#can we talk about how her hair just keeps changing shades of purple?
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Coloring Tutorial
Hello, this tutorial is for the wonderful @djoharrington and those of you wondering how I colored this set. I’m going to be talking about how to color the first gif only to keep this tutorial from getting too long. The other two used the same coloring method with only minor adjustments made to keep them looking similar.
Yes, this scene really is that dark before coloring.
Quick notes on what I’m using:
mpv player for screencapping — not mentioned in tutorial
Photoshop 2021 for editing
I mention mpv player because I’m giffing 4k, and it’s one of the few players I’ve come across that take continuous caps that don’t end up looking washed out. It makes for easier coloring.
This is me coloring literally any Upside Down scene:
Step 1: brighten the hell out of this gif
You can use a throwaway layer to get you started. I used an exposure layer (which I eventually kept and adjusted during the original process of coloring this scene) with end settings of: exposure at +5.25, offset and gamma correction at default.
Now we can see all the beautiful details of Nancy’s face. Well, most of them.
Step 2: photo filter layer 1
The way I offset this horrid blue tint they use for Upside Down scenes is a photo filter layer (several for this particular scene). For now, just the one. Put this below the exposure layer!
This brings a bit of color back to Nancy’s face and warms up the blue tones that are so prevalent in Upside Down scenes.
I don’t change the blending mode, opacity, or fill, just keep as is.
Step 3: curves layer 1
I clicked around a lot with this layer. Mostly in an attempt to get rid of the blue and adding more color to Nancy’s face. Didn’t get the result I was looking for with this layer until I added other layers. But I managed to brighten the gif a little more and add some contrast.
Step 4: hue/saturation layer
Put this layer below the photo filter layer! I used this layer to balance out the colors I pulled from the curves layer. Brought back some warmth/purples by adjusting cyans and blues.
Step 5: selective color layer 1
Ended up a little more purple than I wanted with the hue/sat layer, so I used a selective color layer (set between the hue/saturation layer and the photo filter layer) to get rid of the purple by, again, adjusting cyans and blues.
Make sure to have “Absolute” marked!
This is better! There’s a lot more color that isn’t blue in Nancy’s face now that I can work with and manipulate.
Step 6: color balance layer
This one goes on top of the curves layer (should be the topmost layer at this point). Only adjusted Midtones and Shadows, adding a little more red and yellow in her hair and face.
This looks a lot more natural. Now we just have to brighten it up again.
Step 7: exposure and curves layer 2
I don’t touch the RGB mode on this curves layer. I mostly adjust the Red, Green, and Blue modes by adding a little more red and green while sliding the bottom corner on Blue to add more yellow to the shadows.
Technically, I could stop here if I wanted, but the purple is still pretty prominent in the gif, especially in Nancy’s eyes, and it’s hard to adjust that without adjusting the color of the entire canvas since there’s movement in this gif. If Nancy were more of a still subject here, then layer masks are an option. Alas…
So I adjust the colors and try to get rid of the purple. The gif as a whole kind of looks washed out as well. I want more color here.
Step 8: photo filter layer 2
I set the opacity to 55%. I want warmth, but not too much.
Step 9: selective color layer 2
This is where I end up seeing the most change. Even small adjustments go a long way here.
It’s mostly the cyans, blues, and magentas which makes sense given how overwhelmingly blue this scene was, then almost overwhelmingly purple as I started making adjustments. Red and yellows are important for anything to do with the face and hair. This is where I add a more “natural” shade to Nancy. Literally anything that isn’t fucking blue is an improvement to me at this point, given how it started out.
Blue is back in the background where it belongs and not in Nancy’s face.
I think this is where I originally stopped. Like this looks pretty good to me, but I also wanted to make sure the other two gifs could be colored similarly, and they were for the most part. But there was only so much adjusting I could do to Nancy’s face in the third gif without adjusting the entirety of the scene (and set), so I had to go back and adjust her here to get a similar coloring.
(A lot of this set was back and forth, adjusting the colorings until they matched. It took so long. Especially with the stupid Upside Down visual effects in the background. I’m a bit of a perfectionist, so there were a lot of minor adjustments and a lot of nitpicking until I ended up with a result I liked.)
So last and final step.
Step 10: selective color layer 3
I ended up adding more red to the face, hair, and shadows to keep the first and third gif similar in coloring. And this is where we get our final product.
And the side-by-side comparison again.
Anyway, here you have it. This is the end of the tutorial. I can in no way guarantee that this method will work on other Upside Down scenes (trust me, I’ve tried), but hopefully you’ve learned something!
And hopefully I’ve explained myself well enough that you can apply this :)
#text#photoshop#tutorials#coloring tutorial#gif tutorial#photoshop tutorial#*tutorials#Stranger Things#djoharrington#requested
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Random Thoughts I Had While Rewatching Wicked World S1:
(yes I am fully aware its a kids show with limited time but I will still yell about things XD)
They REALLY had to make Mall's eyes gray? brown? seems to change but still, her eyes are GREEN
"At my birthday parties" You had ONE birthday party Evie. One.
And evil minion bakers? Really?
Wait, so Miss "Give Your Spellbook to the Museum" D2 Evie is here, sixish months before or whatever the timeline in, begging Mal to use magic to help her?
Why is Evie so shallow in this?
WHY IS SHE SO DITZY? Stop, Evie would know not to eat chemicals DX (Actually, I bet most Isle kids would know that)
WHAT IS BEN'S OUTFIT! None of that goes together. Bring his suit back. Or goodness gracious, why not a simple button down and slacks? Blue and black. What is this?
pffft, Ak's making up words
so Audrey also has a single dorm.
It took Jane FOURTEEN YEARS to realize she has magic? No, I refuse.
at least Audrey and Ben are still friends
Seriously, there is no timeline in this world
Sustainable urban planning. You know, for someone who wanted nothing to do with the Isle in D2, Evie sure is invested in making it a better place
"Thanks to my dad" *gasp* Is Ben throwing shade at his father
I'm sorry, I can not get behind Aurora's daughter afraid of some mud
The fact that Mal loves it is hilarious
I wonder when Evie finally donated her mirror
I know that a lot of people headcanon Freddie and Uma being sisters since China voiced Freddie, but tbh I think it would be interesting if they're cousins.
(Yes i like the hc, I just have Uma's dad as someone else and then came up with the cousins thing XD)
"retract your claws" "But I just had them sharpened!"
Seriously, yo mama battles?
So how old IS CJ? I'm guessing 13 or 14, but they almost imply she's around Mal's age... but unless she and Harry have different mom's that doesn't work.
Jordan, WHY are you doing a southern belle accent?
I want to see Beast's funny birthday dance
a two hour exam on SMILING?
so it definitely seems canon that the VKs were dragged online, and always end up on there even if they had no clue their pictures were being taken. Could factor into Mal's D2 transformation and breakdown
are we SURE this is the same Lonnie in the movies?
The fact that the Auradon Girls are singing "Good is the New Bad"
so whatever happened with this whole cheerleading thing for Evie and Mal
That doesn't sound like Jay either!
"You lied to keep him from bugging you" I like this Ben
But Evie WASN'T AROUND WHEN YOU WERE KIDS
HOW does Carlos speak dog? This makes no sense
the fact that Audrey is hanging out in Evie and Mal's room
I am getting fed up with all the made up words
I wonder how many people just randomly brush Ruby's hair
"I want to go from the one who lost the crown to the one who won!" Highly doubt that was intended to be D3 foreshadowing, but it makes good foreshadowing
The fact that they are fighting over the color of purple Mal wears
And here's Jane, accusing Mal of stealing
The fact that everyone keeps accusing Mal of things. Seriously, no wonder the poor girl thought she had to change her appearance and herself to the point of breaking down
but why didn't she TALK TO BEN
Actually, I wouldn't be surprised if Jay still struggles with stealing sometimes. Same for even Aladdin and Eugene.
Mal being so supportive of Jane is adorable
The fact that Jane is still suspicious of the VK's
They're accusing her of KIDNAPPING her own BOYFRIEND
and WHERE IS THE SECURITY?! THE HIGH KING IS THERE! AND OTHER ROYAL CHILDREN
#thisisnotmyLonnie
CJ liking Mal is interesting considering how Harry feels about her.
#again#I know its a show#i just poke fun#there is still no excuse for bad characterization#or Ben's outfits#disney descendants#descendants
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It's Okay Not To Be Okay
As the days flew by your weapon of choice came in it was a two chain linked katana that extended out like a whip made of small curved blades when you swung it around. It was elegant, sleek, graceful and perfect for slashing anything to pieces, your kasugai crow which you promptly named Yuki landed on your shoulder and cawed a greeting nodding her head which you returned. "Lady Y/N L/N please quickly head north west of here a concerning amount of women have been disappearing Kamado Tanjiro Is already on his way there but your presence is requested as well to make sure things go smoothly" Yuki murmured as you stroked her feathers.
A heavy sigh falls from your lips as you thought about having to be shacked up that chatter box for a couple of nights. "Alright", you sighed defeatedly glancing and set off for the northern area enjoying the silence before the storm, it wasn't long before you crossed paths with your fellow slayer Tanjiro, instantly upon seeing you he ran over like an excited dog and began talking your ear off which you gave short one worded replies to. He didn't seem to get that you didn't want to talk and just kept rambling on, "it's so nice to see you again, whats your weapon look like what color did it change to when you touched it?"
He beamed as you turned and glared at him over your shoulder, "do you ever stop talking?" You snapped annoyed causing him to recoil and laugh awkwardly, "haha I' have been talking alot huh" he said softly and you sighed rubbing your face and regretting your next actions thoroughly. "It's two chain linked katana that becomes a whip made of smaller blades when swung" you explained with a faint smile and after a brief pause, "and it turned light purple" you finished as tanjiro beamed up at you "wow that's so cool !".
He beamed and you fought off the urge to smile at his innocent enthusiasm, friendship is a weakness your mind echoed in your inner self reminding you of all the people you loved dearly that were gone forever. Don't let him in keep him OUT you told yourself sternly before speeding up a little bit and bumping into a disoriented boy, he had pale skin that seemed a bit greyed, his hair short, black as coal as a chilling dark shade of purple with staring at nothing a he looked up past you. "You should watch where you're going" you hissed helping him back to his feet (even though you bumped into him) and brushing him off he gave you a blank stare mumbling a quick "uh", "Mister Kazumi" Tanjiro called and the man turned slowly to him "I want to hear what happened last night from you" the man- Kazumi just stared blankly mumbling "alright then follow me".
He then lead you to the edge of the village between two fences "this is where she vanished" he said a a monotone dejected voice "but I'm sure you don't believe me" he finished you stood next to Tanjiro examining the clearing for something suspicious or out of the ordinary "we do believe you, and we're here to help" Tanjiro spoke earning a eyeroll from you "don't speak on my behalf" you muttered under your breath "oh" he blinked "you don't actually believe he had a hand to play in the disappearance do you?" Tanjiro murmured with a tilted head and furrowed brows and you pursed your lips doing a quick sweep of Kazumi, "no" you finally replied after a moment of contemplation "but you'd be surprised what some people can get up to in the shadows when they think no one is looking".
Tanjiro looked at you confused and it was clear your breath was wasted on him, "look just don't go trusting anyone all willy nilly that's how you get yourself in trouble", Tanjiro smiled at you "right" he said before dropping to the floor and sniffing the ground......what the fuck is he doing god he's a fucking weirdo why did I have to get paired up with this idiot....out of the corner of your eye you caught Kazumi being weird as well caressing his cheek which seemed swollen and crying....gods please don't cry I'm terrible with emotions....... "got something" Tanjiro suddenly shouted from the ground and took off running without giving any kind of explanation. With an annoyed sigh you and Kazumi gave chase and followed him to the homes where he sat crouched sniffing a wall. People started to stop stare and whisper about Tanjiro's weird antics and you hid your face behind your palm as you rested you hand at the side of your face "Kamado stop being weird" you hissed through clench teeth but he ignored you and just kept sniffing the ground while you and Kazumi watched on in confusion, soon enough day bleed into night as you still found yourself patrolling the streets of the village "I want you to believe me, me she really did vanish" Kazumi spoke up softly you squinted at him still not entirely believing him but not ruling out demons just yet Tanjiro turned with a confidence and said I know".
