everything alright with you and dad at home?" you asked, shoving your card back into your wallet before slinging the bags onto your forearms, beginning to walk out of the supermarket.

"Yes, of course. Don't worry about us, we just miss you."

You sighed, something about the night air putting you in a drowsy mood, "me too. I never realised how much I liked living with you guys till now..."

"Don't tell me you're still having a hard time with Jisung," you heard her tone, your knew that this was her way of implying she didn't want to hear anything other than that you and Jisung's housemate experience was just peachy.

"Don't worry, mom, everything's... fine."

You'd tugged your coat closer to yourself, giving her whatever updates you figured she'd want to know before hanging up, enjoying the peaceful walk before you reached your apartment, figuring this was as much peace you were going to get before you returned to the apartment to be met with his stupid antics again.

And surely enough, the evening breeze accompanied with the sounds of faint conversation from the restaurants nearby had started to put you in a rather drowsy mood, making you start to contemplate if you were even still hungry, the lure of sleep starting to seem more tempting.

Reaching your apartment building, the lift lobby illuminated by a harshly bright lightbulb, you’d bumped into one of the ladies living on the same floor as you exited the lift on your floor, watching as her eyes widened in surprise, giving you a small smile as she enquired.

“Oh, are you the resident from apartment 19B?" you nodded.

If you were drowsy before, you sure weren't drowsy anymore.

You flinched slightly when her expression had changed in an instant, her once amiable expression now replaced with an annoyed glare.

"Can you please refrain from singing so loudly in the middle of the night? Some of us are trying to sleep."

Your eyebrows raised, shaking your head as you slot your keys into the keyhole, opening the door just a crack, "oh, sorry, that's not me that's my housemate—”

The middle-aged lady had narrowed her eyes at you, "you know, It's not ethical for someone as young as you to be living with a man when you're so young—”

"Okay, sorry, won't happen again!" you told her quickly in your attempt to appease her, shoving the door open and slamming it behind you, turning around only to see Jisung standing in the living room, dressed in loungewear with black gloves on his hands as he pointed at you in amusement, his shoulders shaking as he laughed.

"Aw, I'm not the only one that thinks it's not ethical for you to live here," he pouted.

You rolled your eyes, "I can't believe she thought I was the one singing," you huffed, going over to the kitchen to see yet more dishes in the sink.

Pointing at them with a look of disbelief on your face, "are you not gonna clean these either?"

Jisung turned around, looking at the sink with evident contempt, shrugging. He held his hands up to you, showing you that they were currently gloved.

"I'm a little busy, why don't you do me a favour this once? Consider it compensation," he grinned, making his way back to....your room?

"What are you doing in my room?" you asked, shoving the last of your groceries haphazardly into the fridge before you'd followed him into your room, shutting your mouth quickly when you saw that he’d practically set up a work station next to your desk, looking closer to find that he was using what looked like tattoo equipment.

“Practicing,” he shrugged.

You didn’t bother asking what his business using tattoo equipment was, simply huffing in exasperation, “and you had to do it in my room, of all places?”

Jisung nodded, pushing one of his sleeves up on his shoulder, revealing a rather big tattoo on his arm that was partially hidden by his sleeve.

“This is the only room with an accessible plug and a good enough space to work in.”

“Then why didn’t you just take this room as your bedroom?” You were dumbfounded at the way he was so nonchalant about his actions, the buzzing of the tattoo needle resuming as he practised on fake skin.

“I like to sleep in a comfortable bed,” he shrugged, leaning back to look at his tattoo.

“And you think I don’t?” You shot back, your hands going to your hips, his reply coming just as quick.

“Well, for $300 bucks above the rent maybe you can,” he smirked, using a tissue to rub at the fake skin, looking at you as he poked his tongue in his cheek, quirking his eyebrows before turning back to continue tattooing.

That night, you remembered asking Lucas if he knew who Jisung was, since he’d mentioned how he was pretty into tattoos, having a few of his own, his reply only making you wonder if the world was just small or you were just unlucky.

lucas wong

8:53pm - oh yeah I know him! he’s apprentice-ing at the tattoo shop I usually go to, he’s pretty good-

8:53pm - why? do u like him? I cld put in a good word for u-

You sighed deeply

8:53pm - no thanks im good-

Little did you know, the next time Lucas had visited the the tattoo studio, he’d spotted Jisung working on his designs at one corner of the room, going against your request and disturbing Jisung even despite how he looked like that was the last thing he wanted, too focused on the shadings of his chrysanthemum flower sketch on his tablet to have paid attention to Lucas' entrance.

“Hey, do you know anyone named Y/N?”

Jisung’s face scrunched up in distaste, looking up at Lucas and hoping desperately that he was joking, “don’t tell me… freshman Y/N?”

Lucas nodded, his eyes lighting up in excitement, “yeah! So you guys do know each other.”

Jisung made an uncertain sound, “I wouldn’t call it much of a relationship. Y/N’s my housemate.”

Jisung’s words had sparked a realisation in Lucas, the latter only piecing together your disdain towards Jisung with your stories about your ‘asshole housemate’

Lucas’ silence had caught Jisung off guard, making Jisung look up at Lucas expectantly, “sorry, you wanted to go get something to eat, right?”

Lucas nodded, masking his shock with a smile, recovering quickly.

“Wait, lemme go call Chan,” Jisung murmured, beckoning the boy who was currently snacking at the reception area.

“Where do you guys wanna go?” Lucas asked, earning a hum from Chan.

“I kinda wanted to get a smoothie,” Chan admitted sheepishly, though thankfully, Jisung and Lucas didn’t seem to have a problem with that.

 “Why didn’t you wanna go to the other café? They’ve got better smoothies,” Lucas wondered out loud, making Jisung snort.

“We’re only going there because Chan has a fat crush on one of the baristas.”  

Which was what ended them up at the café you worked at.

The moment they had entered, you noticed your colleague tense beside you, bending down to pretend to take something from below the counter.  

“Shit, they’re here. Oh my god, help,”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “who?”

“That cute tattoo artist guy I was telling you about!” She whispered harshly, standing up and greeting the boys with a smile, her heart eyes directed particularly at one of them with curly hair.

Only then did you realise Lucas and Jisung were there, receiving an overwhelming feeling of wanting to bang your head into the cash register. You already saw him enough at home, and now you had to see him at work too?

“Hi, how may I help you?” You smiled at the curly haired boy, casting a glare in Jisung’s direction, the boy looking equally as dismayed to see you here.

“Hello, can I get the berry smoothie?” He asked, and you stepped aside, letting your colleague ring up his order while you prepared his drink, giving it to your colleague to serve since she’d spent so long talking to him.

Lucas had mouthed a ‘sorry’ to you when he’d gone to sit at one of the tables with Chan, Jisung lingering at the cashier as your colleague went to the backroom to squeal.

“What do you want?” you wore a bored expression.

Jisung looked almost too focused, his eyes glaring at the laminated menu between the both of you.

“I changed my mind, I want a drink too.”

You suppressed your urge to roll your eyes, your finger scratching at the corner of the cash register, “you couldn’t have ordered it like five seconds ago?”

Jisung shot you a look, “yeah, well I didn’t want it five seconds ago.”

Inhaling deeply, you’d gestured to the menu, and now not only was your expression bored-to-death, but your tone was too, "what do you want?”

“I want an iced americano,” he told you, pausing before he added, “and ask your friend to make it. I don’t trust you not to spit in my drink.”

You gave him a sarcastic smile, “good call.”

Ringing up his order, you’d called your friend, dismissing any thought of ever having a normal encounter with Jisung.

Upon returning to his table, Chan had given him a look, "Lucas told me you know the cashier."

"Not the one you think is cute, don't worry,” Jisung sighed, glancing in his drink just for good measure.

Chan's eyebrows lifted in amusement, "so the one you think is cute?"

Almost instinctually, Jisung replied, "yeah," paying more attention to his drink than his words. Looking up when he heard Chan and Lucas struggle to stifle their giggles.

"What?"

Lucas clapped his hands together, his smile wide, "you just said Y/N was cute."

"No, I didn't, you did." Jisung shot back quickly. It was obvious that retaliation didn't always have to make sense for him.

Chan had a curious glint in his eyes now, the corner of his lips quirking up into a smirk, "I mean, you guys do live together right, and you've really never thought anything about her?"

“I did, I thought her nagging was annoying as hell,” Jisung shrugged.

 Chan narrowed his eyes at Jisung, an amused smirk on his face, “you know that’s not what I meant.”

Jisung gave Chan a pointed look, "I'd appreciate if you wouldn't stir shit, especially not in front of him." Jisung pointed at Lucas.

"You didn't answer the question," Lucas sing-songed.

Jisung scoffed, casting a furtive glance towards your direction where you were smiling as your colleague showed you something on their phone.

Jisung shrugged, it wasn’t as if you looked bad or anything, with his pride, he’d probably have told Chan that you were pretty if he squinted.

“Guess if they smiled more they'd be...decent."

 Lucas raised his eyebrows, enjoying the scene playing out in front of him very much, “decent, huh.”

Chan leant back in his seat, shaking his head at Jisung, "now I feel like I have to make you my apprentice for relationships too."

Jisung scoffed, regaining his usual confidence.

"If by that you mean you want me to stand at the counter giggling my ass off like how you did with that cashier then no thanks, I'm good on my own."

===

You'd tried your best to tolerate Jisung, especially after Lucas fed you some story about how he takes a while to warm up to people (which you totally bought).

This tolerance came in the form of things like waking up earlier to use the bathroom so the both of you wouldn't have to fight in the morning, or giving him reminders to do the laundry or clean the dishes but only doing them after he forgot the third reminder.

Jisung usually forgot to turn off the lights whenever he went to sleep (though sometimes he did it on purpose, not liking the eerie darkness of the house when the lights were off), so you would always end up waking from the glare of the lights that seeped into your room, stepping over the mess of clothes or socks (sometimes even shoes) in the walkways and turning them off for him instead of nagging him about the lights. See? Tolerance.

Call you a pushover or whatever, but you kind of prided yourself on how your well of patience seemed to run deep. Very deep. Deeper than the average human, you supposed, even.

However, days like the ones you were having now, just didn't seem to let you draw from that well of patience.

You'd started off your shitty morning when you'd slept through your alarm, needing your usual work clothes but realising that Jisung hadn't done the laundry, leaving you with no choice but to grab the nearest hoodie you could find on your bedroom floor and sprint to work.

If that wasn't enough, you'd landed cashier duty as punishment for being late, your social battery starting to empty not even halfway through the day. Your 'hi, how may I help you's slowly turning to 'what would you like's to eventually 'hi's and ending up with a small smile and gesture towards the menu.

It didn't help that Chan, the tattoo artist your colleague had an obvious thing for, had shown up halfway to try and strike a conversation with you about Jisung, much to no avail.

“Aren’t you wondering why Jisung isn’t here?” You remembered him asking, to which you’d shook your head.

“Not really,” you shrugged, earning a thoughtful hum from Chan.

“Really? You’re not even the slightest bit curious?”

You had shook your head at him then, remembering the way he looked so shocked to have made you even more curious about why he was asking you this in the first place.

By the time you were done with your work, you'd wanted nothing more than to just go home, take the longest shower of your life and curl up in your horribly uncomfortable bed. Except you couldn't even do that, because you had unfinished readings for your class the next day.

You figured if you sat yourself at your desk with no distractions you could be done sooner and go to sleep sooner, but your one distraction had just come home from the tattoo studio and was somehow getting on your nerves even more today.

Not only had he been acting as if he was the opera community's 'next big thing', he'd proceeded to seat himself on the sofa behind you, watching whatever show he was into loudly, seeming to find whatever the protagonist was saying to be too hilarious to just enjoy the show silently.

You figured you could handle that much, you know, having to live up to your preachings on tolerance, deciding to breathe deeply and suppress your urge to tell him to shut up, and soon enough, he'd disappeared.

But your joy was short lived, once again, when Jisung came back out, singing as he made a snack for himself and proceeded to eat it right in front of you, the smell growing more and more distracting.

Now, he was now lounging on the sofa in the living room, headphones on and connected to his laptop that rest on his stomach, but still typing away with his phone not on silent, the keyboard sounds distracting you from your reading. You figured, maybe your well of patience was just closed today.

“Hey,” you called. No response. If anything, the silence of the apartment had made his typing sounds even louder.

“Hey, oh my god, can you like put your phone on silent or something?" You tried again. Still no response, now, he was humming in between his pauses before he would type another burst of words on his phone.

Deciding you had to take matters into your own hands, you stormed over to where he was, your book still in your hands as you stood in front of him, making him turn to you with wide-eyes.

Pulling his headphones off of his head, he frowned, "what?"

“This,” you gestured pointedly towards his phone, “put your phone on silent, it's distracting me."

Jisung would've complied, though a part of him couldn't help but be annoyed by your nagging, his instinct prompting him to act defensively, “why don’t you just listen to some music or something? Then my typing sounds wouldn’t be a problem,” he told you dismissively, making you groan in frustration.

“I can’t study with music, it’s already hard enough for me to focus as it is.”

Jisung was annoyed, “It’s just a typing sound, what are you getting so worked up for? You’re always getting on my back about everything when I’m just minding my own business."

You let out a groan, "look, it's been more than a month, and i'm up to here with your shit," you held a hand way above your head for emphasis, any of your tolerance long gone out of the window (which he had also left open, making the apartment chilly and noisy).

Jisung's eyebrows knit in a frown, your outburst coming as a shock to him, "fine, whatever. I'll put my phone on silent, chill."

You shook your head, your gaze firm and unwavering, "no, I wanna make rules."

Rules? Jisung wanted to scoff. What was this, a second-grade classroom?

Jisung stared at you in shock, nodding dumbly. "Rules....oka-alright, yeah. Let's make rules."

You nodded firmly, "first of all, if you're gonna make food at ungodly hours in the morning, eat it in your own room."

"And the dishes, clean up after yourself," you added, gripping your book tightly in your hand.

“Stop leaving your shit in the corridors,” you continued, “and pack up your shoes it’s such a mess at the door way I can barely walk into the house,” you huffed, feeling as though with every rule you made you were finally letting your feelings be heard.

Jisung wracked his brains for a rule of his own, finding ways to regain control over the situation, "well, I have a rule too! You gotta stop nagging me to do shit," he sat up, setting his headphones on the sofa cushion.

You let out a tiny gasp, "excuse me? I only ask you to ‘do shit’ that you should be doing."

Before you could get carried away, you continued, "and as for the laundry—”

Jisung perked up, “okay, how about this. I do the dishes and you do the laundry," he suggested with a forced smile, bringing a hand up to run it through his hair, which fell back against his forehead gently.

"You know for a fact that that’s not the same, so we'll switch," you told him, "you do laundry on one week when I do the dishes, and the next week i'll do the laundry and you do the dishes. Fair, right?"

Jisung huffed, rolling his eyes, "whatever."

At the mention of laundry, Jisung glanced over at what you were wearing, frowning at the familiarity of his hoodie.

"Good, now that we have an agree—”

"That's mine," he pointed at your stomach, making you look at him in disbelief.

"Huh?" Your stomach? Your hands found their way to cover your stomach.

"The hoodie. It's mine."

You looked down at the hoodie you were wearing, a frown evident on your face. You didn't know what he was talking about, you had this hoodie since you were in high-school, it couldn't be his.

"No, it's mine. I had this since I was in high-school," you frowned, unsure if this was some sort of joke he was trying to play.

Jisung couldn't hide his amusement, letting a laugh slip from his lips, "yeah, so did I... which is why I know that that's mine."

You scoffed, "it was on my bedroom floor," you mumbled, seeing him nod patronisingly.

"Because I left it there," he told you, enunciating his words slower, shocking you when he'd reached over and grabbed you by the sleeve, raising your hand up for you to see.

"Look, this stain. It's tattoo ink. I would know because you're wearing the wrong hoodie. New rule, don’t wear my clothes.”

You stood silent, huffing as you removed the hoodie, leaving you in your shirt and sweats, tossing the hoodie at him in annoyance, the smirk on his face making you even more annoyed.

"Fine, take your stupid hoodie, I don’t wanna wear your stupid clothes anyway,” you huffed, “and you’re on laundry duty this week."

You didn't finish your readings that night.

===

You would like to think your rule system was working pretty well, seeing as you didn't find yourself butting heads with Jisung as often as before.

Halfway into the semester, you had grown busier with your assignments, which had managed to take your attention away from Jisung.

Though you were certainly more tired than usual, from attending birthday parties of friends to working, to rushing your readings during any free time you got (not to mention squeezing in any bit of sleep whenever you could), to rushing through your assignments just to meet the packed deadlines. But you couldn’t complain, this was typical for any college student you knew.

But of course, that didn’t mean you weren’t itching for a break, eyeing the semester break on your calendar that was fast approaching, letting yourself get carried away during classes with Lucas as you both planned on your pieces of scrap paper all the things you’d wanted to do during the break.

Similarly, Jisung had grown busier at the tattoo studio, and Chan had recommended him to a music producer that was interested in hearing Jisung's compositions.

Jisung was more than thankful that Chan had given him that opportunity, of course, but what was bothering him was the pain-in-the-ass creative block he was beginning to struggle with.

Not only was he struggling to find inspiration for a song he'd wanted to make, but the process seemed almost painfully slow, with how he'd fumble around with ideas that he would start on but eventually scrap, deciding that he 'wasn't feeling it'.

He'd started receiving commissions for tattoo designs, and you'd noticed he wasn't at home as often as he was before because he'd made it a point to coop himself up in the studio to try to churn out these design requests.

Fortunately, his customers were always satisfied (and he thought that was great, you know, with all the good words from Chan he was getting), but he wasn't.

Chan had seemed to sense this too, making sure to check in on Jisung more than usual during this period.

"Hey, I'm heading home a little earlier today, you'll be fine alone?"

Jisung's head lifted when he heard Chan's voice, pulling one of his earbuds from his ear as he nodded.

Chan glanced at Jisung's papers scattered around him, of half-done or halfway-abandoned sketches, giving him a look of sympathy, "don't work too hard, alright?" he huffed, glancing out of the window.

"I heard it might rain tonight, so make sure you get home before the rain hits, alright?"

Jisung waved Chan off, not paying any care to the impending rain as he bid Chan goodbye, continuing to tap his pencil on the table in his search for good ideas.

Maybe he needed to consult a lifeline.

"Hello, Lucas?"

The said lifeline was more than happy to hear Jisung's voice, having heard from you that he wasn't home as much recently, a part of him concerned as well.

"Hey, man, what's up?"

Jisung hummed, "wanted to ask if you had any ideas on what tattoos you think would be cool."

Lucas snorted, "you're asking me? You could draw a turd and i'd want to get it tattooed. Dude, you're too good, just go with your gut."

Jisung let out a whine, "my gut's not being very useful right now."

Lucas hummed, letting out an urgent grunt of surprise, "I know! Why don't you take a look at your older designs, maybe they'd give you some vibes or something."

Jisung shrugged, figuring this was probably the best advice he was gonna get, thanking Lucas before hanging up.

Picking up his tablet, Jisung had scrolled through his various sketches until he'd reached the very first few designs, sighing at the sight of the sketches, looking at his first sketch of a peony flower, with leaves dangling along the stem wedged between the budding flowers.

Jisung figured he wouldn't let his dissatisfaction subside until he tried doing a better rendition of the sketch, to refine the shading or the flow of the shape from what he'd learnt from Chan overtime.

Putting back his earbuds in, he turned his music up, beginning to work on the sketch, riding on the motivation he was afraid would disappear at any given moment.

Jisung was surprised at how fast he was done, ( only to look at the clock and realise he wasn't that fast and that it was already a little past midnight ). Removing his earbuds and going back to the sound of the whirring air conditioner and the loud sound of rain thumping against the gravel outside, Jisung knew he was done for.

He hadn't brought an umbrella with him, and the rain frankly didn't look like it was going to stop anytime soon, Jisung contemplated his very limited options.

Was a binder enough to shield him from the rain? Probably not. But was it better than putting down his pride to text you to come and pick him up? He thought the binder was better, honestly.

Deciding to try his luck anyway, he'd sent you a text.

Little did Jisung know, you'd dozed off on your bed while reading, the vibration of your phone next to your face having woken you from your nap, the sound of the rain outside harshly thumping against the window.

han jisung 12:37am -hello, housemate. it is your housemate, han jisung. its raining rly badly. wld u be so kind as to come to the tattoo studio with an umbrella for me pls :D-

You frowned in annoyance, your eyes barely open as you replied him. There was no way you were going to send yourself out in the thunderstorm like that.

12:37am - no. just wait until it stops raining-

Thinking that had settled your worries, you'd shoved your phone underneath your pillow, deciding you'd let yourself sleep in since tomorrow was a Saturday after all.

You should've known better, that this was Jisung, the 'i'm tougher than a little bit of rain' Jisung, so you should've seen it coming when you'd woken up to the sound of his incessantly ringing phone.

Rolling out of your bed with a grunt, you'd pushed yourself off of the bed, ready to confront Jisung about not answering his phone.

Walking across the corridor and pushing his bedroom door open, you'd been met with an empty room, frowning as you walked over to the bed, picking the phone up and stopping the alarm.

You noticed that he'd received a few texts from Chan, not being able to help yourself from reading them.

chan 1:20am - dude! why didnt u just wait for the rain to stop?- 1:22am - ure gna fall sick…-

Frowning, you made your way into the living room, spotting Jisung curled up on the sofa with his blanket at his feet, an instant feeling in your gut that something was wrong.

“Jisung?” You called, seeing his eyebrows furrow slightly.

In spite of yourself, you’d walked over to where he lay, your hand coming out to nudge at his shoulder with his phone.

“Hey, are you…alright?” You watched and waited as he opened his eyes slowly, blinking at you in a daze. There was perspiration beading at his temples despite the coolness of the apartment, giving you more reason to feel like there was something wrong.

As much as you didn’t like him, you couldn’t help but feel as though you were responsible for him, and it was kind of your fault that he’d walked back in the rain. You glanced at your brightly-coloured umbrella leaning against the wall, figuring there was something about this umbrella that always got you into trouble with Jisung.

You suppressed your hesitation, bringing a hand up to his forehead, Jisung not even daring to budge even an inch as you pushed his bangs back. The back of your hand pressing against his forehead gently, your breath hitching at the sheer heat of his body.

This was probably the most contact you’d ever had with him in your months of living together, and Jisung knew this too, not knowing how to feel about the concern you were showing him, feeling as though it was some kind of ridiculous fever dream.

“You walked home in the rain didn’t you?” You murmured, your feeling of guilt growing as you saw him nod at you.

You cursed inwardly, “do you have a thermometer?”  

Jisung shook his head, attempting to get up, “it’s fine, I can take care of myself, just give me my phone.”

You handed him his phone, ignoring his previous statement as you went into the kitchen in your search for any kind of medicine you could give him, cursing once again when you realised there was none. Trust the both of you to only care to buy groceries.

“We don’t have jack shit in this house,” you groaned, walking over to the bathroom, finding a cloth and a small pail to fill with cold water, bringing it over to the coffee table and setting it down next to the sofa.

“I’ve gotta go to work,” Jisung sighed, though he made no move to get up, a part of him just waiting for you to refute him so he could use you as an excuse to get off work.

You shot him a look, “no, you don’t. Shut up and lie down, I’ll go and buy your stupid medicine. If I come back and you’re not here I’ll kill you,” you warned, missing the way Jisung had complied happily, lying back down with his head on one of the sofa cushions.

Squeezing the water from the cloth, you may have slapped it a little harshly on his forehead, earning an annoyed glare from him.

Walking to grab your wallet, you cast one last look at his bored face, seeing him rush to close his eyes when he saw you glaring.

“I mean it, you better stay here.”

Jisung nodded, waving you off.

On your way to the pharmacy, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was a good thing that Jisung was sick.

