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sardonic-the-writer · 1 year

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—a stakeout

SUMMARY | a late night steakout with tangerine has you questioning how you really feel for him

PAIRING | tangerine x reader

REQUESTED | no

WARNING | mentions of guns, hit men, murder, some angst, etc

WORD COUNT | 2k+

AUTHORS NOTES | no spoilers for bullet train! and as much as i love the rivals/enemies to lovers troupe with tange, here's some softer stuff. happy holidays!

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Lemon had done this on purpose.

He had always had the ability to read people well when he wasn't busy talking about that train show of his. You swore he could tell what you were feeling before you did most times—instantly there with a handful of tissues or some reaffirming words before you even knew it. Most times it was real a help.

Most times.

That was all you could think as you stared out a tinted window into the cold night. The leather of the car seat underneath you was warm from hours of constant body heat, your legs surely numb from blood loss by this point.

From next to you sat a tall figure, dressed to the nines per usual. Soft ringlets of messy brown hair fell in his eyes, only ever moving as he let out a big sigh on occasion.

Tangerine rested his head in one hand, the other drumming his fingertips across the steering wheel as he clutched it. Flashes of moonlight would steadily dance over your vision as the luminescence caught sight of the metal rings decorating his fingers.

His rings. Seperate pages in one giant book it often seemed. Each one of them told an individual story throughout his life. The pitch black ring on his pinky? The first time he'd ever gotten into a fist fight on the job, that one had left a mark deep enough in the other guys face to shed buckets of blood. A lucky hit. Tangerine often told that story with pride, boasting that you would still be able to see the scar he left behind to this day.

The chunky gold one situated snugly on his pointer? Lemon had snatched that off a random bloke that had been in the wrong place at the wrong time a few years ago. It had been right when they had first gotten into the business, presenting it to his twin afterward with a clap on the back as a job well done. A sick gift of sorts, but it still managed to make each of them smile when they looked at it.

And that smooth, rose gold band hanging around his chest—dangling loosely on a silver chain? Well that was the reason you were currently sitting in a car in the dead of night.

Lemon was no fool. The moment he had seen you pull out that small gift box for his brother last week, he had recognized that love sick smile on your face. The way your eyes shone with excitement as you practically bounced on the balls of your feet when he went to open it. Lemon should be able to recognize it after all. It was the same look Tangerine got anytime you entered the room.

It was antagonizing for him really. Watching the both of you harbor crushes for each other in your own ways. (Tangerine; constantly checking for texts from you when he was away, using more than enough loving nicknames for you just to see your ears grow red. You; buying anything and everything that reminded you of him, doodling little drawings of the man on the corner of your loose leaf nktebooks at briefings before quickly erasing them.)

Finally he had had enough, pulling you off to the side last night. He had been a bit too rough about it for his liking, but it didn't matter now.

"Here's the plan." He didn't even stop to acknowledge your confused expression, questions surely bubbling on the tip of your tongue. "I'm sick. Very sick. You're not. Tha' stake out tomorrow night? You're goin' on it mate."

"The fuck Lemon?"

"Mate, just trust me. I know you fancy m' brother. Just take th' opportunity."

He had taken your stunned silence as a yes, giving you his best smile before moving on like nothing had happened.

So far, that was the only thing you had been able to focus on the entire time you'd been sitting idle on this hill. Not your target or his friends' late night activity you were supposed to be monitoring. Just re-running things over and over in your mind until you were dizzy with the effort.

All the times you had tried to be subtle with the longing looks and sporadic gifts. All the nights you had lay wide awake staring at the ceiling. Wondering if it would even be possible for someone like him to love you back. How did Lemon know? Were you really that obvious? Did anyone else know?

More importantly, did Tangerine know?

"Alright. S' going on in that lil head of yours (Y/n). Been quiet all night. Not like you."

Tangerine was now facing you. Arm draped around the back of your seat as if preparing to back out of a parking space. Heat from his hand radiated mere inches from your neck, but you pushed your shiver down with a forceful swallow.

"The mission." You shrugged, not moving your gaze from its spot on the window. Hoping that your response would be the end of this conversation.

"Yeah right." Tangerine just snorted. "You've never cared for these kinds of jobs love."

You forced the butterfly in your stomach to be killed off one by one. Refusing to be affected by the nickname.

"Guess I do now." Your shoulders moved with the effort of another shrug.

Tangerines mouths dipped down into a slight frown. He had been looking forward to a night alone with you. Maybe even going to get some food afterwards, even if just under the guise of two friends having a meal together. He would take it. He would take anything involving you at that point if he was being truthful.

Calloused fingers gently cradled your chin, softly gripping it as Tangerine turned your head to face him. You finally got a proper look at him, seeing the way his baby blue eyes rippled with concern as they traced unseeable patterns on your face. You were so focused on his intense stare that you forgot to remind yourself not to lean into his hand.

"You alright love?"

It would be so easy to kiss him. Just a little stretch of your neck and—

"I'm fine." His hand fell away from your face as you jerked yourself away. You almost immediately regretted it, wanting nothing more to feel him against you for a moment more.

"(Y/n)—"

"I'm just peachy Tan." You snapped, suddenly feeling angry. "Can we get back to our jobs now? You know. The thing we came here to do?"

Tangerine felt his own face flare up with anger. A rare feeling when it came directed at you.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He frowned with a bit more bite to his tone than he intented. The sound of it made a flicker of regret cross your face before it was replaced with a scowl. "Seriously, who fucken pissed in your oatmeal this mornin?"

"Oh like you don't fucking know." Your own teeth grit against each other as you glared at him. The both of you now locked in a heated staring match. It wouldn't be a suprise if the windows started to fog up. The car certainly seemed like it was a lot hotter than it had been a few minutes ago.

"What, so I can fucken read your mind now?" He ran a hand through his hair in a jerky movement. The way your heart fluttered at his disheviled state drove another molten spike of rage into your heart, frustrated with yourself for finding him attractive even in the middle of an argument.

"Sometimes I really hate you Tan." You hissed. How it had gotten to this point you had no idea. But each word was like a nail to the heart for you.

"Yeah? Well, you're not exactly a joy ta be around all the time either, sunshine."

"And that's another thing!" You were full on yelling now, probably looking like a crazy person to any passing cars as you threw your hands in the air. "Stop fucking calling me those names! I bet you think you can just charm your way into anyone's pants with that huh?"

"When the fuck did I ever say anything like that!? And I thought you liked the nicknames for fucks sake!"

"I do!" You hissed with clenched fists. "The problem is I like them too fucking much! I like you too fucking much Tan! And it's killing me knowing I can't do a single goddamn thing about it!"

It was only after it was already out there did you realize what you had really said.

"Fuck. Listen—"

You didn't get any farther than that before Tangerine slammed his lips into your own. A sound of muffled suprise made it past your lips before it was quickly swallowed by him, along with the rest of your breath. The faint feeling of something prickly ticking your upper lip sang in your head as you realized it was his mustache, resulting in a silent sort of laughter. Teeth clicked against each other harshly before you reached up to rest a hand on his jaw and the other in his hair, steadying his pace to a softer, more tender one.

He only broke away in time for you to notice how fuzzy your head was becoming at the lack of oxygen. Gasping for breath, you brushed a hand over your lips. As if checking to make sure that had really just happened. Or maybe to keep the moment bottled up forever, solidifying it with the graze of your fingers.

Both of you took a moment, panting for breath as a way to fill the silence.

"Did you just—?"

"Yeah."

"Did we just—?"

"Sure did."

"And that means you're—?"

"If you ask anymore questions I might have to kiss you again (Y/n)."

The smile in his voice shone through. You allowed yourself one as well, eyes watering.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that for." The englishman sighed, resting his elbows on his thighs as he watched you stare star struck at him. "Please tell me I didn't seriously misread the situation there." He added on as an afterthought with a chuckle, already knowing the answer as he looked deep into your eyes.

"I'm sorry Tangerine." The sudden apology left you with a breathy quality. Tears were threatening to fall at a rapid pace now, one or two escaping. You couldn't tell if they were from remorse or joy. "I didn't mean that. Any of it."

"What about th' part where you confessed your undying love for me?"

He laughed as you went to hit him in the chest playfully, noting how the tears in the corner of your eyes began to disappear.

"You know what I meant. And I did no such thing." Your efforts to conceal a smile were fruitless for once. "You just got lucky this time."

"This time?" He reached a hand out to brush the pad of his thumb across your cheek with a sudden fondness. "Nah. Been plenty lucky for a while now, love."

"Sap." You mummbled, closing your eyes with a sigh as he continued to leave soft strokes against your skin.

"Just for you darling."

You really would have to thank Lemon when you got back home.

#tangerine x y/n #tangerine x you #tangerine x reader #tangerine bullet train #bullet train tangerine #bullet train x y/n #bullet train x you #bullet train x reader #bullet train imagine #tangerine imagine #tangerine #bullet train #lemon #fluff #x reader #one shot

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jun-hug · 1 year

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dream team art school! au

Doodles that inspired me to write a little drabble fic :)

ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ

This was Georges biggest project,

okay maybe biggest project this semester... or last 2 months, either way the assignment occupied boys attention for couple last weeks, especially this week. That's why his two best friends were so eager to meet up, it felt like they haven't seen him in so long yet they go to same university. When brunette texted on their group chat asking for a hand with a photoshoot he haven't even blinked an eye before they eagerly agreed.

What's even more exciting, boys haven't seen George's project yet! The oldest kept it a secret to "prevent the leaks" because apart from it being his assignment it was also an entry to one of his most ambitious fashion competitions. The fashion awards of all US fine arts universities. He had high hopes for it.

"Alright I'm almost ready, remember to put the ISO to 200, I borrowed those lights for a reason!” Georges words were a little muffled but still understandable as he worked on setting his design as perfectly as it could get.

"Got it Gogs, come on we don't have a whole day!” they did, their classes finished at 11am today and it was Friday so they were free for the next days. Sapnap was just eager to see the boys creation, after all he put all his heart into it, like he does to all his projects. "Actually we do" Dream interjected, youngest only glared at him knowing damn well he's as impatient considering constant taps on his thigh.

"Yeah Sap idiot, we have all day.. but you're right, it's better if the light from outside is still at it's best." he finally emerged from behind the wardrobe curtain. Okay. The boys were stunned it's not that George usually doesn't look like goddess himself - that's far from truth actually. It's just that this time they're seeing his art mixed with all his grace and beauty. Sapnap manages to whisper little "Oh god" only for Dream to hear, as the tallest boy starts "You-”

The baby blue glowy shirt, ornamented with flowered embroidery makes his face look soft, bringing out his strawberry cheeks and eyes hinted with a bit of peachy shadow. It all contrasts, yet fits without fault with a long, red, mermaid cut skirt. It's flowy, the material decorated with blue beads in the shape of hearts- And oh-

Dream gasps, Sapnap inhales loudly. Fishnets, George is wearing fishnets and the cut in the thigh is so high it shows his left leg fully. good christ, they are so down bad. Sapnap eyes Dream and They can really just see how both of them are fully raspberry blown faces.

They are both hot. red.

And The brunet who's the one and only cause is clearly oblivious to their reaction as he innocently asks "so how does it look?", makes a gesture with hands showing of the sleeves and frills on the skirt.

"I- you, it's well, George, it's so beautiful you look amazing." Dream exhaled eyes still on him, almost not blinking.

"George it truly is gleaming - I mean the colour palette for this one??? Ms Chevreu will loose her shit when she sees this! You actually are so skilled holy smokes” Sapnap added still admiring his friend's piece.

"awe thank you! I hope she looses her shit to be honest that would be funny, she's into reds recently so I think she will" boy snickered, his cheeks visibly tinted, not only from blush he applied couple minutes ago.

"alright!" he clapped his hands "time for shoot!"

Youngest set the light, while dark blond took photos to fill the entire SIM card folder. Taking that George was /very/ photogenic it was easy to catch the best shots, it's almost like he looks perfect in all of them. George is perfect tho, Dream thinks.

"Okay I think we're done, I took pictures from every side I think" Dream announced as George stretched "gods yes please my back is starting to hurt so bad" as to emphasize that he popped his bones ”ew George don't do that” Sapnap made a face.

"what do you mean you are the worst back popper I've met. Hearing only a scoff in response from other boy George's half lidded eyes closed for a little while.

"He's meditating guys!” Dream squeeked in one of his mocking voices, George giggled "he's died!"

"Okay, that's it I'm checking the photos!" Sapnap yanked the camera from the tallest's hands and plopped on one of the puff poufs. "Hey be careful you goose! this camera only cost me 5 and a half months of cafeshop money!” Dream hurried with scolding

George got up slowly and joined the youngest, soon enough all three of them were slumped on floor, brit in the middle looking and commenting on photos. "Hey guys.." brunet started, causing Dream and Sapnap turning to him.

"yeah?" dark brunette asked.

"thank you... for supporting me, like not only this time but at all" he turned his eyes from both pairs of theirs. Then he cupped each cheek and gave it a short kiss.

Boys blushed, all three of them.

"Yeah no problem Gogs, we'll always be your biggest fans" Sapnap breathed out.

"Always" Dream repeated.

And if for the rest of the day boys only watched movies all cuddled up on couch, snacking on anything they found in brunets kitchen, that was on them.

thank you for reading ♡

hugs,

Jun

#georgenotfound fanart #georgenotfound #dream fanart #dreamwastaken #sapnap fanart #sapnap #dreamnotnap #dnn #dream team #dream team fanfic #gnf #dtqk #mcyt #gnf fanart #doodle #art school au #drabble #dreamnotnap fic #jun arts

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thatslikely · 3 years

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Frosting On Your Nose - R.W.

Frosting On Your Nose- Ron Weasley x fem!reader

Warnings: marriage (to Ron), mentions of having a kid, food.

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: this has been an idea of mine forver, here it is. writing for ron is actually kinda fun! i’ve been feeling really bad about my writing lately, so I’m glad at least to churn something out. also I renamed Ron’s son because Hugo is not it

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @probably-peeves @anchoeritic @theweasleytwinsgirl

if you want to be added, send me an ask or dm!

“I can’t believe our Benny’s already turning one year old! Feels like he was born just yesterday, doesn’t it, love?” Ron asked you from across the messy, crumb-coated kitchen, his chiseled hands steadily whisking a muckle of creamy, vanilla frosting in a bowl.

“Time really does fly when you’re having fun, I suppose,” you replied while carefully selecting a fistful of small food dye vials of various shades of the rainbow. The blank, white frosting will soon brilliantly decorate the rich chocolate cake cooling on the windowsill, basking in the sun’s lazy, late-afternoon rays.

Silence soon rose into the bright, cozy room like the soothing morning tide of the sea, calm and comfortable. Ron continued to rhythmically stir the batch of uncolored frosting while you had moved on to preparing various crystalline piping bags, selectively choosing each fine metal tip.

Inexorably, Ron soon removed the metal whisk from the bowl, long, red tongue out and ready to kitten-lick some of the deliciously sweet frosting off the whisk’s wired loops. “Ronnie, you better not be eating any of that frosting! It’s for Benny’s cake, remember,” you smoothly reminded the sweet-toothed redhead opposite you, not even needing to gaze at him to know what he had planned.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” Ron denied innocently, placing the whisk back into the bowl inconspicuously. You ambled over to the tall ginger for a quick progress check, pleased to see that the frosting was now mixed to perfection, its texture silky smooth and ready for piping. You swiped your finger on the rim of the bowl, accumulating a dollop of the fluffy cream, before nonchalantly sticking it into your mouth with a pop. “Hey! You can have frosting, but I can’t, huh? That’s not fair.”