He face was serious his smile long gone replaced by a neutral stare "that's why I came here to stop this...we will find the demon who did this" he finished and continued walking with you and Kazumi in pursuit as the moon rose higher into the night a certain unease settled in the pit of your stomach and your hand rested on the edge of your blade, Tanjiro must've felt it too because he mimcked your stance...smart boy you completely tuned out Kazumi and Tanjiro as they conversed feeling that uneasy feeling grow...a demon was in the area...you're just not sure where yet and then suddenly Tanjiro grabbed your hand running off again without explaining anything "where are we going now?"
You hissed and he didn't bother answering as you sped through the streets "we have to hurry the scents stronger the demon's active " was the only thing he said before jumping on a roof, you quickly followed suit wondering how the fuck he knew that but you could question him later right now you had a mission and lives were at stake running along the rooftops the too of you dropped into the same fenced in area as earlier and slide to a stop. You unsheathed you're nichirn blades and dropped into a fighting stance "why are we in a empty area kamado" you asked but he ignored you angling his sword into the ground and striking causing black water to spew forth and spread along the floor which you swiftly backed away from, floating in the water was a hoari and you swiftly grabbed it hauling the girl from the water and jumping back right as a pale grayish purple demon claw extended forth snatching at the rims of her kimono and tearing the fabric.
"What did you do with the girls you kidnapped" Tanjiro shouted and your lips formed a tight line as you thought it was quite obvious what happened to them, instinctively your hands tightly coiled around the unconscious girl tighter.... never again would you allow a demon to ruin an innocent life...if you could help it...starting with this girl the demon began grinding your teeth and you winced as that sound was very annoying "there are some things I want to know" Tanjiro continued to speak but the demon just glared in annoyance and dropped back into the floor. Shit I can't defend myself if he attacks me your mind echoed as you braced for an attack but right on time Kazumi appeared.
You quickly handed the unconscious girl to him, "hold her and stay behind us" you instructed picking up your weapons again as he just stared "as long as you do that we can protect you" Tanjiro stated walking forward you tensed watching the walls and ground closely suddenly Tanjiro turned in your direction but three inky black puddles formed on the ground as six pairs of arms reached for him Tanjiro was quick to leap out of the ring of demons and swiftly shot forth slashing on of your blades.
The blade unfurled itself with a metal snapping sound and swiftly decapitated two of the demons but the third one mange to slink back into the inky pool like a bug and you cursed under your breath. "Wow you're so amazing !" Tanjiro exclaimed with wide eyes as you kicked him in the chest sending him stumbling back and out of the way of the demons slashing claws "STAY FOCUS" you snapped and he flushed "r-right" suddenly the demon growled "BASTARD" reemerging from the inky black water.
You we're quick to switch position and crack your whip like sword sending it's sharp point towards the demons throat at break neck speeds but it dipped back into the water "she'll go stale stay out of the way you little punks" the hissed reemerging from a wall to slash at you, but Tanjiro swiftly cut off it's arm, "the girl's sixteen already she's loosing flavor by the second" it screeched in a crazed rant "if I don't eat her soon there won't be any flavor at all" the blood in your veins began to boil, how dare it? How dare it say such cruel things! the echo of bubbling water sounded behind Tanjiro and swiftly whipped your other sword behind you catching the rising demon by surprise and decapitating it before a word could fall from it's lips, Tanjiro gazed at you in silent admiration for a moment as you stepped forward "enough games let's kill this thing now".
Tanjiro nodded and the demon slunk back into the murky water silence engulfed the clearing as you tried to predict where the demon would come from there was a chance it would go for Kazumi and the unconscious girl...but you we're guarding it so it probably wouldn't risk it, then it could always go for you but you've decapitated it three times already...it was most likely cloning itself and seeing as you've already torn through three of the clones sending more clones to attack you or it'd true form..so that only left Tanjiro.
Leaping forward you cracked you sword and right as the demon reemerged from the ground with it's sharp like talons pointed at Tanjiro's eye but your whip like blade cut cleanly through it's arm making it hiss and screech at you "you little bitch" it spat venomously grabbing your ankle shit I underestimated it your mind raced in panicked alarm as it began swiftly dragging you into the water but Tanjiro quickly tackled you knocking you out of the demons grasp as it hissed again grinding it's teeth. "You okay?" Tanjiro asked as you both sat breathing heavily you opened your mouth to scold him for taking his eyes off the enemy but quickly wrapped your arms around him rolling him and yourself out of the way of the demons slashing claws from the ground, quickly springing to your feet and slashing at yet another of the clones severing both it's arms and head.
"You stupid stupid little bitch GET OUT OF MY WAY DIE DIE DIE DIE" the demon shouted as all the clones slashed and clawed at you from multiple inky black pools all around but you and Tanjiro fought back to back paring each strike and returning one of your own, "we can't keep fighting like this" Tanjiro spoke over the growling of the demon "I agree but we don't have much of an opening" you countered stabbing one of the clones hands and cutting off it's finger, "I have an idea cover for me" he said with an air of confidence so you gripped both hilts of your swords and began slashing mercilessly through the hands of his clones as Tanjiro dove for one of the inky black pools.
Your eyes widened in alarm as you looked at him baffled earning a nasty slash to the cheek due to your momentary distraction quickly cutting through one of the demon clones you rushed over catching Tanjiro by his foot before he fully disappeared into the water and pulled him out, "what are you doing?"
He asked squirming in your grasp "what am I doing what are you doing why are you going in there" you seethed a vein pulsing on the side of your head "we have to kill the main demon and I think in here so I was going to go after it" you blocked an attack from the demon and glared down at Tanjiro, "we're you dropped on the head as a child that's literally the dumbest shit I've ever heard your going to try and beat the demon in it's own turf while submerged in murky water that it's accustom too....how do you plan to kill it?"
You seethed and Tanjiro looked at you confused with an arched brow "with a breathing style" he said in a tone as if it was the most obvious thing in the world "AND HOW THE FUCK DO YOU PLAN ON USING A BREATHING STYLE UNDER WATER YOU FUCKING IDIOT" Tanjiro opened his mouth to protest but then his cheeks tinted pink and a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead "oh yeah you're right...I'm sorry" he mumbled and you kicked him (a little harder than needed) out of the way of the demon slashing claw "don't be sorry use your fucking head you have a brains for reasons". You groaned as the demons claws slashed your thigh. A pained hiss escaped you as you gripped your thigh tearing a piece of fabric from your undershirt and wrapping it tightly around your thigh "MOVE OUT OF THE WAY" Kazumi shouted shoving you aside as you stood back up tacking a slash to the arm for you, you quickly recovered springing at the demon and decapitating it's head before turning around eyes lightly widening as you stared down five razor claws coming for your eye. Shit it's too fast, I won't be able to react your thoughts rang through your ears your hands tensed around the hilts of your swords and tensed awaiting the lethal blow, but out of your peripheral vision you saw a burgundy blur before Tanjiro slashed through the demons arms and it stumbled to the ground backing up to the wall while grinding it's teeth and hissing at the two of you.
Blood splattered your face but you wiped it with your sleeve collapsing onto the ground as the pain from your thigh became a bit too much, you took a deep breath wincing softly and applying pressure to try and stop the bleeding making sure to pact the wound while watching the exchange between Tanjiro and the demon "are you alright that cut looks nasty and you're bleeding from the cheek" Kazumi murmured drawing closer to you "trust me I've been through worse" you shudder at the memory of being almost swallowed before looking up at Kazumi "sorry we couldn't save your friend" you murmured softly and his smiled fell for a second "it's fine" he murmured helping you up and you smiled at him in gratitude Tanjiro walked over and offered Kazumi a scrap of the girls clothing and murmured a few things you didn't care to pay attention to.
Instead you carried on (although with a limp) wondering what your next mission would be, "h-hey wait up" Tanjiro called but you would do no such thing and kept walking forward he eventually caught up to touchign your shoulder gently "hey are you ok-" he started but you cut him off by pointing your nichirn blade at him "don't touch me" you hissed and he raised his hands in surrender "b-but you're hurt pretty badly you should let me help you we're on the same side you know" he said with an awkward laugh, "I don't need your help I'm fine on my own" you hissed pushing him forward and limping forward.
Tanjiro followed behind you quietly before speaking up "you know if you keep forcing yourself you're only gonna hurt yourself more...let me help" he pleaded and you turned to glare at him "what part of I. DON'T. NEED. YOUR. HELP do you not understand?" You hissed but Tanjiro was undeterred "pleas just a little bit here let me" he said scooping you up bridal style and carrying you "so help me if you don't put me down" you hissed squirming in his grasp but his grip was strong "you're in no condition to argue with me, you're injured It would be a bad idea to aggravate any injuries you may have sustained so I'll take you to a doctors to get you all patched up".
You hissed at him pushing against his face and chest but he was unbudging "stop talking to me like I'm a damn child I don't need nor do I want your help fuck off" he looked down at you with furrowed brows "I just don't get what's your aversion to help, you know receiving help doesn't make you any less valuable right? I understand you're a fully capable slayer, actually a lot more than capable than a lot of us but sometimes even the best of us need help and this is one of those times", he said in an air of finality that left little room for argument you simply huffed in annoyance at his persistence letting out a sigh as you quietly concede but not without rolling your eyes at the smirk that spread across his lips "wipe that smug smirk off your face I wouldn't be in this position if it wasn't for you're incompetence". Tanjiro laughed awkwardly "yeah sorry about that" he murmured softly and you rolled your eyes "I told you, don't be sorry be better" you muttered and Tanjiro sighed "okay" he hummed and the two of you walked in a semi peaceful silence
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Kai/Kaia
The Best Merfriend
❝I'm not letting you go by yourself. We merfolk stick together.❞
❝I love you. I loved you the moment I met you. I always have. And I always will.❞
Age: A few days older than MC
Race: Merfolk
Gender: Male or female, depending on player choice
Pronouns: He/him or she/her, depending on player choice
Physical appearance: As a Merfolk, K has a dark purple tail and matching violet eyes. Depending on if they are male or female, their hair style changes. If male, K has short light brown hair that can be best described as unruly. If female, K has the same shade of brown and it reaches to her waist, thus why she has to tie it up. Either way, K has a peach complexion. As a human, they are [REDACTED]
Trope(s): Friends-to-lovers, denial, belated love ephiphany
K has been your best friend since you were little. What started out as family friends strengthened into a closer, deeper bond. They know a lot about you—more than your family does. You can always trust them to keep secrets and tell stories that always makes you laugh. K is friendly, caring, and loyal to a fault; especially to you.
Besides being friendly, K is a ray of sunshine. They tend to view things with an optimistic view and is always willing to help out others. The only exception is with humans. If they notice someone sad, frowning, or in a bad mood, K would try everything to cheer that person up. They are naive and curious too, which some have said will be their downfall. They do not care.
It is no secret to you that K wants to go to the surface. Despite everything you had been told—that humans are bad—it has yet to deter them. It was all they ever talked about, and though you had told them to stop, you can still see the spark of determination in their bright purple eyes. It is just a matter of when.
Their intuition is their greatest talent. They do not have to turn around to notice someone—in fact, K already felt the presence before acknowledging them. This gives them an advantage during hunts, as they can sense humans and danger quickly. Can and will 100% sneak up on you, giving you the jumpscare of your life.
Fun Facts About K:
In a modern world, their nickname would be "Special K"
Best puppy eyes and the worst at resisting them
Least amount of slowburn, but they are in denial for a while. Reasonable, considering they have felt things for MC before but always pushed them down.