In terms of your pros, if he was sick, he wouldn’t be able to annoy you, right? And him being sick meant that you’d basically had your desk and your bedroom to yourself, with him unable to practice tattooing in your room and use your desk as his sketching station.

In terms of your cons… well, you were planning on getting some rest today, and having to watch Jisung meant you would technically have to be near him, wouldn’t you? You were starting to wonder if that was even a con that he was basically giving you an excuse to laze around and watch tv.

“Hi, how may I help you?” The pharmacist asked.

You hummed, “uh…do you have those over-the-counter medicine and stuff for like someone with fever?”

The pharmacist nodded, pulling out the various boxes and pointing at each one, confusing you with the sheer amount of names she was listing, resulting in you just choosing the one you recognised your parents telling you to take whenever you were sick.

Making your payment, you swallowed whatever pride you had that was making you hesitate. You figured Jisung falling sick was karma for that text you sent him the night before, so you decided that you were going to see him recover for yourself.

Upon returning to the house, you’d shrugged your jacket off, making your way over to where he was, sitting on your heels next to where he was so you could gently peel the cloth from his head, replacing it with one that was soaked in colder water.

You’d drawn back slightly when you felt Jisung flinch as you laid the towel on his forehead, opening one eye to look at you, “that was fast.”

You rolled your eyes, shushing him as you took the medicine out, along with a glass of water you’d gotten from the kitchen, bringing it over to him with an expectant look.

Jisung took them from you wordlessly, swallowing them down as he averted his gaze from you, unsure why you were looking at him like some kicked puppy.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, reaching over to grab the television remote in an attempt to calm your nerves, “this is kind of my fault. Since I didn’t go over to the tattoo studio yesterday.”

Jisung took a moment to process what you said, wincing as he let out a (fake) cough, only serving to make you feel even more guilty than you already were.

“Are you actually…apologising to me?” Jisung’s smile was poorly hidden behind his hand, making you roll your eyes, your guilt ever-present when you looked at him.

Jisung sighed, deciding to let you off this once, “seriously, it’s no big deal. I didn’t expect you to come, anyway. I was just trying my luck,” he told you, making you frown, your mouth forming a slight pout.

“I was just being petty, I’m…” you trailed off, shaking your head, “yeah, whatever, I’m just really sorry.”

Jisung looked at you with a hint of a smile on his face, taking his lower lip between his teeth as he nodded. He wasn’t sure if it was his fever, or the way your gestures were exuding warmth, but Jisung swore just for a moment. A second, almost, he kind of thought you looked cute.

Jisung nodded, “I’ll let you know by the end of the day.”

You frowned, turning away from the television to face him, your back resting on the sofa slightly, “let me know about what?”

Jisung kept his gaze fixed on the television, bringing his hand up to scratch at his collarbone, hints of his tattoos peeking out from his neckline.

 Shrugging, Jisung’s gaze shifted to meet yours, “if your apology is accepted.”

You were sure that your mom would’ve just laughed in your face if you told her about your experience today, as you began to realise just how much you didn’t hate Jisung’s company when the both of you weren’t trying to fight each other.

In the few hours that had passed alone, you’d learnt much more about him than you had bothered to in your months living with him. You’d learnt that he was a music major, that wanted to pursue a career in music production, and that he’d gotten interested in tattoos when he’d met this kid named Changbin in his class, who introduced him to Chan for an apprenticeship.

As for Jisung? He was just learning that you weren’t as intolerable as he thought you were.

You’d ordered food for the both of you, Jisung having refused to eat porridge, and you were currently having an actual, comfortable conversation with him, the hallmark movie playing on the television long forgotten.

Jisung’s phone had started to ring, interrupting him mid-sentence as he told you about how the tattoo studio works, making you lean over to check who it was.

“It’s Chan.”

Jisung grimaced, “speak of the devil,” he scoffed. Shaking his head vigorously as you made to grab his phone, Jisung set his chopsticks down hurriedly to reach for his phone, only to grab air when you’d answered the call.

“Hello?” You heard Chan speak, an urgency to his tone.

“Hey, this is Y/N. Jisung is…not feeling so well right now.”

Jisung shot you a look, bringing his hands around his throat with his chopsticks held between his fingers, acting as if he was so sick he was about to pass out, making loud coughing noises in the background.

You couldn’t help but smile, scrunching your nose and waving him off in your attempt to get him to stop before he choked on his food.

Chan sighed, “Is he, now? Tell him I’m shifting today’s appointment to next Wednesday. Anyway, thanks, Y/N, bye,” he hung up promptly after.

You gave Jisung a grim look, setting the phone down slowly onto the coffee table, “Chan said he’s shifting your appointment to Wednesday.”

Jisung’s lips parted, almost forgetting his cheeks were full of food, tilting his head back to groan.

“Chan’s gonna kill me.”

“Why?”

Jisung shoved more food into his mouth, chewing slowly, “I totally forgot, I was supposed to do this girl’s tattoo today, but cause I’m, you know, sick,” he gave you a pointed look, “I can’t do it.”

“You do tattoos already? I thought you were still just…”

Jisung rolled his eyes, “what? Still just tattooing on fake skin?”

You nodded sheepishly, earning a sigh from him, though you didn’t miss the small smile on his face.

“I’ll have you know, I can tattoo people now. You know Lucas’ tattoo of the angel looking mermaid hybrid type thing?”

You hummed in thought, his description oddly specific yet successfully helping you visualise the tattoo, gesturing to your forearm, “the one he got here?”

Jisung nodded, “I did that for him.”

Your eyes widened, impressed at the scale of Jisung’s detail in his design, remembering how enamoured you were with it when Lucas had first showed it to you.

“Lucas’ been asking me to get a tattoo with him once the break starts,” you mentioned casually, earning a surprised hum from Jisung.

“Oh,” his eyes widened, as if he was still trying to process what you said, “really?”

You nodded, “still thinking about it, though. Haven’t really decided on what I wanted.”

Jisung scooped the last of his food into his mouth, giving you as nonchalant a shrug as he could muster.

“Well, uh, you know, if you want or something you could come one of the days during the break, I could show you some stuff I think you’d like.”

You nodded, the simple suggestion somehow exciting you.

That night, you’d gotten ready for bed, having made sure Jisung ate his medicine before he went to sleep.

Before you could move to switch the lights off, he’d stopped you/

“Wait, like…can you um… leave the lamp on?” You raised an eyebrow at him, but complied nonetheless, figuring this was your chance to repent while he was sick.

“Goodnight,” you murmured, stretching your arms above your head with a yawn.

“Yeah, night…” he murmured, inhaling deeply, “oh, and Y/N?”

You frowned, “uh-huh?” Looking at him expectantly, your breath hitched at the sight of the small smile that made its way on his face, the moonlight casting a calm glow in the room that mirrored his expression.

“Apology accepted.”

You smiled, nodding before you left. Hopefully this meant things were looking up for your relationship.

===

After that day, it was as if something in your dynamic had shifted, you found that Jisung was giving you lesser and lesser reasons to be annoyed at him.

Lucas had gotten a kick out of it when you’d told him about it.

“You guys finally realised it wouldn’t kill you to be nice to each other?” You remembered him telling you.

You would beg to differ, though, because with this shift in dynamic came a whole lot of awkwardness, especially when one of you had done something mildly nice for the other person.

Take this instance, for example.

You’d been sitting at your desk, trying to finish up on your essay that was due that week, not wanting to let your motivation subside without making full use of it (also because you knew if you didn’t do it now, you’d procrastinate and stress out when you realised you were behind time).

You’d been able to faintly smell Jisung’s noodles that he was cooking in the kitchen, making you sigh. You didn’t like eating things after you had your dinner, but you couldn’t lie and say that they didn’t smell great.

Expecting to hear his bedroom door shut and feel the smell of the noodles get fainter, he’d surprised you when he made his way over to you, setting a mug containing a hot drink on your desk.

Turning to him abruptly, he’d flinched back, looking at you with wide eyes as his hands flew up over his chest, making you laugh.

“I’m not gonna hit you, calm down.”

Jisung relaxed (albeit hesitantly), one of his hands coming up to grip the back of his neck, gesturing towards the mug with his other hand.

“Go ahead, I uh…didn’t poison it or anything,” a huff of awkward laughter left him.

You glanced from the mug to him, nodding slowly, “thanks.”

“Don’t, you know…sleep too late, and stuff,” he told you, earning a nod from you.

He nodded back at you, giving you a close-lipped smile before practically jogging back to his room, the door shutting a little louder than usual, a yelp of apology echoing after.

It wasn’t as if you didn’t try to to be nice to him either, but frankly, he wasn’t giving you many opportunities to do so.

 Jisung was still keeping his worries to himself, with his creative block seeming to have spiralled him into heavy feelings of anxiousness and a lack of confidence in his abilities.

You figured that things had been weighing heavy on his mind when you realised he’d been intentionally keeping the light on more often when he slept, or how the typing sounds of his keyboard would get more frequent as it got later into the night.

You’d even had Chan pleading for you to check up on Jisung every now and then once you noticed that he’d been sleeping a lot more and eating at irregular intervals. Listening out for his humming every now and then, you noticed the melodies seemed to have taken a more slow-paced, almost melancholic turn.

One night, you’d decided that if Jisung wasn’t going to give you opportunities to be nice to him, you would just create them for yourself. Making a determined trip to the kitchen, you’d boiled his favourite type of instant ramen, having seen how he made it so many times you knew just what to add in.

Padding over to his room, you’d knocked on the door before pushing it open slightly, watching him straighten up where he sat on his bed, setting his iPad down beside him, his thigh blocking it from your view.

“Hey, I uh…here,” you cut to the chase, Jisung was quick to find something to put under the pot on his bed, opening it and looking at you wordlessly.

“Figured the both of us could use a break,” you shrugged, oblivious to the way your words had stirred something within Jisung.

“What were you working on?” You asked, scooping some noodles into a bowl for Jisung and handing it to him.

He’d taken the bowl from you absently, his eyes widening at the mention of the sketch, unconsciously pushing it further behind him.

“Nothing, I was just doodling.”

Jisung had no idea how to explain that he had been trying to design something for you, something that reminded him of you. Because frankly, that was the only thing that seemed to be pushing his creative block aside at the moment.

“Can I see?”

Usually, Jisung would’ve fought you ( to the death ) before he’d let you see his unfinished designs, but there was something about your demeanour that made him feel like it was okay to show you. That it was okay to tell you that it wasn’t perfect because something inside of him just told him that you would understand.

In spite of any rational fibre in his being, he’d picked up the tablet, giving it to you as he continued to eat the ramen, his gaze never leaving your expression, oblivious to your scrolling as he was too busy gauging your reaction.

“These are all really pretty,” you told him, scrolling until you’d reached the bottom, clicking on one of the drawings and flipping the screen around to show Jisung.

“I love this,” you told him, earning a surprised hum from him.

He saw that you’d clicked on the sketch of the peony that he’d tried to refine that day he got rained on, wondering what made you choose that out of all his designs, since he was probably the least satisfied with that one.

“Are you sure? What about this one?” He took the tablet from you, scrolling back to the design he was working on, making you hum thoughtfully, eventually shaking your head no.

“I like the other one better,” you told him, earning a confused hum from him.

“Why?”

You scoffed, frowning at him, “why are you so against it? You’re the one that drew it,” you took the tablet back from him, holding it against your shoulder before shaking your head, setting it back down onto your lap.

“Besides,” you murmured, zooming in to admire the shading on the flower, “I think it’s beautiful.”

Jisung’s expression was unreadable, unsure how you had such strong appreciation for something he thought was his worst work, something about the way you praised it making a strange feeling that he couldn’t place build within his chest.

It was like before, the feeling of comfort, that he didn’t have to worry about any kind of creative block that could be thrown his way because you gave him a different perspective on his abilities.

You know, the cliché, hard-hitting feeling that ‘everything is gonna be okay’.

“Do you have anything happening during the break?” You asked, earning a shrug from him.

“I’ve gotta submit my song to Chan’s music producer friend.”

You perked up at the mention of Jisung’s song, “have you thought of what you wanted to do for it yet?”

Jisung shook his head, letting out a deep sigh, “it’s been kind of stressing me out, to be honest,” he admitted.

“I like…I don’t wanna give him something that doesn’t show what I’m capable of, you know?”

You nodded, “I understand…I wish I could help you but I don’t really, you know, know how,” you fidgeted with your fingers, hearing him grunt in dismissal.

“It’s fine,” he mustered a confident smile, “nothing I can’t handle.”

And for a moment, you really would’ve believed that he’d gotten it handled. Leaving him to continue with his work as you got ready for bed.

You had almost anticipated to hear typing sounds as you did every night these days. But unlike the other nights, Jisung didn’t very well feel like being alone with his thoughts that night, not even wanting to type them down. He craved the feeling of being okay, of feeling like he still had time and didn’t have to be anxious or feel shitty about his mediocre work.

So it had come as a surprise to you when you’d heard the gentle knock at your door that night just as you were about to drift into a half-asleep state, hearing the door open and watching as Jisung made his way hesitantly over to where you were.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” You heard him let out a shaky breath, and you didn’t need to ask him further, giving him a small hum of approval as he’d pulled the small heated mat from under your bed and made himself comfortable next to your bed.

Jisung let his head hit the ground gently, a deep sigh leaving him as he closed his eyes.

“Do you want me to leave the lamp on?” You mumbled, hearing him hum.

“No, it’s fine,” he told you, strangely not feeling much of a need for it now that he had you near him.

The both of you knew better than to speak more, the silence seeming to have made you understand how he was feeling. And as he lay there, with your presence in the room, Jisung felt alright, and so did you.

That night, there were no typing sounds.

===

Contrary to yesterday, you'd started today on a good note. Having bumped into Jisung the next morning after he'd gotten ready, meeting in the hallway when you were still dressed in your sleepwear, you couldn't help but smile.

"Morning," he murmured, a small smile on his face as he gave you a little wave, leaving promptly to meet Chan at the tattoo studio.

You didn't have work today, and you'd arranged a meeting with Lucas to hang out, the boy not seeming to want to waste anymore time when he'd finally arrived at the mall, practically bounding over to where you were waiting at the fountain in the atrium.

"So, have you thought about it yet?" he asked you, extending a hand to help you up.

Frowning, your lips parted in confusion, "thought about what?"

Lucas gave you an unamused look, as if you should've known what he was talking about. Pushing his sleeves up to his elbows, he'd raised his hands as he gestured, "you know, about what tattoo you wanted to get."

You made your way to a bubble tea outlet that Lucas wanted to check out, pestering you to go with him as part of the things he’d wanted to do during the semester break.

You couldn't help but laugh at the realisation, feeling awfully giddy at the thought of yesterday.

It was just a simple interaction, yeah, whatever, but no one said there were rules on what could make your heart flutter and what couldn't. All you knew was that whatever happened yesterday, did.

"Yeah, I did," you confessed, huffing with a smile on your face.

Lucas didn't know whether to feel afraid or happy that you were so quick to decide this time, looking at you in concern, "okay...so, what did you decide on?"

You pursed your lips, your smile disappearing, "I don't have a picture with me, it's on Jisung's ipad. But it's really pretty, it's like this drawing of a flower," you explained.

Lucas' eyes widened, his hand coming up to cover his mouth in a poor attempt to conceal his growing excitement.

"Oh, it's one of Jisung's stuff?"

You nodded, not seeming to understand why he was so happy about that, "what?"

"Nothing," he shrugged, "you and Jisung seem to be on pretty good terms recently, huh.”

You scoffed, shrugging because it wasn't as if what he said was a lie.

Lucas leaned closer to you, "have you been smiling at him more these days?"

You frowned at his question, shrugging at him nonetheless, turning your attention back to the menu board, "yeah, I guess."

Lucas' giggles escaped him like bubbles, nodding at you knowingly, “perfect. You should definitely keep doing that.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “questionable advice, but I’ll take it. Anyway, when are you planning on getting it done?"

Lucas straightened up, lifting his phone slightly to check the date.

"I made an appointment for Chan to do mine next Tuesday," he told you, “have you asked your parents yet?”

You nodded, “they weren’t as supportive until they found out Jisung designed it, they just told me not to get anything I’ll regret.”

Lucas couldn’t miss his opportunity to tease you, “well, I’m sure if Jisung’s doing it, the last thing you’d do is regret it.”

Shoving him aside and ignoring the way he’d burst into a fit of giggles, you ordered your drink, and Lucas’ as well once he calmed down enough to point at what he wanted on the menu.

“Maybe you should text him and ask about when you can book him?” Lucas gestured to you with his drink, his leg bouncing absently as he looked around the small outlet, the group of high-school girls in their uniforms sitting next to your table giggling as he’d skimmed over their table.

“Do you think that’d be too much? Should I just ask Chan instead?” You glanced at him for a sign of approval, “but then if I ask Chan would it make Jisung think I don’t want him to do my tattoo?” You wondered out loud, your stream of thought proving to be fairly amusing to Lucas.

“Just text him, it’s not that deep,” Lucas sipped on his drink.

“Nah, you know what? I should just ask him later at home, I shouldn’t bother him when he’s at work,” you shrugged, earning a sound of dismissal from him.

“Texting him would be a lot faster, you know.”

You shot him a look, “why are you so insistent on me texting him?”

Lucas scoffed, “why are you so against it?” He shot back.

Giving him a look of feigned annoyance, you’d set your phone down onto the table, staring blankly as Lucas had turned it to face him, unlocking your phone and going to Jisung’s chat.

“How should I start? ‘hey baby’—”

Your eyes widened, about to snatch the phone back from him when he’d pulled it towards himself in time, shooting you a look of feigned confusion.

“What? Too mild?” He laughed.

Sighing as he calmed down from his laughter, he shook his head slowly as he typed out a message, “man, you’re so bad at this,” he murmured.

“What makes you say that?”

Lucas pressed something on your phone with finality, scrolling up as he showed you your previous texts with Jisung. Texts like:

1:09pm - dont eat my chips get ur own - or texts like

 10:11pm - keep it down! Im trying to study -

Jisung 10:11pm -well so am I!-

“All you guys ever text each other for is to ask each other to do things, how can you expect him to like you if you’re always telling him to separate his lights and darks?”

You took the phone back from Lucas with a huff, “leave me alone. And who said anything about wanting him to like me?”

Lucas looked as though you’d just asked him an obvious question, looking almost scandalised at your denial, “really? You went from ‘oh, I don’t wanna bother Jisung at work’ and ‘oh, heehee me and Jisung ate ramen together yesterday night’ to ‘who said anything about my big fat crush on Jisung’?”

You huffed, “that’s inaccurate.”

Lucas chewed on his tapioca pearls harshly, making sure you heard the smacking sounds of his chewing to unnerve you, shaking his head at you matter-of-factly, “it’s pretty much-what’s the word, ah! Verbatim. That.”

 You rolled your eyes at him, wondering how the high-school girls sitting next to you still managed to find Lucas an absolute dreamboat despite how intentionally ridiculously he was behaving.

The truth is, Jisung wouldn’t have cared if you’d ‘bothered him during work or not’. He probably would’ve jumped at the notification of your text.

After the night before, Jisung couldn’t stop thinking about the feeling of comfort that flooded him at the thought of you. Finally getting enough inspiration to work on his song when he’d gotten home, even despite the pounding in his head and the sheer fatigue from the day that had passed.

Call him whatever you wanted, but Jisung couldn’t shake the feeling of reassurance he got with you, and it was a feeling he never thought he’d be experiencing as deeply as he did now.

From how familiar it was to hear your voice (even if it was asking him to fold the laundry), to how the smell of your perfume would awaken him on certain days, just in time for him to start his routine for the day. In small things, like how whenever he was looking for a break from work, somehow he’d find it with you.

He’d been working on his song for hours now, though he’d kept letting his gaze wander to the door in anticipation, wondering what was taking you so long to get home. He couldn’t help but wonder if you were still with Lucas, his imagination running wild with all sorts of scenarios that could have taken place to warrant you coming home so late.

Jisung brushed the thought away quickly after he found himself going to your contact on his phone, setting it down quickly as if it burned him. It was fine, you were an adult (he figured), you didn’t need him to hound you about a curfew.

Deciding to work on his lyrics for the song, he’d typed away on his laptop his ideas, his mind seeming to always gravitate to thinking of you as he read what he’d typed down.

Satisfied with the amount of work he’d gotten done for that day, Jisung had let his head lean back against the armrest of the sofa, his legs bent as he lay on his side, letting his eyes rest from all that staring at his glaringly bright computer screen.

You’d gone for a late-night movie with Lucas to end off your day, having gone home later than usual, though you didn’t mind. It wasn’t as if you had a curfew anymore.

You managed to reach your apartment as stealthily as you could, since the walls were really that thin and you didn’t want the old lady from next door to get on your back for being noisy when she was trying to sleep or whatever again.

Shoving your keys into the keyhole, you frowned when you saw that the lights in the living room were still switched on, spotting Jisung lying on the sofa with his eyes closed, his head lolling to the side as he dozed off.

Going into your room (in stealth mode, again), you’d set your things down quietly, deciding to take a shower and get ready for bed before anything else. Suddenly everything seemed to be a thousand times louder than you were used to. You were sure Jisung hadn’t been getting much quality sleep recently, so seeing him dozing off on the sofa had only made you want to ensure that his sleep continued uninterrupted.

Once you were changed into your sleepwear, you’d gone into Jisung’s room, taking a soft blanket from his cupboard and bringing it over to where he was, draping it over him till it reached his shoulders. You couldn’t help but find how peaceful he looked to be rather endearing, wishing you could do more but knowing there wasn’t much else you could do.

Jisung considered himself a good actor, because on the inside he was far from peaceful. He’d awoken at the feeling of being covered by the blanket, the back of your fingers grazing against his arm slightly.

His heart had fluttered, extremely, at the gesture, though something in him was yelling at him not to open his eyes, wanting to savour the moment for himself. It felt warm, a comfortable kind of warmth, the kind you would want to bask in for hours after being in the cold for so long. Something like a ray of sunshine.

Jisung was convinced he was going mad.

Switching on the lamp at your desk so that the living room wouldn’t be in complete darkness, you’d switched off the lights in the living room, bidding a silent goodnight to Jisung in your head before you’d gone back to your room, leaving Jisung dumbfounded.

===

“What did you say the song was called, again?” Chan had asked Jisung on Tuesday morning, looking at him with an endeared smile.

Jisung felt shy for some reason, pressing his lips together firmly as he averted his gaze from Chan, preparing his equipment as he waited for you and Lucas to arrive.

“Sunshine,” Jisung told him.

Chan huffed, his smile growing bigger, “I like that,” he hummed.

“What’s it about?” Chan asked, pulling his phone out to check for a text, “also, Lucas says they’re nearby.”

Jisung shrugged, “what’s it about?” He echoed Chan’s question, as if not knowing for himself either, something about him seeming fairly preoccupied, “it’s kind of hard to explain.”

Chan nodded in understanding, glancing at the way Jisung fiddled with the practice sketch he’d done of Y/N’s tattoo, twirling it around in his hands and anxiously glancing towards the door.

“Nervous?”

Jisung’s head shot up to look at Chan with wide eyes, “huh?…” he nodded slowly, “yeah, kind of.”

A small smile played at Chan’s lips as the boy had finished up the stencil for Lucas’ tattoo. “Is it because it’s Y/N?”

Jisung let out a nervous laugh, “yeah, duh,” he mumbled, “I mean, yeah, I’m nervous because she’s the one getting the tattoo but more like…”

Jisung shrugged, “I still don’t understand why she chose this out of all the designs I had.”

Chan raised an eyebrow, the jingling of the bells at the door followed by a loud guffaw of laughter signalling to him that the both of you had arrived.

“You should take more pride in your work,” Chan pat Jisung on the back, almost sending the boy stumbling with the sheer force behind the hit. Though Jisung couldn’t very well pay attention to the pain in his shoulder once he saw you with Lucas.