“Life’s not fair, Ronnie-kins. But I’ll let you have all the leftovers after the cake is done, deal?”

“Fine,” - he grumbled - “deal. Now what colours are we gonna frost this mouth-watering cake?”

Countless rough sketches and outlines of adorable cakes filled the smudged papers of your notebook, the same one you doodled in since your Hogwarts days. You gingerly handed Ron the dog-eared bundle of bound papers, pointing at your favorite sketches and concepts, most of which included bright colours and childish smiley faces galore. The final design of the soon-to-be Benny’s first birthday cake was circular and slathered in white frosting, dotted with yellow and orange suns wearing wide-mouthed grins, which popped against frosted sky-blue ribbons. Little spherical sprinkles added miniature bursts of colour to the central letters of the cake which read, “Happy First Birthday Benny!” in flawless, fluid cursive writing.

“Wow, I didn’t know you had such a knack for drawing, sweetheart. Benny’s cake’ll look amazing, as long as you’re the one doing all those tiny details.”

“You’re not that bad at sketching yourself. We’ll pipe it together, but I’ll be sure to do the lettering. Don’t think I didn’t see your awful handwriting back on all your old Divination homework.”

“It was only that bad because I hated the class! It always smelled like old-lady perfume and Trelawney was a nutter!”

“She was better than Snape, at least.”

Ron gave you a concurring nod, his unkempt mop of ginger hair fluffing up and down with the movement. You suppressed a giggle at his charming, goofy grin you’d come to love before squeezing droplets of brilliantly-coloured food dye into the small basins of peaked, milky-white frosting.

Ron gently clamped his large, vermillion-freckled hand over yours’, guiding your wrist in circular stirring motions to tint the heaps of icing. Ron’s chin rested on the crown of your head, his warm breath blowing strands of your hair to obscure your gorgeous, light-catching eyes. You paid no attention to the falling tresses of hair, instead you absorbed the familiar sensation of being held in Ron’s delicate arms; the knits and stitches of his homemade maroon sweater caressed your skin.

Once the pigmented frosting was tightly wrapped in the metal-tipped piping bags, you daubed a thin crumb-coat onto the layered cake. When the coat had settled, cementing the loose specks of brown to the sponge, you smoothed on another layer of frosting, this time making it a silky, uncreased layer.

Soon enough, Ron was concentratedly piping an (uneven) border of blue around the base of the cake. Even though his strokes of frosting were messy, you admired his effort. His effort that was made quite prominent by the tip of his tongue poking out from his soft lips in focus, his minimally-blinking blue eyes glued to the slowly revolving cake.

“Honey, you did a splendid job. I’m so proud of you.” You pulled in a triumphant Ron for a tight, loving hug, twirling your fingers through his messy ginger hair. You were quick to notice little ivory specks of frosting was strewn through his fluffy locks. “How’d you manage to get frosting in your hair, silly?”

“It’s just part of the process of being a great baker, I guess.”

You both let out airy chuckles, your faces inching closer and closer. He finally pulled you by the hem of your apron into a sloppy, languid kiss, each succumbing to the familiar sensations of each other’s lips. The sensation you felt all those years ago after he confessed his love for you on a chilly night at Hogwarts, the sensation you felt dressed in a stunning sea of white on the day of your wedding, the sensation of his lips after looking at your son for the first time.

In quite a few minutes, after lingering kisses and tear-jerking memories came and went, you were back in the present, the clocks still ticking forward, finishing up the piping. You trimmed the sponge with varicoloured stripes and ribbons, meticulously spacing them out to perfection.

After the last pinch of beads of sprinkles fell atop the cake like bittersweet summer rain, the cake was finally complete. It looked adorable, exactly like the baked goods that would be proudly displayed in the window of a bakery. Ron gave you a goofy high five (which was commonplace) in celebration; after your hands smacked together, he wrapped his fingers around your palm, your hand dwarfed by his’.

“You did a wonderful job, love. Everyone at his party’ll be dying to try a slice!” he praised, pulling you to his chest for a hug.

You pulled back to glance up at his handsome face with doe eyes, his features illuminated by the golden, waning sunlight. Before you could give him a sweet reply and subsequent peck on his lips, he stated with a laugh, “Y/N, you have frosting on your nose.”

You retracted your hand from his sweater-clad chest, dipping your pointer finger into the leftover stash of glistening frosting before briskly smudging a streak of white across Ron’s sun-freckled nose, teasing, “now you do, too.”

“Oh, you’re in for it now!” Ron exclaimed mischievously, coating his hands into the bowl of sugary fluff, desperately attempting to slather your nose in white further. As the sunlight gradually faded away, and the moon elusively bathed your quaint house in pale beams, the evening was pin-drop silent and peaceful, except for the light, scampering footsteps and fearful giggling of you and your doting husband.

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trashboatprince · 4 years

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I saw a challenge to write something sexy about Mr. Harrison and Mr. Cortese from this post by @naniiebimworks and I’m not missing the chance to make content of them in written form. Love me some Crowley and Aziraphale’s personas.

Summery: Warlock is too old for his nanny, but he’s not too old to start having a private tutor. Make that two tutors, who happen to look a bit like the nanny and the gardener who followed her off the grounds.

And already there’s something going on between them.

AKA Crowley and Aziraphale are really into how the other looks for this next phase of the plans.

Warning: these two are already in a relationship. Not full on content, but there is touching and such, gotta keep it pg-13 cause some of my followers are young. Also, not beta’d, so forgive the grammar errors

EDIT: There’s an extra mature chapter on ao3

On with the fic!

Nanny Ashtoreth put in her two weeks without much of a fuss, politely telling the Dowlings that young Warlock had no need for her anymore, it was time for him to get his lessons from a professional and not a nanny who was smarter than expected.

She recommended someone she said she had worked with previously, that he was highly recommended.

The day after she departed from the estate, there was a knock at the door and a tall, sharp man in an even sharper, dark suit stood there, carrying a briefcase under his arm. “I’m Mr. Harrison,” he greeted the doorman with a voice that dared him to say something, “Nanny Ashtoreth told me that this is where I would I be teaching.”

Without waiting, he stepped past the doorman and into the foyer, where he greeted Mrs. Dowling, who stepped down the stairs to greet him.

Mr. Harrison reminded her greatly of Nanny, that they looked rather similar. The same red colored hair, same facial structure, though clearly Harrison his sharp cheek bones under a beard.

“We’re cousins.” He told her simply, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

He would start his lessons with Warlock tomorrow at nine.

The next morning, while Mr. Harrison was teaching Warlock his first lessons on the ancient armies of the world, there was yet another knock at the door.

The doorman was surprised to see a man with wild, near-white hair and an equally wild beard standing there, smiling. He was dressed in creams and golds, a stark contrast to the clothing of the other man who had been at the door the day before. “Good morning!” He greeted the poor employee with a Welsh tint to his voice. “I am Mr. Cortese, I was hired to be the private tutor to Warlock Dowling.”

“Uhh…” The doorman blinked, before making himself professional. “I am so sorry to inform you that Mrs. Dowling has already hired a tutor yesterday.”

“Oh?” Mr. Cortese asked, eyebrows raised high as he glanced about past the man, as if looking for the person who took his job. “I am sure that the young boy wouldn’t mind two instructors.”

The man at the door sighed and said he would get his boss to speak to the stranger. Ten minutes later, Mrs. Dowling hired Mr. Cortese to be Warlock’s second tutor, taking two days of the week and sharing one with his coworker.

She took note that he reminded her of someone, but she wasn’t sure. Sort of like the weird gardener who happened to leave right after Nanny Ashtoreth did, but house staff come and go.

“… And that, young Warlock, is why one must not draw on his books, you never know what their worth will be in the future.” Cortese sighed loudly as he finished with erasing the last of the doodles the young boy had drawn on the open pages of the history book in front of him.

“I thought it made it look cool.” Warlock replied in his defense and Cortese nearly rolled his eyes before removing his pocket watch from his vest pocket, looking at the time.

“Right, well, it seems that our lesson for history is over for today. Off you go, enjoy your hour break. When you return, we shall begin our coverage of literature.” He waved a hand towards the door and Warlock didn’t need to be told twice to run off for fun, there was a video game with his name on it that he couldn’t keep waiting any longer.

Cortese watched him run out of the room with a small huff, smiling as he started to clean up the books and papers on the table of the building’s library where he was to do his lessons. He paused when he smelled something, a strong cologne that covered a natural, demonic musk that he knew all too well. “Mr. Harrison, I assume?” He turned to meet the man who he had yet to be introduced to since arriving yesterday.

Leaning against a bookcase, Cortese stared from behind his reading glasses, feeling his face heat up just a bit as he looked at his counterpart.

Harrison was in a dark suit, fitting of him, opened jacket and tie just a bit loose. The angel inwardly cursed as he looked at how the other had styled his hair, pulled back in a tight short ponytail. He hadn’t seen Crowley since they left the estate, wanting to get themselves ready for their next personas.

Seems that Crowley miracled up a beard that looked too good on him, the littlest of changes to the demon always got something stirring in Aziraphale, be it a new haircut or the addition of facial hair.

And he did a combo, damn him.

Clearing his throat, Cortese straightened himself up, adjusting his jacket. “I almost didn’t get the job because of you.” He told the redhead, who only smirked, crossing his arms.

“You’d have gotten it anyway, and look, you did! Come on, you knew I was gonna show up first, made it less… suspicious, if we both showed up at the same time.” Pushing himself off of the bookshelf, Harrison sauntered over to partner in this scheme, the smirk turning more playful as he stepped around Cortese, looking him up and down behind dark lenses.

He stopped behind the shorter man, who froze up at the eyes that he felt on his backside, those hungry eyes…

“Nice suit,” Harrison commented, “suits you, love the colors. Golds and creams? A change of pace from the tartan.”

“Oh!” Cortese turned sharply, giving him a hard stare. “Must I repeat myself? Tartan is stylish! But, if you must know, I decided to change it up a bit. I do wear other clothing you know, Mr. Harrison.”

Harrison looked at him, before shrugging. “Of course, just… can’t help admirin’ how good you look when you mix it up a bit.” He was suddenly closer, when had he gotten so close? Cortese stepped back, feeling his backside bump against the table, he was pinned.

“You need to dress up more, angel.” Harrison then frowned before chuckling. “No, don’t do that, you become too much of a tease when you step out of the norm.” He toyed with the silk tie that Cortese wore, slowly, carefully loosening it as he tugged down on the knot with one finger.

Cortese’s face flared up red as a heat pooled in his stomach. “M-Mr. Harrison! You wily man, behave yourself!” He swatted at the hand. “You should be professional!”

“Oh please,” The demon rolled his eyes before leaning in closer, “it’s not like we didn’t have our fun as the nanny and the gardener, yeah? Won’t take these fools long to start rumors about us as well…”

Cortese paused, looking at Harrison’s face. Right, they had been a bit adventurous and frisky with one another when in their previous personas, what’s the harm of having a little fun as two tutors? It was like something out of his romance section, but he wouldn’t voice that out loud.

“We waited a few months as Ashtoreth and Francis before we got handy, my dear.” He finally replied and Harrison groaned.

“Wow, way to be a real buzzkill, angel!” He moved to step back, but Harrison found himself in place, hands on his hips that suddenly were pressed against Cortese’s. “Whu-?”

“Who said we weren’t going to have any fun?” The blond scoffed. “Besides…” There was a snap of fingers and Harrison heard a lock set in place.

Cortese leaned in close to his ear, he could practically hear the smug smile in the other’s voice. “We have less than an hour before my next lesson and I’d like to get my ‘coworker’ a bit better. Is that alright with you?”

The string of sounds from Harrison was all Cortese needed as an answer.

Someone, Harrison found himself flipped around, his own back pressed into the table with the angel pinning him to it, kissing him hard on the lips. Any coherent thoughts in the redhead’s mind were thrown out the window as he was snogged into next week, wrapping his legs around soft hips.

He pulled back, panting a bit as he looked at the hazel eyes that stared right at him. “Damn, angel, you’re in a mood.”

“You’re a terrible tease, dressing up like this.” Cortese huffed, kissing at his neck before working on undoing the already-loose knot of Harrison’s tie. “You know I love seeing you dressed up.”

“Mmm… sssshould do it more often than…” Harrison tilted his head back, lifting his hand up to snap his fingers, but a hand stopped him. “Come on, don’t go slow…” He groaned.

“No, I want to take it slow, I’m not going to just have your clothes vanish on me!” Cortese scoffed as he pulled back to start working on removing the suit jacket, taking note that he rather liked the pattern on it, Crowley needed to wear more patterns in his wardrobe.

Harrison pouted before his own fingers got to work on unbuttoning the vest Cortese wore, legs still firmly in place around the other’s waist. “How far?”

“Hmm… heavy petting?”

There was a loud snort. “Who taught you that?!” Harrison laughed before undoing the last button. He looked at the other man, a coy smile on his face. “Lovin’ the changes, angel. You look so good with that hair, almost feral, very you.”

“What on Earth are you talking about?”

“Just commentin’.” Harrison mumbled as he pulled him down, talking against the other’s lips before kissing him hard. Cortese mumbled a reply that fell on deaf ears, the two clearly distracted be kissing and the sneaky fingers playing with the tie the other wore.

Both were discarded on the table, and Harrison was vaguely aware that his hair had slipped from the ponytail it had been in. He would have made a comment, but he was distracted by perfectly manicured fingers playing with his freed hair, and by the body that pressed against him.

His own fingers busied themselves with groping a rather nice, soft bottom, earning a squeak from the angel who was still toying with his hair. Harrison smirked, pressing down on the ample flesh, keeping Cortese against him as he moved to suck on the exposed skin of his advisory’s neck.

The room felt hot and both angel and demon were feeling even hotter, fingers moving here and there, but never to what was going to be wanting some attention. Well, Harrison thought, time to change that-

There was a sharp set of knocks at the doors to the library and Cortese pulled back sharply from Harrison, losing his balance and dropping to the floor at the sudden intrusion.

“Ssshit!” Harrison sat up straight and worked quickly to straighten out his shirt, trying to button it back up from where Cortese had popped a few of the buttons.

“Y-yes? Who’s there?” Cortese called out.

“Mr. Cortese,” came Warlock’s voice from the other side, “can I come in?”

“In a moment!” The blond replied before trying to get his vest and shirt back in order. “Oh, this was a bad idea…!” He whispered towards the other man in the room, who was trying to get his hair back into place.

“Yeah, yeah, I know! Gotta wait until the kid’s asleep, ‘r somethin’…” Harrison jumped from the table, throwing on his coat, then grabbing a tie, tossing the other at Cortese who was quick to try and get it done up.

Once Harrison thought he had everything in order, he rushed to the door, the lock suddenly undone and the door opened to reveal Warlock, standing there with a confusion on his face. “We’ll continue our discussion of the plans later, yes, Mr. Cortese?” He spoke, as if nothing had just happened, outside of the flushed look on his cheeks and the rumpled state of his clothes.

“Y-yes, of course, do come looking for me when you have the chance, Mr. Harrison.” Cortese replied, swallowing as he straightened his jacket out. He watched the other man walk past Warlock without much word and turned to the child. “Yes, did you need something?” He asked, trying to act like Warlock did not just interrupt something.

“Wonderin’ if I left my phone in here.” Warlock replied before tilting his head. “How come you’re wearin’ Mr. Harrison’s tie?”

Cortese looked down, seeing that, yes, he was wearing the dark colored tie.

This was gonna be a long next couple of years.