Oh yeah, they also used to have a crush on MC. Might still have it depending on how you feel about them...or might not
Favorite animal are jellyfishes
Purple magic signature and aura
Knowledgeable about human fashion. They are good at observing and taking information and using it to create their own line brand.
Acrobatic and can do backflips, somersaults, etc...underwater. You don't question the logic.
Against eating seafood—how could you not think about that lobster?? It could have been the mother of, like, 50,000 baby lobsters! You never know! Why? Because you ate it—
Intolerant to alcohol. Will get drunk by the first two sips
You have to keep your eye on K all the time when on land. They are likely running all over town looking at everything and trying everything and creating chaos with their hyperactive energy. Good luck to you and Maddox
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StarGazing
hey day 4 legggooooo
Meg has always loved watching the stars, Streya has definitely added to that.
StarGazing
Meg had always loved studying the stars. Looking at everything she may never reach. Now she could reach it all, Streya would happily take her to visit anything she dreamt of. She's even seen Pluto.
None of that matched up to the nights she still spent alone staring at the stars. She was curious how Streya's presence changed things. All night she hadn't seen the cosmic woman or the constellations she'd watched for most of her life. Every single one she looked for was gone. She scribbled note after note about the changes.
If Streya knew she'd probably worry. Consider the changes something bad she was doing and try to fix it. The idea of the massive woman panicking and poking at the pinprick size stars made Meg laugh.
"Why are you laughing?" Streya's voice made her jump. Meg searched for the eye colored like the planet, but couldn't find her. It was easy to think she imagined Streya was nearby.
She tried to go back to the stars, but this time they were moving. Moving too much to be a simple trick. She paled only to immediately blush when it dawned on her. The entire time she'd been staring at Streya.
The image in front of her changed until the cosmic woman was visible, or at least enough Meg could make out that she was there. Her cheeks grew warmer when she realized she'd been staring at Streya's chest. The stars that made up the flowing gown that covered the giantess disappeared. The eye Meg had searched for finally appeared.
"You're changing colors again, you promise that's not bad? I met other little beings that only change when they get hurt," Streya said. It was odd to consider someone so big was so easy to hear. Her voice should be painful, or more likely inaudible. Yet each time was calm and soft, almost a whisper.
"I'm fine, really," Meg whispered. She often fell into a whisper in response. Streya had no idea that happened. "If you want to talk we should probably head away from the planet."
That's the closest Meg ever came to asking Streya to take her out into space. Suggesting they move away, where things were just the two of them. Where no one who was afraid of the kind being who admired humanity even with the trouble it causes. The eye she could see started to sparkle, just like the stars she loved.
"I learned I could make it so just you hear me!" Streya's excitement didn't reach Meg. She didn't have an excuse to be taken off earth anymore. Streya would humor her, but for how long? She'd accept it at least. Streya herself was a marvel. One greater than the stars.
"That's amazing," Meg said. She should be happy Streya was learning more about herself. There were thousands of things the woman never thought of and now she could test them out. Meg offered her a smile, shocked to see a strand of hair hovering near her.
"Will… will you still come with me? I like when I can hold you."
Meg checked her pockets for her mini telescope then walked forward. "Of course."
The strand of hair offered a soft glow that reminded her of the oceans. That always seemed weird, the hair itself was a shade of purple. Her body started to hover as Streya changed to pull her free from her planet. The science behind the changes that took place to do this seemed impossible. Considering Streya existed there might not be any.
Meg was pulled up, the world flashing by. It was a bit surprising this never made her sick. In seconds she was away from earth, floating in space. The brief glimpses she got before Streya encompassed her vision were always amazing. Then she was set on a finger, the smooth skin still keeping her from seeing much other than the cosmic woman.
"I learned something else too," Streya said. The whisper part of her voice disappeared out in space. Meg assumed she just didn't whisper when they weren't near the planet, but she had no way to tell. "I tested it on little things from other planets. Can I try it?"
"Sure," Meg yelled. Out here it felt like she had to yell. How else would she be heard across the void of space?
Streya's finger moved and Meg with it. She got glimpses of space as she was left to the will of something impossible to comprehend. She was pressed to the forehead of the impossible woman. Her body started to heat up. The warmth was kind and welcoming. It was easy to wish it would never leave.
All too soon the warmth was gone. Meg blinked, expecting Streya's spacelike skin. Instead she met the most beautiful stars she'd ever seen. They were so small. Instinctively she reached out to one, desperate to know more, but she paused.
The arm she extended wasn't her own. It wasn’t Streya’s either. Something else that let her be in control. Looking around she found her planet, her home, small next to her. Smaller than her fingers. Whatever was done left her smaller than Streya by a large margin still. Another look around and this time she could see how the gown of stars stood out. They weren’t quite the same as the other brilliant lights.
Slowly looking up she found Streya, holding her hands together. Meg wasn’t even sure she could speak like this, but it was beautiful. Streya moved closer to her, with a massive smile. Seeing her, seeing more of her than just part of an eye, was breathtaking.
“You like all the lights right? You call them stars I think,” she asked. Her voice sounded different. More like talking to another human. The tone was light and airy, filled with kindness. As though malice could never exist in the speaker’s mind. “You can see them a lot better like this. I can’t do this for very long, but now you don’t have to be scared if you get close to the big one, what do you call it again?”
“The sun?” Meg asked. Her voice sounded like an echo. Far away, not coming from her. Streya looked at her hands again. The woman’s soft smile was one that would normally send Meg’s heart racing, but… her heart wasn’t beating at all. She wanted to ask, to know so much more.
“Yes that thing. I’ll keep you safe, look around. See what I see! Look at the little thing you live on, isn’t it beautiful?”
Meg looked at the Earth, then to all the stars around her. Beautiful wasn’t enough to describe things right now. Then she looked at Streya. The cosmic being was still massive, nearly impossible to fathom, but she stood out. Out of everything Meg could see there was nothing more beautiful floating in this void of space.
“Truly beautiful,” she whispered.
Streya grabbed the arm that Meg’s mind was tied to. She could barely see the speck the real her made up on the woman���s other hand. The impossible fingers closing over her tiny body. Someone so impossible saw her and remembered how she liked the stars. Streya was bringing her all over the solar system, a smile glowing brighter than the sun the whole time.
Meg had spent an entire life stargazing. She thought she’d dream of going up there, studying them. That she would never fully understand things, but leave something for others like her. In every dream and fantasy she never once imagined the stars would gaze back. She never wanted that gaze to turn away.
#gt#giant/tiny#giant tiny#g/t#g/t writing#gt writing#gianttiny#gt community#g/t community#oc: streya#collaboc:meg#gt july 2023#gt july#gt july stargazing
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please Please PLEASE give us more street racer Bucky. You’ve got me absolutely hooked and I would soak up anything you give me about them - even if it’s just them getting a coffee together. Your writing is so gorgeous 💕
You might regret it, I'm in a hurting kinda mood ❤️🩹
Run These Streets {3} || Street Racer!Bucky
Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, medical terms, car crash, injury, fluff, angst
WC: 1.4k
Bucky Masterlist || Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four
This was your very worst nightmare and it was unfolding right before your eyes. The acrid scent of burning steel and the sharp burn of smoke in your lungs, choking you with every breath. A part of you was grateful it wasn’t Bucky’s car on fire as you heard the other driver screaming for help that you couldn’t give, you had to get to Bucky. The 70’s muscle car hadn’t crumpled like the late model Subaru that had crashed into him, shunting him towards a concrete barrier before flipping onto its top.
“Bucky!” You screamed as you dropped to your stomach, glass snagging at your skin as you crawled through the passenger window. Bucky’s hands were slack against the roof as he hung suspended from his seat, the harness keeping a secure hold on him as you inched through the tight space and saw the trickle of blood running down his face. “Baby, I need you to talk to me, open your eyes, anything dammit!”
“Give her girlfriend status and suddenly she’s all bossy.” Bucky chuckled before groaning. “Where’s the kid?”
“Don’t worry about him, he damn near killed you.” You growled. “What hurts?”
“What doesn’t?” He groaned, wiggling his fingers through his racing gloves and sighing with relief. “I need you to unbuckle me, doll.”
“Shouldn’t we wait for the EMT? You might have a spinal injury.” Even through the blood and grimace you could see his eyebrow quirk up. “What? I saw it on Grey's Anatomy.”
“I’m fine. I’ll brace myself, I just need you to hit the release before the fire hits the kid’s NOS bottle.”
“Shit.” You cursed before nodding and reaching up to the buckle where the four points of the harness met. “3, 2, 1.”
The belts fell away and Bucky grunted as his full weight fell onto his already aching arms. Backing up, you reversed your way out the window with Bucky slowly trailing you, his nose wrinkling as he tried to hide the pain he was in.
“Here, lean on me.” You ordered as he struggled to pull himself to his feet. His arm draped over your shoulder and you curled yours around his waist, trying to be tender as you took some of his weight. “Steve!”
Steve sprinted over from where he had been on the phone to 911 and laughed with shock as he found his best friend upright and alive. “You’re a fucking jerk, scaring me like that. Fuck. Let’s get you checked out, EMT’s will be here shortly.”
“Seriously? EMT’s bring cops you punk.” Bucky growled as he punched Steve in the arm before groaning and clutching his stomach. “I can’t get caught again.”
“Don’t worry about that right now.” You said as you reached down and pulled Bucky’s shirt up, gasping at the bruise that painted his stomach a sickly purple shade. “Steve, how soon did you say until they get here?”
Steve’s face paled as he saw the bruise spreading before his eyes, reaching his ribs just as Bucky’s breathing began to change. “Buck? Talk to me pal, take a deep breath.”
“Help! Somebody help!” You screamed to the crowd as Bucky started to collapse in your arms.
Steve caught him before you could drop him and laid him gently on the grass verge beside the street as a woman stepped out from the crowd. “I might be able to help. I’m not a doctor but I did some medic training when I was enlisted.”
Her eyes darted to the dog tags hanging from Bucky’s neck and you tucked them back into his shirt, knowing how precious they were to him. “Sorry, I just didn’t realise he was a vet.”
“He’s not, they were his fathers. Can you help him?” Your hands trembled as you held Bucky’s with one and brushed his messy hair back with the other, careful not to touch the cuts on his face.
“I’ll try.” She sighed before pulling his shirt further up his body, tapping her fingers over the bruising as Bucky drifted in and out of consciousness. “He’s got internal bleeding, best guess is a ruptured spleen, and a collapsed lung.”
Your entire body sobbed with the cry that broke free, the thought of losing him seeming to short circuit your brain as you knelt at his side. “You can’t die, not now, not ever - you hear me. I need you baby. Please, do something.”
“I need a needle or something sterile and hollow to fit between his ribs.” She said as he reached into her handbag and pulled out a bottle of hand sanitiser.
Steve was already racing into the crowd asking for supplies anyone might have and returned quickly with a syringe still in the sterile packaging. “Don’t even ask.”
You knew there were plenty of drugs that circulated the sport and its supporters, the thin grey line between illegal racing soon merging with other illegal activities, so it was no surprise Steve got a needle from one of them. You were just grateful he found one that hadn’t been used.
“Are you sure you know what you are doing?” You asked as she felt between his ribs and smeared hand sanitiser over his skin.
“No, but do you have any other choice?” She said as she held the needle over his chest. “Your boyfriend’s not breathing and I don’t hear any sirens yet.”
“Ok, do it.” You murmured as you held his hand tighter and pressed your lips to his cheek. “I love you.”
A small hiss of air pulled you away from watching Bucky’s light blue lips and you flinched at the sight of the needle stabbed into his chest. You were squeezing his fingers so tight you didn’t feel them twitch and you nearly jumped out of his skin as he gasped a ragged breath in.
“Oh, thank god.” You sagged with relief before hearing the sirens echo along the road. “You’re gonna be alright baby.”
“Told you.” He rasped, his breaths still shaky and shallow. “M fine.”
“Tough bastard.” Steve exhaled, his own sense of relief taking over as he hugged the woman who had saved his best friend's life. “Thank you, anything you need, dinner, movies? I’m there, my shout.”