Lucas was quick to shove you towards Jisung, going over to one of the beds with Chan as they discussed the placement of the tattoo.

Jisung was almost uncharacteristically tense, leading you over to the station across from Lucas and Chan, holding the stencil up for you to see, “you’re absolutely sure you want this?”

You rolled your eyes, nodding, “yes, I’m sure.”

Jisung nodded slowly, albeit hesitantly, at you, “have you figured out where you want it?”

Lucas had perked up at that, butting into the conversation despite being across the room, “we were thinking between two places.”

Jisung hummed as he’d gone over to take the tablet containing a form for you to fill out before he got started.

You shushed Lucas quickly, accepting the tablet from Jisung with a nod of thanks, “yeah, I was thinking between here,” you gestured under your collarbone, “or here,” you gestured to your shoulder, just above your shoulder-blade.

Jisung nodded, “which do you feel more comfortable with? I think both are alright.”

“I was thinking maybe here?” You held a hand over the space under your collarbone, earning a nod from him.

“Alright,” he murmured, taking the tablet from you once you were done and quietly gesturing for you to lie down.

In your haste to get it over with, you’d almost completely forgotten about the placement of your tattoo, Jisung quirking an eyebrow at you and letting a huff of nervousness escape him.

“Sorry uh, I hope you don’t mind,” he murmured, pulling the collar of your shirt down to expose the area you’d wanted tattooed, making Lucas (who was watching intently) snicker from where he sat.

You’d felt heat creeping up to your neck, making you stretch your neck to look elsewhere, deciding to focus on the black pipes lining the ceiling, your shyness reducing your voice to a mere mumble, “yeah, sorry.”

Your nerves had built up even more with how tense Jisung was, even as he had disinfected the area and transferred what looked like a blue-ish outline of his sketch to your skin, making you almost want to writhe in your place with how nervous you were growing.

However, once you’d heard the buzzing of the tattoo gun, it was as if you were transported into your room, the familiarity of the sound making you less nervous, simply anticipating the pain that you’d associated with the tattoo to occur.

It was a wonder you hadn’t even been able to think much about the pain of the tattoo, though, because you were too busy trying to ignore Jisung’s proximity to you.

He was a stark contrast from Chan, who was making conversation with Lucas throughout the process, whereas Jisung had simply loomed over you, a tense knit to his brow and his lips pressed tightly together. Just by your expressions alone, people would have thought he was the one getting the tattoo.

This was only so because Jisung was struggling, with the smell of your perfume making him feel more awake than ever, and not to mention the pressure to make sure the tattoo turned out well that weighed heavy on him. Everything about you was so familiar, yet everything about the experience was not, and it was driving Jisung crazy with the amount of tension it was making him feel.

“Are you okay?” He asked, gauging your face for any sign that you were in too much pain.

You wanted to laugh, “This is like the fifth time you’re asking me that,” you told him.

“Can’t help it,” he told you, and you swore you saw his cheeks start to tint pink, “just wanted to make sure you were okay, you know…since it’s your first tattoo, and all.”

You nodded reassuringly, “it’s fine, just keep going.”

Jisung nodded, “I’ll be done quicker than you know it, I swear.”

You continued to distract yourself with the sight of Lucas across the room, Chan having to bring the needle back whenever Lucas couldn’t hold back his laughter.

“I’m sorry, It tickles,” you heard him tell Chan, making you have to stifle your laughter.

“Can I ask you something?” You decided that maybe talking to Jisung would help time pass faster (and less awkwardly).

“Uh-huh,” he hummed, shifting his chair slightly to get into a more comfortable position.

“How many tattoos do you have?” You asked, earning a long, reflective hum from him.

“I got a few in the time after college started, I would say about 5 or 6 now?” He shrugged, “and if you’re gonna ask me what’s their meanings…I don’t really know how to explain it, I just like the feeling they give me when I look at them.”

“I get it, it’s expression after all.”

Jisung nodded, his focus returning and making him let the conversation still. You didn’t like that, the feeling of awkwardness that returned with his silence, making you wrack your brains to find any sort of other conversation topic you could think of.

“Are you seeing anyone?” You wanted to instantly hide your face once you heard the words leave your mouth, Lucas turning to you with a wide-eyed expression.

Jisung sputtered, pulling the tattoo gun away from your skin, shaking his head at you.

“Uh, no, I’m not.” He narrowed his eyes at you, trying to regain his confidence in the situation, “why’d you wanna know?”

Now it was your turn to flush, averting your gaze, “oh, you know, just…curious, is all.”

Jisung smirked, “well, don’t go getting any ideas. I already like someone,” he told you, feeling as though he was dangling a carrot right in front of you.

Your eyebrows lifted in surprise, “really? Who?”

Jisung shrugged, “it’s a secret.”

You frowned, wanting to get back at him but not quite knowing how, deciding to go with the first thing you could think of, “well, I like someone too, you’re not special.”

Jisung hadn’t expected you to retort with that, narrowing his eyes at you, “wait, really? Is it Lucas?”

“Oh my god, no way, never.”

“Then who is it?” He met your gaze, making you stick your tongue out at him, mustering your best impersonation of him.

“It’s a secret.”

You had almost thought you were imagining things, but you noticed Jisung’s mood take a turn from there, seeming awfully pensive as he did the rest of your tattoo, the both of you having maintained a silence after your failed attempt at a proper conversation with him. He’d already begun to do the shading for your tattoo, so you figured he was really going to be done quicker than you thought.

You tried to distract yourself by glancing towards Lucas and Chan’s direction. Jisung could see you staring in their direction from the corner of his eye, wondering why your gaze kept travelling there when he was right in front of you.

“Is it Chan?” He blurted out, making your eyes go wide in shock.

Your smile grew, shaking your head, “no, definitely not.”

Jisung frowned, “who could it even be, you don’t even know that many people,” he huffed.

You sighed, trust you to fall for someone as oblivious as him.

“Do you want a clue?” You asked, earning a grunt from him.

“They’re very oblivious.”

Jisung frowned, looking as though he were contemplating, his tissue going over your tattoo slower as he thought. His mouth formed an ‘o’ shape in realisation, a gasp leaving him.

“No way, it’s not that Felix kid from your department, is it?” He looked as though he was hoping you would say no.

You fought to suppress the urge to roll your eyes, yet not realising you were smiling at him, “no, it’s not him.”

Jisung sighed, “oh, good. I know I always say I’m the best looking but he’s a lot better looking than I am, don’t tell him I said that.”

“Good?” You questioned, wondering why he seemed so relieved that all his options had turned out to be false. Jisung had realised he may have made things a little too obvious, shaking his head vigorously.

“Nothing, you’re all done, forget I said anything.”

He pushed himself away from you, his chair swivelling far back as he tried to calm the racing of his heart as you sat up and stretched, your body tired from being in the same position for so long.

“What time is it?” You asked, earning a grunt from Jisung, not knowing either.

Chan had chimed in from the other side, having been done with Lucas’ tattoo way before yours.

“It’s 4:24,” he told you. Jisung had been busy putting an adhesive bandage over your tattoo to pay attention to your reaction.

You spent 4 hours lying there and you only got like what, two conversations with Jisung? This was a new low, even for you.

 You were snapped out of your disappointment when Jisung had spoken.

“Uh… yeah keep this on for like three to four days?” He gestured to the bandage, your breath hitching as he hiked the collar of your shirt up so it wasn’t still dropping off your shoulder.

“You can still shower and everything so yeah…” he told you, reciting from memory after having been told this a thousand times by Chan.

You tried your best to pay attention, though you knew you’d probably forget by the time you were home, making him stand up mid-speech and walk over to the counter, pulling out a little brochure to hand you.

“Honestly, just read this, it has everything you need to know inside,” he told you, walking away briskly to compose himself at his station.

You’d made your payment to Chan at the counter, Jisung having pretended to be busy with cleaning up, making Chan flash you an amused smile.

“What?”

He shook his head, dimples appearing as he gave you your receipt, “You two are just too cute,” he huffed, earning a loud hum of approval from Lucas.

“Aren’t they?” The tall boy chimed in, making you scoff.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, bye,” you waved, seeing Jisung turn around to give you a wide smile before turning back around, practically collapsing onto the bed once you and Lucas were gone.

“Those were the most excruciating 4 hours of my life.”

Chan’s laughter could be heard as he made his way over to Jisung, giving him a pat on the back, “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad, was it?”

Jisung let out a loud groan, “we were like this close!” Jisung brought his hand in front of his face for emphasis as he whined to Chan, “and I couldn’t focus at all I was so scared I was gonna screw up her tattoo because I kept zoning out,” he rambled, feeling as though his knees were about to buckle.

Chan shook his head with a feigned look of sympathy, looking at Jisung as though Jisung were his son, “I’m glad you’re feeling stressed.”

Jisung scoffed, shrugging Chan’s hand off of his shoulder and glaring at his mentor with a look of disbelief, “you’re glad? Aren’t you supposed to be feeling some sympathy for me? That’s sick, I can’t believe you.”

Chan wasn’t surprised at Jisung’s dramatic reaction, simply laughing as he shrugged.

“I’m glad because if you’re stressed, you’re gonna be pushed to do something about it soon. And then I can stop hearing you stress about it and just see the both of you together, instead.”

Jisung shot Chan a dirty look, “you’re mean, old man.”

Chan scoffed, “at least I’m not stupid in love.”

===

Jisung had been keeping himself fairly busy since then, the both of you having been busy with your own plans since the semester break had started. However, the both of you had somehow managed to enjoy suppers together, bonding over a (rather unhealthy) meal of snacks or instant food whenever it was late in the night and the both of you didn’t want to go to sleep just yet.

And speaking of sleep, you’d also noticed how Jisung had started to look brighter these days, seeming to have been overcoming that period of lethargy he was previously in.

Now, the brightness was heard in the songs he hummed, in how he smiled and laughed more whenever you were together. Even in how he'd started growing more comfortable with sleeping in the dark. You weren’t sure what exactly sparked this change in him, but whatever it was, you were glad it happened, yourself seeming to be all the more enamoured with this version of Jisung that had grown on you.

You’d planned with Jisung to have a day of celebration (or a pity party) once he’d submitted his song to Chan’s music producer friend.

Since you had work that day, you’d wanted to get up early to prepare breakfast for him, but you didn’t realise how late you were until you woke up and found that he had already left.

Making your way over to the kitchen to find some food for yourself after you’d gotten ready for work, you yanked open the door for the fridge, expecting to be met with all of Jisung’s snacks and cans of drinks that still had their post-its on them.

However, as you were scanning the fridge to see if you had anything you could eat, you spotted a different coloured post-it on a bundle of juice packets, peeling the post-it off of the packaging to inspect it.

‘y/n, I heard these are great to start the morning with, try them for me?’

You couldn’t help but smile, a hand coming up to your face to attempt to slap away the heat you felt in your cheeks, pulling out a packet of juice anyway.

You were starting to think the juice did have some sort of magical properties in them, because when you got to work, you’d been on drink duty, which was your favourite to do. Well, technically, anything other than cashier duty was your favourite but who’s keeping track here?

You knew Jisung's meeting with the producer was around the afternoon, so when Chan had shown up at the café alone, you didn't question it.

Now you were really glad you weren't on cashier duty today, giving your colleague more time to talk to Chan while he ordered.

"One strawberry smoothie for Chan?" you called to get his attention, seeing him stroll over to the pick-up point with a smile on his face.

"Sorry, Jisung's not here," he teased, sighing wistfully.

You scoffed, "yeah, yeah. I know where he is.”

“How’s the tattoo healing?” He asked, making your hand go up to your shoulder unconsciously, “It’s alright, looks really pretty now that it’s all healed.”

Chan gave you a thumbs up, opening the lid of his drink as he took a sip, your curiosity getting the better of you.

“Is he meeting your friend now?"

Chan’s eyebrows raised in confusion, “who?..oh,” he nodded in realisation, “yeah, just went to meet him. Honestly, if you asked me, he didn’t seem as excited about the meeting as he was to meet you for dinner.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “don’t put ideas into my head, old man.”

Chan simply gave you a shrug, “I’m not that old, you know,” he brought his drink up to his lips to take a sip, “and they’re only ideas if you’re in denial.”

You groaned, “go, begone, leave me alone.”

Chan giggled, nodding as his hand went up in surrender, “fine, I’m going. Have a good dinner later, Y/N,” he sing-songed.

Curse Chan for putting the thought into your head, now you couldn’t stop thinking about dinner.

Your shift only ended at 5:30, so that gave you just about enough time to go get groceries while Jisung prepared the things for your hotpot at home.

Deciding you would do what you were called to do, which in this case, meant to send Jisung a text wishing him the best of luck, you did as such.

2:31pm - hey, all the best for your meeting with the producer man!!-

Jisung’s reply had come quickly,

han jisung 2:32pm - thanks :( im waiting to see him now, I didn’t know there was gonna be a whole queue -

Setting your phone aside, you’d tried not to let yourself get too anxious while you waited for him to update you, busying yourself with washing dishes and even serving tables out of your sheer boredom due to the crowd starting to disperse at this time.

You waited, and you waited, you waited until the word ‘waiting’ itself felt weird to say in your head. You should’ve known better to have expected Jisung to update you over text, only receiving a text in the evening that read

han jisung 5:23pm - hey…i just finished meeting him…see u at the apartment?-

You’d texted him back, not knowing what to make of his text.

5:23pm - is that a good hey or a bad hey? -

Jisung hadn’t answered your question, his next text coming as more of a source of confusion for you.

han jisung 5:24pm - ill tell u in person -

“What happened? Is it Jisung?” Your colleague seemed to have sensed your inner turmoil, looking at you with concern etched in her features.

“Yeah, he told me he was done meeting the producer person…but he didn’t wanna tell me how it went,” you frowned, seeing your colleague hum in confusion.

“D’you think it didn’t go well?” She asked, mirroring your expression of uncertainty.

You typed out your reply to Jisung as you shrugged, “I don’t know, I’m hoping he’s just messing with me.”

5:26pm - my shift ends in like 4 minutes… I’ll go and get the groceries before I get back -

han jisung 5:26pm - okay, ill be waiting -

“All the best, then?” Your co-worker offered, giving you a look of sympathy.

“You too, enjoy the rest of your shift,” you returned her expression, sighing as you removed your apron, grabbing your bag from the back room before you left.

You’d tried your best to be quick in getting your groceries, making sure you’d gotten everything Jisung had told you to, your footsteps quick as you briskly walked to your apartment building.

Not knowing if it was because you hadn’t eaten in hours or if it was because you were just excited, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement in you, not so much because you were excited to hear how Jisung’s meeting went but more of because you were excited that you were going to see Jisung soon.

Finally reaching your apartment, you’d pushed the door open to spot Jisung coming out from his room, a towel on his head as he rubbed at his freshly-washed hair.

“Hey,” you breathed, a hint of a smile on your face, scanning his face for an expression as he glanced at you, his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose cutely.

Jisung had a whole plan for how he was going to surprise you with the news, he wanted to wait until the food was ready and when the both of you were seated across each other in the living room, wait for you to ask him about how the meeting went so that he could pretend to be upset about it.

And just like he’d seen in the romantic movie Chan was playing in the studio the other day, he would wait till you showed concern to give you a smile and tell you the good news, already being able to imagine the smile you would give him in celebration.

But seeing how you looked, a little bit breathless from rushing, carrying groceries in your hands as you looked at him with a smile that spelled nothing but relief, Jisung couldn’t help himself.

“He offered me a job,” Jisung confessed, his grip tight on his towel as he let his hand fall limp to his side, any perfect, fool-proof plan of copying the romance movie now long gone.

Your eyes widened, setting the groceries on the counter as you cheered, “oh my god, that’s great! I’m really happy for you!” You cheered, practically running towards him before stopping yourself halfway, realising you were almost about to hug him.

Jisung noticed you stop too, tilting his head at you as his hands had already begun to raise to welcome you into a hug, hesitating once he’d seen you stop.

“Sorry,” you huffed, shoving your hands into your pockets, taking a step back to create some distance between the both of you.

Jisung smiled, shaking his head, “don’t be.” Shocking you with his confidence, he’d taken a step closer to you, his arms going around your shoulders as he pulled you towards him, his head leaning against yours gently as one of his hands went up to pet your head gently.

“You really helped me through it, believe it or not.”

Your eyes widened, trying not to get too carried away with the way his hold felt too comforting for you to pull away, thankful that he’d let go first, his hands coming up to grasp your shoulders.

“You hungry? The soup’s almost done.”

You nodded, “can I uh…take a shower first? I’ll be quick I promise.”

You didn’t wait for him to reply before you’d escaped to the bathroom, too focused on showering quickly that you’d almost forgotten about the hug. Keyword, almost.

Once you’d changed into a comfortable shirt and shorts, you’d practically jogged over to the kitchen, seeing that Jisung had already taken out the ingredients to thaw the meat and prepare the veggies.

“Wow, who are you and what have you done with Jisung?”

Jisung turned around at your voice, rolling his eyes at your statement, flicking the water from the veggies at you as you dodged, “figured I’d do something while waiting, you know, make myself useful.”

You huffed, a smile on your face as you gestured for him to continue, “well, don’t let me stop you.”

“So how did the interview go?” You asked, watching intently as he brought the platefuls of ingredients to the coffee table, stopping you when you’d moved to help him get the pot of soup.

“It’s okay, you go sit down, I’ll do it.”

You couldn’t help the impressed pout from your lips, not wanting to let on that the gesture had made your heart flutter.

Once all the food was on the table, Jisung had taken a seat next to you, the both of you starting to throw your ingredients into the soup, Jisung turning to you looking as though he’d wanted to say something.

“What was I saying before? Oh, right,” he nodded, “I didn’t expect him to be so intimidating, I nearly pissed myself when I walked into the room.”

You’d burst into laughter, Jisung laughing along with you, “I’m not even joking. Chan gave me a completely different description of what he would be like.”

You’d tried your best to calm down from your laughter quickly, seeing him take a piece of food from the pot and place it into your bowl wordlessly, choosing to ignore the gesture for the sake of your heart.

“But I’m assuming he’s not that bad? Since he offered you the job?”

Jisung let out a sigh, “yeah, thank god he did, I was a stuttering mess. Even Iwouldn’t have hired myself.”

You let out a chuckle, “you’re lucky he judged you based on the song, then,” you teased, earning a harmless glare from him.

You’d scooped some food into your mouth, looking up at him to see that he’d already had his cheeks full of food, nodding at you expectantly.

“So does this mean you’re gonna work on that producer guy’s team?” You asked, earning a nod from him as he swallowed his mouthful of food with a wince.

“Yeah, he said I could intern at his company in the holidays and if everything goes well he’ll give me a contract once I graduate.”

You let out a low whistle, “wow, imagine all the exposure you’d get there…all the different types of genres and artists you’d be exposed to,” you marvelled, Jisung finding it amusing how you seemed more excited about it than he was.

You perked up in realisation, “speaking of which…I realised you’d never let me listen to the song yet.”

Jisung flushed, shaking his head, “did I? I swear I did,” he lied, making you shove him, a smile showing on his face as you did, nodding in surrender as he grabbed his phone from the coffee table.

“What’s it called?” You asked, seeing him nudge his glasses up with his knuckle, shaking his head to flick his hair from his eyes.

“Sunshine,” he told you quickly, not wasting anymore time and playing the song.

As he started to play the song, you were surprised at the light sounding melody the song had started with, the sounds of the city that he’d put inside, the feeling that you were…at home?

“Don’t look at me when you’re listening to it, I’m shy,” he brought a hand up to cover your face, making you yelp, your hands coming up to grab his wrist, pulling it away slowly as you grew more focused on the song, recognising his voice as he sang.

It wasn’t a love song, thankfully, you realised. You realised that the song revolved around a certain feeling of calm, with themes of getting away from the busy nature of your life and taking time for yourself, something you realised you and him both kind of needed.

You listened until the song had ended, looking at him with a big smile on your face, a smile that made Jisung want to cover your face in fear that it would make his heart burst with how giddy he felt.

“I love this,” you told him, “can you send it to me?”

Jisung scoffed, “no way, how do I know you’re not gonna sell it before I can get it copyrighted?” he huffed, leaning forward and resting his elbow on the table to support his head on his palm.

“I’m really impressed, how’d you get the inspiration to do this?”

Jisung shrugged, “my own life I guess, and the people that helped me get through that weird period of creative block that I was in,” he murmured.

You nodded, “well, whoever they are, you should thank them for me.”

Jisung nodded, facing the television as he contemplated in his heart whether to do what he wanted to do, turning to you with a small smile on his face, he nodded slowly.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

Your eyes widened, not knowing what to make of his words. The song had started to repeat.

Jisung had shook his head, “I’m not just saying this because I like you or whatever—” he stopped himself with a small curse, “shit, that was not how I planned on telling you. Whatever, as I was saying…” he trailed off, his gaze landing on your tattoo, the neck of your shirt having started to slip off your shoulder slightly.

“Honestly, I really hated that drawing,” he told you, your gaze following his to look at your tattoo, looking back at him with raised eyebrows.

“This? Why? But it’s so pretty,” you insisted.

Jisung shook his head.

“It was my first design, and I wasn’t…you know, I just didn’t think it was that impressive, and all. Chan had told me to keep it in my portfolio but I was really close to just removing it.”

His gaze shifted to anywhere except your face, distracting himself by looking at the various things in the house, his gaze landing on the rainbow-coloured umbrella at the door.

Jisung sighed, shifting in his seat so he was leaning against the sofa now, his body angled towards you, making you unconsciously shift your body to face him as well, your breath hitching in anticipation for what he was about to say next.

“But then, you said you wanted it tattooed, and I honestly didn’t want you to get it but I had no choice, you know, blah blah customer’s preference first and all that bullshit,” he waved his hand for emphasis, “but then after I saw you with the tattoo more, I guess my perspective started to change? I mean, like, you kept insisting that it was so beautiful and all that..you know, seeing you with it kind of started to grow on me.”

Jisung paused, his gaze on a corner of the coffee table as he tried to find the right words to express how he was feeling, shrugging at you and just deciding to say whatever was at the top of his head and work from there.

“I guess it kind of made me love my work more, and like, trust myself, you know… because I realised how beautiful it could be.”

You looked at him wordlessly, your heart picking up speed at the tension in the room, something in you urging you to stand up, making you get up on your feet with no aim in mind.

So as not to look like a complete fool, your hands flew up to hug your arms, “oh, it’s a little um, chilly. Be right back,” you sprinted to your room, reaching in your cupboard for your hoodie and putting it on without a second thought, too preoccupied to notice how it stopped at your thighs and how the sleeves bunched up more.

Returning to the coffee table, you’d almost regretted your decision to put on the hoodie, feeling utterly warm from how flustered you were, especially with the way Jisung was looking at you with a hint of a smirk playing at his lips.

“Sorry,” you murmured, averting your gaze as you tilted your head down, not expecting Jisung to tilt his head down as well so he could search for your gaze, making you scrunch your eyes shut, wrinkling your nose as you let out a huff of laughter.

“You can reject me, you know. I remember you said you already liked someone,” he told you, and Jisung meant it, not wanting anything but to make sure you were okay, and happy.

You shook your head, “I don’t want to,” you murmured, finally daring yourself to meet his gaze, your heart skipping a beat when you saw the way Jisung had smiled.

“I can’t say I’m not happy to hear that,” he told you.

Jisung had brought his hand up, lazily removing his glasses and looking at you finally, since now the other things in the house weren’t as clear in his vision, all that was important being that you were right in front of him, and he could see you clearer than anything.

“Why’d you take your glasses off?” You murmured, seeing him shrug, giving you a lazy smile.

“What? You scared I didn’t wanna see your face?” He teased, the flush on your cheeks making him give in almost immediately, “I’m kidding. I just didn’t feel like being distracted anymore.”

Maybe it was the atmosphere of the living room, or the lingering feelings the song had left in you, maybe it was even the way you felt like you were finally getting what you were waiting for.