END

They make up for lost time later, but make sure that it’s when no one will bother them. >.>

Anyway, first time every writing for Harrison and Cortese that wasn’t them as the Radio Omens boys, it was fun.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #anthony j crowley #aziraphale #mr harrison #mr cortese #john's drabbles

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nell0-0 · 3 years

Text

One day (you learn to let go) #2

Idea adopted from Firehedgehog's Idea Factory!

A very long time ago, Fate grabbed a Sans and twisted him into Error.

Every 25-100 years, Fate's magic wanes and Error transforms back into his past self. The only thing this Sans knows is that he seems to be skipping through time.

Ink, meanwhile, is the only one that knows what's going on as Error doesn't remember when his true self, Geno, wakes up.

Ink tastes freedom (Fate's magic wanes)

"And don't come back here!" shouted a Sans to Ink, who was grinning sheepishly while covered in head to metatarsal in paint and jumping through a portal to Dreamtale, headed towards Dream's house.

It was so not his fault that copy #34 of Sugartale didn't enjoy his suggestions in decorations, edible colors only lasted so long, it was better to use the normal ones if you wanted them to come out just right! It wasn't like it was poisoning... much. So what if it poisoned normal monsters to an extent, being extremely worse to humans?

He could create the item with the right colors and it being edible, but redecorating with pre-existing stuff was so boring to the artist sometimes. Where was the innovation? The curiosity to explore new possibilities in the world of art?

Ink sighed. Sadly, he knew it wasn't possible for him to do so in a new AU, Fate's forced rate of creation was too much. The constant rush, the screaming, the anguish. It was oppressing, his soul feeling like it would scatter at last. Then again, maybe even that wouldn't be enough to kill him, to free the Forced God of Creation from Fate's hold. Breaking his soul in fragments himself didn't free him at all. He didn't die, like everyone he knows would, so what would his soul fragments escaping like handfuls of sand from his own being do?

Would he end up as a puppet that deity would have full control of? A lifeless doll moved by strings invisible for everyone? Would he end up as a soulless being, accomplice of Fate's cruelty without having the ability to care about the people he knew?

Ink didn't know, and that prospect terrified him. So he always pushed himself more and more, because if he didn't, the white string from Fate surrounding the culmination of his being could snap and it would be so much worse. For everyone. For Dream, his trusted friend and companion. For Blue, who he knew secretly cheered up Error thinking no one noticed. For all the Sanses he knew, even the Bad Sanses.

Would he be able to stop if he didn't have his emotions? Stop before things got out of control? Ink didn't think so, being almost soulless was a complicated affair, he didn't want to think too deeply about the possibility of loosing what little emotions he still had.

And then there was Error, who only had the Bad Sanses and Blue on his side. But he didn't dare tell a soul about his friend helping the supposed foe. He knew that Error was just like him, in a sense. He had known it even all that time ago when both met for the first time, the imprint of Fate's presence painfully clear for both to see around them. Ink secretly cheered for the Underswap Sans every time he went away to meet with the Destroyer, even covered for him when Stretch started wondering where his brother was.

Hell, Ink once created a copy of Underswap and grabbed the Sans from there to pacify Stretch. Sure, he dusted the Sans afterwards so that copy of his friend couldn't tell anyone, but it was the intention what counted, right? And it wasn't like he couldn't get away with it, just a bit of adjusting and the AU didn't even notice something was wrong because they didn't have one of the key characters.

There! New AU! He was such a genius.

Ink was glad he could feel so many things. Anger, joy, sadness. Even if he knew the state his soul was in made him a bit of a weirdo, he didn't care. It was enough for him that he could care for his friends the Star Sanses and Error, his friends!

Because they were friends and Ink wouldn't accept any other option. He just had to manage to get that fact through Error's stubborn skull. The other had it even worse than him, being so hated through the Multiverse because of what they were forced to do and all that.

It wasn't like the artist didn't try to help. Every time he tried to shout someone to stop, to tell why they shouldn't attack the glitch, the words got stuck on his metaphorical throat and wouldn't pass his teeth. His movements became heavy, his thoughts shutting down and his soul felt numb. One time Ink even blacked out. Almost gave Dream an aneurysm with how much panic the other had in him that day.

It had been a long time since then, but that passing out incident was imprinted in his mind like it had been yesterday. Ink didn't want to think of the implications, but was avoiding every topic that made him uncomfortable any way to live? He had so many things to fear and angst over it was a miracle he wasn't just a lump on his sofa.

That day, instead of seeing black like everyone when passing out, Ink saw white. Just white. White hands, white face, white eyes. White background that melted everything together. Ink shuddered, remembering the memory. Next thing he knew, he was above a heavily injured Error, Broomie at the ready to give the final hit necessary to dust the other.

His hands trembled even now, when recalling that memory.

Error had looked genuinely scared of him, his expression... Ink couldn't give it a description, he didn't understand such complex emotions stirring through his counterpart's eye-lights.

The cheering Sans behind, the gold light surrounding him from below, the light cascading in the Judgement Hall... It reminded him too much of the Doodle Sphere, where he listened to Fate beating down the other Voice's into submission, only leaving alone the one's who went along with them. The yellow tint, the white i his vision, the voice of the Sans from behind him somewhere Ink wasn't able to see at the moment.

Ink had ended up throwing red paint at that Sans, dusting him instantly.

He felt his breath shallowing and gulped. He remembered standing there too, just breathing and backing away from the fallen Error, who kept staring at Ink with such complicated emotions.

In the end, Error had gone away, leaving Ink with inner turmoil and a stretched hand, as if reaching for the black-boned skeleton and explain that he wasn't himself. Something else, someone else, took hold of him and almost dusted his friend.

Trembling, he had looked at his shaking hands with something akin to horror. He could almost see the gray dust in between his phalanges, making them feel crusty and rubbing in his joints, the grainy substance eroding the bones.

He would never risk it again, he just couldn't. So he never attempted to speak up that much again, even if guilt stirred in him when Error's clothes moved in just the right way, letting him see the extent of the damage on his counterpart's body. And yet... That loss of control, the powerlessness and waking up in such a way...

Ink had feared white ever since.

White meant pain. White meant rushing everywhere, feeling the silent and controlling gaze upon him at all times. A continuous threat. White meant her.

White meant Fate.

____________________

Dream had ended up kicking out Ink. Again.

Which, rude! He just set the other's kitchen on fire once, it was progress when compared to other times. It wasn't like the time he set fire to the whole house just by burning toast because he forgot he put them on the pan. Or like the time he tried boiling a pre cooked soup with potato and left it there for three hours while he was playing a solitary game on the livingroom.

Dream didn't seem to agree with Ink on that.

At least Dreamtale had sunlight and fresh air, not at all like the Underground Ink could usually find himself in. It was a nice change of pace, he supposed.

It was a summer day, the heat boring down upon the Forced God of Creation. Bright sun, fresh air. Just like your usual Surface timeline, easy to get lost in its simple beauty and simplicity because of the freedom it offered when compared to the cavern system of the Underground.

He looked around, seeing the black spots where grass was burned years ago and vegetation just seemed too weak to grow on them. It was a testament to the twins' battle, the one that ended up with a feral Nightmare attacking everyone and everything and Dream as a stone statue.

Ink still hadn't gotten how that felt out of Dream. If he had more time, the artist would try to replicate the feeling by turning himself into a statue. Sadly, it would have to wait... forever.

Shame. Ink wanted to get stoned as well.

Ink sighed, such a shame. The rays of the sun shined on Ink's eye-sockets, distracting him. A bit annoyed, he tried to protect his vision with his arm and scrunched his face. When that didn't work as expected, he just turned to look at the broken remains of the Tree of Feelings, his back to where the sun was.

They really did a number on it, the poor spirit trapped there never stood a chance. Still, Ink thought this kind of AU was still a good idea. It could get away with so many changes and twists, so many possibilities when the world was an open field. Simple lives, simple rules that still managed to get off the rails. He would love to create another world like Dreamtale one of these days, maybe changing it up so it followed a completely different story instead.

Ink smiled, a flutter of nervous giddiness coming from his soul. Ink thought that was such a good idea. But he probably wouldn't be able to pull a stunt similar to Dreamtale anytime soon. A common AU, just for the sake of the rest of the Multiverse dwellers.

Maybe he would just try and avoid anything balance related, even if it could take a bit of the pressure on his chest off a bit.

That's when he felt it. A tug, a moment, a mere second, of what Ink could just describe as true freedom.

His heavily damaged soul felt lighter, the colors seemed more vivid and everything changed its tune, his tattoos humming with power he didn't know they could have, nervous and excited chatter from Voices he just barely remembered filling his mind. He stumbled, overwhelmed, and the moment passed.

... what was that?

____________________

"Error! Stop destroying this AU!" Ink shouted, annoyed at the Destroyer. Couldn't the other just have destroyed one of his older and half-assed worlds? This one was just finished not even two hours ago and he had actually put effort in it!

"Shut it, squid!" Error glared at him which, rude much? Now that Ink thought about it, all his friends seemed to be rude. Except Blue, don't forget Blue. Ink felt a burn on his shoulder, an intense pain he only barely processed. Curiously, he looked at the red bone that pierced his bones and poked at it.

He probably should stop getting distracted when confronting Error.

Ink whined. "But Error, can't we talk this over some chocolate? I brought your favorite!"

Error actually seemed tempted. Ink took out the chocolate bar to wave it in the other's face. It seemed to be working.

"C'mon, you know you want it!"

"FINE!" Error snatched the chocolate, grumpy. Ink just chuckled at the cute demeanor of the Destroyer.

With a flourish, he summoned the reset button of the AU and adjusted it to a True Reset, so no memory of this event or even the Multiverse would be left. He pressed it and grinned towards Error.

"Show off."

In the end, Ink directed Error to a timeline called Underfallen. Just an Underfell rip off where monsters where actually very nice and mushy on the inside. He clapped when Error crushed the codes, a bit of a sting on his body as it happened and one of his tattoos disappearing.

With a tug on his soul, Ink grabbed Broomie and waved good bye to Error.

Back to creating it was.

____________________

Time had passed in a blur of creating, battling and pestering Error with friendship declarations since that time when Ink felt that freedom, that intensity in color and excited chatter. He almost thought it had been an illusion or hallucination of some kind. How he managed to remember it after so much time had passed was still a mystery to him, it had to have been almost twenty years by Multiverse standards.

But when he was in the middle of creating a mix of Underfell and Dancetale, one where Frisk was really a genocidal maniac in disguise who manipulated the Sans, it happened again. Ink recognized the feeling for what it was this time.

Fate loosing control of his puppet, the Creator.

He quickly changed to world down to its very core, being inspired by kind Voices and ideas that didn't want the characters to suffer too much or go rogue for once. He not only took the base elements, but created a whole original backstory, building up the world from basically scratch. It was such such a freeing feeling, such intensity, that Ink couldn't help but let out a delightful laugh.

The colors swirled around him, condensing in a sphere and letting a small explosion that pushed other AUs apart. It had become an original AU.

Ink couldn't believe he had felt it again, he was so excited. He had to tell Error, he just had to!

Ink started to open the portal to the Anti-Void, when the feeling passed once again. Back to the blandness, the coldness... The almost emotionless.

The Creator let all his magic intent disperse, pouting. At least he knew what was going on this time around. Maybe he should be on the look out for that feeling. it was over almost as soon as it came, but it gave him hope.

Hope to escape from Fate's clutches once and for all.

____________________

"Hey Error!" Ink called to the Forced God of Destruction seated on a dark blue bean bag. He quickly went over his friend and foe, dragging a light brown bean bag he had brought last time. The fact that Error didn't throw it on a random AU promising for the artist's mind.

In reality, the other hadn't even tried because he knew how whiny and persistent Ink could get when it came to his 'quality bonding time with his friend Error'. In summary, not fun for the black boned skeleton.

Ink hopped on his bean bag, looking up at Error with big eye-sockets. The Destroyer grumbled, disgruntled at being interrupted in the middle of his knitting. At least it hadn't been Undernovela marathon this time around.

"What do you want know" he grunted at Ink, trying to focus even more on his knitting so whatever the other said would come in one ear canal and leave the other.

Ink pouted a bit but shrugged. Whatever floated Error's boat, if the other wanted to be a grumpy cat imitation made skeleton, it was fine by the Creator.

"You could be at least a little happier to see me, I bring good news!"

Error sighed exasperated. Seemed like he would have to pay attention it was something important this time around. He just hoped Ink wouldn't start another rant about relationships and feelings or something along those lines, it always made Error's head spin.

Facing the white bones skeleton, Error frowned and set down the sweater he had been working on.

"Then spit it out" Error grumbled with a bossy attitude. "I don't have time for your bull crap."

"That's a lie and you know it" Ink said, teasingly.

Besides, it was true. If Error truly didn't have any free time he wouldn't be resting on the Anti-Void, nurturing one of the hobbies Ink approved of. So many pretty patterns! And no matter how small, there were always differences on the stuff Error created, so new and creative.

"So? Your point?"

Ink huffed but relented. "Okay, okay. So, you know how Fate has us caught with their strings by our souls?"

Error tensed, obviously uncomfortable with the topic. It was obvious he wanted to forget that for as long as he could. It was easier to pretend they chose the paths they had because of choice, not a deity manipulating their every move, but lying to oneself only worked to an extent.

"Of course I know, idiot, I'm funking living with it every day" Error barked, before adding softly in an angry whisper "and you aren't making it any better."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever" Ink waved the passive aggressiveness off. He was used to it and knew the other didn't really mean it, he was just moody. "My point is, haven't you ever felt that tight control waning?"

Error's face lost all his emotions, staring blankly at Ink. "If this is a joke, it's not funny, Ink."

"What? But-"

"Out" Error ordered, no room for discussion.

"Error, let me explain-"

"I SAID OUT."

Without a word, Ink left.

____________________

Time passed once more. Error had been particularly brutal after that exchange they had, so Ink didn't try to bring it up again. He was still curious about the feeling of freedom, since he got small flashes of it that were over in mere seconds or, if he was lucky, minutes. But he was unsure of what to do with it. He had been just creating and fighting for so long that it was like he had forgotten to just... stop, and smell the roses or some mushy stuff like that Dream always preached.

He tried it at first, to relax. But no matter how thoroughly 'Sans' Ink was, he couldn't bring himself to take a break. He used the free time to put markers on unstable AUs so Error would have an easier time doing his jobs, tormented Dream with his attempts at cooking (it was so hilarious to this point that Ink was thinking about just keeping it up on purpose) or wandering the AUs aimlessly.

Blue had sat Ink down on the Star Sanses base to give him a stern lecture after he had found the Creator walking on Underswap, looking lost on one of those occasions. Blue didn't want to say it out loud, but this behavior was worrying. He quickly called Dream to set up a sleepover, who agreed easily enough.

Ink denied the offer at first, Fate's hold still on the back of his mind, little bursts of freedom over too soon to properly do anything about them making him stumble and trip over his own words.

Blue used rope to tie Ink to a chair.

They had been enjoying themselves after Dream arrived, Ink getting lost on their antics and genuinely having fun when it happened once more. This time, the free sensation wasn't over in a flash.

Ink excused himself and went to his room as quickly as he could. He summoned his soul and noticed Fate's strings around his soul... waning.

This time, it lasted longer. Long enough for Ink to cry happily.

Yet it wasn't long enough for him to do anything about it just yet. He knew now, though. He needed to tell Error. But the other one hadn't mentioned anything about these episodes and had reacted so badly when he had brought it up...