You rolled your eyes and smiled as Steve somehow managed to snag a date from Bucky’s disaster, he would be proud. “How about we get Bucky to the hospital first? Then you can start planning how many children you’re gonna have.”
You were exhausted but unable to sleep as you waited in the uncomfortable waiting room chairs at the hospital. Steve had tried to get you to rest, rolling up his jumper for you to use as a pillow but it hadn’t worked. Now he sat beside you, mouth hanging open as he snored lightly, the chair next to him filled by the woman who had saved Bucky’s life. Her head had fallen onto Steve’s shoulder and you couldn’t help taking a photo so you could remind him of the day he met his future wife.
Suddenly, the doors to the operating rooms opened and a surgeon came out with a yawn. “Family of Barnes?”
“That's us!” You said as you elbowed Steve and stood up. “Can we see him?”
“Soon, he’s just going to the recovery room now.” The doctor said with a nod. “We had to remove his spleen and part of his liver that was damaged but I should think he will make a full recovery.”
Dawn was just breaking over the city when you were finally allowed in his room, his length leaving his toes hanging from the end of the bed. Cuts and bruises covered his face but he was still as handsome as ever as you took the seat beside him and held his hand.
“You really scared me, Bucky.” You confessed to the quiet room filled only with the beats of his heart on the machine. “You’re not allowed to leave me, ever.”
His fingers twitched in your grasp and the heart monitor jumped as he woke from the sedation, blue eyes unfocused as they looked around the room and landed on you. “Who are you?”
Your throat constricted and fear gripped your chest as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Then a flicker of something else passed behind his eyes you had loved since you first saw them, something…mischievous.
“James Buchanen Barnes, if you are fucking with me right now, I swear to god…”
“C’mere, doll.” His laughter warmed your soul as he pulled your hand closer and kissed your knuckles. “I could never forget you.”
Click here for part four.
#streetracer!bucky#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x poc!reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#street racer au
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the power of love pt. eight | stranger things ; s.harrington
tag list babes || req rules + fandoms/characters || got a req or a ? || masterlist
CHAPTERS ;
one - two - three - four - five - six - seven can all be reached by clicking. stranger things masterlist is here
AUTHORS NOTES;
So this is... Pure fluff. I mean that. Expect even more fluff in future parts, tbh. I truly enjoyed writing this all out and it felt like it was just time for this to happen, honestly. So.. I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I did when it came to me.
Huuuuge thanks and so many fucking hugs and kisses to everyone who puts up with / encourages / reads and sticks around for my bullshit. You guys have no idea how much every single one of you mean to me, babes. Or how much your interactions, whether it be a comment or a reblog or a reblog with tags (your tags guys, ugh I love reading them, they always make me smile), or even a like sometimes manages to make it to me when I need it most and inspires me to keep going. Thank you so so so so so much. I love you guys.
SUMMARY;
-- school dances. two best friends who both want to be more. everybody knows how they feel but the other respective party but maybe... maybe that's all about to change?
PAIRING;
Steve Harrington x Henderson!Fem of non physical descript beyond having necessary female parts, outfits described and personality assigned.
WARNINGS;
mentions of the devils lettuce, uh... kissing. awkward cute Steve. Lotsa fluff.
TAGLIST;
The only people on my taglist for Stranger Things currently are listed below. If you’d like to be and you aren’t, please go add yourself via the link at the very top of the post.
@ALLELITESMUT
@AURUMBELIS
@ARIES-ARCADE
@COLE22ANN
@HCLOANGCLS
@heyaitsklaudia
@hoeshii
@ICEQUEEN1371
@KRYS-ORION
@letsbedragonstogether
@louderfortheback
@MUSICHEALSSCARS
@SCOOBIESSNACKS
@secretsicanthideanymore
@SUITS-AND-SMIRKS
OTHER STUFF;
As previously stated, this is slice of life -mainly fluff / domestic moments and stuff. The Upside down, vecna, deaths and monsters do not exist here. If you're looking for those kinds of things, this is not that. Everyone is of age here, also. And we're saying that the Snow Ball also happens at Hawkins High too, sue me.
You’ve been painting backdrops and decorations for the Snow Ball coming up and you’ve been at it all afternoon. You’re still hanging around when Steve gets out of practice a little after six. But he can’t leave without stopping by the Art classroom to see you because earlier in the day, he got back the results on an exam you spent almost two weeks helping him go over.
You’re the first person he wanted to tell that he aced it.
He’s leaning in the doorway, watching you as you sprawl out on the classroom floor, varying shades of purple, blue and white all over you and the light above your head making the glitter in your hair sparkle in it. You’re laughing. The topic turns to the Snow Ball.
“Are you going? Do you have a date?” Valerie asks the question as you’re preoccupied painting one of the letters on the big banner that’ll go over the gym doors on the night of the dance. You shrug. “Dunno. I mean, nobody’s asked. And like.. I do want to go with someone but.. It’s a long shot.”
“Just say you wanna go with Steve and go, damn. We all know. The entire school thinks you’re dating, you realize that, right?”
You swallow hard, gazing up at Carol, who is the one who said it. “Huh?”
“Yeah. And Steve never actually denies it. Neither do you, come to think of it.” Carol points out with a calm smirk. You can feel your heart racing and your stomach fluttering. You shrug. “He’s probably gonna ask some real pretty girl. Didn’t he go to that movie with Natalie Allen last weekend?” you ask, a brow raised.
“And she was disappointed as hell when he dropped her off at Tina’s. She said he didn’t do a single thing the whole time but talk about you.”
Steve has to duck into the hallway and take several deep breaths. Classic Carol, he thinks to himself, stirring the pot somehow. But somehow, Carol saying all that she’s said isn’t as bad as he worried it would be. Because since the night about two weeks back when Dustin hinted that you might feel something too, he’s just been sitting on what he was told because he was afraid to do or say anything.
But now that it’s out, he thinks to himself, maybe I need to just go for it.
He steps back up to the doorway, staying out of sight as best as he can and just when he does, it's enough time to overhear what Dustin told him almost two weeks ago out of your own mouth.
“Come on. You can’t sit there and tell me you don’t feel something… Right?” Carol is studying you intently as she dips her paintbrush into deep blue paint.
“Okay, alright. I do. I really do. I love him.. I mean I think so…I just..” you’re doing that cute little thing where you fidget because you’re nervous. Picking at your sleeve. “Look at him, okay? He’s him… I’m.. Me…”
“He’s done way worse recently, I’ll have you know. Hello, that whole shit show with Nancy?” Carol insists.
You swallow hard. “Yeah, but I mean.. She’s actually pretty. And she’s not awkward or clumsy. And she’s probably uh.. Ya know.. Got experience… with things. I do not.”
Carol pops a bubble with her gum as she stares at you like you’ve suddenly grown three heads. “I’m not dignifying any of what you just said with an answer because it’s fucking stupid.”
“Agreed.” Valerie adds. And when she catches sight of Steve lingering by the open door, she pulls herself off the floor and holds a hand out to Carol. “C’mon. I wanna do something bad.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“We gotta go down to my locker. It’s hidden in there.” Valerie answers, practically dragging Carol out of the classroom and right past Steve, the two of them so distracted in their little mission that neither of them seem to see Steve standing there, frozen in place and stunned out of his mind right beside the door.
Steve takes a deep breath and drags his hand over his face. He can’t come up with anything to dispute what he’s just heard out of his own mouth and he knows it. And the overwhelming urge to just do something is about to drive him insane, it has been for a while now.
And before you can say anything, Carol and Valerie are gone. Probably to smoke a joint in the bathroom because it wouldn’t be the first time Val’s done it when you’re just hanging out on campus after school is done for the day like this.
You’ve just started to work on covering some snowflakes in glitter when you hear the door to the classroom close quietly.
And then you hear Steve’s throat clear. You sit up and stretch, grinning at him. “Hey! I didn’t think you’d still be here..” you pull yourself off your feet and make your way over, and you’re about to hug him but just like you tend to most of the time, you stop yourself short. And Steve’s staring at you. Intently. Lost in thought. Dazed.
“Steve? Are you okay?” you gaze at him in concern. You remember the exam he had that morning and you sigh. “Didn’t go well, huh?” you hug against him, carefully so you don’t get any wet paint that may be on you on his white shirt. You’re a little surprised when he pulls you against him so that your bodies are flush instead of awkwardly placed and his arms lock around you so tight that your breath catches in your throat for a few seconds.
“No, I passed. A -.” Steve mumbles when his brain finally lets him get words out properly. You throw your arms around his neck and you’re laughing. “I told you you’d pass!” you stick your tongue out at him and you’re so happy, so proud of him it seems, that something in him just snaps.
His hands settle on either side of your face and he pulls your mouth against his, his tongue outlining your lips before his lips latch onto them. You whimper, shivering a little. Melting against him as your fingers tangle in sweaty hair that’s sticking up everywhere on his head. His tongue invades your mouth, running along yours. Massaging. Dominating the kiss. Your brain still hasn’t quite processed what’s happening, but you want it bad enough that you’re very responsive, very vocal, every little whimper and whine and the way your teeth latch onto his bottom lip and bite down gently when you pull away just a little to breathe, mouths still connected by a strand of saliva… It’s even further confirmation that there is something there.
And he can’t just ignore it now.
He’s gotta do something about it.
“S-steve?” you’re still processing what just happened. Dripping and hot all over, squirmy under his intent gaze. He wipes the back of his hand over his mouth and his forehead falls against your own as he attempts to catch his breath completely. “Sorry, I..” he mutters quietly, you shake your head at him, “No,no.. Don’t uh.. Don’t apologize, okay? I liked it.” you admit, going red in the face which makes him chuckle quietly. “Somebody’s blushing right now.”
“Am I?” you breathe out. He nods. “It’s cute.”
“I uh… why, though?” you question, gazing up at him with such a puzzled look on your face that he laughs softly. “Because I like you. A lot.”
“Oh.” you mumble softly. And then, it finally hits you. “Oh.” you mumble again, awe in your voice. “I don’t mean it the way you’re thinking, I… It’s driving me crazy, alright? I like you so much it’s scary.” -and he doesn’t say it, but he’s thinking that this is terrifying and he’s second-guessing his entire decision and questioning whether what he heard was misunderstood, but then you’re melting against him, pulling him down to your level with a hand fisting at sweaty hair as you crash your mouth against his and nip at his bottom lip until the shock wears off on his end and his mouth falls open for you. You sigh against his mouth and admit quietly, “I know what you mean. I’ve wanted to say something I just..” you trail off and he speaks up, his mouth meeting yours again so that the word is swallowed by the kiss, “Couldn’t. Me too.” he takes a very long and shaky breath as he stares at you through heavy lidded brown eyes.
And then Carol and Valerie clear their throats from the doorway. “Finally?”
Steve’s holding out a middle finger to both of them and you’re hiding your heated face in the front of his shirt. He glances down at you. “Do you uh.. Do you wanna get outta here? Y’know,” he nods to the blue and purple and white hues all over your clothes and skin as he chuckles and smirks, “Before that shit dries and ruins your favorite jeans?”
“Yeah.” you manage to answer, but your legs feel like Jello so instead of moving, you stay melted against him and you take a second or two to pull yourself together. When you’ve stood there cuddled against him for what your two friends deem a long enough period of time, they yell in unison, “Oh my god, go! Go make out or something, shit!”
“We’re fiiiine. We’ll totally get these signs and stuff hung up. Yeah.”
You glance from one to the other. “Okay. Alright.”
Steve hasn’t felt this lightweight in a while. Months.
On a whim, he scoops you up and the two of you spill into the hallway, rushing through the double doors at the end and out into the dim light of an early sunset.
You’re sat atop the hood of his BMW and he pushes your legs apart to stand between them. “So uh… you’ll come with me, right? You’re.. We’re..”
You laugh softly. “Depends on what you’re asking.” as you nod your head yes and lean against him, your heart racing and the smile on your face so big that it hurts almost.