Whatever it was, there was an overwhelming feeling of giddiness in you, especially with the way Jisung’s gaze had flickered between your lips and your gaze, and yet he’d made no move to lean closer to you, as if he was expecting you to move first.

Leaning closer, you’d let yourself glance down, getting distracted by the stain of black ink on the sleeve of your hoodie, only realising then that it wasn’t your hoodie.

“Shit, sorry I’m wearing yours by mistake again, it must’ve gotten mixed up,” you murmured, knowing it wasn’t your week to do laundry duty.

Jisung stopped you before you could stand up, pulling your hand forward so the only thing stopping you from losing your balance was his grip on your arm.

“I never thought I’d be saying this but, you can wear it.”

You’d sworn if your heart were any weaker, you wouldn’t have been able to last this long, Jisung seeming almost teasing with the way he’d inched closer at a painfully slow pace, so his lips were barely touching yours.

Just before he could pull back, you’d groaned in frustration, bringing your free hand up to cup the side of his jaw, meeting your lips with his.

And there it was again, the feeling of relief that washed over, knowing that this was very much happening, and that you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

Jisung pulled away first, his pupils blown and his eyes giving away his surprise, huffing at you and folding his arms, increasing the distance between you.

“I’m only realising this now, what do you mean I’m oblivious?”

You rolled your eyes, “I’ll explain it again later, I swear.”

Jisung huffed, more dramatic this time, making sure you sensed his sulkiness (as feigned as it was), looking at you with a pout on his lips, “give me a kiss and I’ll forgive you.”

He puckered his lips, making you roll your eyes, though you didn’t hesitate to cup his face again, pressing your lips against his as your thumb brushed over his cheek gently, pulling away before he would’ve wanted. You couldn’t help yourself from laughing at the way he’d leaned forward, chasing your lips, frowning at you with a soft sigh when you’d straightened up.

“Can we eat now? The meat’s getting overcooked.”

===

lucas 11:30pm - dude I told u it would work if you smiled at him more cant believe u didnt believe me smh -

1K notes · View notes

johnkrrasinski · 4 years

Text

So It Goes...

full masterlist

Pairings: Rock star/Bassist!Bucky Barnes x female!reader (AU)

Word count: 7,149

Warning: fluff, SMUT! but mostly just me falling in love with bucky, really.

Summary: natasha romanoff aka your annoying roommate coerced you into the howling commando’s live performance at a divebar near your dorm. little did you know, it was going to lead you to the man of your dreams aka the charming rock star boy/bassist, james buchanan barnes.

a/n: this one’s written for @sourpatchkidsandacokecan‘s “Little Darlin’s Mysteru AU” challenge. i chose band/rockstar au. here’s another love letter to bucky barnes because i love that man with my entire heart and every fic that i write about him is basically just me expressing my deep affection for this man. hope you guys enjoy this one cause i certainly do! also, rock star/boy band bucky is such a concept omg i’m in love

You laid in your twin-sized bed as you heard the chirping sounds of the birds outside of your window. They were singing cheerily as if they knew what you were feeling and they were celebrating with you. It felt like you were in a Disney movie that you used to obsess over as a kid, where you are the lovestruck princess because you just met a handsome prince who swept you off your feet at first sight.

The birds outside of your window are your animal pals who swoon over you swooning and they spontaneously harmonize and dance to this newfound joy. You couldn’t resist the smile taking over your face. It was too early for you to be awake on a Saturday morning. You were always up by 10 AM. No more, no less. But it was currently 8.45 AM and you still had at least one more hour to get up and be productive.

But not today. Today, you were going to welcome this exhilarating sensation in your bones, and you were going to savour every second of it. Because you couldn’t shake away those baby blue eyes and that suave, boyish charm. The way, they electrified you by first glance and made you tremble when those pupils dilated. You could still feel the way his soft, plump lips hypnotized you last night. And the raunchy way he held you at the bar.

Even when all was said and done, he found a way to haunt you in your dreams.

And you didn’t mind one bit.

You were currently in the middle of a crisis due to your upcoming final week. If there’s any word to describe you as a college student, it would be ambitious. The idea of failing or getting less than B+ makes you go ballistic. You were an active student. You joined multiple organizations that expanded your social life. You got along with mostly everyone in your classes and you had your professors’ respect too for your excellent grades and polite manners.

But your lack of dating life irked no one else more than your roommate, Natasha. You loved Natasha with your entire heart, really. She was like a sister to you. You were an only child so you cherished her older sister role in your life. She was, in fact, several months older than you and she always protected you like her own. Starting from the asshole that broke your heart in high school, despite only knowing him through your story, to incessantly pushing you to stop being such a nerd and have more fun.

Natasha was the kind of woman you don’t wanna mess with. She was loyal, brave and quick-witted. She knows how to keep her GPA high, whilst also maintaining a fun social life. She managed to do it all so effortlessly.

“C’mon, y/n! Just one night! You need to let loose and release all tension on your shoulders, baby. It’s good for your brain before finals start!”

“Noooo, Nat. Rock bands are not my thing and I’d have a higher chance of acing the tests if I study now, okay? Just go. Have fun without me and tell me how it goes.”

“But my boyfriend’s performing, y/n. And I want you to meet him! I promise they are really good. Even if you're not into the music, you can still go for the drinks, right? Also, they’ve got other cute members available so, you might find your own rock band boyfriend too if you go.” She winked. Her smirk was menacing.

“Ugh, I’m not interested in finding a boyfriend, Nat.”

“I know, but wouldn’t hurt if you do, right? Then we can go on double dates and have them write songs about us. Oh God, it’s going to be awesome.”

“Whoa, slow down. I haven’t even learned their names, yet and we are already discussing double dates?”

“Alright, let’s just start with putting on your sexy clothes and meet them yourself. Then we can move onto picking one gorgeous beast for you.”

“What makes you even think that they’d be interested in me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, y/n. Have you never owned a mirror? You are a total babe. You just need to get yourself more action.”

“Ugh, I don’t know, Nat…”

“You are going. And I’m not leaving until you get up and put on something cool. I have patience, baby and I’m going to annoy you all night if you stay. What do you prefer? Going out and have fun and meet some cute boys or me annoying you all night so you can’t study productively.” She glared at you. Her tone indicated that there was no compromise.

“Alright, I’m going. But that’s only because I wanna meet your boyfriend, alright? Not because I wanna find a boyfriend or whatever stupid shit you’re thinking.”

“Yay!” She jumped in excitement. Her face was content with joy and satisfaction from succeeding in persuading you. “Alright, let’s dig through your clothes.” She started rummaging your shared closet and observed meticulously each one of your outfits. “Hmm… Let’s try this one!” She picked up a strapless black sequin dress that you hadn’t worn in forever. You didn’t even remember packing it up in your baggage and brought it with you to your dorm.

You began stripping yourself out of your oversized hoodie and high-waisted shorts. You didn’t feel embarrassed changing in front of Natasha, you had seen each other naked many times. You were roommates after all and sometimes, you just had to be comfortable with the fact that you had private body parts underneath and within the course of four years, eventually, you had to get used to flashing one another at some point.

You put it on as you started to feel a little uncomfortable. You weren’t used to wearing skimpy dresses. Already wearing it for less than three minutes, you were constantly lifting the hem of the dress to prevent it from exposing your boobs and revealing your inner thighs. And the material felt itchy on your skin too. “Nat, I’m not sure about this. Let’s just wear a leather jacket and jeans.”

“Nonsense! You look bomb! Give your leather jacket and jeans a break, alright? Okay, turn around so I can see your behind.”

You twirled as she said, restlessly.

Tonight was going to be a longspun night…

The air felt crisp against your skin, as the breeze swept through your freshly curled hair, causing a few strands shading your sight. You struggled to walk steadily in your 7-inch heels that belonged to Natasha because you didn’t have a pair of your own. You were cool with wearing ankle boots pairing them with a sparkly dress. But Natasha didn’t think it was a cute look.

“What? Boots and dresses don’t go along, honey. Oh my, you need a serious makeover!” She was derailed.

You eventually settled with a silk red dress with a seductively low cleavage on the front, exposing the globes of your breasts. You were already as uncomfortable as it is, this dress didn’t make it any easier to act normal.

So you had to endure walking in these deadly shoes of torture, whilst clad in nothing but a scanty material with makeup painting your entire face. Great. What had you gotten yourself into? Damn you, Natasha.

You and Nat were walking arm in arm to the bar where “The Howling Commandos” were performing. That’s the name of the band that Natasha’s boyfriend was in. They have been a group for 5 years now, they had been doing this since they were in high school. Clint and the rest of the members were several years older than you and Nat. As soon as they graduated, they decided that they wanted to keep making music rather than working mundane, dead-end jobs.

Yep, Natasha told you that much.

Clint and Nat had been dating for two years now. They rarely saw each other due to the band’s packed schedule. Although, they would FaceTime each other every night, talking about each other’s days. You heard it all, from their most disgustingly adorable flirtations, to the most inappropriate, not so PG-13 confession.

They would literally pretend to smooch one another through the screen when you were doing your homework or when you had your nose deep in a book. You’d try to cover your ears by putting on your earbuds and turning up the volume so you could give them privacy but also, you didn’t wanna hear them talking about what they wanted to do to each other if both of them were here.

You knew Clint well enough to not feel like you were meeting a complete stranger. Natasha would often tell you to say hi to him and she had told you a lot of wonderful things to Clint. Clint would often talk about the band too on the phone, how someone called “Bucky” would piss him off by stealing his leftover sandwich. Or someone called “Sam” would often interrupt their chat by reminding him that it was soundcheck time.

“I gotta go, babe. Sammy’s not gonna stop yelling.”

“Aw, okay, tell the boys I say hi! Love you.”

“Love you too, baby.”

It’s like a daily podcast for you every night.

The dive bar where The Howling Commandos were performing thankfully wasn’t that far from your dorm. Natasha was super thrilled when Clint told them that they were going to perform here. They were finally able to see each other after a while, and because this was going to be their last gig until they come back with a new album, he said he was going to stay and spend some time with Nat.

You were happy for both of them. You’d never say it out loud but, a part of you was secretly jealous of their love. They managed to maintain such a fun, loving, and healthy relationship despite the distance and differences. Natasha once told you that she was never one to settle with a man for too long but, Clint changed the game for her. You smiled at the thought. They were genuinely in love. If you were to find yourself a boyfriend, you wanted the type of love that they had.

But not tonight. You were okay with being single. Just because a part of you wanted what Clint & Nat had, doesn’t mean that you actually need it or you’d die. You were too much of a goal-oriented person to be chasing over something that should come naturally. You had grown so comfortable in being alone, that you stopped desiring love so much. It wasn’t getting you anywhere. So you lived your life, being grateful for your friends and family. You invested your time in your education and passion. You were content.

When you arrived at the bar, the room was full with a crowd. You walked in with Natasha trying to make a space for yourself so you could walk through them. You could barely anything else due to the number of bodies blocking your view. Natasha held your hand as she took the lead and fought through the crowd to get to the front, where she could get the best view.

There was a blonde-haired woman standing on the front, so close to where the band were going to play. When Natasha slightly grazed her whilst trying to stand next to her, she didn’t look the slightest bit happy. She glared at Natasha as Natasha noticed. She glared back at her.

“Excuse me, there’s more space in the back, maybe you can stand there instead of cutting through the line.”

“Excuse you, miss. I’m dating the band’s drummer, so I can stand wherever I want, thank you very much. If you don’t like that, then the exit is right there.” She pointed to the door of where we walked in from.

The blonde woman rolled her eyes as she folded her arms against her chest. After you stared at her reaction, you realized that you actually know her. She was in the same social science class with you. You had never really talked to her because she often sat in the back and immediately left after the class was done, but you remembered her name. Her name was Dottie Underwood. Your classmates called her Dot. The ones that she liked anyway.

You decided to stay quiet and let it pass. It’s not like she even recognized you even if you start a chat with her. You don’t think it was a good idea either since she and Nat literally just snarked at each other. You directed your sight to the stage and waited for the famous Howling Commandos to appear.

One of the spotlights turned and highlighted a man walking on stage before he talked into the microphone at the centre. “And now, ladies and gentlemen, a group of brilliant lads, that make all the ladies go feral wherever they go, and their showstopping music are going to make us sing and jump tonight. Please welcome, The Howling Commandos!”

The crowd roared with cheers, the sounds of their enthusiasm filled the atmosphere. Their claps were jovially in sync as four, drop-dead gorgeous young men stepped into the stage as their presence shifted the energy in the room.

The first one was a blonde-haired with breathtaking bone structure, forming a ridiculously handsome face. His hair shone under the spotlight like the sun amidst the clear sky. He had an amiable demeanour about him. His smile was gentle and welcoming. He waved to the crowd and stood directly behind the microphone.

The second one to walk in was a dark-skinned man with an undeniable charisma oozing out of him. He had a neatly trimmed beard that only added to his spicy appeal. His smile was radiant as he also waved the crowd. He stood on the left side of the stage, a couple of steps behind Steve who was apparently the lead singer.

The third one to walk in was Clint. He was everything Nat described him to be. Placid and nonchalant. His smile was amenable as he greeted the crowd. He walked directly to the background, where the drumset was placed. He sat down on the drummer’s chair as he picked up the sticks he was going to play with.

The last one to enter was a literal Disney prince coming to life. His prominent boyish charm completely bedazzled you. His blue eyes gleamed under the spotlight as they lingered on you for a second. He immediately shifted his gaze as he kept walking towards the right side of the stage, but you swore that when he caught you staring dumbfoundedly at him, you could see the flash of a quick smirk on his face.

He only nodded to the crowd as he confidently picked up the bass guitar that was previously placed on the floor and put on the leather straps around his neck. His eyes turned back to you as you found yourself still bluntly staring at him. Something about him just enchanted you. He had that boy-next-door charm about him but also, a bad boy persona that was irresistibly enticing.

That flash of smirk that you saw earlier resurfaced and it was getting harder for you to pay attention to anyone or anything else in the room other than him. His gaze grew more intense as the noises of the crowd faded into the background. You were lost in this lethal game of eye contact until Natasha accidentally elbowed you by screaming her lungs out to respond to the lead singer’s introduction.

“Good evening, SHIELD’s Nest! How are we feeling tonight?” The lead singer vivified the crowd. They responded with a reassuring reaction. “I’m Steve Rogers and these are my buddies,” he turned his head to the left, as he started introducing the other band members. “The handsome guy right there is Sam, and in the back, there’s Clint, our brilliant drummer boy and this ladies’ charmer right here is Bucky.” As he pointed to the magnetic man who had held your attention hostage since he first walked in.

“And we are The Howling Commandos.” He paused for a second before carrying on with his prelude. “Alright, so the first song that we’re going to play tonight is called ‘Rusted Love’. Enjoy.” Steve removed his mouth from behind the microphone and started cueing the band to play. “1,2…”

Sam and Bucky started strumming the first few notes as a few people cheered. Then Clint jumped in, flaunting his talent in mastering the drum with his sticks. The energy in the room felt more energized as people started moving a part of their bodies. Then Steve amazed the room with his sultry voice, singing the words that echoed through the Sound system of the bar.

“I’m a flying kite in a hurricane, you paralyzed me with your touch and your lips got me addicted…” Steve shut his eyes, relishing the rune. You had a feeling that those lyrics wouldn’t just stay lyrics tonight…

They played another four songs that night. The crowd danced, jumped and screamed the words to their song passionately. You, on the other hand, was probably the most tranquil person in the crowd. You didn’t really know much about the band, let alone their music. So when everyone was constantly pushing you because they were too lost in the moment, you eventually tried to get out of the crowd and sat on the bar instead. Natasha was also too lost in supporting her boyfriend, that she almost didn’t notice you leaving.

Through the vibration of the crowd and the music, you had to really lean in to get Natasha’s attention and to get her to hear you. “Nat! I’m gonna sit in the back and wait there. I’m a little thirsty.” She had a giant smile on her face due to the zest the band inflicted. “Okay!” She yelled back, then carried on with her foxy moves.

You struggled to walk through the crowd, trying to not step on anyone’s feet as you made your way to the barstool. What you didn’t notice was, Bucky’s disappointed on his face when he saw you walking out on him. He noticed that you weren’t exactly as thrilled as anyone else. Although, he noticed your stolen glances as you shied away from him when he stared back. He even tried to wink at you once but you immediately looked to the floor, hiding away your blush. He swore he saw the way your cheeks reddened. Not that he wasn’t used to getting that reaction anyway…

You exhaled a breath of relief as you finally broke out of the congested mass of people. You sat on the barstool as you ordered a glass of rum and you waited as the music still reverberated robustly in your ears. You sat there as you started looking through your Instagram. Nat’s icon was the first one to appear in the row and you clicked it to see what you were expecting. She recorded a video of the band, then zoomed in to Clint, as he was ardently drumming the beat.

She put on a heart eyes and fire emoji with the text; “that’s my man!”. The next one was her and you singing along to the second song they played that night. You were able to actually mouth the words after they played the last chorus and you were a quick learner, so you memorized the repeated words easily after the third time. You scrolled through your feed a few more minutes until your order finally arrived.

“Enjoy, miss.” The waiter winked at you. He was probably in his mid-20s, he had warm brown eyes and a sweet smile. His dark hair was slicked back as you stared a little longer than you should. He was obviously attractive, but, you didn’t say anything back to him. You just smiled back in a friendly manner and uttered silenced thanks.

After sitting by yourself for about a half and an hour, like all good things, the show must come to an end. Steve Rogers concluded the show with a final thank you and goodnight as the spotlight shut down, like the drapes closing over a theatrical show. The crowd clapped and some of them started leaving, while others immediately went to the bar to quench the thirst from screaming along to volatile rock music and jumping up and down, getting lost in the tune.

Natasha patted your back as she jumped on the empty chair next to you. Thank God, she was quick on her feet, otherwise, she wouldn’t have been able to get a seat. “Hey! God, I need a full shot of whiskey right now.”

“Yeah, go crazy.”

She scoffed. “Huh. As if that wasn’t crazy enough, back there.” She signalled the bartender to make an order. “So, what do you think? That was fun, right?” The cute bartender from earlier walked to her as he asked her what would she like to drink and she quickly replied.

“Yeah, they’re pretty good.”

“Pretty good? They’re damn talented. Especially the drummer back there. He totally killed it.”

“Yeah, okay, they are amazing. But you know their music isn’t my kind of music, so can’t say I really enjoyed it that much.”

“Okay, but you must’ve at least enjoyed the view, right? Don’t think I didn’t catch you and bass boy making several eye contacts back there.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You took another sip of your glass to cover your embarrassment.

“Oh my God, you totally do! Look at you blushing!”

“I’m not!”

“Yes, you are! Admit it! You like Bucky, don’t you?” She playfully pushed you to tease you.

“Oh my God, shut up Nat! You’re causing a scene!” You tried to lower yourself, now that you’re able to speak in a normal volume.

“Nope, I won’t stop until you admit it. Don’t worry, y/n, Bucky’s always been a charmer, so I totally get your attraction.”

That caused a peculiar sickness in your chest. It’s not like you were falling in love with Bucky, no. You didn’t even know him enough to like him. He may be an eye-candy but if he’s really as “charming” as everyone is saying, then that means, he’s one of those dangerous fuckboys that you should avoid at all cost. Because that means, he’s probably only going to manipulate you into thinking that he really cares for you, when in reality, he only wanted to get in your pants. Nope, not gonna happen to you. You weren’t going to be a new notch in his belt.

“Well, then that means he is bad news and that gives me even more reason to feel anything but attraction toward him.”

“Oh, no, y/n, I don’t mean it like that. He’s really sweet, and he’s always been the most chill one in the group. Trust me, you’re gonna love him. Just, give him a chance first, alright? I’ve known him long enough to know that he’s into you.”

“Into me? Nat, he doesn’t even know my name.”

“He will.” She winked again, as she took a sip of her whiskey.

Not long after that, Clint appeared from behind, without Nat realizing. He surprised her by wrapping her waist from behind as he whispered into her ears; “how’s my best girl?” Nat was slightly stunned but as soon as she realized it was her boyfriend, her expression instantly turned into a joyful one. “Hi, baby!” They immediately smooched as she wrapped her arms around his neck while standing face to face now.

“Did you like the show?”

“I loved the show, you guys killed it as always. Oh, and by the way, this is y/n, my number one bestie and the best roommate anyone could ever ask for. Now you finally meet her in person!” Her excitement was genuine.

“Hi, y/n! Heard so many great things about you, but you probably can’t say the same, huh?”

“No, actually I can. Nat wouldn’t stop talking about you every night even when I’m blatantly ignoring her.” You joked.

“Well, is that right?” He looked at Nat to assess the truth on her face.

“Yep,” you carried on. “She would say you’re hot, funny and kind, and all these wonderful things. Including the ones that I’m not supposed to hear.”

They laughed. They kissed once more, as Clint stood next to her seat, ordering a drink for himself. Next to you, you could hear Nat saying, “oh, where are the boys? Are they not thirsty?”

“They’re just packing up, babe, they’re gonna join us in a few.”

“Good, ‘cause I think there’s someone y/n would like to meet.” She teasingly wiggled her eyebrows at you, as you sent her a murderous glare. Your lips silently mouthed, “what the fuck?” but Clint picked up her tone and he quickly got the message.

“Oooh, who is it? Is it Steve, Bucky, Sam? Just let me know which one you like and I’ll deliver them at your door tonight, y/n. They’re all single and ready to mingle anytime now.”

You laughed nervously. “No, no, no, no. Nat’s just saying shit.”

She turned her head to her boyfriend and shook it. “No, I’m not. She and Bucky practically eye fucked on stage.”

You instantly slapped her arm, staring deadly into her eyes. “Ouch!” She put her hand on the spot that you struck, even though it wasn’t even that hard. Classic Nat. Dramatic as always. “Nat, you can’t just–”

Before you even managed to finish your sentence, she darted her eyes to somewhere behind you as she pointed at whatever got her distracted. “Oh, here they are!” She smirked. She raised her eyebrows at you before she stood on her feet and hugged the anticipated men.

“Hey, guys! Killer show back there!” Nat started hugging Sam and he kissed her cheek, and then she moved onto Steve and the last one to join was Bucky. You muttered ‘shit’ to yourself as you pondered on how you should act. Should you act like nothing ever happened during the show between you two? Or were you going to address the elephant in the room, and just straight up flirt with him, now that he wasn’t being so closely watched anymore?

You didn’t know which would be the best option so you just took a big gulp and drank down the entire glass of Rum you had left. Maybe if you were less sober, you wouldn't excessively overthink. You weren’t even sure whether he was really staring at you or not. For all you knew, he could be staring at another beautiful girl in the crowd that was standing beside or behind you. And if you act impulsively now, this would be like that cheesy moment on Rom-Coms, where a girl waved back to the guy who she thought was waving at her but it turns out, he was actually waving at another girl who was coming from the same direction as her.

Nope, you weren’t going to be that girl.

So you just smiled and nodded along as Natasha introduced you to the rest of the boys. You didn’t want to be rude so you sat on your chair, facing them with an interested look, even though all you wanted to do was just shrink and leave this goddamn place.

“Hey guys, here’s my bomb-ass bestie slash roomie. Her name’s y/n! Isn’t she stunning?”

When Steve was about to offer his hand to you, Sam immediately inserted himself in front of you and Steve. “Well, hello, good-lookin’. Can I buy you a drink?” Sam, being the cool dude he was, he leaned back against the bar counter on his elbows as he shamelessly flirted with you.

“Nope, thank you. I just had one.”

“Oh, you look like you could use another one. Here, let me get that for you.” He cued the bartender to make an order and you instantly tried to stop him, telling him that it wasn't necessary, but it looks like the bartender was already taking his order for you.

And then, out of nowhere, Bucky suddenly stooped in like a hero. “Hey, Sam, why don’t you back off? This one’s mine, alright?” That elicited a questioning look out of you. “Mine?” He didn’t even know you.