The thought of Ink being free while Error wasn't... filled him with something akin to dread.

____________________

It had been another twelve years before Ink sensed it once more. There had been instances that came and went, too quick for him to process, so he didn't bother to count those, even if each one was cherished and hold close to his metaphorical heart.

Given his counterpart's reaction each time he had tried bringing up the topic, Ink had decided to wait until the next long episode to show Error what he discovered. With actual proof this time.

This was the day.

He went to the Anti-Void to tell him the good news while the effect still lasted.

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byunsbobobu · 4 years

Text

Blood Promise {Chapter 1}

Vampire Baekhyun AU

Pairing; Twin Baekhyun/BaekBaëk/Alana

Genre; vampire/ fantasy AU

Warnings for this chapter; angst, language, mentions of blood (smut in future chapters)

Prologue:

Word Count: 3863

- Synopsis: Vampires falling in love with humans was forbidden. That is until 18-year-old Alana Davis moves to town and attends the new boarding school; Hallows Boarding School. Unaware that vampires exist and that the school is home to both Vampires and humans. On one late night Alana stumbles upon two brooding and mysterious twin brothers, but little did she know they would soon change her life. Will it be for the worse or the better?}

** authors note; Hello! Welcome to my first chapter of this AU! Now I don’t want this story to be a cliché vampire au, so I challenged myself to make it better for you guys so you will enjoy reading it. This chapter is a little long, and I got a little carried away while writing it, so I apologize for it being so long. Baekhyun unfortunately doesn’t come in until later on in this chapter. Anyways, if anyone would like to be tagged in future updates for this story please let me know in the comments. Thank you! **

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

It was the first day of you starting at new school in a new country. To say you weren’t nervous would be a lie. You were very nervous in fact. Ever since arriving here last night you’ve had this weird feeling something was bound to happen, and you didn’t know whether it was good or bad. Getting up from bed, the soles of your feet touching the cold floor; making your way towards your window. The sunlight behind the curtains beamed through your bedroom. Slowly pushing the curtains open you look outside soaking in the beautiful scenery. Everything was covered in white snow. Glancing down you see what looks like a couple of elder’s drinking coffee and talking outside near the school gates; assuming it’s the staff; you look out into the school taking in the wide landscape of the school. It was surrounded by woods and nothing more. Beyond the gates of the school you couldn’t see a thing, but trees. No sign of life or cars seemed present around the school. Sighing, you moved away from the window and towards your closet to pick out your clothes for your first day of class. Entering the closet, you turn the light switch on and a surprised gasp escapes past your lips. Your closet was enormous. It housed many shelves inside. You felt like you were living in your dream castle. From the interior decorations in your bedroom, and the beautiful scenery outside your window, and now your enormous closet with so many brands of clothes, shoes and accessories you couldn’t help but contain your excitement. Walking further inside your closet you graze your hand across all the clothes held up on hangers feeling the quality fabric of all the clothes. You soon are face to face with your school uniform. Your uncle had told you that the school had a strict dress code that the students were all supposed to follow. Your uniform was all black. A long-sleeved blouse along with a black skirt that reached mid-thigh; paired with a loose red tie in the front. After putting on your uniform you took it upon yourself to pair it with black tights to help cover your bare legs from the cold winter and cute white dress shoes. Checking yourself in the mirror you head out of the closet. Entering your bathroom. It was elegant. The walls were painted a creamy white color, a beautiful chandelier hung on the ceiling. If the bathroom wasn’t big enough the shower looked like it could fit about 5 people at one time. It was huge. You wondered if everyone in this school had bedrooms that looked like this, or if it was only you since you were the headmaster’s niece. Now, almost quarter to eight you quickly fix your black hair leaving it down; your bangs falling over the front of your face. You decide to apply a light amount of makeup to your milky pale skin. Deciding on just some foundation and a light touch of blush to accentuate your cheeks and a red lip tint you feel like you are all set and ready to start your day. Heading towards the front of your bedroom door grabbing your bookbag and slinging it over your shoulders taking a deep breath and saying to yourself “Here goes nothing” you step out of your room and into the dimly lit corridors of the dorm hallway, and you head off to your first class of the day.

Now mid-afternoon the bells of your last class just about to ring any second now. Your teacher continues rambling on about medieval literature, but you eventually tune yourself out, hand on your chin and slightly pouting you started doodling some random sketches on your notebook. Suddenly you felt a paper ball hit your back. Dropping your pencil on the table you turn around and you are then face to face with a red headed male with big ears, blue contact lenses and smooth milky skin. He had an apologetic look on his face. “Sorry, we didn’t mean to bother you my friend over here is an idiot” He whispered his voice deep while pointing at the culprit who had just thrown a paper ball at you. The male sat beside him across the aisle from where you both were sat. The other male trying to hide the smile off his face had raven black hair. He looked slimmer then the male seated behind you. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it” You smiled at the red-haired male. Smiling he extended his hand out towards you. Taking his hand, you shake it. “I’m Chanyeol and that is Sehun” He says while pointing at Sehun who waves at you, a smug smile on his face. Sehun leaning back against his desk, hands behind his head as his feet are planted on top of the desk. “I’m Alana. Alana Davis” you introduce yourself.

You scoff at how he chooses to sit. “I haven’t seen you in this class before; are you new?” Chanyeol asks, you nod “Yeah, my uncle is the headmaster of the school.” Chanyeol and Sehun’s eyes widen. “Headmaster Dae is your uncle?” Both now giving each other weird looks. Sehun removes his feet from on top of the desk now facing you in a hunched over position. His has a face of curiosity. “So, you must know…” Sehun speaks. “Know what?” a confused expression on your face. “About the night class students” Chanyeol speaks this time. Pouting your lips, you tilt your head to the side confusion still evident on your face. “What about the night class? What’s a night class?” you ask, questions starting to spill from your lips one after the other. “Soo.. you don’t know??” Sehun speaks again. “She clearly doesn’t Sehun. Now will you shut up!” Chanyeol mutters under his breath worried that they’ve said too much. Now curious, you wondered what the purpose of a Night Class was, and why your uncle hasn’t told you about this. “Tell me about this… Night Class “you ask them curiosity in your eyes.

Chanyeol lets out an exasperated breath. “Okay, well.. we don’t know much about them” He starts, “but what we do know, is that your uncle is very friendly with the Night Class students.” He continues, this time being cut off by Sehun. “The Night Class students are freaks of nature” He says, “and no one has ever seen one of them…” Suddenly the bell rings signaling the end of class. Both Chanyeol and Sehun get up from their seats. Chanyeol looking like a giant next to Sehun. Fixing their uniforms they start heading towards the door. “Wait!” you call after them. “That’s it?” Their backs facing you they both turn around. “Tell me more?” Looking over at each other, Sehun speaks again. Moving closer to you. He places a hand on your right shoulder bending down so that you and him are now eye level with each other. “Listen kid. If I were you I wouldn’t go looking to be “friends” with the Night Class students. The things I’ve heard about them isn’t quite friendly.” Chanyeol nods. “Yeah, also headmaster doesn’t allow students from Day Class to leave their rooms after dusk.” This perks your interest. Not allowed to leave our rooms after dusk?? You think to yourself. What has uncle Dae been up too lately. Now thinking about it Alana remembers her uncle acting quite strange and quiet last night from when he picked her up from the airport. The eerie feeling, she felt while being around her uncle began to creep up again. Snapping you out of your thoughts Sehun pats your shoulder a slight smile on his lips. “Well.. we should get going now.” He says. Nodding your head Chanyeol speaks this time. “Get back to your dorm Alana. It’s getting late.” He smiles. “It was nice meeting you” He says. “See you next class” They both say at the same time, as they slowly disappear from your field of vision.

Making my way back to my dorm; my books clutched to my chest. The cold winter air blowing through my hair. It was starting to get a little darker out and all the Day Class students had all gone back to their dorms preparing for the night. My dorm building was hidden farthest from everybody else’s, so it took me longer to walk back. As I’m walking everything around me was silent. Not a single person around, just me and my thoughts. I began to feel a little uneasy walking alone in the middle of the woods, so I started picking up my pace striding towards my building. The wind and the trees were whistling as I passed them. Finally seeing my building coming into view I let out a sigh of relief. “Almost there” I say to myself. Walking even faster. You couldn’t wait to get inside your room and wrap yourself up in some warm blankets. Suddenly you stumble upon a rock and trip falling to the ground. “Shit!” you curse out loud. Getting up and wiping the dirt off your new skirt quickly patting your ass and quickly get back on your feet. You praise god that you were in the middle of the woods and nobody had just seen you trip.. so you thought. Little did you know that two men hidden behind a tree were watching you with hungry eyes.

Finally, you are now back in your bedroom and you couldn’t be happier. Why your uncle placed you in the farthest building from your classes; you’ll never known. Loosening up your tie from around your neck you make your way to your bed, and throwing your bookbag on the floor, you plopped down on your bed your back facing up towards the ceiling. You sighed exhausted from your first day of class. You thought back on what Chanyeol and Sehun had told you earlier about the Night Class students. Why did your uncle make a separate class for students? What was he hiding from you? Your head was spinning with thought. Deciding to get up and take a steaming hot shower you make your way towards your bathroom. Stripping off your clothes you step into the shower; letting the water trickle down your body. The feeling of the hot water on your body relaxing you. You thought after you finished showering you would pay your uncle a visit and have a talk with him about what you had heard today.

Finishing up your shower you step out grabbing your towel and wrapping it around your petite body. Walking out of the bathroom and towards your closet; you turn on the light switch and look for something to wear. You thought you wouldn’t be out long, and since it was approaching dusk; you decided to wear a matching pair of navy-blue silk pajamas. It was very comfortable. You then grabbed a black winter coat putting it on along with some cute fluffy slippers turning off the light; you walk towards the door turning the nob quietly stepping outside the dimly lit corridors once again.

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

Sooner or later you are now standing in front of your uncle’s office. You were hesitant to knock. You thought about forgetting this whole thing and just running back to your dorm, but it was dark out now, and you didn’t want to walk through those creepy wood’s alone. Deciding to knock on the door your knuckles eventually make contact with the door and you start to knock. You knock three times and wait for your uncle to open the door. You feel like you had been standing outside his office for quite some time now. Feelings like he wouldn’t open the door your about to turn around until you hear the sound of a lock on the other side of the door signaling someone was opening the door. Turning back around and facing the front door expecting to see your uncle; you frown. It wasn’t your uncle. You frown quickly changes to surprise and you can’t help, but stare at the man standing in front of you. He’s gorgeous and you suddenly start to fidget. Now nervous standing in front of this man with just your silk pajamas you become self-conscious as he looks over your petite form. The man in front of you had beautiful black hair that was styled in a way that exposed his forehead, and his brown eyes boring into your own. He wore a black suit with a white turtleneck dress shirt underneath. Averting your gaze from looking at him any longer; you clear your throat and speak. “I-is the headmaster here?” you ask your voice slightly higher due to your nervous state. “I’m his niece, and I just wanted to speak to him.” you continue. The man in front of you now crosses his arms and leans against the door a smirking making its way across his pretty face. “Jongdae never told me he had a niece” the male spoke. You felt paralyzed under his gaze as his eyes scanned you from head to toe making its way back up to your face. “Jongdae isn’t here yet, but your welcome to wait inside if you’d like?” he suggests opening the door wider for you to come in. Feelings uneasy at how the raven-haired man is looking at you; you shake your head and quickly decline. “I-I really shouldn’t. I’m sorry” you stutter out. “Oooh, c’mon he won’t be long. I insist.. Besides” His voiced was laced with danger. Biting his lips; eyes looking down at your form again. You shiver at the way his eyes scan down your body. He looked at you, like he wanted to devour you. “I want to get to know Jongdae’s lovely niece.” A playful smirk on his face. Giving in you step through the door, and into your uncle’s office as the male closes the door behind you. Sitting down on a red leather chair that’s stationed right in front of your uncle’s desk, you quickly and discreetly fix your clothes. Making his way behind the desk he is now standing in front of you as he presses his palms down onto the desk and leans forward a little; a playful smirk still plastered across his face. You wanted to wipe that smirk off his voice. It made you feel hot. He was just watching you squirm under his gaze and you hated the affect he was having on you.

“Soo.. when is headmaster arriving?” You ask.

“Soon.” He replies.

“He’s out having a little late-night snack.” The male licks his lips.

You nod. “Okay”

Suddenly Jongdae barges through the door “Baekhyun what did I-“

He was caught by surprise when he saw you seated in front of the male you assumed to be Baekhyun. “Alana..” Jongdae clears his throat. The side of his lips lightly stained red. Quickly pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket; he wipes the sides of his mouth. He probably just had a burger you thought; due to the fact he had red on the sides of his mouth. “What are you doing out of your room?” he asks. “She wanted to see you Jongdae” Baekhyun smirks. Coming around from the front of the desk Baekhyun is now standing in front of you. Hands behind his back; he bends down so close to you, his breath nearly fanning your face tilting his head to the side examining your face you both are now staring into each other’s eyes; he speaks. “I’m a little disappointed you never told me you had a niece.” Baekhyun says. Jongdae had a horrified expression written all over his face. He looked angry that Baekhyun and I had been in the same room.. alone, but why?

Moving away from hovering over you Baekhyun slowly walks over to Jongdae’s side, leaning forward and whispers in his ear. “She smells..” Baekhyun inhales a deep breath exhaling seconds later. “Delicious” The words roll off his tongue so smoothly and Jongdae stiffens. “I don’t know how you control yourself around her when her blood smells sooo…SWEET.” Baekhyun says, putting an emphasis on the last word. Baekhyun was still whispering into Jongdae’s ears so that you wouldn’t be able to hear what he was saying.

As if you didn’t have enough surprises today the door slams open and in walks another male. You gasp. Your eyes moving to the figure walking in. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. Another male, but this male resembled the male standing besides Jongdae. Twins! You thought to yourself. Except this one had no sort of emotion on his face. He looked scary, and you didn’t want to risk making him angry anytime soon. Although he looked extremely intimidating he was still just as beautiful as Baekhyun. But unlike Baekhyun his brother had silver white hair that fell down his face, but not too long that you couldn’t see his cold blue eyes. He wore a black leather suit that hugged his body nicely and a face chain. He was extremely hot you thought to yourself. You cowered in your seat as he approached Jongdae and Baekhyun.

“Baekhyun let’s go we got some business to take care of!” He spoke his voice stern and assertive. Unlike Baekhyun his brother didn’t even give you the time of day to look at you. “Brother” Baekhyun moves away from Jongdae and smiles up at him. Turning his gaze back towards me. “Have you met Jongdae’s niece” Baekhyun’s eyebrows were slightly raised and that goddamn smirk still on his face.

His brother turns his sharp gaze towards you. As soon as you met his cold stare you froze in your seat. He didn’t even show somewhat of a smile on his face. All he did was scan his eyes down my body once and turned back around facing Baekhyun. Grabbing his brother by his ear he drags Baekhyun out of the office; both of them giving you one last look before they were gone. Letting out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in. Looking over at Jongdae still standing by the door; his arms crossed he had a scowl on his face. He looked pissed. Giving him an innocent smile; you spoke.

“I- I- I didn’t know you weren’t going to be here.” You began.

“If I had I wouldn’t have come.” You continued, lowering your head and staring at the carpeted floor. His excruciating stare piercing through you.

“You don’t know these people Alana.” Jongdae sighed and began to speak

“You could’ve gotten hurt.” He continued

“But I didn’t.” You said back to him.