“Right, yeah.. The Snow Ball thing.. Will you uh… Go to it with me? As my girlfriend?” he’s fidgeting and you can’t help but laugh because it’s the cutest damn thing you’ve ever seen. Your arms slip around his neck and you smile, nodding and laughing. “I will. As your girlfriend.”
“Do you, uh… Do you wanna come over? We can watch movies or something..”
You nod and smile. “I’d love that.”
#steve harrington#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x fem!reader
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Could you share the issue regarding the inclusivity poll please? The one you said was resolved? Just so it helps other writers. I think it's important to share such information<3 or maybe do some notes us other writers should be aware of?
I didn't vote because I am not a poc but since we're on the topic of reader insert: the one thing I felt a bit uncomfortable with was "your mom's name" when reaper was visiting her mom. I personally don't have an issue imagining myself as an oc persona such as a ripped reaper but my mom is so nice and that part bugged me. For example, I feel like parents' names shouldn't be inserted or mentioned at all. OR give them a random name at the beginning as a starter disclaimer. Just a personal thought. Everything else is very much well thought through. Kudos as always 😉
hello!!
so the issue that was brought up from the poll was solved here, but i have so far not gotten a response for the "not good" answer. i suppose it could have been a misclick or perhaps someone just wanted to see the answers and didn't read the title first, but if there was an issue (or issues) that caused them to genuinely pick that answer, i'd love to be able to fix it!
some general notes when it comes to writing a race-neutral mc:
don't describe showers (or really, certain morning/night routines); it's important because a lot of people don't wash their hair every day. whether it be for preference, for hair type, or for how they wear their hair, it can be alienating to detail every shower as "washing your hair."
this mistake was actually corrected in the tagged post-- but be aware of how some skin scars! it had slipped my mind that not all scarring ends up pinkish-- it'll just be a dimmer version of the person's skin tone.
don't use major descriptors for hair. "billowing in the wind," "[your ponytail] pulled at your scalp," "curling around the face." all of these can be linked to a certain hair type, usually.
when describing skin, use vague terms. for example "the light from the shades dappled across your skin," instead of "the light sheened off your pale skin."
"your cheeks grew pink," "your face went red," can't always be applied to people with darker skin tones. but yk what can? growing physically warm, sweating, getting goosebumps, or feeling rushes of adrenaline! if you're gonna write something fluffy, make sure everyone gets included.
sometimes eyebags aren't easily seen, either. a lack of melanin means the purple under the lids sticks out more, but eyebags are also sometimes visible with creases, puffiness under the eyes, or a slight droop.
don't go into major detail with facial features. when describing reaper's facial scarring, i keep it general and try not to describe how lips look, whether freckles are cut up from the scarring, etc.
also, when i talk about reaper's mask, i don't talk much about her nose. obviously, larger noses might stick out more from the base of the mask, but plenty of people have flattened noses, so that wouldn't really work. instead, i used a general description (not verbatim) "fits perfectly to your nose."
bonnets and durags! people wear them all the time! in the house, out of the house, but for sleeping, too! mention them as an option for your readers to better immerse them.
really try to remember, especially as a white person, that most fanfics (intended or not) use white people as a default. there're probably a lot of people who will enjoy your fic more if they can see themselves in place of the mc. if you don't sit back, reread your chapter and think "yeah, i could picture anyone in this position" (unless the fic is specified to be black!reader x character or something of the variation), you might want to change it up.
thank you for the comment on reaper's moms name! i sort of can't change that much considering how far we are into the series, but I've removed the times where specifically "your mom/mother's name" (or a variation) was mentioned. (let me know if i missed anything).
sorry about dissing your mom, I'm sure she's lovely :) (/gen)
i also partially didn't add any details on reaper's mom's name because i didn't want to allude to any specifics on reaper's background
thank you so much for the support!
as a small disclaimer... i'm really grateful to get this kind of feedback, from my readers of color and not, it's great to hear how I'm doing because i want to make a fun fic for you guys! if the change is something quick and easy (like this and the tagged message), i don't mind it!
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Copycat: Agent Zero —(Marvel Fem!Oc)
A/N: Val has been forced to hear me ramble about this phase cause this is THE turning point of the story, and so it begins! -Danny
Words: 1,974
Phase Four Masterlist
Previous Phase // Next Chapter
Listen to: ‘Black Out Days’ -by Phantogram
i: Yelena Belova
The crowd was talking about things Cat didn't care about.
She dragged her brown gaze with little interest, the drink in her hand had barely been touched, and little droplets were slipping down her fingertips.
A blonde woman walked into the room. For the first time in the evening, Cat's body reacted at the sight.
"Sorry..." a male's voice talked next to her.
Cat went from freaking out to having no coherent thoughts. In front of her was a man with dark hair, black eyes, and a carefully trimmed beard. She moved out of his way, still staring. Cat went to grab her drink but the stranger's eyes found hers and she stopped.
"Hello," he smiled.
"I..." she sat back. "Hi."
"Are you having a pleasant evening?"
"Sure."
The mutant hid her blush by sipping on her drink, when the taste settled on her tongue she grimaced. He glimpsed at her liquor, the ice was gone.
"Not a fan of whisky?"
She looked down at it and placed the glass back on the bar's surface. "I keep hoping my opinion will change..."
"That's a waste of money." His voice was silky, she liked it.
Cat chuckled, she tilted her head and saw the blonde woman getting closer.
"Maybe next time you can buy me a real drink."
The man's brows lifted in surprise. "What about tonight?"
"I have plans, can't get drunk with a stranger," she smiled playfully, "even if I'd like to take them home."
His hand gently landed on hers and she felt a pleasant shiver at the difference in size.
"I'm William," he said, "let's not be strangers next time."
Cat slowly moved away from his hand and put her whisky back on the bar. "Nice to meet you."
She walked away with slow, confident steps. She wasn't a fan of heels, but she'd learned how to walk on them because they could be used as weapons in case of an emergency, or at least that's what Nat had told her. Her dress, a nice shade of dark purple silk, was the only thing she liked about these kinds of parties.
She could still remember the awful sensation her homecoming dress had on her skin, and how Pietro tried to convince her she only needed to get used to it... Cat fixed her posture, the young woman was standing in the corner of the room, and she walked up to her.
"I was wondering when you'd show up," she smiled.
"...sorry, you're mistaking me for someone else," the woman spoke with a thick accent, giving her a confused look.
She'd barely moved a few steps away when Cat spoke up.
"I don't think so, Yelena," she replied in Russian.
The young woman turned but Cat didn't lift her gaze from her nails, though now she was no longer smiling.
"I'm Cat Maxwell," she continued, "we need to talk."
"I'm busy."
"I'll be quick. Just come with me, will you?"
"No," she frowned, "I don't know who you are. Do you think I'm an idiot?"
"I was hoping curiosity would get the best of you," the mutant sighed, "I'm here to talk about Nat."
Yelena didn't move, if anything she got even more nervous. "How do you—?"
"We were friends," Cat walked past her knowing Yelena would follow her, "she trained me."
"Trained you?" Yelena quickly caught up, she was whispering. "You're too young to be an Avenger."
Cat grinned, she wasn't planning on giving much away. "Ya think?"
Yelena examined her looks, squinting a little. "How old are you?"
"How old are you? —You're half my size!"
Cat handed a small piece of paper to a young man and he guided her to where they had her coat. It was a thick, black piece. Yelena helped her put it on after a few seconds of watching her struggle. Cat pulled out a small notebook from an inner pocket.
"Mission accomplished, Lena. Can I call you Lena?"
"No."
Yelena skimmed through the pages, inside there was a list of names: widows that had been sold in the country. Nat had told her about Yelena's mission before the blip, it wasn't hard to guess what she'd been doing all those months.
"How did you get this?" Yelena looked at her intently. "How did you know I would be here?"
"Auctions," Cat made a face, "they attract all kinds of people. Call it a lucky guess?"
Yelena scoffed. "Sure."
"Let's get out of here," she walked towards the entrance, "my feet are killing me..."
It was the blonde's turn to raise her voice.
"I already know she's dead," she declared in her native language.
The mutant stopped in her tracks, she tilted her head a little to the side without really looking at her.
"I'm here to give you something." Cat explained calmly. "Would you like to know how it happened? Her death?"
Yelena's tone was condescending. "Some heroic act, she probably did it to spare someone... she was ridiculous."
Cat's face showed a shadow of a smile, she switched back to English. "Nat was right. We're going to get along."
"I don't want friends," Yelena responded.
"Me neither," she shrugged, walking towards the exit. "You want a free beer or not?"
"I want pizza."
Cat couldn't help but feel like she'd known Yelena her whole life.
The other girl was transparent. If she'd tried to be kind, or keep the conversation going, the mutant would've immediately lifted a wall between them to keep a safe distance. Instead, Copycat decided to annoy her a bit more.
"So?" She ate half of her slice in one bite. "How's your pizza?"
"Fine," Yelena replied without looking at her.
"New York's is far better," Cat replied loyally. "L.A. has something nice going on, but—"
"Are you going to tell me the sob story or are we waiting for God to come down and tell it, huh?"
"Alright. Sorry if I'm taking my time with this... it's hard to talk about it."
Yelena glanced at her. "Were you there when it happened?"
Cat began to tear her napkin into small pieces. "I was in 2012 stealing a tesseract."
The blonde raised a brow. "I thought it was all crazy rumors."
"Isn't it weird how a green guy undid what a purple guy caused?" Cat grabbed her drink and sipped on the straw with absent eyes. "I'm half green myself, but my eyes are purple... makes you wonder..."
Yelena stared at her. "You have red hair and brown eyes. I'm beginning to think you're who started those crazy rumors."
Cat's gaze regained focus. She pushed her food away.
"I've had a tough couple of months. Most of my loved ones died, your sister was one of them—"
"I don't care," Yelena retorted harshly. "I just want to know what happened to her."
Cat narrated the story as best as she could knowing as little as she did. Once she finished she searched through her pockets and showed Yelena the keys to a storage unit.
"Before the mission, my brother asked the team to hand over stuff they'd like to have delivered to friends and family. Nat lived in the compound for five years, but she kept her stuff away. Things she wasn't comfortable leaving there."
"For an American hero, your brother sure is pessimistic, making them write a last will," the young agent pointed out.
"My brother was Sokovian," she replied, "and he was just a guy throughout most of his life... normal. I've been an agent since birth. We're taught to be practical, make sure things stay in order even if the missions don't go as planned."
Yelena grabbed the keys to the storage unit. "Is Barton a hero, or an agent?"
"He was an Avenger."
"So?"
"A hero, obviously," the young woman frowned.
"It was convenient that it was her and not him... nothing to lose..."
"She had everything to lose," Cat remarked. "Nat wanted nothing but to see you again, she talked about you all the time."
"Nat trusted you?"
"With her life."
"But she's dead."
"Look, she's not the only friend I lost. Tony, Vision, Steve, my brother..." her voice broke, she gathered the napkin's pieces and squeezed them into a single ball of paper. "I promised Nat I would give you the keys and I did. You're free to think whatever bullshit you want."
She stood and drew out her wallet. Yelena caught her wrist.
"Now you're honest," she pointed to the seat in front of her. "We haven't ordered dessert, you can't go."
Cat wanted to leave now, but she'd spent months hiding, away from the others...
"She told me about you too," Yelena let go of her hand. "The last time I saw her she said she'd been training a kid that had potential. She said you were cold, but you sound whiny to me."
"When was the last time you spoke to her?"
"Six years ago," Yelena finished her drink in one massive gulp.
"I must've been sixteen," Cat sat back in her seat.
"And you had tougher skin than now, it seems."
The mutant looked out the window, her gaze grew distant. "You probably know she didn't mean that as a compliment. It worried them, having a psychopath in the team."
"Yes, something about a bad childhood— but the women in our field rarely have pleasant lives, right?"