“Oh wait, so this is the one you told us about in the dressing room?” What the hell? You thought. They were talking about you as if you weren’t there at all.

“Yep, so why don’t you fuck off and get out of here before I get myself drunk enough to shit on your bed?” His tone was menacing but you could tell that this was a normal, daily conversation between the two.

“Jeez, alright. I’mma leave. You don’t need to wave your dick all over my face.” Before Sam moved to another spot, he patted you on the back and said, “good luck.”

What? What the hell was that for? The bartender came in with your order and served another glass of Rum right in front of you.

“You don’t need to drink that if you don’t want to.” He carefully spoke to you, as if he was trying to not scare you away.

“No, I think I need to. Tonight’s been a pretty crazy night.” You took a sip, the cold drink felt nice on your tongue.

He chuckled. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

“Oh, how crazy can it be for you? Isn’t this like, what you do, every night?”

“Yeah, but, you never really get used to it, you know? Sometimes you just wanna sit in the bar and have a nice talk with a pretty gal and hide in the booth or something.”

That… Warmed up your heart. Damn, if this is his way of flirting, it was truly working. You could see now why everyone was calling him ‘a charmer.’ He really had a way with words. And stares. His baby blues really know how to captivate you and froze you on spot.

“I’m Bucky, by the way.” He offered his hand to shake yours.

“I’m y/n.” You shook it with a smile.

“Did you like the show?” He asked.

“Gotta be honest with you, buddy, your music isn’t exactly my kind of music. But you guys were awesome.”

He paused for a moment as if he was contemplating what he was going to say next. “Think I got a little distracted up there.”

“Oh yeah? Why is that?”

“Cause there was this pretty lady in a red dress that I couldn’t take my eyes off of.” His gaze even grew more intense now. He was looking at you like you were the only thing in the room. Then his eyes darted to your lips, as he licked his. And before you knew it, he started inching his face closer to yours as he held his gaze on your plump, painted lips, while you could feel his breath more and more as the seconds went by.

And then… His lips were on yours. It’s like the clock just stopped ticking and every noise faded into the background and you were the only two people in the room. His lips felt soft against yours, and the way he licked your bottom lip made your head spin. You ajarred your mouth to let his tongue enter as it got tangled with yours.

You were aware that Nat, Clint and Steve who were having a conversation are now watching you like hawks, but you couldn’t care less. Not when Bucky’s hands grabbed your face, so he could have more control over your mouth. You were practically out of breath by the time he looked into your eyes, that are now slightly darker than a few seconds ago. He loved the sight of you, with your lips slightly swollen.

“Let’s go somewhere more secluded.” You could only nod and then took his hand after he offered you his as you got off the stool. He led the way and you couldn’t help but notice the glances that were thrown by several women along the way. They were staring at him with incontrovertible full of hunger eyes, one even shamelessly put her hand on his shoulder, as she coquettishly smiled at him. Bucky only smiled back and nodded at her but he kept walking with you in his hand.

Even if you were practically a pair, you felt invisible. Everyone’s eyes were on you, but not precisely on you. This must’ve been something normal to him, you thought. You weren’t used to big crowds and inundated with attention, and you weren’t used with unquestionably holding a stranger’s hand and letting him take you wherever he had in mind. But you did anyway, and you weren’t having second thoughts.

Bucky led you to the cramped lavatory and locked the door. The lack of space made it even harder for you to breathe when Bucky was this close to you. He pressed his body to yours, as he kissed you once more. Slowly, but you felt the spell in your bones. “All I could think about on stage was tasting those luscious lips.”

You were spellbound by his magic. You could barely speak another word when his baby blue eyes were looking at you so intensely like that. But you gathered every cell in your body to utter the words anyway, “do it again, then.” You boldly challenged him.

He grinned a Cheshire cat smile. He grabbed your face again and eagerly consume you with his mouth. He then moved his hands to the back of your thighs to elevate you onto the sink. He put his hand on your thigh and the other hand went to the back of your head as he grabbed a fistful of your hair, while still kissing you even deeper.

He pulled away to stare at your distraught state and asked the question, “can I touch you?”

You licked your lips, as you nodded. “Please.” His mouth was on yours again, as the hand that was on your thigh moved to the bottom your dress, delicately inserted his fingers to feel you against your red lace panties. You could feel yourself growing wetter and wetter as he motions his fingers in circle harder.

Your breath quickened. Your mind was getting hazy as the second passes by. The right strep of your dress had fallen off of your shoulder, and Bucky utilized that opportunity to pull down the other strap and he began groping your breast, tenderly pinching your nipple. That elicited a petite yelp out of you. He groped your breast once more as he was still toying with your nipple.

He began kissing your neck, shortly finding your sensitive spot as you threw your head back. You shuddered. Your hands grabbed his hair, wanting to feel him closer. “Bu- Bucky… Please. I need to feel you.”

You didn’t wait for his response and immediately lifted up his shirt. You were stunned by the sight under the dimmed light of the bathroom. Clothes really didn’t do this man any justice. He should never be allowed to wear any coverups, ever again now that you had seen him. He was sculpted by the Gods themselves. His biceps felt robust in your dainty hands and the V-shaped line on his hips led to somewhere you really wanted to wrap your lips around.

Your hands quickly zipped down his jeans and his boxer along with it, and you didn’t hesitate in feeling his throbbing member right there, right then. It felt tremendous in your trembling hands, and you felt it getting harder with every stoke of your palm.

“Oh, fuck, doll, don’t stop.” His voice was raspy in your ears. It was the sexiest goddamn sound you had ever heard.

“Yeah, just like that. Go faster, doll.” He sucked your earlobe and his hand fisted your hair, making a mess out of it. You didn’t mind one bit. You wanted to be a mess for him and only for him. You somehow still managed to pamper him with all the senses you had left, even if your mind was clouded with every part of him.

“Bucky, put it in me. Please.” You begged with a quavering voice.

“Your wish is my command, doll.” In a second, he pushed into you and it sent an electrifying jolt all over your nerves. You threw your head back in mingled pain and pleasure. He felt even more full now that he was fully seated inside you. He lifted you from the sink and pushed you to the wall on the opposite.

You circled your arms around his neck as your back was slammed against the concrete. Then Bucky began thrusting vigorously. You shut your eyes and moaned his name. Bucky, on the other hand, didn’t. He kept his eyes wide open to watch you with full attention. He loved seeing the way you were drunk in him. The way you forgot your name more and more every time he slammed back into you.

He loved the squelching noises ringing in his ears, better than the melody he was used to creating in the studio. The sound of your heartbeat was far more gratifying than the way Clint played his drum. Oh, how he could write an entire album solely about you in this state alone.

“You feel so good around me, doll. So. Fucking. Tight.” Your moans became louder with his filthy words in your ears.

“I’m gonna make you mine.” This time, his voice was sultry. It was rather beguiling than mortifying.

His hips kept moving and out of you with a vehement tempo, and then just like that, you crumbled. You screamed your pleasure, not caring if anyone could hear you. Bucky was still moving, trying to reach his own climax. Shortly, he was with you. He unleashed his cum deep inside you, adding the mess that was dripping all over your thighs.

You were a beautiful mess. And Bucky loved it.

After a few minutes, coming down from your high, you breathed into Bucky’s neck, not wanting for it to be over yet. You were a little scared that Bucky was going to walk out and pretend nothing ever happened between you. You didn’t know how many bathroom stalls Bucky had brought different women to and fucked them silly right there. You had a lot do unravel about him, yet, you weren’t certain whether he wanted to let you in or not.

“You okay?” Bucky whispered into your ear. You only nodded, still a little hazy from ecstasy.

“I’m gonna put you down now, yeah?”

“Okay.” He slowly set you on your feet, as he was still staring at your face. You leaned against the wall, trying not to collapse. Bucky picked up his shirt and put it back on along with his jeans and boxer.

“Let’s get out of here.” Bucky offered you his hand, like the gentleman that he was as if he hadn't just fucked you into oblivion in a public restroom.

You took his hand with a smile. You didn’t know what was going to happen after you walk out of the door, but you were going to savour every second of being in his arm if this was going to be last time you’ll ever see him.

You went home with a contented smile on your face. You were like a teenage girl who had just been asked to prom by her crush. How could you not, when Bucky offered to walk you home and left a kiss on your cheek before he called it a night?

Natasha was going to stay at Clint’s hotel, so you were supposed to walk home alone. You knew eventually this was going to happen but Natasha and Clint used it as a reason so Bucky and you would spend the night together too. You didn’t mind one bit, though. You wanted to elongate your time with Bucky and your wish was granted.

You offered him to come inside and stay for a little while, you were secretly hoping that you could go for the second round, but Bucky only chuckled and shook his head.

“Not tonight, doll. I ain’t that kinda man. And you need rest. But I’ll call you tomorrow, yeah?” Then you and Bucky exchanged your numbers and he waited until you were really gone from his sight.

You walked up to your dorm with butterflies in your stomach and sparks fly all trailing over your footsteps. Thank God, Natasha wasn’t here. If she were, she would’ve relentlessly teased you all night and made you admit that she was right to coerce you to come.

And you would’ve had to admit that she was right. And you didn’t like admitting that you were wrong.

But tonight, you were going to admit it to yourself though. Sometimes, doing something that frightens you the most would endue you in ways you couldn’t possibly imagine.

And you were going to thank your lucky stars tonight for embedding Natasha Romanoff in your life because, without her, you would’ve stayed in your shell and Bucky could’ve fucked someone else in that restroom instead of you.

That might’ve happened in another universe, but not tonight. Tonight it was you and you were really hoping that you were going to see him again in your dreams tonight. You had one taste of him and it wasn’t enough.

Bucky texted you not long after you took a shower.

“Dreaming of me, yet?” Wink emoji.

“Well, if I were, I wouldn’t be texting you right now, would I?”

“That’s true, but at least you’d be drenching your sheets because of me and I don’t think I have a problem with that.”

“I don’t need you to do that, maybe I can use some toys in my drawers tonight. They seem pretty bored.” Thinking emoji.

“Oh, doll, you are killing me here…” Drool emoji.

“You like it.”

“I do.”

“Goodnight, Bucky.”

“Goodnight, doll. Thinking of you here.”

You turned off your phone and the screen went black. You changed into your pyjamas and washed off the remnants of your makeup and let the slumber take over you.

Bucky’s face loomed over you, somewhere in a fancy balcony, the view of the city stretching over, added to the beauty of the scenery. He was wearing a navy blue suit with a white dress shirt and no tie. The first couple of buttons were unbuttoned, giving you a majestic picture that he was. His hands that were in his pockets, took yours as you exerted yours to him.

He leaned in with a bright smile under his stubbly face, his blue eyes sparkled like Sirius star.

“Fly with me, doll.”

“What if I fall?”

“Then I’ll catch you.”

520 notes · View notes

1doll-4u · 3 years

Text

𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍: 𝐎𝐍𝐄 — 𝐁𝐍𝐇𝐀

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: dark! shinsou x fem! reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1,447

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: angst, fluff

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: growing tired and overwhelmed with your royal responsibilities, you take off into the night for a little walk to clear your mind. you meet someone..or something that night.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: cussing, violence, gore, sexual situations/smut (not in this chapter), possible triggers, horrible writing, character deaths, sexual content

𝐀/𝐍: lowercase intended + this is just a random drabble so it isn't written very well. i didn't proof read it or anything. in the future i may write something similar to this if ppl do like it. this won’t be continued atm but maybe in the future if i get feedback.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑

“you can’t keep doing this, you know that right?” your mother sighs, clearly tired of your antics.

you look down at the polished floors, it is easier this way. you never liked disappointing your mother but you can’t help it.

“i told you, i don’t want to do all of this..” you mutter, not having the will to raise your voice. you fear you’ll be punished severely if you do.

“all of this, is for you. your reputation and for the kingdom’s future. stop being so selfish. you can’t be unwed for the rest of your life,” she chides, moving her hands in the air to emphasize her words as she walked around your room, “you have to choose one of them by the end of this week. i do not care if you are against it. neither does your father. if you don’t choose by that time we will decide for you.”

you opened your mouth to protest but she stops you with her next words.

“speak and you won’t be able to leave your room for a whole week.”

she paused to see if you’d defy her. you didn’t. feeling satisfied, she leaves you to sulk alone.

your parents have been bugging you to get married. it was getting tiring. you tried to convince them that you had no interest in being some old rich guy’s arm candy but they simply didn’t care for your thoughts.

you felt trapped even in your spacious room. what are you going to do? you don’t want to choose anyone to be your spouse and you didn’t want your parents to either..

if you do get wed, you’ll lose a lot more privileges. you won’t be able to leave the house without your husband knowing, your hobbies will be reduced to nothing as you’d be too busy putting up the appearance of a loving wife..and bearing a child.

you don’t want any of that. just the thought of being in that situation repulsed you.

time passed with you not leaving your room for dinner or anything else. you didn’t even notice that it was dark out until you looked up at your windows.

the moon shined bright and bathed your room, making everything look shiny underneath it. you felt like it was calling to you.

somehow you mustered up the energy to get out of bed and change into more suitable clothes for your little escapade.

you blew out all the candles that were still lit and leave your room as quietly as you could.

after going through many secret doors the guards and your mother don’t even know about, you make it outside with no trouble.

you have done this before, many times. breaking rules always felt thrilling.

with the adrenaline going through you, you continue your walk towards the forest. it feels nice to have some freedom even if it may be the rebellious type.

the walk to the forest felt short but peaceful to you. it didn’t feel scary walking alone in the dark. the moon’s company made you feel safe.

you enter the woods and look around. usually you only ever stop at the little lake. your parents forbid you to go any further and you didn’t understand why. the forest is beautiful but you wish to see more.

maybe there are some rare animals that exist further into the forest? a rabbit walking on two legs? a deer that can talk? that would be a fun story to tell.

you take a step over the invisible line stopping you from venturing forward, it was hesitant at first but your steps grew more solid as you continue.

nothing seemed different at first glance. the deeper you go in though, you notice some things.

purple flowers you’ve never seen more appear. they glow in the dark vibrantly, urging you to pluck them and touch their soft petals.

and that you did. you go to pick up one but a voice stops you.

“i wouldn’t do that if i were you..”

startled, you look around frantically, the voice seemed close..but there is no one in sight. could it be one of the guards? did one of them follow you here?

“why?” you didn’t know what else to say, too busy looking around and glaring hard at the trees, trying to find the person.

“those flowers are deceiving. they look pretty but once you take a sniff you’ll be out.”

the voice sounds again, still very clear but no body in view. growing anxious you finally ask what’s been plaguing your mind.

“and..who am i speaking to?”

you continue to look around fruitlessly, growing impatient when the person doesn’t speak for a few seconds. they couldn’t have left already, could they?

“you are speaking to me, of course.”

you stagger forward, surprised when the voice whispers directly into your right ear. turning around quickly you see a man with bright purple eyes that almost seemed like gems in the dark.

his skin is pale but not an unhealthy pale. he seemed to glow, drawing you in more. the unruly hair framing his face doesn’t make him less attractive. it actually suits him.

you have never met him before. you would be stupid to forget such a face. as you continue to take in his form, you notice something behind him..are those wings?

big black wings protrude from his back, the tips being a pretty regal purple. they seem to be transparent and sparkly. is he a fairy?

“you know, it’s bad to stare,” the..fairy teases, a smirk playing on his lips when you snap your eyes back to his and blush.

“sorry..” you don’t even want to say any more. it feels like your throat is tightening with every breath you take. your face is flushed and you probably look like a ripe tomato.

he brushes your apology off, reassuring you that you don’t need to apologize and continues to speak.

“why are you so far from home, princess?” he walks over to some pink flowers and plucks one, observing it as you watch.

how did he know you are a princess? no, that’s a stupid question to ask. of course he knows. you aren’t dressed like most of the common folk.

“i..couldn’t sleep, so i thought maybe a stroll would do,” you answer, still standing in your place. for some reason your body does not want to move. part of you is too scared to in his presence.

“i understand. it must be tiring in your position but i would advice against going so far into the forest. who knows what kind wicked creatures you could encounter in the night.” the fairy carefully touches the flower in his hand, brushing the petals and shaking off the dust that covers it.

an unknown warmth blossoms in your chest. no one has ever taken your struggles seriously. at the same time you feel slightly irked by his advice to not venture further into the woods.

“thank you..but i don’t see why i shouldn’t? no creature has pounced on me yet,” you tried to counter.

“yes, not yet. but they do exist. they are just lurking in the shadows of the trees. they watch. they wait for you to feel safe, and then they pounce at your most vulnerable state.” he gives you a smile as if to somehow quill your now bubbling nerves.

“are..you...” you aren’t sure if you should voice your thoughts. what if he takes it the wrong way? will he lash out? put a spell on you?

“hm? what is it?” the fairy walks closer, the smile still etched on his face, slowly growing when noticing you having your little dilemma with yourself.

“..are you one of them?” you ask, looking at the ground instead of at him. this is it. you are going to die from angering a beautiful fairy.

“..one of the wicked creatures? hm...” he doesn’t answer you right away, deciding to contemplate on it as he walks around you.

you grow anxious from the close proximity, wishing he were a few feet away from you like before.

“what do you think? am i one of them?” he stops right behind you and leans into your back, his mouth near your ear. his warmth seeps into you and your body becomes rigid at the sudden contact.

no one has been this close to you before. no man ever has. you don’t know what to say. is this a test? is he messing with you? will he kill you if you say yes?

“well? what is it, princess?” his deep voice urges you to answer, you could feel his chest rumble against your back.

45 notes · View notes

lastluvbug · 4 years

Note

Your Trick Me Once and Trick Me Twice was amazing! My poor heart ached as I read it. May I request for a situation where Kalim was depressed after the events of Chapter 4;Jamil says something along the lines of "If only you hadn't exist" and Kalim decides to take drastic actions like attempting suicide? You can choose if his attempt is a success or a fail but I do want to see Jamil's reaction to the attempt though. Of course this is only if you are willing to write this. Thank you very much! :)

Toxins

Haha, you guys sure are enjoying the angsty Kalim fics! Oh well, truth be told, I am too! So let’s continue the sadness train!

Warnings: Extreme suicidal tendencies, toxic behavior, and language.

Please do not read if you are sensitive to these topics.

Vermillion skies bled to dark midnight as a little twinkle on the horizon grew into a thousand stars that created shapes and pictures Kalim loved to trace with his fingers.

Twilight, the death of the day, and the birth of the night. A long time ago, it was the part he dreaded with a passion unmatched by any other. After all, when the sun set, that meant today was over, and all those precious times he’d savored were now nothing more than lightly remembered memories soon to be rewritten, or forgotten. But now... well, now that he had no one to fall back on, no one to reach out to, twilight was now the sweetest kiss he could await for, the kiss that he’d wished to feel, but for now could only see.

Caressed by the wisps of wind that held the slightest hint of spice, he leaned back onto his hands, swathed in the moonlight that seemed to spotlight only on him, on the tears that freely dripped down his cheeks like crystals, a sad smile tugging at his lips. Feet dangling over the edge of the too tall balcony, he drank the taste of night, the bittersweet flavor of the dry desert air.

Sleep had long since been a hazy concept, often coming in sporadic periods that sometimes stretched for hours, and sometimes lasted no longer than five minutes. No longer did he carefreely fall into blissful dreamland, no longer did he find comfort in the silk finery of his sheets, or the clothing that had once fit so snuggly over his already lithe body.

Stomach shrunken, fingers bony, cheeks ever so slightly caved in, Kalim had gone from so heathily full, to a frail petal on the edge of falling from its flower of life. He didn’t need to show anyone the way his ribs had replaced the muscle that used to line the bones, didn’t need to explain why he’d suddenly found nitpicking every food that was placed before him as a new hobby. Probably the worst of all, he refused to allow anyone to see the secrets he was hiding, masked with a terrifying expertise he surely shouldn’t be capable of creating.

Riddled with jagged lines that cut over his shoulders, his hips, his thighs, Kalim hid those so well, walking without a single limp, waving without a flinch, acting as if he didn’t feel the sting of reopening wounds whenever he stretched his limbs a little too far, or the dripping of crimson as sparkly as gems down tanned skin. Laughing soundlessly at the tranquil sky, he sniffled, betraying his actions as the glittery sea of bottled sadness spilled from his eyes.

What was perhaps the scariest feeling of all, was that he simply felt... nothing.

All those smiles to his friends, all those sympathetic hugs he offered to classmates in need, he didn’t feel anything through it. It was as if a switch had been turned off; the dark smothered his light, shutting out the emotions that had so clearly made Kalim, Kalim. He could laugh and cry as much as he wished, but that didn’t cover the fact that it was all... fake? Forced? Imitated?

He knew why. He wrote about it every night, in the journal he kept beneath his pillow. He dreamt about it, whenever he could manage even a glimpse of an image past the realm of sleep. He remembered it, he remembered him. His words. The ones that stabbed him in the back, in the heart he thought he could so foolishly bear to someone who’d once been so trusted.

He knew this was all because of Jamil. But he rejected any thought that came within a hundred feet of blaming him. How could he? How could he even begin to blame Jamil, after everything he’d done?

“Hey, Mr. Oblivious. Won’t you pull your head out of your ass for one goddamn second and pay attention?”

Kalim should’ve been listening better, then Jamil wouldn’t have had to tutor him on basic classes.

“Why won’t you just get out of my life? I’ve told you a million times, and I’m done repeating myself. I’m not your friend. I never have been and never will be. Now leave me alone.”

Was he being too pushy? Maybe... maybe he just needed some space.

“Kalim, get the hell out! Good for nothing leech, just get away from me!”

...How much longer can he do this?

Slow, encumbered, Kalim turned his head to the door of his room, waiting, hoping, praying that the handle would turn, and welcome in the one person he wanted to love again, despite the late, late hour. Staring at the wood, he felt numb, expecting something he knew would never happen.

Falling rather ungracefully from the balcony ledge, he dropped onto his wide bed, onto the plush mattress that was deceivingly firm underneath his back, cradling all the wrong places as his covers practically strangled him in the heat. The tears that came this time weren’t born of fear, or anger, but grief and guilt.

Maybe if he’d been more perceptive, maybe if he’d loved just a little harder, things would be different. But... didn’t it amount to anything that he’d tried? That once, Jamil had been treasured like a brother? Didn’t he care at all that Kalim was suffering?

Cuddling into the overwhelming confusion between suppressing heat and empty cold made Kalim’s head spin, and cradled by the hand of the night that so desperately urged its dimming sunshine into sleep, he felt his eyes slip shut, sinking into a slumber that was neither welcoming, nor satisfying.

<————>

Heavy and cold, shivering in warmth, dimmed in light.

Kalim curled in on himself, sleep clothing askew as he gritted his teeth, chest sinking with a fractured stabbing as he hugged his knees to his chest. Just as the nights before, sleep had brought nothing but a dreamless black that he wished he could stay trapped inside, only to awake yet again in a body that only ever seemed to work against him.

Sitting up, he grunted as his wounds burned, flames traveling through his veins as if salt had been rubbed into his cuts. Tears speckled across his eyelashes as he bit back his cry, every breath he took watering the knot that grew in his throat.

He knew then, with the sensation of cracking glass prodding at his chest, with the cloud that dampened his head, with the glaze that formed over his eyes consisting of dammed tears and bottled fear, he couldn’t do it today. He couldn’t go out and act as if everything was alright. He couldn’t smile and laugh like he’d taught himself to. Because every time, it would come out too broken, it would show the feelings he’d worked so hard to conceal.

He needed to make a trip.

Dressing himself was an especially difficult task, as any small movement made his arms scream in protest, his hips cry in red as mended injuries were pried open, his thighs burn like boiling water had been splashed over them. But, biting his cheek and gritting through it, Kalim disregarded his bodily urges to stop, pulling on his school uniform and sloppily tying his turban, slipping on his pointed shoes to complete the look.