“And besides Baekhyu- “

You started to say, but was off by her uncle. Don’t you dare speak about them to me.” He was furious now. “You don’t know what those two brothers are capable of.” He stated. “Who are they?” you asked clearly interested in the alluring mysterious twin brothers who seemed to have caught your attention so quickly. Letting out a long sigh Jongdae speaks. “They’re the Byun twins. They go by Baekhyun and Baëkhyun.” He said answering your question. “I don’t want you to ever come out of your dorm at night again! Do you hear me?” your uncle says. “And I don’t want you to speak to the Byun twins either! Their dangerous. Understood?” He asks.You nod. “Yes, I understand”

“I think you should get back to your dorm now… Before it gets even later.” He says. “Do you think you could walk back on your own?” He asks. Clearly having forgotten about why you came to his office in the first place you nod. “Yes, uncle Dae! I’ll be fine.” You smiled finally standing up from your seat walking over to him and wrapping your arms around his neck and giving him a hug. “I’m sorry I made you worry” You told him. “It won’t happen again.” Jongdae now hugging you back; his face nuzzled in the crook of your neck breathing in your scent. Feeling the pulse on your neck beating rather quickly his gums begin to swell signaling his fangs wanting to come out he pulled away rather quickly. Alana didn’t know that her uncle too was dangerous to be around; just like the Byun twins, but she would never find out his secret he thought.

“You should go” He spoke, his hands placed on both your shoulder as he stood in front of you his voice laced with concern and a bit of sadness; you wondered why?

Nodding you start making your way towards the door of his office. Before leaving you turn around giving him an innocent smile and telling him goodnight. Finally stepping out of his office you start walking towards the exit of the building. “Fuck!” you cursed to yourself. You forgot you had to walk through the woods to get back to your dormitory. Wrapping your coat around your body tightly you step outside into the cold night walking ahead to your dorm room.

You were just about to make a turn into the woods when you hear rustling sounds and what sounds like whispering close by. Curious you quietly start walking towards the sound. You stop when you suddenly see what looks like two males. Unable to see one hundred percent because of the darkness you move a little closer squinting your eyes. You are now hidden behind a tree watching them; accidentally stepping on a branch it cracks causing the two males’ eyes to meet your own. You gasp when you realize who they were.

It was the Byun twins and they had what looked like blood all over their hands…

Shocked at what you had just witnessed you slowly began to run off into the wood’s away from them and back to the safe confinement of your room.

“What did I just witness?” you thought to yourself as you kept running through the woods.

#exo #exo au #exo fanfic #baekhyun #byun baekhyun #EXO baekhyun #baekhyun smut #byun baekhyun smut #park chanyeol #oh sehun #sehun #exo sehun #exo chanyeol #vampire au #Vampire Baekhyun

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autumnsart22 · 3 years

Text

Chapter 14: Oikawa x reader

Hey! Sorry for the late update, I’ve had a hectic past few days. We’re getting super close to the end of this fanfic, I love you if you’ve stuck with it this long. I think next week’s chapter is going to be the final one so stay tuned :)

Oikawa POV:

During class on Monday, I could barely keep my eyes open. Our teacher seemed to lecture for hours, and every minute seemed to take a week. To occupy myself, I simply stared at Y/n.

It had started when she had first become our manager, when I was trying to get a reading on her and whether or not she would be a good fit for the team. In the end, I just found her a billion times more interesting than anything else.

With my head resting on my palm, I watched her scribble violently on the page in front of her, her head tilted and forehead scrunched up. It didn’t look like she was taking notes, which meant she was probably drawing. I knew that it was a hobby of hers--she always seemed to have lead stains on her finger tips from smudging--but she rarely let me look at any of her work. What I had seen had blown me away, but she always would get all red and flustered if I tried to ask to see more.

It seemed that she was having a particularly hard time with the sketch she was doing now, her hand clenched tightly around the pencil in frustration and an annoyed look on her face. I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing as she began cursing under her breath, erasing violently.

I sighed. How was she so pretty? And what was I going to do? Because being close to her all the time without confessing was looking more and more impossible with every day that went by.

✨✨✨✨

Y/n POV:

The bell rang and I let out a long breath, closing my notebook and packing away my pencils. I glared one more time at the stupid sketch of Iwaizumi and Oikawa, which just didn’t look right! It was something about Iwa’s nose that was off…Since I was in class, I didn’t want to risk using my phone for a reference picture, but I would fix it later.

As I got to my feet, Oikawa came over to stand by my desk, hitching his bag on his shoulder. He had taken off his white blazer and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, his red tie a little loose around his neck.

“God that was so horrendous…” he groaned, running a hand through his hair. I nodded, laughing as he made a face at the teacher. I noticed a few girls glaring at me out of the corner of my eye, but I ignored them. He wasn’t with them right now; he was with me.

I swung my bag over my shoulder, scooping up my sketchbook and following Oikawa out of the classroom. Iwaizumi met us in the crowded hall, glowering at everyone who passed. When he saw us, he looked vaguely relieved, which instantly melted back into annoyance as we started the journey out of the packed space.

We were almost to the door when a first year sprinted around a corner, crashing directly into me. I grunted and dropped my sketchbook, papers scattering everywhere.

“Oh sorry! I’m late to class!” The first year said, not even trying to help me clean up as he took off once again down the hall.

“Hey!” Iwaizumi yelled, looking ready to chase down the students and make him apologize.

“It’s fine,” I sighed, patting his arm and leaning down to start scooping up my papers. Iwa and Oikawa moved to help me, and I felt my heart practically stop as I realized what they would see.

“Wait--!”

Too late. Both Iwa and Oikawa stared at the pictures scattered on the ground, Oikawa’s mouth slightly open and even Iwa’s eyes a bit wide.

They were all of Oikawa.

Ok, maybe not all of them. Some of them were sketches of the whole team, or of Iwaizumi. I had a bunch of all us three, and some just random doodles. But the majority were of Seijoh’s captain, different angles, different styles, color or no color, his hands, his eyes, his hair. Dear god, it was like looking at Oikawa through a many lensed mirror.

I felt my entire body flush, and I quickly began to snatch up the papers as fast as possible, not caring if they crumpled or tore.

“Woah, what are you doing? Be careful with them!” Oikawa said, carefully stacking the drawings and handing them to me in a neat stack. His cheeks were tinted pink, but he smiled widely. “Why are you so red, Chibi-chan? These are amazing!”

“Ugh,” I was so embarrassed I could barely speak. “You-it’s not-you’re just easy to draw!”

Oikawa grinned smugly. “Hear that Iwa-chan? Y/n likes drawing me! Makes sense--I am extremely attractive, after all.”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and smacked Oikawa on the back of the head. “Stupid pretty boy,” he grunted.

My laugh was a bit strained, but I managed to stuff all the papers away before getting to my feet. “Let’s get out of the middle of the hallway.”

As we walked outside, Oikawa turned to me. “Have you ever considered going to art school?”

I blinked in surprise. I had in fact considered applying to a few, but I knew my parents would never let me go. How did he know that?

“A bit but...my parents…”

Both Iwa and Oikawa knew how strict my parents were, and how much I was pressured by them. Oikawa looked frustrated, crossing his arms and stopping in the middle of the path, making Iwaizumi and I turn to look at him.

“What?” I asked.

“I think you should apply, if that’s what you want to do.” He pointed to the sketchbook I clutched close to my chest. “Those are so good, Y/n. You could really do something with your talent.”

I bit my lip. “But--”

Oikawa put his finger on my lips, stopping me from speaking. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. But think about it, ok? It’s your life, not your parents’.”

Later that day, I sat down on my bed and began to research art schools in Japan.

✨✨✨✨

“Alright everyone, circle up!” Coach Nobuteru yelled, and the team dropped their volleyballs and headed over to the bench. I tapped my clipboard with my pen, where I had written out comments for each of the players. “Good job today everyone. We have a practice game coming up, so keep up the good work. I’ll let Y/n give you any comments she has about your form.”

I nodded, smiling. “Everyone has improved so much, I’m so proud of you. I just took a few notes to hopefully help you out.”

I went around and read my comments, which were pretty brief, before letting everyone start cleaning up.

I began picking up extra volleyballs while the boys changed, rolling up the net and packing up my stuff. My team began filtering out, waving to me as they left.

“Have a good day!”

“See you tomorrow!”

I grinned. “Great job again everyone!”

Iwaizumi and Oikawa emerged last, and Iwa told us he had to get home to see his mom. Apparently she had started a new treatment where she needed to be in the hospital far more, so he wanted to see her at home when he could.

I turned to Oikawa, shuffling my feet a little bit. “Um.”

He looked at me curiously. “Yeah?”

“Well I--I don’t know, I was thinking-- I kind of want to um...learn how to serve?”

Oikawa blinked. “You do?”

“Yeah, I just. I don’t know, I always give you guys criticism, but I don’t even know how to play. I know I won’t be very good but I just thought…” I trailed off.

When I glanced up at Oikawa, his eyes were bright and excited. “Oh my god, you’re so cute! I’ll totally teach you how to serve, I’m the best after all.”

I sighed, laughing a little. “Ok then. What do I have to do?”

Oikawa rolled the basket of volleyballs over to the end of the court, showing me how to hold the ball and position myself.

As I expected, I was absolutely horrendous. I hit the net over and over, or my tosses were too weak to even get close. I cursed violently, but Oikawa thought it was hilarious. He was a good teacher, and obviously an excellent server, but I couldn’t seem to get the hang of it.

“Don’t worry, it takes a lot of practice. It took me years to get this good.”

“Ok…” I pouted.

“Here,” Oikawa wrapped his arms around my waist, adjusting my arms and stance. I shivered, the feeling of his muscles flexing behind me making my heart race. “You throw it like this.”

He tossed the ball in the air and spiked it hard over the net. I leaned my head back to look at him and smiled. “I think I’ll leave the serving to you.”

His face was inches away and he gently touched my chin. “Whatever you say, Chibi-chan.”

We packed up the volleyballs and net, and I locked the door as we headed out. The sky had darkened, and I shivered a little as we headed towards the student parking lot.

“What are you doing tonight?” I asked, glancing at Oikawa.

“Ugh, just homework mostly. I have an essay coming up that’s due soon.”

“God--”

“Oikawa-san!” A voice called from behind us. “How are you?”

We both turned, and I clenched my teeth as two pretty girls moved across the grass towards us. I noticed Oikawa grimace before his fake smile was pulled across his face like a mask.

“Hey! I’m doing good. How are you?”

One of the girls giggled. “Great. Are you busy tonight?”

I swallowed, turning away without looking at Oikawa. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Oikawa-san.”

I walked away towards the cars, not looking back. I could hear the girls still talking, but I tugged my beats from around my neck and placed them over my ears to block them out.

As I unlocked my car, I felt a hand on my arm spinning me around. Oikawa gazed down at me imploringly, tugging my headphones off my ears.

“Why’d you leave me like that?” He asked, looking betrayed.

“Huh? I thought you’d want to talk to them.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re so oblivious.”

I raised my eyebrows. “So you didn’t want to talk to them?”

“No, why would I when I have you?”

I went red, hiding a smile. “Ok then.”

Chapter 13

Chapter 15

#oikawa tooru #oikawa #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa fic #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyu x reader #fanfiction #fandom #fanfic #oikawa fluff #fluff

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excuseme-youpretty · 4 years

Text

Daebak Skylines - KTH

Requested by @blushpinkpeonies 💜

Make your own request HERE

💜 Pairing: Kim Taehyung / Reader

💜 Color: Purple

💜 Genre: Fluff

💜 Rating: G

💜 Word Count: 867

"Keep holding still, Jagiya."

Taehyung's voice is soft and velvety-warm where it unfurls across the expanse of your bare back, trickling between your shoulder blades and down your spine like windswept cherry blossoms. He leans a fraction closer toward your body, so close that you can feel an indescribable heat radiating from his golden skin. He has your insides crackling like incinerated firewood.

You balance your chin precariously on the crossstitch of your looped forearms, attempting to settle your energized breaths into something easier to maintain. Goosebumps prickle across your exposed tailbone and along the inseam of your ribcage, winding down in a textured pathway; one which your boyfriend opts to trace with a precise hand.

You suck in an anticipatory breath as soon as you hear the telltale sound of paint squelching through a pointed bristle, attempting to keep your torso as calm and rigid as possible when Taehyung leans in.

An enthralled gasp leaves your lips as soon as he begins stippling a fresh layer of paint over your back. His wrist is steady and precise where he strokes back and forth, moving in a singular motion. He adds depth and pigmentation, carving out an entire multidimensional environment right there on the canvas of your spine.

He emits a small noise of approval and you are certain, despite your lack of visual perception, that he is incredibly satisfied with his work.

"Almost there, baby. You look so beautiful."

He rests a large palm on the curve of your hip, just light enough to leave you shivering as you catch a brief glimpse of long paint-speckled fingertips in your peripheral vision, using his other hand to submerge his paintbrush in a cup of amber-tinted water and shaking it until the bristles come out clean.

"I can't wait to see. You always paint the prettiest pictures, Tae."

"Ah, that's because I have you as my muse, my darling."

The words are a cliche and yet your toes curl nonetheless; every syllable sounds downright saintly when uttered in Taehyung's salacious baritone.

With your eyes closed and your senses heightened, you can hear the soft sound of your boyfriend's tongue protruding from the contour of his lips as he concentrates on the task at hand. You feel the crisp, cool caress of paint being pressed onto your shoulder, uncomfortable and sticky but warmed considerably by the applied pressure of Taehyung's thumb.

He presses once. Twice. And then he's shrieking in satisfaction.

"Daebak! You look so beautiful."

Taehyung stands abruptly, clapping his hands together with excitement. He pushes his fingers through his hair, combing away the loose sandstone strands which have tugged free from the compression of his headband, leaving small kaleidoscopic highlights in his wake.

You tilt your head back as far as is possible from your horizontal position, but all you can visualize is an orgasmic array of colors; amethyst and fuchsia and saffron and one startlingly bright smudge of crimson.

"Ah, patience my love. We don't want the paint to crack. Just let me–"

He trails off mid-sentence, tripping over his own feet as he searches for his phone. He finds it disregarded beside a mug of lukewarm tea and his beloved sketchbook, left open on an intricately detailed doodle that you are certain has been brought to life across your skin.

"Hold still for me one more time, Jagi. You're so beautiful."

You gather another breath, holding perfectly still as Taehyung hovers over you with his phone held securely between his hands.

You hear click after click after click with your boyfriend changing position every so often in order to gain the perfect angle for his masterpiece.

Once satisfied Taehyung rolls to the floor to join you, pressing an open-mouthed kiss against your pulsepoint. He passes his phone to you, allowing you to take your time scanning through the highly detailed snapshots.

Instantly, you are inundated with emotion.

The piece is indescribable; an otherworldly landscape full of saturation and detail and colour.

He has painted a sunset at dusk; hypnotic waves, doused in rich indigo highlights and aerated lavender foam, and a triumphant citrine sun fracturing across the water's slumbering surface. There are stark trees in the distance, charcoal grey and bleeding into the star-studded skyline like ink dripping from a pen quill. Balancing precariously atop a heart-shaped raft perch a duo of faceless figurines, their hands joined between their bodies and lips just barely touching. And in the corner, right over your shoulder blade, is a distinct red heart born from the presence of Taehyung's well placed thumb.

You shudder with barely-contained emotion, allowing your eyes to close as you drink it all in. Behind your eyelids burns a tantalizing sear of orchid; Taehyung's artwork glistening at the forefront of your mind.

"Do you like it, Jagi?" Taehyung asks once your silence becomes suffocatingly thick.