Cat lifted her coke as if making a toast and drank. They were sounding like two people catching up in the middle of a funeral. Under the cynical jokes and careless comments, both women were grieving enormously. Cat had lost most of her caretakers and brother at the same time, her school friends were no longer fitting company...
She could visit Kurt, she could call Happy, she could even have lunch with Harley or Matthew, but none of that felt real. She would drift away from conversations, her mind kept thinking of ways in which she could've stopped each tragedy from happening. She didn't know how to make it stop.
If she could only find a big distraction, maybe her sanity would heal faster. She'd managed to snap out of it after Peter's death, so what was the problem now? The corpses, of course. Not only did she have to hold Pietro and Tony while they died, but she also had to bury them.
"Hey!"
Yelena snapped her fingers in front of her, Cat gave a start.
"What?"
"I asked if Cat Maxwell is your real name."
She raised a brow. "Why wouldn't it be?"
"It sounds fake."
"No, it doesn't."
"It sounds stupid. Did your parents hate you?"
They stared at each other, their expressions scarcely changing.
"Mimi."
"Absolutely not," Yelena made a face.
"Zero?"
The widow snorted. "They pulled you out of the womb so quickly they had no time to give you a real name?"
"Copycat." She said grumpily. "Copy. Cat. Whatever. Names don't hold any meaning when you're referring to me. All my friends call me by a different alias, so go ahead, get creative."
"Do you have a favorite?"
She shrugged. "I really don't care how you decide to call me. It's not like I'll be seeing you often."
Cat had just arrived at her place when her phone started buzzing. At first, she thought it was Kurt calling to ramble about a new revelation he'd gotten during mass that day, but when she picked it up and saw N. Fury on the screen, she almost pierced the screen with her thumb while trying to answer.
"Hello?"
"Agent," the man said. "Are you busy?"
"I'm bored as hell! Tell me you have a mission..."
"I have something for you, but it ain't a mission," he replied. "When can you come?"
"I just came back from L.A. but I'm free tomorrow. What's this about?"
"Stark's will."
Next Chapter—>
Taglist.
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Chapter 10- Number 6 (Color)
Previous Chapter- Number 8 (Creep)
CW: Extreme Gore
Tilda fell to the floor once again, feeling sicker than usual.
“I’m impressed. To deal with a zombie and live… Though I suppose you’re the only one who could have managed that.”
Kase just leaned onto the bar, having a sympathetic expression.
“That… Must have been really difficult. My mother used to tell me these bedtime stories about zombies.”
“You really have to trust everything a spirit says… And I’m sure there are other mysteries we haven’t even discovered yet. This world is huge.”
“It really is.”
“To be honest, I’ve kind of…”
Kase and Roger were both looking at Tilda and she became embarrassed. “N- Nevermind. Let’s continue.”
Tilda just sat there, kneeling on the ground in a puddle of red blood. It was a grotesque sight, though that was to be expected. Tilda just stood there, unsure of what to do next. It was starting to get really difficult to regenerate her flesh, as the mental and physical toll weighed on her. Even still, she bared it and regained her body, with a dose of pain. Her blood was turning a darker shade of red, showing signs of wear and becoming thicker, almost like wet sand.
“I’ve got to stop taking damage…”
She held onto her horns, feeling them and rubbing them up and down. “I can’t lose these… Not yet.”
Tilda got a strange satisfaction from rubbing them. They still felt whole and full of energy, with no sign of cracking. Even so, they could explode at any moment if she became too relaxed.
Leo was sacrificed for these. I always think of him when I touch them. When I see them. They’re so beautiful… But not as beautiful as him.
Her expression was one of unfortunate remembrance, feeling guilty but slightly happy at the same time.
Satan gave me these. He lent me just a small portion of his power to turn me into everything I’ve ever dreamed. I owe so much to him. And now he’s… She closed her eyes, feeling the rough energy around her. “Gone.”
I can’t die. Not yet. I still… I still want to become friends with Dark. I want so badly… To be his friend. She held back her purple tears, trying to keep it all inside.
He hates me so much… I just want to tell him… How much I love him… And how I’m so glad he’s here… How proud of him I am. I can’t die. I won’t. For Dark… Leo… And my old friend.
She sighed and then stood up, wearing a different outfit once again. This time she wore a pretty standard teal bikini, with a towel around her waist. Tilda walked forward, venturing deeper into the enormous boat. But as she walked, the area around her began to change, the wood transforming into pillars of marble. She was transported to an old Grecian city, with blue flags and a white world of ancient power. And in the middle was someone too bright to look at. It was still dark, with the only light being a foreboding spirit with an incredible aura. Tilda quickly felt the hilt of Wriest, a bronze sword with a mordhau stance, the blade so sharp it could cut the very air she breathed. The spirit talked calmly, with no sense of anger or resentment.
“I’m not here to kill you. Relax.”
Tilda had an inquisitive look.
“Then what are you here for?”
The spirit seemed like a young man, on the edge of 18. He had black and green hair, moving in the wind. His eyes were so white they were nearly transparent, and his body truly was transparent. He had to be a ghost, though he wore a colorful outfit. His robe had a rainbow pattern across the bottom, spread out in the night sky.
“My name is of no concern to you. I am Number Seven of the Fifteen Samurai. And while it brings me no joy to tell you this, I must speak the truth. I am not a liar, like most of the people here. My master will kill you. After this point, you will die. You will never reach the Goddess of Treasure.”
Tilda just stared. I mean, he did seem awfully confident. But anyone can be when they have faith in their master.
“And who is your mysterious master?”
Tilda said this with a questioning glare, suspicion entering her psyche.
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
Tilda scoffed. “This is a waste of time.”
“Hold on. You still have a chance to run. This entire scuffle is a waste. Just leave this place. I think you can still manage it.”
“We’re in the middle of the ocean. And even if I get back to land, will you samurai really stop attacking? I’ve already killed several of you. I can’t stop now.”
The boy frowned. “You will die! Your blood is failing you. You can’t face much more. Once your horns are broken, killing you will be as easy as breathing for us.”
One of Tilda’s eyes twitched. “I have so much-” And then for just a moment, it flickered red. “More than you realize.” And just like that, it vanished. “As I just said, I’ve already killed half of your pals. I’m not sure if anything can surprise me anymore. Your legendary master is nothing compared to me.”
Tilda loosened up just a little bit. “I am starting to get a little tired. Why’d it have to be fifteen? It couldn’t be seven? Or ten?” She shook her head. “Get out of my way. The only one I care about is number one and Raiga.”
“Do you truly wish to kill Rust? I mean, she’s just a child. And don’t you feel any grief for killing her father?”
Tilda stood emotionless.
“Or… Did you in some way want this to happen? To battle her like this? Maybe you needed this. I think deep down, you enjoy this bloodlust. You want to kill spirits, don’t you-”
Deep purple energy flickered around Tilda as she blasted forward, striking a sword made only of her thick blood and anger straight through Seven’s soul. Or at least, what would be his soul. He had vanished in a cloud of smoke and the illusion came undone. Tilda looked around at the wooden cage she found herself in. And then she saw it.
A floating, rainbow colored ball of energy. It just floated there, illuminating the ship’s chambers. And then it moved, going down the hall and then turned around the corner. Tilda cautiously followed it, turning the corner to find she wasn’t on the ship anymore. There was a massive library, and dozens of these rainbow colored spheres. It seemed that Seven might fight after all. Tilda couldn’t rely as much on her blood anymore, so she took out Vortex instead. It began to transform, the white cross tearing apart to reveal the much stronger sword underneath. The white armor attached to her shoulders, and wrapped around her metal legs, attaching to her spirit energy. Natsume’s soul was stitched onto Tilda’s, bonding together. But slowly the white and yellow began to change color, being filled with purple energy, slowly entering her like dye.
“T- Tilda… Your anger.. It’s-”
Tilda’s soul was becoming so much more desperate, angry, and fracturected that it was eating at Natsume’s.
“You need to c- calm down. Just a little.”
“Sorry. I can’t.”
A blue helmet formed around her head, as Ai and Natsume’s numbers appeared in her eyes. But then they changed to become one number- zero.
“T- Tilda, it feels so deep… Y- You’re entering me…!”
“P- Please, calm down-”
“Don’t tell me what to do. I want to kill him. I need to make it to Raiga.”
Purple lightning crackled around Tilda as she launched off the ground, screaming across the halls of books and moving past the strange rainbow spheres.
“Where are you, fool?!” Tilda took the yellow and purple sword and lurched it forward, making a giant laser beam crash through the shelves.
“Show yourself!” Tilda could only see Raiga, her brown hair sparkling in the sun.
“I never should have left her. That was a mistake. I have to get to her.” Her smile as bright as the moon. Rogan, proud to see her distant daughter.
“COME OUT YOU COWARD!!” Tilda’s hazy eyes reflected her movements, as she roared across the ground. And then he appeared.
“I am many things, but I am not a coward!”
Tilda smiled her murderous smile as she looked at him. “There you are.”
Tilda launched like a cannon into Seven’s shabby looking sword, and in a second he could tell how outmatched he was. Even in the ninja’s drunken state, she was a hundred thousands times stronger than him.
“I- I really don’t want to fight!”
“JUST TAKE ME TO YOUR DAMN MASTER!! I JUST WANT TO KILL!!” And then as Tilda kept swinging, she began to calm down a little bit.
“I just… I just need to get through you people… This is such a waste of time… I… I’m so broken… All for her… Don’t you see? I don’t care about you! I don’t care about any of you!”
It was all she could see. “God… Can’t you feel her? Smell her? I already have someone I love… But… She is…”
It was all she could think about. “Have you seen her?”
“R- Raiga? We talked for a moment.”
“How… How can you stand it? I need to…” Tilda struck forward, thinking of her body. Seven screamed, his hand being sliced onto the ground.
“I’ve got to fix this! I need it more than anything else!” Tilda struck even harder, thinking of her mother’s voice. Seven couldn’t block the blow, the blast destroying his sword and slashing his arms.
“I’ve got to save her… I NEED TO!! RAIGA!!!” Tilda was consumed by her energy, a purple aura growing so fierce it was equivalent to a volcanic eruption. Seven could see the outline of both Natusme and Ai on top of Tilda, though they looked more like demonic ghouls to her. And the only thing Tilda could see was Raiga, covered in dark energy. Being eaten up by Rust and the rest of them.
“I KNOW I DESERVE THIS… BUT PLEASE… LEAVE HER OUT OF IT!! DON’T MAKE ME KILL HER!! GODDAMNIT!!” Tilda’s eyes were like bombs, with her tears the fuse. Her sword completely erased Seven in a nuclear blast strong enough to tear his illusion apart from the inside. His soul was erased by a thousand knives splitting into it, carving his body into ash in moments. Tilda felt all the weight at once, and her rage had vanished. Her sword vanished as well, it turning into blood and then back into her. She rolled onto the ground, her mind reeling from the hatred in her blood.
Tilda stood up, the ship back to normal. But the floating bubbles were still there. She looked at one, as it turned another corner, continuing to head somewhere else.
It wasn’t him… Then… Tilda followed it, walking forward slowly. Down the hall, along a large corridor, the ball just kept moving forward.
“Girl, this is a trap.”
Tilda stopped. The same voice she heard earlier was speaking to her again.
Wait, maybe it’s not the same.
“You are walking towards your death. A monster awaits. You still haven’t awakened yet. You need more time.”
Awakened?
“Wake up girl.”
“I’m not a girl! And what are you talking about?!”
“You still haven’t experienced it.”
What irritated Tilda the most was how she was talking as if she was older than Tilda, and yet she sounded younger than her. But…
Oh my god. She is older than me.
It was so rich. Like wine. Almost like…
“Who are you?!”
…
No answer. Tilda looked straight out. The ball continued to taunt Tilda.
Even if it is a trap. I need to move forward. I need to know Number Six.
Tilda ran forward, past the sphere and into a much larger room. But the sphere still moved forward, out another door, onto the deck of the ship. It was the front, and there she stood. A woman, surrounded by hundreds of the same rainbow spheres.