He didn’t even note the time as he headed out, feeling unbearably heavy as he glued his gaze to the floor, wandering through the halls of Scarabia. Along the way, he caught the eye of a few students, who waved energetically. He didn’t have the strength to summon even a hint of a smile back, trudging past them as he blinked, shoving down the water that longed to rush down and cool his warm face.

Pinned with the helplessness of being alone, Kalim hesitantly made his way to the mirror portal that led back to Night Raven’s main building, freezing as he noticed who stood against the wall, cleaning the dirt from his nails. Jamil barely acknowledged Kalim until he was within reaching distance, scowling as he met the crimson eyes of the other.

Though he was tugging dangerously hard on a taut string, Kalim inhaled as he brought forth a shimmering smile, betraying the unspoken words in his eyes. “G-G—“ Kalim cleared his throat, swallowing the knot, “Good morning, Jamil! Are you on your way out? I could come with you, if you’d—“

“You’re a damn idiot if you think I want to spend even a second with you. Not that it’s any of your business, but I was waiting for someone.” Jamil clipped, crossing his arms.

“A... Ah, of course! Well, I could still stay with you as you wait for—“

“No. It’s clear they’re not coming. I should get out of here, before I waste anymore brain cells on a useless, incompetent child like you.” Jamil didn’t make eye contact as be pushed off the wall, pushing by Kalim without another word and wandering off into the labyrinth known as Scarabia.

Fists clenched tightly at his sides, Kalim stared blankly into the mirror, watching it swirl and sparkle with ethereal light as he resisted the urge to break down right then and there. He could feel as his legs quivered, on the edge of giving out as his breathing hitched, shallow and shaking.

Still, he followed the path set aside in his mind, almost missing a step as he practically fell into the portal, whisking away to the Mirror Hall.

Emerging on the otherside, he almost breathed a sigh of relief when no one was there to greet him but the dead silence of morning. Instead of bouncing off to class like he would’ve had he the stability to paint on a pretty smile like any other day, he made a sharp detour to a certain portal he never saw himself going into.

Stepping into it, he squared his shoulders, prepping himself with failing encouragements for the conversation that needed to succeed.

<————>

“Dorm head Vil. Pardon the intrusion, but you have a visitor.”

The blonde looked up from his vanity, pausing mid stroke and setting his mascara down. “Oh? Let them in, I’m not busy.” He shrugged, standing to his full height, enhanced by his heeled shoes.

“Of course,” the underclassman nodded, stepping out of the room to allow in said visitor.

Kalim felt weirdly out of place in the proper Pomefiore, despite having been raised in sumptuous royalty since birth, and setting foot into Vil’s positively sparkling room made him wince inaudibly with guilt. His bone slim fingers twitched with anxiety, a dark shade over his eyes as he stepped before the taller boy, only scarcely making visionary contact. “Good day to you, Vil,” he blandly greeted, grinding his teeth together in a smile that looked more like a grimace.

“...And to you, as well Kalim. Is there something you needed?” The white haired dorm leader shuddered, offering no explanation before pouring out the dialogue he’d rehearsed a hundred times in his head.

“Well, you see... I’d like to ask you if you could make me a poison. Something fast acting, and easily hidden, that doesn’t smell too horrible.”

Vil flinched, pupils dilated and mouth agape as the request spilled from Kalim’s lips. He... wanted a what? For who? Why? “E-Excuse me? Kalim, what are you thinking?” Vil near yelled, balling his fists at his sides.

“O-Oh uh...” Kalim scratched the back of his head, feigning an awkward look as he chuckled. “It’s for educational purposes. I’ve been cooking for myself lately, and knowing me, I’m likely to accidentally poison myself!” He laughed boisterously, perceived differently by both listeners. “So I figured you’d be the one to go to, right? Unless... maybe I should’ve tried doing it on my own...” His voice trailed off, Vil’s hand on his chin, debating within himself.

Kalim popped a sad smile that didn’t appear so outwardly as Vil returned the act, a smirk falling to his painted lips as he extended a hand towards the prince. “Very well. Of course, coming to me is obviously the smartest idea someone like you could’ve come up with, but sit down first. You look absolutely atrocious.” Vil scoffed, gesturing to the seat before his vanity.

Reluctantly taking a seat, Kalim felt the insult dig deeper beneath his skin than it should’ve, crushing his hands under his thighs as he obediently followed Vil’s instructions, lips pulled into a thin line.

With momentary strokes and too gentle touches, Kalim couldn’t help but think of Jamil, seeing his gold speckled coal black hair and stony grey eyes instead of Vil’s blonde and amethyst. He used to do this too, every morning, dragging a brush dipped in black over Kalim’s thick lashes, dabbing red onto the corners of his eyes, thumb and first finger gripping his chin and tilting his head when need be.

A cold stab to his heart snapped Kalim from his short lived memories, reminding him of his purpose for coming to Pomefiore. “All done. Now that you look presentable, please, follow me.” Vil clapped, stepping away from the fellow leader and clicking off. Scrambling after him, Kalim gripped the fabric of his sweater tightly, biting his lip.

They didn’t travel too far, Kalim following closely behind Vil as he unlocked his bathroom door. Arriving in the room, Kalim toed the polished white tile, the lights fixed into the ceiling seeming to spotlight him as opposed to the beauty guru who swooped low to open the cabinets under the sink.

Inside were a number of brightly colored liquids, some transparent as water, others dotted with plant shavings or objects Kalim didn’t want to recognize. “Fast acting... sweet smelling, easily hideable, is that correct?” Vil quizzed, the twinkling of glass clacking against glass filling Kalim’s ears.

“Exactly,” he nodded into the mirror, averting his gaze quickly.

Vil didn’t reply, merely smiling devilishly before bringing out a small cauldron and three different bottles. Apprehension pulled Kalim taut as he watched the taller begin to explain his process, acetic irony making him soundlessly sneer. From poisoned to poisoner.

“On most occasions, a poison of this sort wouldn’t be possible to make, seeing as you want it to be not only quick to show results, but also pleasant-smelling. But, since you are working with the best, I believe we can make it work.” Vil boasted, uncapping and pouring the first vial into the cauldron. “This one is for the rapid dissemination,” the second, “this one for scent,” the third, “and this one for dilution, to water down the color, though still deadly.”

Kalim watched in wonder as Vil stirred the liquid, eyes wide and trained on the poison. Though at the beginning, an arrant black that made him scrunch his nose in disgust, the more Vil continued to churn, the color began bubbling with splashes of transparency. By the end, it was water-clear, and almost overpoweringly reeked of florals.

“Ah, there we are,” Vil smiled, laying a delicate hand on his cheek. Once again swooping low, he retrieved an empty bottle, ever so carefully filling it with the solution and capping it. “I haven’t made any antidote for this particular poison, so it may be in your best interest for me to hold onto it presently.” Vil cautioned, placing the ewer just out of reach while Kalim’s eyes shadowed.

“A-Are you sure? You can trust me, I’ll be careful with it!” Kalim argued, smiling wide to prove his point.

“Hm, I’m not a fool. I feel it would be for your safety if it was in my care until I create an antidote.” Vil refuted, sternly said, toying with the intricately designed cap.

Kalim chewed his tongue, clenching and unclenching his fists as he formulated a plan. Beaming a smile to Vil that seemed so outwardly innocent, he bowed slightly, showing his appreciation. “I see. Thank you for your time anyways, Vil.” He lied through his teeth, rising from his bow and bouncing off.

He didn’t risk a glance behind him as he stepped out of the senior’s room, shutting the door gingerly behind him. Scanning the gorgeously decorated hallway, he identified objects that could be used to his advantage, closing his eyes as he snapped the steps of his newly formed plan together.

Tiptoeing over to a vase that rose slightly above his head on a marble pedestal, he yanked the flowers that sprouted from the top out, tossing them on the floor as regret rooted itself into his heart. He internally apologized for what he was about to do, knowing full well that no one would hear him.

Winding his arms around the pot, his knees buckled as he dropped the weight of it in his arms, the arms that could barely lift his body mass. The water inside sloshed around, jumping onto his face as he regained his footing, tilting the porcelain prize and leading a trail of water around the corner of the hall. Repositioning himself in the indigo drapery of the curtain closest to Vil’s room, he swallowed a deep breath, hurling the expensive decoration as far as he could, cringing as the sound of shattering filled the hallway.

He hid himself in the curtain just in time, as Vil’s door burst open, slamming against the wall as he stormed out, empty handed. “What in the— Rook! Rook, go chase down Epel! That little scamp destroyed another vase, and made some pretty little prank out of it too.” Vil barked, Kalim cowering behind the curtain as the older stomped off.

“Sorry, Epel-kun,” he whispered, before creeping out from the curtain and darting back into Vil’s room.

Snatching the vial from Vil’s bathroom countertop was surprisingly easy, Kalim tucking it into his pocket as he scampered out once again, heartbeat amuck. Sneaking along the walls, he beelined away from the mess he’d created, turning a blind eye to it as he pushed open a random door in the hope that it was some sort of exit.

Instead, he welcomed himself to the Pomefiore lounge, where a handful of boys were lined up before Vil and Rook, Epel amongst them, who all twisted to stare at the invader. “Kalim? What are you still doing here?” Vil badgered, arms crossed.

“U-Uh... you see...” Kalim ducked his head in fabricated humiliation. “...I got lost... I couldn’t find the exit.” He whined, a few of the students laughing as Vil sighed.

“Rook, please escort Kalim out. I need to have a word with you lot.” The leader threateningly smiled, the laughter immediately ceasing.

“Of course, Roi de Poison! Come now, Kalim, we shall leave these heathens to their due punishments!” Rook singsonged, spinning over to the white door where he stood.

Kalim looked over to Epel, who had his face scrunched in confusion and fear, an apology spelled in his gaze that the purple haired boy only caught at the last minute, Kalim vanishing behind the door as Rook pulled it shut.

“Oh, what a tragedy! The rowdy boys of our dorm destroyed a simply magnifique vase crafted of the finest quality! On top of that, they made a mess of the hall too...” Vil’s overly extra vice leader boohooed, the flowy feather of his hat bouncing in an imaginary wind.

“Really...? Why would they do that?” Kalim asked, as if he didn’t already know they answer.

“I wish I could say. I often wonder what goes on in those spoiled little brains of theirs.” Rook replied, falling into a solemn silence Kalim relished.

The early blue sky hadn’t before been such a treat to the Scarabia dorm head, the boy thanking Rook briefly for the guidance. “Of course! Do come again!” He laughed, waving briskly and waltzing back inside the rather stuffy building.

Sneaking a victoriously pitiful smile, Kalim pulled out the stolen toxin, only holding it to the sun as he stood before the mirror portal.

It wasn’t supposed to be so easy.

A tiny part of him had wished it hadn’t been.

<————>

The school day came and went in a blur of colors, voices, and assignments that flew right past Kalim’s head.

He wasn’t fully there when he agreed to walk with Azul, the Leech twins joining not to long after. Happy conversation tied between the threads of three complementary personalities weaved around Kalim, who remained uncharacteristically silent throughout the exchange. He was too busy twirling the stolen poison in his pocket, and had been for the whole day, debating his very existence instead of interacting with his peers as he normally would.

The quiet wasn’t overlooked by the three, though Floyd was the one to finally put voice to the thought the Octavinelle trio shared. “Hey, Sea Otter~ is something wrong? What’s with the face?” He cooed, downturned eyes for once actually bearing a dollop of sadness.

“Hm...? Oh, um—“ Kalim shook his head, pulling a smile to his face that looked more dismal than welcoming, “—of course! I’m a little tired, is all! Y’know, Trein’s lessons can put anyone to sleep, even me!” Kalim laughed, mutual discomfort shared between the Leeches as Azul fixed his glasses.

“Kalim, would you like to accompany us back to Mostro Lounge?” Azul offered, having picked up on Kalim’s abnormal behavior. “We could always use someone like you to brighten up the atmosphere.”

“Yes, Azul is right. You know how to play the drums, correct? Why don’t you pair up with Floyd? You’ll put on a show that’ll attract dozens to the Lounge.” Jade smiled, eyes shut out of joy.

For a moment, Kalim thought about it, giving them the false hope that maybe, he’d agree. He felt remorse sink its claws into his brain, making him shake his head as the three strolled by the open courtyard, a flash of red, gold, and black making Kalim freeze as he identified the person behind the Scarabian shades. “A-Actually, I had plans already,” he fibbed, stepping back to put distance between himself and the trio, “I was going to meet Jamil in the courtyard. Sorry guys.” He bowed, shoving his hand back into his pocket to fiddle with the bottle.

Azul perked an eyebrow. “Jamil wanted to meet up? With you?”

“Uh, yep! Told me this morning!” Kalim smiled, trying to wave off the suspicion that the fellow second years exuded.

“Oh? I thought that you and Sea Snake had—“ Floyd began, but Kalim was already dancing away before he could continue.

“Sorry, don’t want to keep him waiting!” He shouted, coughing after he stepped outside. It wasn’t often he had the voice to be so loud anymore.

“Should we pursue this, Azul?” Jade asked calmly, Floyd’d signature careless grin upside down in a glower.

“...No. It’s Kalim, he’ll figure it out himself. It’s about time he learned how to do so.” He coldly decided, pushing his glasses up. “Come, we have business elsewhere.”

“Of course,” both Leeches replied, though Floyd couldn’t hide the somewhat concerned look he sent over his shoulder, before disappearing with his fellow Octavinelle members.

In the courtyard, Kalim looked around confused, having been so sure that he saw Jamil walking around from the hallway. “Surely, he didn’t leave... wouldn’t I have seen it if he did?” He puzzled, approaching the stone well located in the middle of the wide yard space. He briefly caught a glimpse of his striated reflection in the impossibly dark water at the bottom, hastily breaking the contact to look up.

Through the strings attached to the wood bucket, Kalim’s maroon irises set themselves beneath the apple tree, to the person who sat so daintily upon the black-rimmed bench. With his hair brushed over his shoulder, Jamil crossed his legs, immersed in a thick book that Kalim couldn’t quite make out thanks to the gap. Sprinkled in the choppy afternoon sunlight, he looked more like an ethereal angel than the traitorous student he was to Kalim, so deceivingly beautiful.

Exhilaration, and dare he say, a spark of hope, flared in him, a genuine smile splitting his face as he sashayed closer. Believing that he had the courage to mend the bridge that had been severed from both directions, he stopped a meter from the bench, attracting Jamil’s attention, who shot him a dirty look, tearing himself from his readings.

“What is it you want now, Kalim?” He spat, holding the book up.

“I... I saw you from the hallway and I...” It was as if he’d forgotten how to speak, words working against him.

“Congratulations for using your eyes, dimwit. If you’ve come to be nothing but a stuttering fool, see to it that you leave me alone.”

Kalim squeezed his lips shut, heeding Jamil’s advice as he awkwardly looked up, to the apples that grew plentifully from the strong tree overhead.

Courage slowly being whittled down to an embarrassing pit, Kalim forced himself to smile once more, pulling his hand from his pocket. Taking a seat beside Jamil, he gripped the edge of the bench, leaning over the side to peer at the cover, and, riskily enough, Jamil’s tranquil features.

They didn’t stay tranquil for long, as grey orbs met Kalim’s enchanted red ones, scowling as he noisily slammed his book shut. “What?” He seethed.

“Nothing, I just—“ he cut himself off, unwilling to live the lie any longer, “I miss you, alright? I miss—“

“No, don’t start. Screw this, I’m leaving.” Jamil growled, tucking his book under his arm and stomping away.

“Jamil! Jamil, wait...!” Kalim called. Panicked as the vice refused to listen, he hopped up, rushing over to him and pulling on his arm, book falling to ground in a flurry of aged pages. A thunderous boom exploded in the courtyard as it collided with the ground, Jamil whipping around, arm still locked in Kalim’s grip.

“Jamil, please! I’ve tried so hard to take care of myself, but I need you!” He confessed, tears brimming. “I need your—“

“Shut up!” Jamil yelled, making Kalim flinch as he tore his arm away. Turning the tables, he spun, shoving a finger into Kalim’s chest as he grew red from anger. “What you need is to grow up! Do you understand how much you’ve hindered my life, because you just “need me so much”?” He kept shoving his first finger into Kalim’s chest, making him stumble backwards. “I wasn’t able to have a normal childhood because of you! I had to hide who I was, because of you! And now you need me? You must be a goddamn idiot, even after all this time!” Jamil accused, Kalim staggering as he tripped over himself trying to back away.

He refused to let his tears fall, Jamil continuing with his rant as his back hit the apple tree, both of them speckled in the magical light, despite the argument. “It would’ve been better if no one came to save you whenever you were kidnapped!” Kalim choked a sob, meeting Jamil’s murky eyes as the taller seized the collar of his shirt, slamming him back into the trunk of the tree.

Kalim gasped as his head thwacked against the wood, Jamil so close he could feel his uneven breathing. “If only you’d never existed.” He whispered, shoving a hatred dipped dagger into Kalim’s heart as he dropped the boy, Kalim’s legs giving out as he fell to the ground, eyes glazed and distant.

Stomping away, Jamil grabbed his book and left the courtyard, steam practically pouring from his ears as red hot anger guided his feet as far from Kalim as possible.

Dropped unceremoniously on the grass, the silvery haired dorm leader slumped over, bleak and broken as he stared to nowhere at all, shoved over the dam that had both blocked his sugary tears, and kept him from drowning in the ocean of self hatred and doubt that now had full access to Kalim’s entirety.

Numbly, Kalim picked himself up, ambling towards the school corridors once more as his eyes dried, hand reaching back into his pocket and this time, pulling out the vial within.

The clear liquid swished around, seeming so harmless in its elegant bottle.

Kalim hoped with everything he had left in him that it would be quick.

<————>

The beat of his heart had never been so loud before.

Erratic and off timed, electric volts shot throughout his hands, every pulse of blood throbbing in the tips of his toes, the center of his chest, the thin muscles of his legs. A formless noose of cold anticipation wound itself tighter around his throat, strangling the words that longed to be said from a voice that wouldn’t again speak. Tears pooled in his deep red eyes, though Kalim couldn’t fathom why, since he waited all this time just for the moment of peace that wouldn’t remain so peaceful.

Lying with his back against the end of his bed, Kalim rested his head on the firm wood, clenching the small bottle of poison Vil had specially created that morning in one fist, his journal in the other. Tilting his head to look at the moon, always a perfect circle, and always smiling down at him despite the action he was so close to making. He was tempted to smile back, but uncapping the bottle and smelling the rosy scent that wafted from it, he was reminded why it was he couldn’t.

Dropping the book inked with the thoughts he’d neither shared nor broke free from, he watched as it fell, slamming on the floor loudly and torn between pale light and shadows. Inside, a letter was tucked in the smudged pages, the last note that would be written in his swirly handwriting. He prayed that Jamil would take the time to read it, but he didn’t want to hold his breath.

Lifting the graceful vial to his lips, he felt his tears drip down his supple cheeks, for what seemed like the first time, fear dripped into his soul.

He was scared. What would be waiting for him after...? Would this really fix his wrongs? Would it... make up for what he did to Jamil?

“No,” he thought gently, pressing the glass to the plush flesh of his lips, “it’s not for you. It’s for everyone else.”

Hungry for a distraction, he looked to his door, locked for safe measures, keeping any prying intruders away. He didn’t want anyone to stop him. He needed to this, needed to make up for the years of pain he’d brought to those around him. Though, he did regret not getting a second chance to apologize to Jamil, the scuffle from before helping him realize that Jamil truly didn’t want anything to do with him. He deserved this. He earned it.

Finally, setting his dulled gaze on the moon once more, he leaned the glass up, pouring the liquid into his mouth and swallowing it in a single gulp.

It was excruciatingly bitter, burning trails down his throat as he gagged, dropping the vial as his hands squeezed his neck. The feeling didn’t stop no matter how tightly he wound his fingers around the skin, the bubbly fire spreading throughout his chest and dripping into his stomach, iron-tasting blood seeping out through his parted lips.

His vision swam with black, his body betraying him as he lost the fight in him, leaning back on the end of his bed, sitting with his legs stretched out on the floor and hands numbly dropped into his lap. It no longer felt painful as he struggled to keep his eyes open, the midnight-dark blood dribbling over his chin to settle on his clothes.

He had time for only one last thought, jumbled and lost to the winds of his mind, never to be voiced.

“I... I’m sorry... for every breath I took. I’m envious Jamil, that you had the strength to carry on for so long... Me? I couldn’t last half a year in your shoes... I’m not a fighter... I’m not even strong enough to look you in the eye. I hope—I hope this did something for you... I hope this... brings an end to your suffering.”

For a moment, he saw his life flash before his eyes. The games he used the play when he was little, the laughter he used to share with his siblings, the friends he made, the fight that cost him his best friend... they all seemed to burn away as he stared at the moon, ever the lively spirit.

But, just like a candle whose fire was blown out, he snapped, going limp in the paleness of his room.

Sat on the floor, leaning against his bed, Kalim Al-Asim took his last breath, light finally snuffed out for good.

<————>

Clomping down the corridors of Scarabia, Jamil pulled his hood over his silky braided hair, something indescribable cracking in his chest.

He hadn’t seen Kalim at dinner that evening, off putting Jamil’s behavior as he pondered over the reason behind the change. Ever since Kalim announced them as “equals,” Jamil had been rather lax with his servant duties, cooking only for himself instead of for the prince, refusing to wake him in the morning, and so on. But tonight... tonight was the first night he noticed Kalim’s absence in the mess hall.

Asking around had revealed that the white haired dorm leader had been skipping the meal for quite some time, furthering Jamil’s confusion as he followed his planned track to Kalim’s room. How long hadn’t he been eating? Was he really that afraid to ask someone else for help? The idiot.

Jamil gritted his teeth. The absence hadn’t been the only reason he was so adamant on checking Kalim.

He wanted to—and damn him for saying it— he wanted to apologize. Ever since that afternoon, when he laid hands on Kalim, he felt strange, almost guilty. Maybe it was true that Kalim was overly clingly and immature, but it wasn’t his place to hurt him the way he did. Not only that, but...

Jamil furrowed his eyebrows, glaring at nothing in particular as he tried to assemble a puzzle that was missing far too many pieces. The gnawing in his stomach continued as he trudged down the hall, bringing a fist to his cheek as he nibbled on his lower lip.

Kalim had been so... thin. Like all the muscle on his body had just melted off, leaving skin and bones as replacement. Before the overblot, Kalim had been almost neck-and-neck with Jamil when it came to physique, always healthily svelte, while the dark haired servant became more toned thanks to the dirty work he often found himself in. But now—now Jamil could only describe Kalim as frail, dangerously near skeletal.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Jamil tried and failed to remember how easy it had been to slam Kalim into the wall, to pin him using barely an ounce of his strength. The usually cheery boy’s helpless face flashed in the darkness, stained with tear tracks and shock as Jamil walked off, not even a glance over his shoulder to accompany him.

How long had it been since Kalim properly took care of himself?

“Doesn’t matter,” Jamil clucked quietly, reopening his eyes to see that the end of the hall, and the door leading to the grand bedroom, was closely approaching, “I’ll just get him to tell me. He’ll be back to the old Kalim in no time. Idiots never change, after all.” He quipped, though the tremor in his voice sounded more like a timid reassurance than a witty remark.

Stopping a few inches from the door, Jamil bit his tongue, debating what he was trying to say as he pulled his hood down. Cautiously bringing his hand to the door, he faltered for a split second, as if in fear the wood would reach out and bite him. Three quick short knocks bounced off the hall walls, magnified in Jamil’s ears as he was met with silence. “Kalim, it’s Jamil. Can I—I come in?” He stuttured, surprising himself.

When, yet again, late night quiet was his response, he felt the need to double over, uneasiness eating his gut. Knocking again, Jamil placed his ear on the door, listening for the rustle of clothing, or the scuff of shoes on stone. “Kalim?” He tried, hand slithering down to the brass knob. “Kalim, answer me or I’m coming in.”