You turn your face toward him, little iridescent beads dancing atop your lash-line before you can wick them away. "Taehyung-ah, I don't just like it… I purple it."

Your boyfriend's lips stretch out into a chaotic grin, rectangular and shimmering, and you are struck down by how beautiful he is.

Beautiful AND exceptionally talented. How did you get so lucky?

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denjispinalcordsword · 4 years

Text

Thank u to @exosbaeks for tagging me!! this was so cute! i discovered that like.....i did not bold many of these 😂😂 i felt terrible some of these only have 1 or 2!!! how!! but anyway i gave it a good go

i’m not gonna tag anyone tonight but if anyone wants to do this it’s a cute challenge lol and madeleine i liked going through our answers and seeing which were the same and different :D

rules: bold the aesthetics you relate to and add twenty of your own aesthetic qualities for others to bold

soft

dark academia

edgy

seventies

preppy casual

cinanamon - steph

gold jewelry, slowdancing in the kitchen with a lover, sun on skin, red-tinted lip balm, lazy mornings, getting lost in foreign cities, scent of bakeries, high-waisted jeans, kissing someone’s neck, writing reminders on your wrist, sleeping in braids to have waves in the morning, growing an herb garden, gentle touches, sketches tucked between pages, flushed cheeks, tandem bikes, floating in a pool, vintage gold hand-mirror, deer grazing, softly singing while doing chores

jaesmintea - dia

naptimetea - helena

jeonginks

scxrlettwxtches

listening to a song and remembering the times you used to listen to it on repeat | imagining yourself living in any other life than the one you have now | crop tops and high waisted jeans | forgetting to smile but not actually being upset | nuzzling your face in the crook of their neck | back hugs when you’re stressed | turning in assignments 1 minute before they’re due | wanting a relationship but getting scared the moment you’re in one | pretending that you don’t care when inside you’re burning with doubts and fears | the sound of the evening waves as you lie on the sand | lying in your bed listening to your sad playlist | exhaustion but you can’t sleep | singing loudly when you’re the only one home | feeling safe and comfortable with that person in your life | knee high suede black boots with your black winter coat | comfort over appearance | writing essays at 2 am | creative peak from 1 am to 4 am | the one that always ends up walking in the back of a friend group

hyunsracha - sav!

lveletters

dnceracha - sydni

exosbaeks

joohoneyonehunnit (leila)

#whew! all done hahahaha!

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lolainslackss · 5 years

Note

Numbers 2 or 8 feat high school Andriel au bc I cant get enough of my two sons 😫

02. i sit at the rental booth at our local ice rink and watch you teach children how to skate

Neil lines up the three pairs of skates so that the blades clack metallically against the countertop. The tallest kid hands him a note to cover the rental charges and then passes the skates to his friends as Neil counts out his change with shivering fingers.

Abby and Wymack have given him this tiny electric heater that he keeps under the counter but even if he keeps it on for his entire shift, he never manages to thaw. That said, the rental booth isn’t the worst place he’s ever worked. Despite the cold (and the cheery looping of the same holiday songs), it’s easygoing. He enjoys the sounds - the echoey voices and the soft scratching of skates against the rink - and he enjoys the steaming mugs of tea Abby brings him every hour. He likes that Wymack isn’t too strict, which means he can spend his shifts catching up on homework. He also likes the decades-old decorations they excavate from some dark basement room every year; he can remember the crooked, artificial tree and the dimly-glowing rainbow of lights strung around it from when he came ice skating as a kid. Of all the jobs he could have taken at the rink, the rental booth is fine. He would have rather taken on an assistant instructor role, but even though he’s nimble on his feet when he’s on dry land, he’s an accident-prone nightmare on the ice. So that was that ruled out.

“Enjoy,” he murmurs half-heartedly as he hands the kid a stack of loose change. The boy looks at the two girls and they all grin, clearly amused by some private joke or other.

“We always do,” one of the girls says. They’ve already changed into their skates and now their snow boots are wet and drippy on Neil’s counter.

“Mr. Minyard is the best,” the other girl adds.

“So funny,” the boy agrees.

Minyard, Neil thinks, as they totter towards the rink. Surely not that Minyard.

He shrugs and puts their boots away, but he’s still preoccupied by that name. He sits next to a Minyard in school: Andrew. They have calculus together but they’ve never said a word to each other. Andrew sits in stony silence throughout their class, not doing much at all, while Neil furiously scribbles away. He doesn’t seem to do badly, though. In fact, his scores are nearly as good as Neil’s own (Neil takes a peek every now and then, when he’s sure Andrew isn’t looking). He can’t imagine Andrew teaching kids how to skate. From what Neil knows firsthand, and from what he’s heard from other kids at school, Andrew isn’t very friendly or patient. In fact, some of the kids at school are deathly afraid of him.

Neil frowns and tries to focus on his homework, but he’s too distracted. He checks to see if there are any more customers around and hops over the booth counter when he sees there aren’t. The sounds of skates swishing against the ice gets louder as he approaches the rink. He’s not sure what’s really driving his curiosity, but he can’t shake away the need to know. He peers through the plexiglass and sure enough, there he is: Andrew Minyard. Five feet flat and perfectly balanced on the ice. There are around twelve kids congregating around him, laughing hysterically. Andrew, straight-faced, folds his arms across his chest and says something. They all laugh again. Neil tilts his head to the side and watches. Andrew sends away the more confident skaters to practice travelling backwards around the perimeter of the rink and stays in the centre to teach the more wobbly skaters to do figures-of-eight on the ice. He looks calm as he instructs them, gentle in his guidance. It’s a strange image to apply to the disinterested and cold-looking Andrew Minyard he knows from class.

“Wesninski,” Wymack barks, yanking him back to the real world. “You’ve got customers. I don’t pay you to stand around.”

Andrew looks over when he hears Wymack yelling and his and Neil’s eyes meet briefly. Aside from a glimmer of recognition, Andrew doesn’t give anything else away. Neil makes a mental note to ask him about it on Monday, and then jogs back to the rental booth - and the disgruntled customers waiting for him - with a forced and cheery smile plastered on his face.

…

Monday morning. Calculus. Andrew Minyard comes in just before the bell rings and plonks down into his seat without sparing Neil a glance. Their teacher immediately starts droning on, so Neil doesn’t get a chance to talk to Andrew until they’re given their exercises.

“So, how long have you worked at the rink?” Neil asks, tapping his pencil against his notepad.

“Couple of weeks,” Andrew says with a shrug, doodling a fat cat in the margins of his own notebook.

“I work there too,” Neil tells him uselessly.

“I noticed,” Andrew says with a small snort. “You were spying on me.”

“I wasn’t- I just-” Neil returns his mocking look with a glare. Andrew looks so different from when he was helping the kids at the rink. He looks harder at the edges. “I was just curious to see who the new instructor was.”

“Well, now you’ve found out. Hope you’re thrilled.”

“You don’t seem like the type.”

Andrew looks amused. “That’s presumptuous.”

“Yeah, well,” Neil mumbles, shrugging. “Maybe you should put as much effort into your calculus as you do at the rink.”

“You’re very bold this morning.”

“You’re a confusing person,” Neil admits.

“Don’t hurt yourself trying to figure it out,” Andrew says. “I can make it simple for you.”

Neil looks at him questioningly.

“At the rink, I get free blue raspberry slushies. You know, because I work there,” Andrew says, conspiratorially, as if he’s telling Neil a secret. “In calculus, though? Not so much.”

Neil blinks, nonplussed. “You’re messing with me.”

“Who knew you were so easy to mess with.”

“So, what’s the real reason?”

“I like it,” Andrew says plainly. “Is that the answer you were hoping for?”

Neil just shrugs. He feels annoyed. Like the conversation is a game that he’s somehow lost. He flips the page vigorously and somehow ends up gouging a papercut into the side of his finger. A blob of red blood beads, quivers and then spills.

He instinctively blots the cut with a sheet of paper from his notebook before noticing that Andrew is pulling a pack of wet wipes and a beat-up box of band-aids out of his bag.

“It’s just a papercut,” Neil protests.

“Just a papercut,” Andrew parrots darkly. “Even tiny cuts can get infected.”

“Fine,” Neil concedes, placing his hand on the desk in between them.

He watches as Andrew carefully dabs the cut before firmly wrapping the band-aid around it. His touch causes Neil’s heart to trip up in his chest. He brings his free hand to his forehead; he hopes he’s not coming down with something.

After Andrew’s done, he drops Neil’s hand as if it’s a pebble of coal burning hot from a fire. Neil mutters a thank you and the rest of the class passes by without incident or, indeed, another word.

…

Saturday. Very early afternoon. Stark white daylight washes over the town, but it’s ephemeral. Soon, the sky will purple and brood. It’s the busiest time at the ice rink and Neil’s been dealing with a constant queue of customers all day.

Eventually, he’s left alone long enough to sit down and take a look at his English essay. He writes exactly one sentence before the commotion begins. A cluster of kids waddle toward him, teetering on their skates. They look worried.

“Mr. Minyard fell on the ice,” one of them announces.

“His knee just like, started spurting blood everywhere!”

“Don’t exaggerate, Tommy!”

“What? It did!”

Neil swears under his breath and bends down to retrieve the first aid kit. Wymack had made him take a first aid course after he’d been offered the job. He’d said he liked everyone at the rink to know how to take care of someone who took a spill on the ice. Luckily, he has never had to use it. Until now.

Neil follows the kids to the edge of the rink. Andrew is trying to undo his laces, but keeps needing to stop in order to press down on his bleeding knee. His pale fingers are smudged red. When Neil looks across the rink, he sees the splatter of crimson where he must have fallen.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have worn your trendy, ripped jeans to work today,” Neil deadpans, crouching down to take a look at Andrew’s cut.

“Shut up,” Andrew says, shooting him an unimpressed look.

“I will,” Neil says, “but only if you let me take a look at that.”

He nods at Andrew’s hands, which are clasped tightly over his knee. Andrew’s expression doesn’t change, but something in his body language shifts as he slowly undoes his hands and lets them fall to his sides.

“Just there,” he says, pointing to his knee. He leans back against the plexiglass wall and closes his eyes.

Neil nods, not really understanding. He makes sure to clean and dress the wound without touching Andrew anywhere but his knee. It’s a relatively shallow cut so it’s easy enough to patch up, even when there are a bunch of kids watching him work, holding their breath.

When he’s done, Andrew’s eyes flutter open. Some colour has returned to his cheeks. Neil smiles at him encouragingly.

“Go get Andrew a blue raspberry slushie,” Neil instructs one of the kids.

“I’m not in shock,” Andrew grumbles, annoyed.

“Didn’t say you were,” Neil replies. “This is just, I don’t know, my treat.”

“What a treat,” Andrew says sarcastically, getting to his feet. “A freebie from the cafeteria.”

“How’d you fall?” Neil asks, just as Andrew is about to get back on the rink and skate away from him.

“Wasn’t paying attention,” Andrew says, looking annoyed at himself.

“Oh well,” Neil says. “Could have been worse, right?”

Andrew just holds his gaze for a second or two and then glides away.

…

Neil slams his locker and startles when he sees Andrew standing right next to him, sucking the remnants of a slushie, his lips tinted blue.

“What?” Neil asks.

“Nothing,” Andrew replies, tossing the plastic cup in the trash.

“Okay,” Neil replies, confused. “You’re finished too?”

Andrew just nods, sitting down on the bench across from Neil and studying him carefully. His look makes Neil feel twitchy and at the same time makes his insides lurch as if he’s on a rollercoaster.

“Uh, are you heading home then?” Neil goes on.

Andrew shrugs. “You?”

“Kind of have to,” Neil replies, tugging on his parka and switching his fingerless gloves for mittens. “It’s Hanukkah. If I’m not there when the candle’s lit, my mom will kill me.”

“Okay,” Andrew says, considering this. “And what will she do if you sneak out after?”

Neil huffs a laugh out of his nose and shakes his head. “Then she’ll turn me over to my dad to kill me.”

“Is there any situation where you meet up with me tonight and don’t end up dead?”

“I- Well- Why do you want to meet up with me?”

Andrew looks at him as if to say, are you serious? Neil tugs at his scarf, feeling warmth for the first time in weeks.

“You,” he starts, not sure how to finish. “You’re nothing like how they say you are, are you?”

“Who’s that?”

“The kids at school. They think you’re scary.”

But he’s not, Neil thinks, his mind flooding with images of Andrew on the ice, reaching for some little girl’s hand as she’s about to stumble. Of Andrew taking care of his stupid papercut even though he didn’t have to.

“I don’t care what they think,” Andrew says.

“Where will you be?” Neil asks, changing the subject. “Tonight?”

“Around.”

“Your parents won’t mind?”

“Bee is a very lenient guardian.”

Neil doesn’t waste his time trying to untangle his thoughts. He knows what he wants to do.

“I can sneak out,” Neil tells Andrew, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

“Good,” Andrew says.

They walk down the corridor in silence, eventually passing the empty rink and a suspicious-looking Wymack. Neil waves goodbye to him and then he and Andrew are outside, surrounded by a deeply black night-time that’s being interrupted by the orange glow of the streetlamps. Andrew walks him to his car and then leaves without saying another word, merely tugging on the strap of his backpack and shooting him another one of his looks.

Neil drives home with a grin on his face he can’t get rid of. He can’t wait to see how the rest of the night will turn out.

winter prompts

#winter prompts #fic #aftg #tfc #andreil #aftg fic #tfc fic #still working through these bad boys!#i'm trying to keep them short and sweet but aaaaaa #i overthink too much #I love writing high school andreil tho #ty for the prompt anon!#:')#prompt fills

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soldrawss · 6 years

Text

Shadows, Scars and Salted Lines

Annabeth liked being in control.

She liked planning, preparing, strategizing how to tackle every obstacle that dared cross her path. She liked the feeling she got when something she had worked so hard for went her way, like perfect dominoes falling into place. She liked how it gave her power, a certain freedom with limitations that she got to set for herself, and gave her sense of calm. Her center, the place where she was most comfortable, was knowing that nothing could ever get the best of her. Not again.

She was never going to be left unguarded, forced to drown in a dark and painful sea without a life preserver, not ever again.

So this feeling of freefall she was in? This awkward and unstable ground she'd been fumbling to stand on, was something jolting and foreign to Annabeth's entire system. She wasn't in control. Hadn't been for at least 3 weeks and she was desperately struggling to keep her head above water.

Because honestly, who could ever prepare for something like ghosts?

"Ok, so, just start from the beginning."

Annabeth sank into the offered seat slowly, the worn couch cushions conforming around her comfortably. There was a knitted blanket resting on the back frame, but in the warmly heated room, Annabeth couldn't imagine anyone ever having a need for it other than a bright way to decorate the already colorful room.

Leo had stayed crisscross apple sauced on the opposite couch next to hers. His attention was politely on her, interest flickered in his eyes and the small flashes of a comfortable grin he would send her, but his hands continued to work on the small radio from before, like they had a mind of their own, moving in practiced and confident motions even when his focus was on Annabeth.

Annabeth liked Leo. He was vibrant and warm and friendly in a chaotic and energetic way. Inviting you in with a sparked fire in his eyes and a mischievous smile playing on his lips. He wore a deep red sweatshirt that was at least three sizes too big for him, with the sleeves wrinkled and rolled to his elbows, and an old pair of blue jeans that were ripped and well worn. He had a head full of chocolate curls that, if not for the various bobby pins that Annabeth could only assume were placed there by Piper, would curl and cup around his eyes and cheeks. Dark brown eyes, playful and kind, would catch hers and if Annabeth dared to hold long enough, she'd almost swear there were flecks of gold that would catch in the light, like burning embers from a fire.