“Hello. You must be the person I’ve heard so much about.” Tilda quickly got out her sword, feeling such an intense presence it rang all her bells.
“You’re his master, aren’t you?”
Number Six stood up straight. It was a miracle the sun wasn’t out, as it would have made her outfit blinding. Thousands of jewels lined her outfit, all of them in different colors. Sapphire, jade, amber, pearl. They were all there, making her glitter in the moonlight. Her sword was massive, with the same bright colors across it. She had a tye-dye headband, matching to her exceptionally colorful appearance. Her hair was tied in a swirl on top of her head, almost looking like ice-cream. She was smoking a cigarette, though she then put it out and stared at Tilda, her rainbow eyes burning.
“I am Number Six of the Samurai. My name is Argyb. My element is color.”
Tilda felt the undeniable urge to laugh. To make fun of her. There’s nothing that color really does. It’s not a weapon. In other words, she had nothing. The supposed “master” of number seven is nothing but a farce. So she wanted to laugh. But she couldn’t. The last time she did, she faced a monster.
Glue… So she stood her ground.
“Eh? What’s wrong? You aren’t going to laugh?” Tilda simply gripped her sword, though her hands were shaking.
“Want to see something cool?” Argyb raised her hand in the air and snapped her fingers. Tilda flinched, fully expecting some kind of powerful attack. Instead, the sky started to rain, with lightning and thunder booming overhead.
“Pretty cool, right?”
And then Argyb smiled, her fanged teeth on display. Something about the sight triggered a distant anger in Tilda, and she rushed forward with all her might, her shakiness gone.
“I’ll rip you in two just like I ripped apart your little rat!!”
“W- What?”
“LET’S DO THIS, COLOR REAPER!!”
R- Reaper? I kind of like that…
Argyb got out two short swords, and began to fight Tilda. “You know, I had a plan. It was going to be awesome. You’re kind of ruining things now.”
“I will not be fooled again!” Argyb couldn’t help feeling that Tilda was very cute, but she had a job to do. Her sword brushed against Tilda’s, and they dashed around the wooden floors, narrowly avoiding the bubbles of color that floated around them. It was like an intense dance, with Tilda definitely setting the pace. Even though she was deathly afraid, she continued to slam her bloody sword into the samurai.
Maybe… If I’m fast enough… I can beat her…
Argyb slowly blocked her attacks, being thrown off guard. This is her?
Tilda didn’t seem to match the description Argyb had heard of her. She was so uncomfortable. She looked like she had seen the end of the universe, her red hair was dark, nowhere near as bright as it was before. Her eyes were shaky, with no purpose, only filled with burning emotion that didn’t have a place to go. Tilda contacted Argyb’s swords in quick succession, striking forward once and then again, then jumping and hitting them a third time, only to sweep Argyb’s legs and then wielded a sword Argyb hadn’t seen before, as she began to fall.
What is that?!
It was like a sword made of tar, with dark red blood mixed together like a… “My Smoothie of feelings will erase you!!”
“God, you’re really fucked up, aren’t you?”
Tilda stopped for a second, and Argyb softly fell onto the floor, pausing for a moment. “I’m not… Fucked up.”
Tilda said this as her hair grew longer, it’s dark red energy lifting off of her. Her purple eyes continued to be hazy, as her flesh moved just a tiny bit. She looked at the strange sword she was holding.
“I keep making new swords by accident… They're so useless… I used to only get a new one when something amazing or life-changing happened to me… Now look at it.”
“Doesn’t that just mean something amazing happens every day?”
“No… I keep changing… Over and over again. My heart is beating faster and faster… It keeps coming back. And I’m so afraid that one day it’ll stop for good.”
Tilda’s hair fell over her face as she slouched over, still holding her sword so tightly.
“I can still feel it… See it… The fear of what I’ve done… And what I have to do. I don’t know when the straw will break, but it will.”
And then Argyb saw it too. “I see it… Oh god…”
Her eyes began to widen as she looked at it. The large purple fox that had its body all over Tilda. Its eyes were the same as hers, but so much brighter and more focused. It clearly represented what Tilda is when she’s at her best, but that wasn’t the scary part. There was an even bigger outline, a phantom of what it could become. What it will become.
“So this is what she meant… A power to rival… Anyone…”
“Do you understand now? Why I have to kill you? Why I have to continue as fast as I can? I need to get to Raiga before It happens.”
And then something whispered in Tilda’s ear. It was the voice from before, but now speaking to her directly, as if she was right behind her. Tilda shuddered as she heard its age, a rich straight line that had been ravaged long, long ago.
“And when it happens, I’ll be with you. Then… We’ll be one.”
And then she relaxed, her eyes slowly returning to normal.
“I’m so burned out I’m hearing things. The classic voices in my head… I guess that’s where I’m at right now. Hahaha…”
And slowly, the tar and blood on Smoothie began to fall to the ground, causing Argyb to be even more horrified. It revealed an extremely sharp sword with multiple points on it, looking almost like a diamond or star, though it was on fire, burning with bursting flames.
“Yeah… This is my clock… And the countdown starts now.”
And now Tilda’s purple irises were on fire, flickering and smoldering with heat. “Let’s do this, Argyb. Kill me… If you can. I would be… Grateful.”
Argyb got up, and put her two small swords together to make one large one. She was sweating, though it was hard to tell with the rain pouring down. Her rainbow colored eyes flickered in the dark, as she smiled.
“You could probably kill me without breaking a sweat if you tried hard enough. But still… Even if you break, and become what you fear… You still won’t have enough to beat me.”
“Then do it! Push me beyond… Destroy me before it’s too late.”
Argyb focused harder, her eyes looking at Tilda with scorn.
So much guilt… She’s swimming in it. Honestly, I’m not sure what she means. I don’t even know what her goal is. Does she want to die? Or is it something else? “Do you enjoy killing, Tilda?”
Tilda grimaced and put her sword on her shoulder. “Yes. Why do people keep asking me that question?”
“Because you’re a confusing person. You say you like killing, but you also feel so much guilt. So shouldn’t you hate-”
“It’s actually pretty simple. I love killing. I hate death. I love living. I hate evil. When I kill spirits, a hole opens up in my heart. And when I kill a friend, it consumes it. The more I fight the people I love, the more it twists my enjoyment of killing. But I love to fight. So it twists and twists, until it becomes a tight rope around my neck. And it continues to get stronger and stronger, tighter and tighter, until my neck explodes, and I become someone else. Eventually, Zabbaninja will be destroyed. And only Tilda will remain.”
“But still… You killed Rust’s father. She has a right to fight you.”
Tilda’s eyes cracked. Like glass, a large, veiny thick stroked purple line was carved into them. And she smiled, her fangs glowing in the dark.
“Funny.”
“I mean, I’m so confused! Do you want to die or not?”
“I already told you fools! If you want me to die, do it yourself! I shouldn’t have to kill myself for me to die! It should be easy if you’re as strong as you guys think you are! If Rust truly wants her revenge, then why am I still standing?! Come on, Color Guard, face me for real! I want to kill… But I don’t want to end lives… I want to live… I want to feel…”
Argyb twitched a little when Tilda said that.
“Oh? What’s the matter? Do you not feel?”
Argyb stood up, her eyes dark and commanding. It seemed she finally did want to fight.
“Look harder.”
She pointed to Tilda, her finger dripping with rain. “I was once just like you. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but it’s true.”
It was like a veil was lifted, as Argyb began to walk around Tilda.
“I was gifted the power of unlimited strength. Every opponent I’ve ever faced fell before me. I brought them all to my knees. The power of color is above all. Above all things. The whole multiverse! It’s everywhere you look, what you breathe! You cannot exist without it! You see, in your position, a blind man would have a better chance of beating me.”
Tilda began to walk around Argyb at the same pace, them facing each other in a mental stare.
“I was invincible. I had no weaknesses. But still… I continued to run into problems. I began to feel, just like you. I ran into the same cycle of suffering you’re in right now. That feeling that makes you want to tear yourself apart. And for what? A couple of dead bodies?!”
Argyb seemed genuinely angry as she said that.
“It was stupid. But still I silently bore it, as it burned my body from the inside. I had everything I ever wanted, but my mind was crushing me. My weak, feeble mind. But then I met someone. Someone that helped me.”
Something about Argyb seemed familiar. Something about the way she talked, and the way she thought. “Shingle-san taught me the truth. He’s the one person I couldn’t kill. You see, he knew how to deal with your problem. And now I know how to deal with your problem. The answer is obvious.” Argyb’s eyes flickered like diamonds. “Delete your empathy and sympathy!!” Argyb expected a reaction from Tilda, but there was none. She put her finger to her head and poked it, as if giving a lecture.
“These things are useless. A futile attempt at feeling ‘human.’ We don’t need it. Sympathy is useless. Empathy is useless. They are tools that you should abandon. Guilt is a useless emotion. Don’t be stupid Tilda.” As Argyb talked, Tilda could see the person she was emulating. His orange skin burning as he spoke, his soulless eyes breathing more than his heart. “Cast them aside!” She spoke the same words he did, and Tilda could hear them both together, speaking on top of each other.
“Leave your useless feelings behind! Don’t feel bad for the idiots you kill! I’m trying to help you!” Argyb’s eyes continued to twist into a spiral, with orange light glowing like a jack-o-lantern. “Why should you waste your energy on them?! Why should you even think about them? They don’t think about you! No one likes you in this world! Hatred is the only consistent emotion in this world!”
Matter-Head’s golden rage glowed on as Argyb screamed, his world echoing out into Tilda, the godly power of paranoia raging into his mind. The God of all Gods shouted loudly, his visage covering the girl that tried to be like him. “They all hate you! They all loathe you! Don’t try to deny it! They all want you to fail! They don’t want you to succeed. To achieve happiness. They pat your back with one hand while they hold a knife with the other. Deceitful smiles have become the norm.”
His teeth were sharp and jagged, with a terrible grimace on his face. His orange eyes were indistinguishable from sewage, merging with the worst of the world. “Truth doesn’t exist in this world. Give it up. Give it all up. Everyone wants you to die. No one loves you. If you win they’ll tell you to lose. If you lose they want you to win. DEATH… YOU’RE LETTING SOMETHING AS STUPID AS DEATH STOP YOU?! YOU CAN DO MORE. MUCH MORE.”
The bloody words. That’s what people called it when he ever gave a speech. His words bled into your mind, as you could feel it all. The burning, desecrating loneliness that hurts more than any other thing in the world. “NO ONE LIKES YOU. ‘LIKE’ DOES NOT EXIST. ONCE YOU REALIZE THAT, THE WHOLE WORLD BECAME MINE.”
“Once you realized that everyone hates you, you decided you would always hate them. And even if someone likes you, you assume they don’t. So they resent you, and you resent them. That creates distrust. And when you don’t trust someone, there is one absolute way to shut them up.”
“MURDER.”
“It’s impossible to feel pity.”
“Why haven’t you done it Tilda? I’m sure with all your power you have more than one way to do it. Why do you still keep your empathy and sympathy? Why do you keep your guilt?”
Tilda slowly smiled. “Because I don’t want to be like him. Haha, the real question is, why on earth would you follow in his footsteps? Are you crazy?”
Argyb frowned. It was one so terrible and rude, it was like Tilda was staring at an oni, death in her maiden eyes. “I’ll see if you can keep smiling when you face the epicenter of the universe.”
Tilda thought about that for a second. She could see Argyb with the world in her hands, and the universe behind her. The stars and galaxies glowing in the endless expanse. And then it was all destroyed. A wall of pure, orange energy greater than anything Argyb could create. Color was nothing compared to Matter. His orange arms came around her and squeezed her to her death, crashing into her soul and consuming the earth.
“My god…” Tilda put a hand to her mouth. “You’re already dead.”