Still nothing.

Dread coiling in his core, his arms stiffened as he turned the handle, finding it firmly held in place. Frantically jiggling it, he used a shoulder to push at the wood, feeling it give way ever so slightly. “Last warning, or I’m busting in, Kalim. Open the door.” He deadpanned, taking a step back.

The third round of the silent treatment sent Jamil over the edge, the vice shaking out his hands before balling them, running shoulder first into the door. It swelled, before dropping back in the same place, Jamil repeating the process over and over until his shoulder was decorated in a blossoming bruise and there was a hole just big enough for him to weasel his hands through.

Wincing at the sting in his skin, Jamil pushed his hand through the cracked wooden hole, maneuvering his arm so that he could reach the lock from the handle. Twisting it, a satisfying click rendered the door openable, Jamil yanking his scratched arm from the door panel.

“Alright, Kalim, was that necessary? I understand that I—!” Jamil froze as he swung the door open, letting a swath of light from the hall slip into the dorm leader’s exquisite room.

His heart skipped a beat as his blood chilled, eyes stretching impossibly wide while the air fueling his lungs seemed to be syphoned out of him.

There, just barely discernible from the dark, Kalim sat motionlessly. His eyes were sealed with his thick lashes, mouth parted as blood dribbled down to the neck of his clothes. He lie still, propped up by the bedside, a transparent purple vial close by, glinting in the light.

One moment... two moments... three, until Jamil shrieked out Kalim’s name, throwing the door completely open and rushing inside.

Sliding and dropping to his knees before the body, Jamil softly lifting him into his embrace as he called for anyone to come help, to come save what had clearly been lost.

“Kalim... Kalim, wake up...! I know you’re stronger than this! Get up, move, do something! Please, please wake up...!” Jamil cried, brushing the hair away from his forehead. “I-I’m sorry I pushed you earlier... I’m sorry I l-left you alone for so long. I... I didn’t mean what I said, you know I didn’t! I’m sorry, I’m sorry but please, just open your eyes... laugh one more time. Smile...? Anything... just... wake up...”

Nothing. Kalim was cold, and not a single breath heaved from his bony chest.

“Somebody help me!” The plea was cracked, echoeing about as Jamil suppressed tears, tears that shouldn’t even exist.

He asked for this. Every damn night, he asked for this. He wished with every part of what he was for Kalim to be kidnapped, for him to shunned, for him to rot in a ditch. He hated Kalim—no, he despised him.

So why the hell did it hurt so much?

Why did every look at his pale face stab his heart in a way watching an abused puppy limp did? Why did he care that Kalim was feather light, that it felt as if he was holding a pile of bones rather than a person? Why were there tears dripping from his hatred powered eyes?

Trembling with the force of fear, disbelief, and stigma, Jamil’s ears didn’t recognize the orchestra of shouts and gasps that rang out behind him as Scarabia students acted upon his words, calling for teachers and help alike. He didn’t realize just how many tears slid from his face to Kalim’s bloodied clothes, soaking the fabric. He could only stare numbly at Kalim’s once so buoyant features, at the eyes that would never again light up with joy whenever Jamil entered the room. At the cheeks that would never again heat up in a blush that was the product of his profuse smiling. At the lips that would never, ever utter a single syllable, or pull into a grin that made even the sun look like a busted light bulb.

Moreso than that... Jamil heaved breathy sobs at the discoveries he made hidden all over Kalim’s body. His arms, mutilated with self inflicted wounds that never properly healed. His torso, tenuous and more bone than skin. He wouldn’t let himself go any further, already shaken to the core by the sick scavenger hunt.

The tears felt hollow and empty, painfully slow in their race to his jaw, grip crushing on Kalim’s shoulders.

He fought with a vigor that put three boys in the infirmary when help finally arrived, Kalim being wrestled away from his protective grasp and off to who knows where. He didn’t settle down until Kalim was carried off somewhere, far outside of Jamil’s view, and was left with the worthless consolation from people he didn’t care to see.

The only thing that ran through his head was the fact that he’d been the cause of this. That he was the one who pushed Kalim too far. That it should’ve been him to die instead.

Hours later, Jamil slept in Kalim’s now unoccupied room, stumbling upon a certain bound journal that just begged to be explored.

<————>

Why was it that the saddest moments always happened on sunny days? Was it the sun laughing at the earth’s struggles? Was it nature’s way of trying to ease the pain?

Jamil had no response for his questions, dressed in his formal wear as he stared somberly down at the glass casket, the temporary bed for Kalim’s lifeless body. Today would be the last day he ever saw him, as in less than an hour, Kalim’s family would be arriving to take their brother, their cousin, their son, home.

“Hey Kalim...” Jamil muttered, kneeling before the casket. “I, uh... I wanted to say goodbye, one last time. You’ll be with your family now, they’re taking you back to the Land of Hot Sands, where you’ll get a proper burial.” He said, studying Kalim’s blissfully expressionless face.

It was so strange, seeing him so calm. It looked like he was sleeping, like he could wake at any moment and pull Jamil into a hug that he would reciprocate with all of his strength, had he the opportunity.

“It’s not fair...” He whispered as a ray of light painted over Kalim, making his white tuxedo almost blinding. “Even in the afterlife, everything about you is so... so happy. Not a cloud in the sky, the sun shining on the horizon, it seems fitting. You were always... the sun to my moon.” Jamil admitted, a realization striking him like a lightning bolt.

“Oh, I um... I read this last night,” Jamil held up the black journal he’d found in Kalim’s room, “Kalim, why did you keep yourself hidden like that? You didn’t have to—you know you didn’t have to! You shouldn’t have done this to yourself, because of me. You should’ve... should’ve...”

Should’ve what? It wasn’t Kalim’s fault he felt that way... it was his. Jamil knew that.

“I know it’s a little—no, very, very late, but I... I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Those words don’t mean anything now that you can’t even hear me, but I need to say them. I need you to know that I’m sorry...!” He felt his eyes damped, and using the back of his hand, he wiped away the water that hadn’t even spilled yet. “Kalim, you were right, okay?! You were right! You may have needed me, but I needed you more! You gave me my freedom, even after I threw you to your death! I had so much pent up anger, I didn’t... didn’t know what to do with it!”

The dawning of the truth set Jamil’s waterworks into action, a pretty blush darkening his cheeks as his shattered weeping rose into the air. This was it. Kalim would never smile, laugh, speak again. Never. He wouldn’t ride a magic carpet, or sit on the balcony of the lounge, or even take another breath.

He was gone.

Undeniably, irrevocably, gone.

Sniffling, Jamil placed the journal in Kalim’s hands, having written his own letter inside. “I figured, your family deserved to see your last words. And my apology. There’s not much left for me to say... but thank you. You were never in the wrong, it was me. Thank you, for being so forgiving, even in my darkest hours. Thank you, for staying by my side. Thank you, Kalim, for being the brother I didn’t realize I needed.”

Standing, Jamil leaned over Kalim, the one he took for granted. Sliding his hand over his eyelids, he bent down, pressing a kiss to his forehead, the way he did when they were little. “Goodbye.” He breathed, before parting ways, beads of saltwater still trickling down as he trekked off, fists balled tightly at his sides.

<————>

Dear Kalim,

I’ve had little time to ponder over your passing. Over the very certitude that you’re not here anymore. But in that little time, I’ve arrived at a single conclusion, that can’t begin to express my emotions.

I said I hated you. I said I wished you’d never existed. I said I wanted you out of my life. And, I used to mean those words. I used to believe that if you one day disappeared, everything wrong with me would suddenly right itself, that you were the source of my suffering.

But... only now, when you’ve really departed, do I see that I was so incurably mistaken.

I was the cause of your pain, as once upon a time, I thought you to be mine. I’m the fool, for having ignored you for so long. I’m the fool, for pushing you beyond your limits. I’m the fool, for pretending to hate you, even as I myself, was at the mercy of your charms.

When we were young, I treasured you like family. We fought like siblings do, we laughed as brothers, we grew as a pair. It’s impossible to set a specific date, but somewhere along the way, something changed. Suddenly, you were no longer my brother. Suddenly, you were my rival, my enemy that I could never escape.

I know the penmanship of my woes could never bring you back, I am painfully aware of that. I am beside myself that it took your death for me to grasp that the reason I never left your side was because I didn’t hate you.

I never left you, because I was afraid.

I was afraid that you’d lose the need for me. I was afraid that you’d leave me behind. Moreover, I was terrified of losing you, like I have now.

That smile of yours, the one that never ends, and never fails to bring laughter to even the coldest of hearts, that was what I wanted to preserve. That was what I wanted you to keep, if nothing else.

I’m truly sorry, sorry beyond what words can say.

I pray that one day, you’ll smile again. It’s far too late for me now, but I want you to know that you were my best friend, Kalim Al-Asim.

You were what I strived to be.

I just wished I had the gall to admit it sooner.

Written truthfully,

Jamil Viper

Yet another request finished! Thank you @etervenislucifen for the ask!

I hope you enjoyed, and thanks for reading!

Stay lovely!!

#twisted wonderland #jamil viper #kalim al asim #twst #angst #vil schoenheit #azul ashengrotto #jade leech #floyd leech

135 notes · View notes

tbartss · 3 years

Text

vld hcs from question on curious cat

My response to this question was too long for curious cat so I’m posting it all here :’))

Lance: so many different headcanons that i love. - that his dad died in an accident when he was young (like about 7) and he was mostly raised by his mom and his uncle, his mother's brother. - his uncle taught him how to shoot. Started off with shooting cans in their backyard with a shotgun because Lance's pre-diagnosed adhd was running wild, and he needed something to distract him so that he didn't drive his already busy mother crazy - he played soccer before the garrison and was actually pretty good at it - there is only a years difference between him and rachel - he is bisexual - he has adhd - he misinterpreted his jealousy/attraction of Keith as hatred/rivalry - Insecure about his position but gains more and more confidence through Voltron - Met Hunk at the garrison (but sometimes i also like to imagine them as childhood best friends :')) ) - had a reputation at the garrison as a flirt, but he never let that deter him really - he's a flirt sure, but he's just trying his luck with love. I don't think he doesn't care about the people he flirts with, he actually cares a lot, and i think if anyone would just give him a shot, that he would make a great boyfriend (I am not counting canon allurance here bc there's so much wrong with that and this is already so long) - His love language is words of affirmation and physical affection - he has a giant scar on his back, either from the explosion in s1 or the lighting electricity thing from s6 - he has scars on his hands as well from practice - someone said that he throws knives with perfect aim and honestly i love that so much i'm gonna steal it - he has brown eyes :')) - he has glow in the dark stars in his childhood bedroom and a guitar that his grandmother painted a wave on

OK LET'S MOVE ON

Keith: - His dad died when he was 10 and he ended up in foster care directly after that - He self sabotaged the good homes because he didn't feel worthy of their love/because he still had hope his mom was gonna come after him - he loves his dad so much, like so fucking much - he's a lowkey artist. like,,,, he doesn't talk about it or anything, sometimes he just doodles, or he thinks about painting, you know stuff like that - his love language is acts of service and quality time - He met shiro when he was 13 - he's homodemisexual (fav hc) - He's asian (either japanese or korean, but really any east asian is good by me) - He's never been kissed - He's never drunk before - He went to the garrison to stay with shiro and because he didn't really have anything else to do. I don't think he was particularly interested in space tbh, like yea his dad might have been vague about the stars once but i don't think it really became a drive until after he met shiro or shiro disappeared - He's emotionally mature, but expresses his feelings rather agressively - he's blunt - has multiple scars on his person, not sure whether i'm fond of his cheek scar because of the context - not really into music as such (listens to a song here and there maybe, mostly the radio but even that is like,,, eh)

Pidge: - NON-BINARY (most important one) - asexual - is a literal child, so this means she still has a lot of maturing to do in regards to how she handles things - she may be a genius, but intelligence does not equal emotional maturity - i don't really have many headcanons for this gal unfortunately :((

Hunk: - raised by his mom and his dad - has an aunt that his mother doesn't liek to talk about because she's in a scandalous relationship with her boss - LOVES gossip - sunshine, friends with everyone - samoan --> learned to cook from his mother and his grandmother (mostly grandmother) - has an uncle who's a single father of one son - has two aunts that are raising two children together - lets only shiro into the kitchen to help (he simply doesn't trust the others) - Met Lance at the garrison (although again, childhood best friends :')) ) - sexuality... i've seen some people headcanon him as pansexual but idk,,, i can't really see him with a guy despite my love for heith and hance so im conflicted ToT - i don't have a lot for my boy hunk here either im sorry :'(((

Shiro: - raised by grandpa - parents died in an accident - wanted to become a pilot/astronaut bc of his grandmother - doesn't know how to cook for shit - was goofy when he was younger - realized he was gay when he was 15 and had his first gay crush (adam) - fedora phase - japanese obv - free-spirited until he eventeually began to settle down - suffers from ptsd - that's all i have so far aaaa

Allura: - was SUPER into philosophy back on altea - bisexual - super STRONGE - organized - night owl - badass in combat training - meant to pilot the black lion after shiro u CAN'T change my mind - best friends with Shiro - is shiro's age (sorry but i don't buy the teenager bullshit, it literally doesn't make sense, i don't care what they said in canon) - LIKES SPARKLY THINGS - has trouble sometimes leaving her father's shadow

Coran: - secret love affair with Alfor or some shit idk there's a weird tension there that convinces me they were together somehow - loves Allura SO MUCH - loves dressing fancy just for kicks - knows so many unnecessary facts - SUPER funny - doesn't know how to cook either lol - banned from the kitchen by Hunk because he lowkey sabotages his food out of spite lmao - likes to think of himself as young even tho,,, he isn't,,, really,,,, - that's it i think

AAA THIS WAS SO LONG BUT IF YOU'VE READ IT ALL UMM OMG U DESERVE A MEDAL OR SOMETHING ANYWAY BYE LOL

#voltron

41 notes · View notes

harryspet · 4 years

Text

Guarding Genevieve - h.s.

[Warnings] harry styles x named oc, girl!sub x dominant!possessive!jealous!boy, bodyguard, spanking, handcuffs, angst, mild violence

In which genevieve sneaks away for the evening and her loyal bodyguard finds her and decides to punish her for it.

word count: 1.8k

Gen should've been happy that she was on some beach in a beautiful foreign country and away from the dangerous men who had intentions of hurting and even killing her. Still, she missed her friends and her family back in the states, who she wasn't allowed to contact anymore. For the past month, the only "friend" she's had was Harry.

Harry was a sad excuse for a friend.

He was an attentive man. Ten years working for the special forces of the government will do that to you but how did that teenage girl manage to slip from his hands. He was getting his usual four hours of sleep and, usually, he heard everything that went on in their house but, when he woke up at two in the morning, he felt something was wrong.

He picked up the gun that always sat on his nightstand and focused his hearing. He checked her room and found the form of her body laying between the sheets. He almost brushed off his feeling of worry until he realized that her chest wasn't slowly rising and falling. He walked over and pulled back the comforter, finding an array of pillows instead of a human body.

Fuck, he cursed mentally. Her father wasn't paying him six figures to lose her.

It only took five minutes to search the rest of the house, put on some clothes, tuck his gun in the waistband of his pants and file out of the door. As he expected, the car was still there which meant she had made it out on foot. The little rich girl never learned to drive because she had always had a chauffeur. Thank God she couldn't be far away.

Knowing her, the young lush, she was probably at the nearest bar or club.

"Where are you from?" The blonde-haired boy with sun-kissed skin, a local, asked her. They had been flirting for at least ten minutes and he had bought her a drink, thankfully, because she had no money on her. Harry was in charge of the financials. However, she did have a little black dress that helped convince him.

"Chicago," She lied. She ran away from the man keeping her safe but she wasn't stupid enough to tell a stranger any personal info.

"Never been," He said, "I can imagine why you'd want to get away. The scenery here must be much better."

She nodded, "Yeah," She sipped her bloody mary, "I like the views here very much," She did this thing, gave men this sparkly-eyed look, that would bring men to their knees. Every man except Harry of course.

The bar was right on the ocean and she was definitely right about the views, "So how long are you going to be in town?"

"Just for the night," She lied again, "I really just wanted to do something fun before I get back to reality, you know?"

"Fun, huh," He bit down on his bottom lip as he thought for a moment, "Let's see, my buddies and I have a place on the water just a few miles from here. We could hang out, have some more privacy if you want."

"I would love some privacy," Her words had a double meaning, of course, because Harry had been invading hers for the past month. They had a few more drinks and laughs before he paid the bar tab and they headed out to his car.

He was about to take her hand when Gen realized she left her jacket inside, "Hey, stay right here, give me one second," She said before turning around. The jacket was where she left it but, when she returned, her hot date was not where she had left him.

"Dude, who the fuck are you?" Surfer guy cursed, angry that the devil himself was blocking him from getting in the car.

"Harry?" Gen spoke, eyes wide.

Surfer guy turned to face her, "No, it's Hayden, remember?"

She shook her head, "Not you," Harry stepped forward and grabbed onto the surfer guy's shoulder, pushing him roughly into his own car. "Harry, stop!"

"She's not interested, Hayden," He said his name with such distaste, "You can kill yourself drunk driving but she will be staying with me."

He was obviously too disoriented to fight back. Even when he tried to push Harry away, he stumbled. "Fine, keep her, cause I don't fucking want her," Now surfer guy was looking at me with distaste.

She opened her mouth to say something to the surfer guy. She was so close to defending him and screaming at Harry but the words that left his mouth took her back. Maybe she was more trouble than she was worth.

Harry stepped back and she could feel the anger radiating off of him, "Fucking bitch," she was looking down so, at first, she thought those words came from Harry expressing his anger towards her. Turns out that it was Hayden and there were exactly three seconds between him uttering the last syllables to when Harry's fist collided with the surfer guy's face.

"Harry!" She shouted after it all happened so fast. She had never seen him like that. He looked crazed. Surfer guy doubled over and then was kicked in the stomach several times.

When he was done, he grabbed Gen and pulled her away from the scene. I had no doubt that someone from the bar had witnessed the brutal scene and was in the process of calling the authorities.

The car he drove here was still running and the way it was parked suggested that he was in a hurry. Now, she was the one being pushed up against the car. His whole body was pressed into hers and his hand was around her neck. Not enough to cut off her air but enough to scare her. "I don't like killing people, love. It's not my favorite part of my job so, when you put me in situations like that, I get extremely frustrated."

He wasn't yelling but his voice was so loud in her ears and the outside world had gone silent. She gritted her teeth as she tried to push him away. "I hate you!" It only resulted in him grabbing her arm, turning her body around, so now her front was pressed against the metal. "Let go, Harry!"

"Does it seem like I'm trying to be your friend? I'm not the one with ten million on my head. I'm the one trying to keep you safe and keep my job in the process."

She felt him reaching into his pocket for something and she heard the jangling sound of metal before something clicked around her wrist. She was in the tropics but all the heat she was feeling was coming from him. There was a mix of anger and something else that she couldn't recognize.

"Harry," She whines, the metal digging into her wrist, as he forces her into the passenger seat.

"Just be grateful I'm not putting you in the trunk."

"Ugh!" She let out a frustrated breath of air, kicking the door, before finally slouching and accepting her fate.

She watched from the window as a man exited the bar, he looked like the manager, and she heard Harry as he coolly informed the man that he was a bounty hunter and I was the criminal he was charged with capturing. Apparently, she was a crazed meth head who’d gone on a crime spree.

The drive back to the house started quietly, the tension thick between them, mainly caused by how hard that Harry was gripping the steering wheel. "I don't understand it," He finally broke the silence, "You were going to sleep with him of all guys? Some random one you just met?"

His question took her back. They had spent the last month together yet this was the first personal question that he had ever asked him, "I wasn't going to sleep with him . . ." Her voice trailed off.

"No? Then what were you going to do? Have a romantic dinner?" He scoffed, the sarcasm dripping from his tone.

"Why does it matter?" She blurted out, "So what I was going to spend my night with someone else that wasn't you? Are you jealous or something?"

He fucked up. He got quiet and gave Gen the answer that she wasn't expecting. He knew Gen believed he had a cold heart but even he grew attached to the people around them. Especially the ones with beautiful smiles and unbelievable confidence.

"You're jealous!" She displayed a shocked look on her face. If she could cover her mouth right now, she would have. "Oh my God, Harry-" The car skidded to a halt and Harry pulled off to the side of the road.

"You're infuriating, Genevieve!"

"You like me," She was teasing him now and, although she was cute, Harry couldn't stand it.

"It's not that I like you," He corrected her, "It's that I rather you not die."

"You like me, Harry," Now she was grinning wildly.

"Genevieve-"

She interrupted him with her sing-songy words, "Harry likes me-"

It was a risk. Bolder than any risk that he had taken and the man had chosen to pull a trigger multiple times. If it was one thing that he had over her, he could change the situation quickly and he did because, seconds later, he had her bent over the middle console.

"Fine, I like you," He admitted but he had the upper hand, literally, set on her bottom. He lifted her dress and there were no more songs from her. He had taken the words from her and instead of fighting him, she found herself anticipating what was next, "But there are still rules you have to follow. Just because I like you doesn't mean that I will let you disobey me."

She jumped, squealing, as he brought his hand down on her bottom, "You're sensitive. I haven't even hit your bare bottom."

"You – are – not – to – leave – my – sight – little – girl," He punctuated each word with a spank to her bottom, causing the girl to squeal and struggle in her restraints.

She wanted to speak but her voice had disappeared as she grew more embarrassed. "If you act like a spoiled child then I will discipline you like one."

"O-Okay," She stuttered out, scared that he'd deliver one of his exciting smacks again. And with her face so close to his crotch, she didn’t want to risk anything else. "I-I get it–"

She was interrupted by the hardest spank, "And you'll address me as sir, always, and you will speak when you are spoken to. Understand?" She could practically feel the smirk growing on his face.

When she hesitated, he spanked her red bottom until she finally got the words out, "Y-Yes, Sir!"

His hands rubbed over her bottom, which stung at first until it didn't anymore. He seemed to have gotten out all of his frustration because he began to run his hands through her hair, "Things are going to be different from now on, Genevieve, but I think you'll get used to it. You might even enjoy it."

Then he did the worst thing she could've possibly imagined. He felt the crotch of her panties which were completely soaked, even to her surprise. She didn't know how she could be turned on by someone literally hitting her, "No, you'll definitely enjoy it, Genevieve."

This is one-shot but if someone request another part (and gives me an idea of what they want to see) I could make a part two! If you want to read more of my work just check out my #masterlist !

#dark fic #harry styles au #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x oc #harry styles fic #one direction fanfiction #bodyguard au #bodyguard harry #dark harry #writing #fanfiction

295 notes · View notes

blankdblank · 4 years

Text

Wicked

“Hey, Nat?”

Naturally poking a trained killer would have anyone on the wrong end of the death stick. But after your years of building a friendship after having literally totaled the top three floors of Stark Tower by having crashed into it stopping a shuttle from obliterating the city, post border crossing with some alien scavengers who had knocked it off course she knew how hard it had been for you. Years of reigning in your strength and even control of your voice that could sway others to doing what you wanted later, she smirked still every time you stole a successful pat on her arm without bruising it or knocking her around by accident.

“Hey, hope you enjoyed your day, just spent mine wrangling some four legged creepers out of the Dodgers Stadium.”

Steve from the other side of the counter in the kitchen called back, “Hey! That kid tripped me, none of that was my fault!”

Sam scoffed, still muttering to himself rubbing a cloth vigorously onto his jacket to get a mustard stain off of it. From the scuffle ending the pair of them on the news while Bucky was dangling from the balcony to the dugout shouting at one of the players who had made a kid cry after he’d gotten struck out yet again.

“Well, it was, mainly, online, browsing.” Her brow inched up noting your nerves peaking up again meaning things might start levitating around the room soon. “I have a question, favor really.”