Annabeth also noticed the slight tints of pink against his brown exposed skin. Scarred and burned tissue running up his arms and legs like tattooed lightning strikes before disappearing under fabric, and despite the multiple colorful band-aids wrapped around his fingers, they looked old and well aged. Nothing raw, but instead healed over throughout the years, like it had been well over a decade since the scarring incident occurred. Annabeth did her best not to notice, but if her eyes did linger for a second too long, all Leo did was send her another glacier melting smile before continuing to tinker again.

Annabeth liked Piper too. She was laying beside Leo on the couch they shared, her legs comfortably strewn across his lap like second nature. A small notebook was in her hands and she was carefully going through it, chewing on the end of a pencil as she flipped through the pages, sometimes deciding to add a quick note or two before continuing to leaf through it. Or, judging by the small doodles Annabeth first noticed on the whiteboard to her left, Piper could have just been doodling Leo making various silly and overly animated faces. She wouldn't put it past Piper if it was the latter.

Piper felt like a breath of fresh air to Annabeth. She was stylish in a relaxed and easy way, wearing a simple, teal long sleeved shirt that fell off one of her shoulders and comfortable black leggings, with dark grey socks pulled up to her mid-calf. Her long, dark hair was braided into two loose strands that curled at the bottom next to her ribs. She wore a few rings and bracelets, as well several piercings in both her ears, but nothing that would stand out or call too much attention to herself. She was, without a doubt, beautiful, but not in a conventional Hollywood way.

She was kind and affectionate. You could tell that she was the kind of person that could befriend anyone just by how warmly and purposefully she would greet you. And she was fun and energetic in a different way than Leo, who seemed more explosive than conforming. She was the kind of fun that could fit anywhere, either out at a club, a formal event; or just at home on the couch. She had her own spark of mischief around her as well, something rebellious and wayward, but ultimately good and brave and fierce. Yeah, fierce was a good way to describe her. Fierce and compassionate, with a soothing and comfortable voice that you could just sink into and trust immediately. But she was protective about the things she cared about, and you were very lucky if you were one of those things.

She invited Annabeth into their space without a second thought, and Annabeth felt at ease whenever she sent those constantly changing eyes her way.

And lastly, there was Percy, who Annabeth definitely liked, but in an uneasy and nosedive kind of way that Annabeth didn't readily understand.

He sat in front of her, taking a seat on the space he had cleared off the coffee table and leaning forward so that his elbows were resting on his knees. He stared at Annabeth not unkindly, but with a sort of sparked intensity that she wasn't used to being on the receiving end of. Focused and acute. He was wearing a Guns and Roses band T-shirt, jeans, and navy blue converse that looked like they had seen better days. A leather necklace could be seen around his neck, but whatever was attached to the end of it was hidden inside his shirt, kept close to his chest. His tousled, wind-swept hair just barely covered the blue band-aid on his forehead as his sea green eyes pierced through strands of black.

For someone who could supposedly see ghosts, Percy didn't give off the dark, gloomy and emo vibe one would probably obtain from being able to see the dead. To Annabeth, he gave off more of a relaxed, easy going kinda vibe, with a laugh that was as contagious as it was charming. He was kind, judging from the way he treated Piper and Leo, who would tease just on the safe side of playful and endearing. And when he smiled at you, with that crooked and dorky grin, you felt like just about the most important person in the world. Like no matter what, he had your back.

Maybe that's why Annabeth felt uneasy around him. How easily she felt so comfortable with that smile and laugh and disheveled personality. How easily her walls and guard fell down in the presence of those piercing eyes directed her way. It shouldn't have been that easy, Annabeth had been burned too many times before by a similar smile that could charm birds out of trees. She knew better than to trust people so willingly and without fault.

And yet, here she was, sitting in from of him, all three of them, ready to divulge a secret only one other person knew. With a trust in them that she hadn't placed in another person in a long, long time.

"And don't worry about us believing you or not," Percy continued, hands folded together in front of him, attention trained solely on Annabeth as he gave her a soft smile. "Just, tell us everything the way it happened. Leave no details out, no matter how small or insignificant they might seem to be."

Annabeth nodded in understanding, rubbing her hands against her arms nervously. Because Annabeth still wasn't sure if she believed in the paranormal. But she did believe that whatever the case may be, these people weren't going to disregard her or turn her away so easily.

Which gave Annabeth all the courage and comfort she needed to proceed.

"I just moved to New York, like, two months ago," Annabeth started, her mind wandering to her memories of the summer move. "Into a little one bedroom apartment up in Queens. It's a little rundown and scrappy, but it was cheap and close to the cafe I work at part-time, ya know? So I settled. And for a while, it was actually pretty nice."

Annabeth remembered that first week she had moved, which was actually really hard and miserable. She had moved all by herself, with nothing but a couple hundred bucks in her back pocket, a mattress, and a half dozen boxes of books she'd sooner die than leave behind. She was transferring for her sophomore year of college into a new city, which thankfully wasn't too much of a financial hassle due to her great high school GPA and solid grades her freshman year. But it was scary enough being all by herself after pretty much leaving, (Annabeth refuses to call it running away), from everything and everyone she knew all the way on the other side of the country.

Annabeth had never been great at making new friends, so even with the prospect of being able to make at least one in a city as diverse and large as New York, she worried if this move had really been the best thing for her.

But if Annabeth was anything, she was stubborn to a fault, and not about to back down regardless of how lonely she felt.

And thank God, was she not lonely for long.

Jason says their friendship was nothing but good timing and coincidental happenstance, but Annabeth doesn't consider it as anything less than a miracle. Not only did he happen to be in the same Ancient History and Communication classes, but he also worked a part-time shift at the same cafe as Annabeth. This meant a lot of time, tired laughs, and coffee breaks shared between the two, which was lucky for Annabeth because Jason was great.

He was sweet and friendly in an infectious way, with a peacekeeping air and poise about him that just demanded respect. He was always polite, reputable, and sincere, which helped when dealing with tough customers because he knew how to diffuse a situation like a practiced (good) politician. A leader by default but who played the humble follower by choice, Jason was the dignified calm to Annabeth's less than held together impulsiveness, always so supportive and willing to help her with anything she needed.

Which was put to the test about a week and a half ago when Annabeth showed up at his doorstep one late stormy night, eyes red from crying and lack of sleep as she raved about shadow people haunting her apartment. Instead of turning her away or telling her that she was simply having bad dreams, he pulled open the foldout couch and stayed up with her watching late night soap operas until she fell asleep. Annabeth stayed with Jason and his sister Thalia in their small apartment every night since, and they never once pushed for an explanation farther than Annabeth was willing to give them. They received her with open and ready arms, accepting her and taking her in like she had always been family, and honestly, Annabeth didn't know what she did to gain such loyal and good friends. She certainly didn't deserve them.

"I'm sensing a but here," Leo mumbled, a screwdriver hanging from his mouth as he reached for a few screws left on the coffee table that Percy hadn't moved out of the way.

Annabeth continued to rub her arms, looking away from Percy's gaze and at her boots, which were still damp from the rainy downpour that had plagued New York for the last couple of days. "I didn't think much of it at first. I heard a few knocks or scratches here and there, a few bangs every night, but I just chalked it up to old infrastructure. The weird flickering lights and the sudden drops in temperature were nothing more than a bit of faulty wiring."

Annabeth shrugged helplessly, giving Percy a tired smile. "My apartment building is old. The faucet in the kitchen leaks and there are a few holes in the drywall. I was just glad to have running water and a roof over my head for a reasonable price, you know? I didn't even think twice about those kinds of things.”

Percy nodded in understanding but said nothing, letting Annabeth shift uncomfortably in her seat as she went back to staring at the ground.

"But then things started to move. Not like, right before my eyes kinda move. At least, not at first. Small things here and there would just wind up somewhere else, in a different place than where I had left them. My keys would somehow wind up behind the couch. My wallet on the bathroom floor. A few things have even gone missing, and I thought, maybe. Maybe something's going on."

Annabeth stopped rubbing her arms to run a hand through her curled and knotted hair, sighing in exhaustion. "But even then I didn't think anything was out of the ordinary. I just moved! Into a new city and a new school and I'm starting a new life all by myself. My nerves are a bit fried and my stress levels are through the roof! It's a miracle I can even navigate the New York subway, let alone keep full track of where I misplace my keys. I'm just doing my best to get at least 5 hours of sleep at night, make it to classes and work, and eat a vegetable here and there."

Annabeth didn't mean to let her voice raise a bit in frustration, but she was just so, so tired. She spent more wasted energy trying to convince herself that nothing was wrong instead of actually dealing with the problem. This, however, was somewhat therapeutic as she let out a low and overdue sigh.

Leo continued to work on his radio, hands moving faster than Annabeth could think, but his eyes would flicker to her every once and awhile, just to let her know that he was still paying attention. Piper had stuck to one page of her notebook, writing down who knows what kind of notes since Annabeth had begun talking, but she'd flash a reassuring smile every time Annabeth paused, calming her nerves even if by only a fraction.

And Percy continued to sit in front of her, hardly moving as he focused on Annabeth. His breathing was slow and rhythmic, and Annabeth found herself trying to mimic it when she felt too close to having a nervous breakdown. His steady gaze and kind eyes comforted her enough to continue.

"But then I, I don't know, I think I started seeing things. A shadowy figure at the corner of my vision that would disappear when I tried to look at it again. I thought it was just my mind playing tricks on me, ya know? Too many restless nights spent studying and being kept awake by the creaks and groans of an old building resting at night." Annabeth made another nervous attempt at a laugh, but found that it caught somewhere uncomfortable in her throat. She rested a hand on her left shoulder and gave herself a tiny, painful squeeze to center herself again. "But then I kept seeing it. In the kitchen, in the hallway, just out of reach every time I turned to get a good glimpse of it It would always return though. And it would just stand there. Watching me."

She took another shaky breath, before steeling herself for what would come next. "But then it... it got physical."

Annabeth slid off her jacket and could feel the once cozy room turn somewhat cold as she rolled up her t-shirt sleeve to reveal her left shoulder, which was covered in three, well-defined, deep scratch marks.

Percy's eyes were immediately on alert as they glued themselves to her shoulder, a concentrated frown carving itself into his features. Both Leo and Piper stopped what they were doing as they held their breath, waiting for Annabeth to continue. Leo's hands went white with how hard he was gripping his screwdriver.

"What happened?" was all Percy asked, calm for all the tense and chaotic energy that was rolling off him in dangerous plumes.

"It attacked me. While I was sleeping," Annabeth explained. Her grip on the jacket in her lap tightening. "I don't really know how to explain it. I was sleeping pretty soundly until I, I don't know, felt something watching me. And then there was this burning sensation on my shoulder. I woke up and saw this... this shadow thing just looming over my bed. I would have thought it was a nightmare if it hadn't reached out and yanked me out of my bed."

Annabeth shivered at the thought, shaking her head as if the motion would clear her mind of the memory of it. "I ran so fast out of my apartment, I don't think I even bothered to close the door. I ran down four flights of stairs, barefoot and in nothing but my pajamas until I got into my car and drove to a friend’s house. Haven't been back there since. That was over two weeks ago."

Annabeth rubbed her shoulder tenderly, feeling the grooves of the scratches and following them with her fingers. "I noticed the marks the day after it happened, but they still haven't gone away. They look and feel just as fresh as the day I got them." Percy's eyes followed her movements and Annabeth had to stop herself from throwing her jacket back on in an attempt to hide herself again.

"I can't live like this. I refuse to live like this. I already left my home once, I'm not about to do it again so soon. Not without a fight." Annabeth lifted her eyes and caught Percy's, holding his attention away from her shoulder, and pleading something unspoken into them. "But I don't even know where to start. That's why I need your guys’ help. And I'm not asking for much, just something that'll help things go back to normal. A charm or a bit of holy water is all I need."

A few beats of silence passed, Leo and Piper both looking at Percy for a sense of direction, before Percy stood up from his seat on the coffee table and brushed off his hands loudly. The clapping sound jolted everyone to attention.

"Holy water and charms won't be able to help you much. Not in the way you need them to," he said, walking over to the back of the couch Leo and Piper were sitting on and grabbing his jacket. He pulled out his phone from one of the pockets and scrolled through it in a matter of seconds, before closing it again and shoving it into his jean pocket. "Leo, you got any plans tonight?"

"If you're asking me on a date, you better treat me to dinner afterward." Leo smiled, putting down the radio and, after pushing Piper’s legs off not unkindly, shooting over to one of the many shelves and pulling out a duffle bag from one of the cubbies. "And if this is anywhere near poltergeist levels, then just know that cheap Chinese is not going to cut it."

"Woah, hold on, you're actually going tonight?" Piper said, sitting up in her seat, notebook now forgotten beside her. Sure enough, she had kept a good amount of notes of Annabeth's paranormal experience, as well as drew a few doodles of both Leo and Percy looking extremely dorky. "Percy, that isn't smart. Nico and Hazel won't be back till Tuesday, so it'll just be you and Leo. So no offense, but I don't like you guys going in without backup. Especially with a spirit that's already attacked someone."

"I take all the offense to that," Leo piped up from rummaging around in his duffle bag.

"Wait, what? You mean you’re going to my apartment yourselves?" Annabeth asked, surprised that they would even make the offer to take care of it personally. Annabeth didn't know that was an option, and immediately felt bad about it before Percy sent her a comforting wink.

"That's why you came here right? For help? Well, that's exactly what we're gonna do," Percy said, shifting his jacket on.

"I mean, we don't usually take house calls, but we've been known to make exceptions," Leo added, head somewhere hidden within his duffel bag.

"Percy, I'm all for taking this one on, but it's not safe. And it's already late and it's stormy out. Let's at least wait until tomorrow and do a bit of research before charging in there with all the grace of a rabid rhino," Piper argued, ignoring Leo and keeping her eyes solely trained on Percy, who gave her nothing but a confident shake of his head.

"It's not going to be any safer during the day Pipes, you know that. And two and a half weeks is long enough for Annabeth, I'm not going to make her wait any longer." Annabeth hoped her cheeks didn't turn a bright red when he turned towards her and gave her a quick shot of that crooked smile.

"Besides, Leo and I have done more with less, we'll be fine. Just keep Annabeth company here while we-"

"I'm coming with you," Annabeth interjected, standing up as well. All eyes turned on her when she spoke, and Percy shot her a worried brow.

"Annabeth, you don't have to," was all Percy got to say before Annabeth was already shrugging on her jacket, head shaking furiously.

"I came here cause I wanted to end this. I'm not going to continue to sit around and let this thing control my life any longer. I'm tired of being scared. I want to do something." Which was the truth. Annabeth had fully accepted the fact that this was her responsibility. Her problem to solve. As much as she was grateful for the extra help, Annabeth wasn't about to let them handle this by themselves.

Annabeth had spent too long pretending that nothing was wrong. She refused to be ignorant any longer. It was time for her to get back into control.

"I'm coming with you no matter what, so there's no point in arguing," Annabeth announced, and was surprised when Percy made no attempt to refuse her. Instead, he just shot her another crooked smile, more adventurous than the last one, and threw her one of the small backpacks he'd grabbed from the shelf.

Annabeth caught it, albeit a little haphazardly, and stared at him with a confused look as he grabbed one for himself and threw over his shoulders. "What's this for?" she asked, watching him walk over to where Leo was crouched on the floor. Percy knelt beside him and helped him pack a few things before Leo zipped it up and placed it on his shoulders.

"A Go-bag. Never go ghostbusting without one," Leo supplied, leaning over the couch frame and grabbing the still broken radio and shoving it into his duffle bag. "It's got all the essentials in it. A few snacks, a small med kit, flashlights, iron crowbars, holy water, salt bags, sage, and a few lighters cause ghosts like to screw with us and make sure our flashlights don't work. Banishing spells. The Bible-"

"We'll explain everything on the way over," Percy cut in, walking over to the fridge and throwing in a few cans of soda into his backpack. "You live in Queens, right? Should give us plenty of time to go over the basics. Can you also give Piper the address so she can look up some quick info for us on the property, just in case there's anything vital we should know."

"You're not coming with us?" Annabeth asked, turning her attention to Piper who was currently having a mental argument with Leo, as she sat up straight and reached for a laptop that had been stashed under the couch.

"Like I said before, I'm more of the club's manager," Piper answered, not turning her attention to Annabeth as she opening and turned on her laptop.

"Of sorts," Leo piped up before being caught off guard by the water bottle Percy had thrown at him while he wasn't looking.

"I don't really do the 'activity' part of the club. I stay behind and do research." Piper rolled her eyes at Leo, ignoring his feigned hurt as he complained to Percy rather loudly. "I make the websites and the posters. I advertise our club's abilities and look for supernatural cases for us to help out in. I research building information and history to give the boys any added edge to help them where they need it. Basically, I do all the work and they do all the heavy lifting."

"All the work, my ass," Leo interjected, pulling away from his bit with Percy to glare at Piper. "Percy and I do all the real work. You just sit there on your butt behind your computer all day."

"And I look great doing it too."

"Do you also see ghosts?" Annabeth asked, catching the water bottle Percy had thrown at her with ease, although to her credit, he had thrown it much less violently then he had at Leo. Leo sent a glare Percy's way at this, but Percy just shrugged in response, trying to stifle a shit-eating grin.

"Hardly," Leo said, unzipping his large duffle bag and pulling out a small camcorder that looked like it was going through a steampunk phase. "I'm the tech expert. I make sure all our gear is in check and working properly. Of course, often enough, the jerks just like to fry it, but that's why most of it's got these upgrades I added. I’d like to see Mr. Shadow Scratcher try and fry up this bad boy."

"Leo, you know better than anyone not to taunt spirits," Percy warned grabbing something Annabeth couldn't see from one of the bowls on the shelving units.

"I get electrocuted twice and suddenly I'm not allowed to trash talk anymore? What kind of world are we coming to?" Leo announced, pulling on his boots and walking over to a still very reluctant Piper and giving her a sloppy kiss on the top of her head. "Don't miss me too much, BQ. And make sure to order me some extra chili chicken wontons from Tang's. Percy's treat."

"I swear those things will kill you someday," Piper remarked coldly, but couldn't help the small smile that pressed on her lips when he just smiled at her in return.

"If wontons are the way I go, then that sounds like a life well lived to me. I'll load up the van," Leo patted Percy on the back before walking out the door, the cold hallway air entering the classroom for a split second before he closed the door again.

"Here's my address," Annabeth said, scribbling it down next to a doodle of Leo's face in Piper's notebook.

"You ready?" Percy asked, and Annabeth nodded in return as he gave a two-fingered salute to Piper.

"Call me when you get there, in case I find anything, please!" Piper called as Annabeth followed Percy out the door, giving her a waved goodbye. "Be safe! All three of you!"

And then Annabeth was back in the dark and damp hallway again. And a cold shiver ran up her spine just like last time. Except for this time, she wasn't alone.

"You sure, you want to do this?" Percy asked as he turned down the empty hallways with practiced ease, Annabeth right beside him. "You can just wait here for us. You don't have to force yourself to do anything."

"That's where you're wrong. I need to do this." Annabeth answered. She had spent a good portion of her life letting others control what should have been hers to deal with. She was tired of it. She moved to a new life where she could be the one to depend on herself again. She had already sorta failed in that aspect when this whole ghost situation started, but no more. She was done.

It was time to take back control of her life. Time to take back what was hers.

And Percy didn't have the slightest clue why she needed to do this, cause Annabeth wasn't about to divulge personal classified information about her past to him, but he nodded like that was all the convincing he needed. And Annabeth was silently glad he didn't push the subject farther.

"But, thank you, by the way." Annabeth supplied as they rounded another corner, her eyes keeping track on the ground below her in case any more rogue spiders decided to shoot out where she stepped. "You really didn't have to come with me. I would have been fine with just, like, some burned sage or something."

Percy smiled in that crooked, relaxed way of his, as he shouldered his backpack to a more comfortable position. "’Or something’ wouldn't have gotten rid of your ghost problem. Sure, the stuff helps, and it would have postponed any major activity, but that's not what you need." Percy's eyes quickly shifted to Annabeth’s left shoulder, and Annabeth could have sworn something dark and hurt passed through his eyes for merely half a second.

"No one deserves to go through what you did. You need peace of mind. Not just a solution to your problem, but your problem to be gone entirely. You're never gonna relax until you know that whatever is haunting your place is, well, not."

"And you guys can do that?" Annabeth asked as they came up to the large concrete staircase and began ascending its steps.

"Oh, we can do a lot more than that," Percy smiled, running a hand through his hair. A flash of blue caught Annabeth's eyes before his hair fell back into place again. "Like I said before, the small stuff helps. Piper's research gives us a start, and Leo certainly knows how to grab a ghost's attention in the worst kind of way."

Annabeth laughed at that as they reached the top of the staircase and she followed Percy as he took a back exit from the library, leading to a parking lot where Leo could be seen packing up a few things in the back of the small minivan. He waved through the rain, his hair bunched up around his face from his sweatshirt hood. Percy quickly rummaged through his backpack before pulling out an umbrella, holding it out over both him and Annabeth and giving her an encouraging smile.

"But when it comes to handling ghost problems, it helps to have someone who can actually talk with them."

#WHOO #FINALLY DONE #TOOK ME ALL FUCKING DAY JFC #Thank you to zack and ang who helped me edit #but also fuck you zack let me have my contractions #I hope you like it!#ghost hunter au #pjo #riordan #my fic #Shadows scars and salted lines

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parkjmini · 7 years

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power trip (m) | pkjm

fratboy!jimin smut a sleazy fratboy thinks he could get any girl he wants, until he meets you word count: 1851 genre: smut SMUT!! SMUT!! S MU T warning: sleazy jimin, dom!jimin, sub!jimin??, explicit language, oral

[a/n]: this is a continuation from dangerous waters !!! im honestly genuinely surprised at the amount of love dangerous waters got bc it was my first smut and i was scared it was going to be BAD but here’s a part two !!

Maybe he lost interest in you. Maybe he’d forgotten about the blue balls you gave him nights before. You sat in the library, doodling on the corner of your notebook. Your mind had been filled with thoughts of Jimin. Bad thoughts. Thoughts that you kept to yourself because they were just that foul to tell another soul.

Thinking about Jimin’s tongue made you squirm in your seat during lectures. It made you go insane, knowing that there was no way you’d cross paths. Jimin was in a completely different section of campus and your paths never intersected.

So you weren’t surprised at his idleness. He didn’t care that much about seeing you again. Guys like him can get laid any night they wanted, with whomever they wanted. It was hard to hide your disappointment though. You had so much hope in him.

You peered up at the sound of gasps echoing throughout the silent library. It was late at night, but there was always a handful of girls from your dorm that occupied the library.

Jimin came speed walking towards you, rather upset. Perking up, you tried to fix the falling strands from your messy ponytail. You looked like a complete mess. It was a study night for you and that usually meant a random t-shirt and sweats. Your hair was thrown into a loose, wild ponytail to get it out of your eyes.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been looking for you.” Jimin panted heavily as he slammed his hands onto your table.

Your eyes widen at his statement, and you blinked at him confused. “What?”

“I spent the past two weeks trying to figure out where you went, or where you were. If you hadn’t notice, you never exactly left me a number.” A light pink grazed upon your soft cheeks as you realized how you foolishly over analyzed the situation. Jimin had been looking for you.

“I was beginning to think you didn’t—”

“—well erase every negative thought about me not wanting you, because you’ve been all I’ve wanted recently.” You gulped at his suggestive comment and watched as his eyes darted from your lips to refocus on your eyes.

Getting up, you gathered your things. You whispered, “help me pack my things, so we can move into one of the study rooms.”

Jimin caught on and quickly helped you with your books. Everyone left in the library watched as Jimin The Sleaze pulled you towards the empty study rooms. He closed the door as softly as possible to avoid any suspicion from the librarian.

“Someone’s in a hurry. Why don’t you stay a bit, Jimin?” You said seductively, no longer needing to whisper due to the sound proof walls.

“Give me a reason to stay.” Jimin pulled out a chair and sat leisurely in it, legs spread wide open. He was wearing gray sweat pants and a long white shirt. His tasseled black hair peaked, exposing his forehead. He had silver rings that wrapped around his index and ring fingers. A sweet, sterling sliver bracelet dangling around his wrist.

“I’ll give you more than a reason.” You whispered as you approached him, exaggerating your hips a bit. Bending down, you grazed softly against his lips.

“Again with the teasing. I’ve waited too long for this to get teased.” He growled, his lust-filled eyes drank up your excitement. You kissed down his long, warm neck. Marking his skin, you heard him whimper a little. His soft whines caused you to grow wet, however, tonight was about taking care of him.

You wanted to show Jimin what you could do. He was no longer going to underestimate you. He showed you his talents the other night, it was only fair that it was now your turn.

“Jimin,” You moaned. He looked up at the sound of his name almost instantaneously.

“Yes, baby?” His responses were more of gasps now, and he swallowed hard every two minutes. The anticipation was completely destroying him. His obvious boner poked painfully through the fabric of his gray sweats, not going unnoticed.

His hips would raise off the chair to cause any friction and you knew how torturous it was for him. Maybe it was a power trip, but you loved how he melted under your gaze. “How much did you think about me?”

“Every day after that night.” He said quickly, his hooded eyes watched your movements. Your hands caressed his torso, feeling his solid body underneath your fingertips. “I couldn’t stop thinking about how your tongue would feel or how pretty you’d look with me in your mouth. I had so many nasty thoughts.”

“Tsk tsk, baby, why would you think of me like that?” You shook your head as your finger outlined his hard on through his sweats. Jimin sucked in his breath, his knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists. Kneeling in between his spread legs, your hands rested on his thick thighs.

“I couldn’t- uh- help it.” He stuttered, looking down at you.

You tugged his pants off, revealing his black briefs that hugged his body. His member being much more prominent, much more thick than you had expected.

Jimin wasn’t the tallest or the biggest guy on campus, which is why you were surprised when you slowly revealed his shaft. It sprung up, and hit his lower abdomen, standing rock hard with a red tip. He was spewing out precum, and your mouth watered.

You heard him hiss as the cold air lingered over his exposed meat. A hard swallow following after. Looking up, Jimin remained glued at you, aching at every movement. He was no longer the one in control.

Kissing his tip, Jimin’s body shuddered. “Oh my god! (Y/N), please!”

“Jimin, I barely touched you.” You laughed, his lubrication stringing from your lips to his tip.

He had been diligently searching for you and you didn’t want him to wait any more longer. You thought he deserved enough teasing.

Slowly, your mouth wrapped around his member. You stopped halfway, not entirely giving him satisfaction.

Jimin’s gasps and moans filled the study room. Your hand held him at the base, and stroked as you moved up and down, coating him in your saliva. Jimin was a little too big to fit into your mouth, so you tried your best.

“Baby, you’re so good.” Jimin’s head fell backwards on the chair, his mouth hung open.

You sucked harder and harder each time you went down. His legs started to shake and he perked up. He was a moaning mess as you quickened your pace, his cheeks tinted a beautiful pink.

“Mmhm, fuck. I can’t – oh my god –” He was at lost for words, his hand gripped your ponytail. He pushed your head further down, hoping you could take all of him.

Your big, round eyes stared up at him, watering as his tip hit the back of your throat. He pulled you off, but you continued licking his veiny cock.

“Are you going to cum for me, baby?” You asked softly as you put him back into your mouth.

He nodded, unable to form coherent words from the pleasure he was receiving. His hips began to move, fucking your face. However, you didn’t allow him to gain control.

You held him down against the chair and he groaned. “Ah, (Y/N). I’m so close, just — a little uh – more.” He pleaded, wanting to thrust into your wet mouth.

You sucked him quicker as you cupped his balls. He squealed softly at your touch, turning into such a soft boy.

“I’m going to cum, baby.” His voice was hoarse, and desperate. His eyes constantly jumped between your own and his dick in your mouth. He relished the scene of the risque visual, pushing him closer to the edge.

His small hands gripped onto your ponytail as he exclaimed, “I’m cum—”

Suddenly, the door opened as Jimin ejaculated into your mouth, filling you up with his salty juices. Jimin fell silent at the interruption, but his hips unconsciously moved to drag out his orgasm.

“What’s going on in here?” The librarian asked.

That was when Jimin froze, but you knew she wouldn’t be able to see you underneath the table. You continued to suck him dry, him still cumming. He bit his lip, afraid moans would blurt out instead.

“I’m just studying.” He said unbelievably. He grunted as the pleasure slowly became too much.

“Where’s (Y/N)? I saw her come in with you.” The librarian asked and you wanted to laugh at how distressed Jimin looked above. You released him to swallow, and licked the excess that dripped from his tip. This caused him to shudder, his face contouring as well.

“Are you okay, Jimin?” The librarian asked.

“Uh- I’m fine.” He moaned, surprising himself. He cleared his throat, before answering her previous question. “She went to the bathroom, I think.”

“Okay. Sorry for interrupting your studying. I thought something strange was happening.” She said before closing the door.

Jimin peered down at you giving him kitty licks at his semi-hard cock. A smirk planted on your tired face, staring back at him with your wondrously big orbs. He held you back by your shoulders, shaking from too much over stimulation. “Too- much.”

“You’re whines are so cute, Jimin. I didn’t expect that from you.” You stood up, and leaned down to give him one last kiss. Jimin caressed your face, his tongue fighting with yours.

“I- I- didn’t know I could react like that too.” He admitted shyly, diverting away from his usual cool fratboy personality.

You chuckled a bit, your heart soaring at how he had sweetly moaned your name. You remembered his diligent praise and gentle touches.

“Why did you continue when she walked in? We could’ve been caught.” Jimin asked as he pulled up his clothing.

You gathered your things. “I guess you could say I like the risk.”

Jimin blinked at you, shocked by your confidence. “What? Was Jimin the Sleaze afraid of a little exposure?” You taunted and headed for the door. Jimin hurried to stop you from leaving.

“(Y/N), why are you always leaving me?” His round, puppy dog eyes pleaded you for an answer, a pout resting on his face.

“I wouldn’t want you to get too comfortable with me. I like surprises, receiving and giving.” You winked and Jimin’s hand fell from the handle.

“You’re a wild one, Dorm J. Leave me a number this time, okay? I want to take you out sometime.” He asked so kindly, you couldn’t refuse. You scribbled your digits on his skin, before you left him in the study room.

A few girls stared at you, gasping at your riled up appearance. However, you didn’t care about their judgment. The only thing that was on your mind was the beautiful, fratboy Park Jimin.

[a/n]: not really sure how i feel about this one?? this wasnt as good ?? im not sure honestly hahaha also !! there is one more part to this ((-: so pls anticipate it and let me know how yall feel abt this so far (((-:

next/final part ---> ride

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