“Sure, whatcha got for me? Anything to get me out of the on call pool tonight.”

“Well, you’re good at blending in,” she nodded, “And I got these tickets, but I don’t know how fancy is too fancy to go see a show on Broadway, and all I have might be a bit too sparkly after my sequin,” your tone slowed as she stood up and grabbed her coat, “Shopping, trip.”

You looked her over and she gave you a kind grin, “Let’s go shopping. Find you something stunning.”

Trotting after her on your toes you said, “Well, not too stunning, I mean I have some voom, but I don’t want to be too va va voom, to a show. It’s not my show, I’m just going.” Again she smirked at you hitting the button for the elevator, “It’ll be dark, but I don’t want to distract. I just, by all accounts I shouldn’t be able to afford the show, but I helped that guy with that bus crash and he said his son works the counter and knows another guy he didn’t name and they put me down for tickets for whichever show I wanted. Which really isn’t all that logical a gift I mean they’re losing out funds to give me two seats-,”

Her hand folded around yours pulling it from twisting around your shirt button. “Pluto, you stopped a bus from plowing through the theater on Broadway, everyone that works there owes it to you that they still have their jobs and the theater and production companies all because you flicked your hand to stop a bus and help an old man that stumbled off the curb. Two seats is so far from damaging to how badly that crash would have been. You earned it. Now what did you want to wear?” She asked stepping into the lift.

“Well, I wanted to wear one of my sequin minis, but again, sparkly, I didn’t want to distract. So, black perhaps. Many films have said that a simple black dress should be a staple to one’s wardrobe.”

“That it should. I prefer black, always does the trick, and don’t you worry about your va va voom. Only people worried about your voom will be dropping dead quickly enough from jealousy.”

“I don’t believe that is how jealousy works.” Making her smirk again and pat your arm, “Ah, another verbal intricacy.”

Over a black bandage dress set to hug you perfectly you looked to your friend while she suggested a pair of heels she had gone with you to buy months prior after seeing her sighing over a shoe sale advertised in a magazine you asked, “This weekend, are you busy?”

“Unfortunately. That when your show is?”

“Yes,”

“Well I could see if Bucky could stand in for me.”

Shaking your head you said, “No, they need a brain there. I can, ask someone, someone fun.” The sentence and sure nod you had given yourself in a sweeping glance over the store had her holding back a chuckle and glancing back to the rack of shrugs you might like with a bit of shimmer to fit your preferred palette of a tad bit sparkly and a blend of colors resembling galaxies. Her focus there bringing you back on your mental ramblings as to who to ask dipping back into picking out something to help keep you warm in case it got a bit chilly.

Back to the tower you went and through each room you went pausing to glance at each person inside, every person in varying levels of being accustomed to your awkward ways, always with Peter overreacting. That tingly sense he got that he was being observed while distracted ended up with him chucking his the mask Tony had just finished polishing for his new suit halfway across the room into the rubbish bin making Tony’s jaw drop open with a stunned scoff.

Noticing it was you however Peter turned and sprung across the room, “Sorry Tony, habit.”

Tony, “I just polished it…”

Peter, “Just so used to it being my Aunt, not Miss Pluto.” Digging it out and buffing it with the elbow of his sweater.

Passing that room you continued on to the study where you found your chosen target. Right onto the cushion beside the raven haired Prince, who was seated with brows furrowed in focus on his Mahjong game on his tablet, you sat luring his eyes right to you as your legs were crossed between you and your finger tapped his elbow. “You’re fun.”

The grin on your face causing him to lower the tablet to his lap and shift in his seat in confusion, “It has been some time since I have been told that. Might I ask the importance of my talents of amusement?”

“Well, see I have tickets to a show, and you’re a Prince, Princes go to shows all the time so I thought I might see if you wanted to go with me.”

“There are two Princes in this building.”

“Yes, however, I would prefer to not ask Thor, he would draw the wrong sort of attention while I am meaning to see the show, not distract from it. No doubt he’d get bored and start juggling chairs or something.” The thought making Loki smirk your way.

“That is my argument in my favor? The ability to behave myself in tedious situations?”

“Absolutely not.” You fired back making him smirk at you. “See, I have tickets and Nat helped me to pick out a dress and you’re a Prince and Princes go to shows but normally I don’t fit the look of someone who could afford Broadway tickets. I figured if you might go then I might not be taken as out of place because, well, Prince.”

The final word was accented with another poke only luring his smirk out more, “Even without me you would fit in perfectly.” In the sink of your brows he stated, “I shall go, when is the show?”

“Saturday.”

He nodded then looked you over as you moved to turn so you might stand asking, “Why do you let them call you Pluto? That is the name they have assigned your home planet, but not your name.”

Your eyes met his, “Not everyone has a name so kind to tongues as yours, Prince Loki.”

“Your name is very kind,”

“They lack the vocal vibration necessary to perfectly pronounce my name without issuing insult. Pluto is a lovely alias.”

“Why did you choose this planet?”

“My father tried to eat me.” His brow inched up, “Unlike Asgardians our Lords may only father one child.”

“He required a son.”

“No, he burned for one.”

“I suppose it would be safer for you to remain here then and not return home. Figures you might try to acclimate. Though Asgard would always welcome you.”

“Oh yes, who could be concerned with the Jotuns once a Plunoie has touched their golden grounds.”

“They would never treat you as I have been. You are the daughter of a Lord and will be treated as such.”

“Says you,”

“Even Thor is fond of your company and Mother has always been curious of Pluto. She would defend you.”

“All the same, enjoy your game Prince Loki. Go for the dragon.” His brow arched up and he looked to his tablet again finding the matching dragon tiles he tapped making him smirk at a lotus tile he needed.

There was no question of what you had chosen, merely the creeping joy that he was the Prince you had chosen to support you in this. He knew all too well just how fragile these creatures could be and how long it had taken him to master his own skills to remain among them for their safety. Far superior to their beings without a drop of cruelty in you he had to marvel how you pushed yourself to control easing yourself to safe levels among mortals within a few meager years while it took Asgardians hundreds with scarce blip of trips to Midguard to test their control among them. If you had asked for support in this support you would get from him on this occasion and any other.

Wicked. The word was splashed across the billboards and posters and at the door you showed your tickets that seemed to trigger a ripple of gestures ushering you and Prince Loki through the crowds with great ease straight to your seats right up front with what they called the best view in the house. The people around you and the task of getting here just barely enough to keep him from staring at you dumbly since Pepper had made sure that he and you managed to get into the elevator at all in the double sided stare down.

Settled down in place with legs crossed for you both Loki’s gaze shifted from the playbill in his lap to the lanterns on the walls flickering luring focus to you. Without missing a beat up his arm went to rest across the armrest between you to ease his fingertips between the palms of your hands tangling in your lap from nerves. Once your eyes fell on him through the vibrating pulses that had started to form in your hands his fingers eased to intertwine with yours acting as a buffer to stop the reaction interfering with the electronics in the block. Lowly he whispered to you mentally, “You are doing lovely so far. Just breathe.”

“Have you seen this show before?”

“No. Although I have read it is something of a prequel to the Wizard of Oz.”

“I do hope it does not bore you.”

Again his eyes shifted to glance at his hand fixed in yours stirring an urge to beam brightly like an idiot for finally claiming more than a greeting poke from you. The action a way of proving that unlike the mortals you didn’t have to hold back with him or be afraid to harm him, and have one person on this planet who didn’t leave you a nervous wreck to upset or harm by accident. Also unaware of how much his action had comforted you in his fearless taking of your hand. Finally having some form of contact with a being strong enough to equal yourself, at least in day to day tasks and situations.

“You could never bore me.” The words echoed in your head a few moments until a snap of a picture being snapped of the pair of you by a woman hurrying by had your focus on her. Only to see an usher come to escort her out for disturbing fellow ticket holders stirring up an argument from her she was unable to win as when told to delete the photo to get in she posted it online. “See, no one ever wants my picture.”

You glanced at him to the stroke of his thumb along the side of your hand, “No doubt more comments will pop up to see what I destroy this time.”

“Another reason why I am your ideal companion on outings, equally as culpable for damage to the public. I don’t mind playing the villain to spare you unjust scorn.” Softly he gazed back at you with an easy grin on his face shifting to the warning the show was beginning in a moment. Over the audience a hush fell and your eyes shifted to the curtain in the dimming of the lights signaling his own hand to tighten a tad from his own nerves and yours to fold around his.

‘No One Mourns the Wicked’ seemed to set the mood that they were setting up the lead role for Elphaba to be the main focus. ‘The Wizard and I’ though lovely seemed to make your stomach sink knowing how the sequel ends. By ‘No Good Deed’ you and Loki both leaned together, with your second hand clutching his sleeve at the elbow resting into his arm while he did the same to yours. Up with the crowds you stood with his hand keeping your hand he looped around his elbow saying, “You can just pat my arm.” Knowing your timid stance on clapping too hard so he clapped and you merely tapped finger tips around his arm easily disguised in the dim audience and while the lights rose an usher came to escort you both out first to keep you from being hounded by press while they lined up for the stage door experience.

“That-,” out of the pair of you for the show was all you could muster up to discus the flawless yet all too familiar notions behind the role. Good intentions landing someone as a named villain hounded and insulted at any chance given. Outside your car had been called by the valet and into it you eased with Loki strolling around to drive. Stealing a glance your way he buckled up then shifted in his seat with blinker on to pull out heading back to the tower.

Glancing your way again to your soft sigh he heard you say, “It’s so sad.”

“Yes it is. Wonderful, but sad.”

“I thought it was supposed to be happy. Pepper said it was the better choice of the two offered. Other one’s about chess. She said it was sad.”

Loki’s brows furrowed at the slowing of the traffic making him stop asking, “If the chess one was sad by her terms no doubt we would have left absolutely depressed.”

Sudden clunks of buildings going dark from a rolling blackout had groans filling the street and glancing around you checked the cars around you and lifted your hand to try and hover the car back only for Loki to pat the back of it saying, “I’ve got it.” One swish of his hand and the car was coated in green glowing smoke that in a flash had you parked in its usual spot back in Stark Tower Garage. “Now, for another surprise. I promised you dinner.”

Curiously out you climbed once he’d teleported to open the door with hand offered to help you up, making certain to keep close. Once again taking in each tempting detail of your unbelievable self just barely a foot in front of him. “Cooking? You cook?” You asked seeing him all but glowing in the faint light from the emergency beams in each corner while the tower whirred powering up on its backup generator.

At that he smirked saying, “I am now.” Again his hand melded to yours through your soft squeak. “Heimdall,” Bright lights flooded the garage to the Bifrost opening and once inside the golden dome your eyes dropped to the plume of a rainbow coated cloud of vapor escaping your lips. Lifting your hand you grinned seeing your skin again naturally glimmering with prisms of light, rainbows dancing across it in each movement. Looking up to Loki your eyes were no longer purple but in each glance away reflected the same galaxies the curls laid down your back in a dangling strip from the end of your rolled over bun Wanda had helped to pin securely.

“Welcome back Prince Loki,” the head of the gold clad guardian bowed to him then turned to you speaking in your own tongue rather roughly, “Welcome, Lady.”

Smirking at him you replied, “I take it-,” your words halted seeing the cloud escaping your lips much like the ones when freshly landed on Earth had caused earthquakes after affecting the atmosphere luring your free hand to your lips.

Loki stated in a pat of his fingertips on your arm, “You are safe to our planet,” meant exactly as he had said it, turning your head to catch his nod, “Our atmosphere is much thicker than Midguard. You are safe here.”

Facing the guard again you said, “You are Heimdall.”

“I am, yes.”

“Did you see the show?”

“Yes, while you are here perhaps you may prefer one of ours.”

Loki’s hand still holding yours shifted as he said, “For now, I am cooking us supper.”

Heimdall’s brow inched up, “I am not doubting your skill, however, Queen Frigga has put much effort into its preparation.”

Flatly Loki replied, “Breakfast then.” Making the guard smirk at his first step down the golden steps you looked down to taking a step at a time with the Prince pausing to see the pencil skirt fighting against the movement.

It was only two steps yet all the more adorable when you caught his eye saying, “I neglected to practice on stairs.”

Heimdall glanced away pretending the blush inching onto Loki’s cheeks replying, “Mastered already.”

Nodding you replied, “For every lie you tell me I expect five steps in a handstand,” he smirked at you and chuckled as you added, “I will waive this first offence.”

“I did not lie.” You paused with a brow raised and he repeated, “I did not lie! That second step, you mastered it.” Your eyes narrowed slightly and his dazed grin eased out making you turn away.

“I am watching you.” He nodded stepping as you did out into the bright moonlight that dimmed your impressive colorful shimmer to your shielded yet still glittering self cast in rainbows reflecting the bridge the Prince led you across.

“That I am grateful for.” He hummed pointing out clusters of stars until you got far enough from the Bifrost he could turn and point saying, “And that-,”

“Pluto.” Stepping back he watched your eyes dart to the bridge and up again to the distant city shining brightly making you ask, “Is it hard to clean, all that gold?”

Smirking at you he replied, “We have our ways to ensure it remains intact and glimmering for guests.” All the way across he pointed out different locations until the guards around the city curiously looked over the new guest everyone was curious about. Thor had brought handfuls of guests home but you were the first Loki had invited, as well as the first of your race, leaving no clue on what to expect.

Golden halls with thick tapestries ended in what you could take as the throne room by the massive golden throne looking far from comfortable. Each shadow you passed through between flaming bowl stands brought out your same glowing appearance from the Bifrost fading away again in the light of the flames cast your way. Right in front of the throne you eyed the blonde woman clad in an elegant green gown Loki released your hand to embrace. “Mother,” he said smiling looking her over to turn to you still smiling brightly halting your head nod her way a moment, “I would like to introduce my guest,”

Frigga cut him off, “Please do tell us your true name, I would not wish to disrespect you by using the name Midgardians can pronounce.”

Through a deep breath you wet your lips replying, “I am called, Ku-l’ua Jaqiearae.” The name a faint echoing hum from your lullaby tone.

Frigga nodded her head repeating, “Lady, Ku-l’ua,”

That had you giggle and say, “No, Ku is exiled, l’ua is Heir of what you might call Duke. On my planet my rank was T��y’pn-eo. Third Heir of, Duke. And it is said after my name, I was given the name but exile was my choice. But Lady Jaqiearae will suffice here, Queen Frigga.”

Frigga smiled saying, “We shall master your titles soon, Lady Jaqiearae. For now, we have a lovely meal waiting for you.”

“Thank you.”

Her arm circled Loki’s as he offered it and she asked, “How was the show?”

Loki’s lips pursed and he replied, “Well, for a rather light hearted theme it bore quite the drastic undertone.”

Dinner went well and at Loki’s shared comment on breakfast you were granted a spare set of pajamas flowing and not silken as they appeared, though much like in mangas you had seen with a frilly top and barely visible frilly shorts underneath in a pale blue. Either way you were here to sleep although wide eyed after simply touching the bed a waft of rose shot through the air in the puff of smoke erupting from the golden silk sheet under the folded back thickly embroidered comforter in a dark grey. Glancing from your hands to the sheets again you turned to your balcony Loki had commented being shared by his room, across a small gap of course, so he might call you out to see the first of their two suns rising. “Pst!”

Lounging in his favorite pajamas on his fainting couch with his favorite book his grin dimmed a moment turning his head to his open balcony, “Loki!” This time you had whispered a tad louder luring the Prince to close his book and stand up to venture out hearing a second, “Pst!” Not three steps later you repeated, “Lo-,” out he stepped with brows raised curious what the problem was while you took in his long forest green shirt clad self seemingly in no pants visible by the length of his shirt baring strips of his toned thighs. “I lit my bed on fire.”

His brows shot up more planting his hands on the rail between you trying to glance inside your room, “You-,”

“It’s out now.” His eyes were on you again then in a puff of green smoke he zapped to your side walking into your room, “I didn’t mean to. I just touched the sheet and, pfft,”

He glanced at you, “Smoke, makes, a, pfft.”

After a few blinks he asked, “Why does it reek of roses in here?”

“I can’t touch flowers,” He glanced at you again, “Pfft,”

Trying not to smile at your worried wide eyed star-like self he turned easing his hand around you to plant on your back guiding you to the balcony, “Stay with me tonight.”

“But, they said that’s my room.”

On the balcony you glanced around at the puff of green smoke coating then washing away on the breeze from you both at his zapping you to his balcony, “Well we certainly can’t stay out here. The guards change in two minutes.” Leading you inside to his much comfier looking silver and black monster of a bed on a raised platform coated in spotted fur blankets layered across it lit by the roaring fireplace behind his former reading spot. “No flowers here. Get some sleep, I planned on reading a bit first.”

Timidly you did climb into his bed laying an absurd six feet in directly in the middle with a huge fur pillow under your head. Twelve curious minutes you laid there wondering at the lack of a page being turned, looking again to Loki as you rolled onto your side, asking after nearly a half hour of failing to fall asleep. “What are you reading?” His eyes flinched up to you utterly forgetting the book in his hands or the subject it was on by your starlight self glowing so cozily from his bed.

Softly he sighed finding his feet and closing his book he carried over and once he had settled onto the bed in front of you a few feet away he propped himself up reading the cover to you before starting on the first page. “Are you tired?” You asked after his fourth time rereading a line he’d already read aloud to the shift of one of your feet or hands making you wonder if he was simply tired or if you were distracting him from the task at hand somehow. The thought made more amusing by the trickle of a faint blush across his cheeks.

“I believe a few more pages might be managed before I retire.”

“Perhaps I might try to sleep. I bid you a mortal goodnight rest, Prince Loki.”

Faking a shift to roll over you hid your urge to smirk when he looked your way asking, “A mortal goodnight,” with a sigh he said, “Perhaps one day you might share a Plunoie goodnight.”

“If you are certain, I will oblige.” Up you inched to prop up on a hip and hand closing the distance between you freezing the Prince in place to the fall of your shadow over his cheek. A whisper, or perhaps the tap of a nose or forehead, possible trace of a finger across skin or cup of a cheek. A slap would even have been expected before this, as from the square of his jaw across his cheek to his forehead the skin on his face rippled blue with ridges easing out following the trace of your tongue. “May asteroids barrage your nightmares, Prince Loki.”

Back you shifted to lay in your former spot feeling his wide red eyed stare following you, voice lost for only moments before he could ask, “Plunoie, lick, one another, to sleep?”

Shaking your head his mouth dropped open to your spreading smile, “Nope.”

“Ugh, trickster,” he said dropping his book at his side in a slide closer, “I will show you a goodnight of my own.” Ruffling up the covers to have nothing between him and your curled self drawing a squeak from you stirring a cloud of mist above the bed glimmering like a storm of stars in a sunset sky. To your giggle when his hands found your waist easing you up against his side the clouds spread to fill the room releasing a group of firefly like lights that flew around withering after moments while the multicolored blush more Technicolor strobe light than your usual rainbow prism glimmer across your cheeks split his smile wide in curiosity for what the sudden reaction really meant in that moment.

Leaning over you his hand rose from your waist to tenderly trace up your cheek opposite him, cupping it ever so gently ghosting his thumb slower to meet the rest of his fingers adoring the feel of the skin underneath he’d so longed to touch. From hovering above you his face lowered and cheek to cheek in a lullaby of a whisper in Asgardian, “To my star most precious and pure, dreams of adventure and bliss I bid thee, most dear one.” Eye to eye again when he drew back the lights spread again to the deepening of an adoring gaze from the Prince absorbing each intimate moment of this. Forehead to forehead his head rested to your mental count of four followed by alternating taps of his nose on either side of yours reaching that same number. “Rest well, Ku-l’ua Jaqiearae”

Back he pulled to lay back again in his old spot and you asked watching him, “What was the whisper?”

Bringing a finger to his lips in the lift of his book again he shushed you narrowing your eyes, “Sleep now.”

“Five steps, now.” Back to your face his eyes shifted seeing you point, “Handstand for the lie.”

“I did not lie. Merely said sleep now.”

“Now you order me about?”

“I would not dare.”

“Handstand.”

“No,”

“No?” You giggled out luring his eyes to the firefly like lights distracting him against your push on his side bumping him off his bed. To cushion his fall he stirred up a green cloud dissipating to lower him gently contrasting his otherwise painful landing.

Locking his eyes on you his narrowed in a sharp huff, “You boot me from my own bed?”

“You are not getting back in this bed until you give me my five steps.”

“Fine, next Saturday however you are entirely at my mercy, no arguments on my plans, not a one.” Without awaiting your response forward he forced himself off the platform onto his palms in a steady handstand halting a moment to the drop of the lower portion of the shirt folding over his torso revealing a strip of his belly above his shorts now revealed with buttons down the side of his thighs. One at a time once centered five steps were taken and on the sixth he turned dropping a leg to take his weight granting him a steady rise up in lowering the second to walk back to the bed. “Five steps, as demanded.”

Slyly through the spread of his smirk he hummed out, “Now,” back onto his bed he hopped easing from his knees to his former spot and closer still, “Sleep,” again you giggled at the tug you felt on your middle in his arm scooping you onto your side, back against his chest you settled with his one arm under your neck and the other around your middle. Colorful lights and mists thickened deepening the smirk hidden in the hair hiding the face burrowing into it. Down below the oddly colorful balcony steps from patrolling guards were heard passing by crossing to opposite check points, a sound like the again steadying of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep. Behind you however the Prince’s mind whirled out of control wondering what he might just plan, both for breakfast and again for next Saturday.

Somewhere between sleep and wonder a prickle down his arm triggered the droop of his arm heavier around your waist showing sign of his sudden drop off to sleep. A calming numbness knowing that you had fallen asleep on his arm somehow signaled a much needed rest to begin. A sign that unlike when he slept on his side alone held him in place to not wake you, where alone would have him rolling over. Surely remaining awake would only prolong the discomfort so his body chose for him to keep you in place. Breakfast promised however just before sunrise stirred him and groggily he murmured, “Jaqiearae,” the gentle shake he gave drew a grumble in return only urging his head rolling back to confirm by how much light in his room he had to the first of two sunrises had him ease back scooping you up in his conscious arm leaving the other to drop over your curled legs while it stirred.

Half awake his feet carried the both of you to the same balcony he charmed his lounge to the perfect spot to settle down feeling the deep waking breaths from you alerting you would not miss this stunning sight far from your beauty, yet one you had yet to see. Down to the kitchens he led you startling more than a few servants along the way but none more than those coming in to find your giggling self smiling to his oddly adorable lopsided waffle stick castle surrounded by a moat of eggs with meat monsters throughout to be flooded with the as yet unnamed but oh so delicious sauce inside the castle seeping out to mingle their flavors excellently. The mess once all eaten was cleaned up by the both of you ending to the bubble coated Prince chasing your shrieking and giggling self after a surprise attack giving him a fading mustache sliding down around his neck.

Clearing his throat however once he’d caught you the sight of his mother on the other side of the fountain you had been caught trying to avoid he nodded his head saying, “Mother.”

Grinning herself she nodded her hear replying, “Loki dear, do be certain to add the singing fountains of silver on the southern courtyard once you have finished your tour of this one.”

“Yes, I shall.” On your upper back his hand settled stating, “My Grandmother settled the arrangements for these stones herself, and were she not carrying Mother perhaps laid them herself.” Just past another statue and in his hand yours rose to his lips for a jaw dropping lick down the back of your hand. Right after he released you and it was your turn to chase the now fleeing Prince chuckling himself at your stunned squeak.

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @here2have-fun, @lilith15000, @marvels-ghost, @catthefearless, @imjusthereforthereads, @c-s-stars, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore, @mariannetora, @shes-a-killer-kween, @ggbbhehe4455

X Loki - @pastelhexmaniac

X Marvel-Cast - @himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @changlingkhat

#Loki x Reader OC #Marvel #Wicked #New Planets #New Friends #Trickster

37 notes · View notes