Argyb could see him. He was so strong, so wonderful, and so stoic. He had everything a man needed. For years she wanted to be just like him. To have his same attitude, his same smile, and his same tenacity. He could stop anything. Nothing could break him, and he will never, ever die or give up. No matter how many people near him die, he’ll always be on top. He was the one true god. He is the alpha-omega, beginning and the end. If Argyb could be even a fraction as amazing as him, she would have nothing to fear. Unfortunately, she didn’t know the truth. Shingle didn’t destroy his empathy or sympathy. His smile… is only a fabrication. That black-hearted strength is his burning loneliness.
In the end, me and him are actually pretty similar. I guess I owe him an apology. Let’s see who comes out on top, pal.
Argyb breathed. One breath was all it took. One of the rainbow bubbles around the two spirits flashed, making a diamond of energy. It was like it turned into a star for a second, lighting up the galaxy around Argyb, her expression one of focus and power. Her eyes, her body, even her skin was bursting with color, traveling across her soul as if it was about to explode and spread it everywhere. Then another bubble flashed just like the other one, making a thunderous sound as the ones around it began to do the same.
One by one, the hundreds of bubbles flashed brightly, dozens of diamonds forming around Tilda, making a kaleidoscope of energy. It was like a thousand eyes opened all at once, one after another waking up from their eternal slumber. They thrashed and screamed open, their egg cracking suddenly and sharply, as their yolk began to fly out of their shell. The monstrosity screamed, as hundreds of life forms breathed in the new air all at once, surrounding and covering the ship, slamming into a vortex.
A vortex of color. Blues, reds, yellows, and oranges. Magenta, pink, velvet, and white. Black and green, indigo and lime. Vermillion, lavender, cauliflower. The raging power of the sun. The blinding light of the sky. The cool blanket of autumn leaves. The crossing of the waves, the shifting of the stars, the emptiness of the throat, and the beating of the heart. An endless barrage of colors, an eternal collage of power bleeding out. It just kept bleeding and bleeding, the monstrosity waking up and taking everything in its massive size.
It was impossible to see Argyb anymore, as she was buried in the colors, more and more being pumped into the atmosphere. More importantly, Tilda couldn’t see. It wasn’t that she couldn’t see the colors, it was that there was too much of it. She tried desperately to close her eyes, but it was too late. Trillions of colors entered her retinas, flooding into her so hard she couldn’t close them. Even if she could, light would still seep through her eyelids as the colors continued to pump into her light.
She felt them swirling all around her, like wind on her body. The rainbow flashed through her eyes as she stood up and attempted to get herself back in gear. It was hard to think, to even breathe in the suffocating colors. She couldn’t feel. It was becoming harder and harder to do anything. She couldn’t see the rain pouring on her, the woman she was supposed to fight, which may or may not even still be in the area, and slowly she lost sense of herself. The being named Tilda was beginning to lose her senses. Surprisingly, with all this color, she couldn’t see anything. Was she still holding her sword? Was she still breathing? What about her body? What did it even look like right now? What can she hear? What does she look like? What’s on her body? What about her blood? Is she still alive? Is she still alive? Is she still alive? Is she still alive? Is she still alive?
Am I still alive?
The first thing she felt was strain. A large amount of strain on her eyes. Of course. She could barely, just barely make out that she was crying. That deep, guttural sadness, and the burning, tingling feeling of tears falling out of your precious eyes.
I’m alive.
Then she remembered. I- I’m thinking. I’m still thinking. Focus on other things. A- Am I still standing?
She tried moving her metal legs. N- Not a good idea.
Her hands instead. T- They might still be bloody. What’s something I can truly feel?!
Her breathing? No. Even if she could, all she could feel was nothing. She probably wasn’t breathing. Her soul can still function without it.
What about her hearing? It all sounded like a constant, non-stop clatter, shredding her eardrums. It was like they were popping on repeat, never ceasing.
What about pain? She tried to bite through her lip, but she couldn’t feel it. Her body was made of blood.
She can move, can’t she? Even that was not guaranteed. Her eyes were still being filled, but now it had already become normal to her. They were burning so much. Even if she removed them, at this point, she didn’t know how much it would help.
Eigangrau, how I deeply miss you. I took you for granted. She smiled, laughing at the dark irony. For only a second, she could feel it, but it went away just as quickly.
I… I need to… I am still alive. I have to be. So why can’t I… She continued to cry, both from the stinging sensation from her eyes and her soul. DAMNIT!!
Tilda reached for her anger and slammed her hand onto the ground. She could feel it. Her clenched fist, holding her anger so tightly. She couldn’t let go. But she also couldn’t open her fist. She could feel something else there.
“I’ll give you a hand. I can’t have you dying just yet.”
Tilda could feel someone holding her fist, softly and gently, but with enough force to truly be there. She was really there. And she could hear her too. The first thing she heard that wasn’t a painful noise. A powerful, strong voice that had seen ages. Someone just like her. She had to respond.
“W- Who are you?! I can’t see you!”
She’s right there. If only she could see…
“Look at that! You’re talking again.”
She just had to look harder. Through the color… All the color…
“I’m just someone that has gone through what you have. I can’t guarantee it will get better… But you don’t have to be afraid. It will come naturally.”
And then the voice changed. Their true colors were revealed. She couldn’t see them, but by god, Tilda could feel them.
“You’ll get what you want. You’ll never get what you need, but trust me, you’ll get what you want. Anything. That’s your price for living the life you’ve lived. You live in a brutal multiverse, which I’m sure you’re already well aware of.”
There was a smoldering, chaotic heat burning Tilda’s hand. It was dripping with malice and ferocity, its drool leaking onto Tilda. An endless web of energy, lines burning on top of each other. Going on and on, forever in a realm untouched by her.
“So stop worrying about it! Get what you want! Leave it all behind! Eventually you’ll be forced to. Stop fighting it! Let it go girl! Let it all go! Are you really going to stay this way forever?!”
Tilda began to breathe harder, her chest rising and falling extremely fast. Her eyes continued to burn, as she felt undeniable fear from this person.
“I can help you!”
The person seemed disgruntled and then spoke again. “N- Not like him! I can really help you! I’ll lend you everything! Just accept yourself! Accept yourself for what you are! Why are you so scared?! You have the power! The power to go further!”
It wasn’t like him. It wasn’t orange. It was a scarred, scorned red.
“Don’t be afraid! Do not be afraid! Just trust me! You’ll be stronger!”
The noise around Tilda began to dissipate, and she could understand it was only rain. She was on the ground, her legs stretched out, with her fist by her side.
“Skip the preamble! Join me, so you can get your new journey started! You are where my journey ends. But yours goes on for much farther! Do it Tilda!”
Her eyes were burning so much, just like her body.
“Wake up!!” She looked like a demon. A real one. The one above all.
“B- Baphomet…”
Tilda moved her hand away from her. She backed up slowly, crawling away from the burning heat. Tilda couldn’t see its expression.
“S- Sorry. I came too soon. I’m just so impatient. It’s been so long I-”
“G- Get away! Get away from me!”
Tilda truly had fear in her tearful eyes. There was a true monster in front of her. He offered gifts of untold beauty and power, and the cost was unfathomable.
Don’t accept. Every nerve in her body told her the same thing. “P- Please! Leave!”
Slowly, the smoldering red began to disappear.
“It’s alright. Use everything you have left. Everything.”
“G- Go!”
All the red vanished, or at least all the red she felt. Feeling… As Tilda began to calm down, she realized she was feeling everything. She could hear the rain, feel it, and touch it. Slowly she listened to the anger in her heart, and began to move once again. “Alright.”
Tilda moved her hand across her body, reaching up to her face. Yeah. That was her face. She stuck a finger in her mouth to make sure, and then got ready. She had actually plucked out her eyes a couple times before, mainly to get new ones. It would be easy.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Tilda tried to tell where Argyb was. From her voice, it sounded like she was in front of her, though Tilda wasn’t really sure. There were plenty of people who could see without their eyes, some doing it on purpose to enhance their fighting abilities. Dark wore a blindfold all the time, just one of the many meanings behind his self-given name. He feels the energy around him, with help from his Eternity Tower.
Tilda, on the other hand, had never done anything like it before. Feeling someone’s energy is easy. Especially if it’s really big. Someone like Matter-Head can be spotted from miles away even when you’re sleeping. But not only was Argyb’s self-energy not that strong, but the color all around Tilda was messing her radar up completely. And as for hearing, she just wasn't strong enough to do so.
“Even if you removed your eyes, you still would see my colors. As I said before, a blind man would be able to stop me, but you’ve already seen it. It’s too late. You can try to remove your knowledge of light and color, but it wouldn’t fix anything. There are no solutions to this problem. But go ahead. Try to stop it.”
Tilda could tell that Argyb was smiling though.
“My colors have already infiltrated your soul.”
And then Tilda smiled as well. That’s better.
She already figured that it was something like that. And then she saw something. Even through all the colors, she saw something. It was a white as snow energy, moving forward in a straight line. It vanished as quickly as it appeared, but it gave Tilda an idea.
White… “Hey, what’s it called?”
“What’s what?”
“You know, the name. Of that move you did.”
Argyb sounded confused. “Name?”
“Come on, everyone names their special moves. That’s half the reason we do them.”
“I- I’ve never thought of a name.”
Tilda rushed forward, heading towards the general area of where she thought she heard Argyb’s voice.
“H- Hey!’
I’ve never done it this much before, but oh well. “This is gonna hurt like hell!!”
Tilda threw out dozens of hands from her body, skeletons spreading forward in a wave. As they were thrown they began to form flesh around the skeletons, turning into real hands. It put tremendous strain on her body, but she felt the one that hit something. Tilda walked through knives to reform with the hand, and then it turned into swords. The pain was so unbearable, but she moved her whole bloody body forward, pushing her skeleton into her wrist, crashing into each other violently.
It wasn’t a pretty sight, flesh pushing beyond itself, pleating as if they were two trains derailing into each other. Tilda almost never messed up merging her blood. But with all the other hands around, and the necessity to feel everything, she had no choice but to feel so much pain as to lose consciousness. Her pupils disappeared in her bloody state, but still she moved forward. Her boney foot dragged in the ground, splinters stabbing through her flesh as she raked it forward. She moved her arm however, and pushed it forward, cocking it like a gun and launching her metaphorical bullet. Her fist launched so fast Argyb couldn’t block it.
A rain of flesh, blood, and most importantly, bone, met with Argyb’s face, shredding it with broken shrapnel. Tilda purposefully cracked her fist beforehand, so it would break on impact, and pushed her hand into Argyb. Bone was lodged into Argyb’s flesh, some even reaching beyond and into her skull. Tilda bore down, breaking her own teeth as she bit harder than ever before, and then proceeded to detach her knuckles from her hand and shoot them like bullets into Argyb’s head, pushing beyond her unprotected skull and into her brain.
Tilda took her other hand and landed an underhand attack on Argyb’s chin, and then pushed it through upwards, slicing apart more and more of her flesh. Like a spatula spreading apart dough, slices of flesh fell off of Argyb, and Tilda stepped forward once again. Argyb stepped back only a little bit, trying to regain any sense of self, but unable to as the process of switching from her brain to her soul took time. A very short amount of time, but just enough for Tilda to send another broken fist into her.
Tilda had jumped a tiny amount, making sure to completely shatter Argyb’s skull and desecrate her brain. Tilda’s expression was horrible, as she was practically a zombie, moving forward with only soul alone. This had never been attempted by any spirit before, but if someone could do it, it had to be Tilda.
“AUGHHH!!” It hurt so much. It was like forcing yourself to actively annihilate your body, which of course was what she was doing. But it hurt more for Argyb, who had never been hit in the skull directly like this before. Tilda’s fistful of steel launched into it, pushing past it and landing a direct explosion on her brain. This would give an even bigger moment of time where Argyb would be exposed.
Like it or not, the soul needs to recreate the sensation of a brain, the sensation of sentient thought. Without it you don’t have a body. And in that moment of time where everything realigns, you can’t do anything. Tilda’s broken fist pushed through the brain, moving half of it out of alignment, and then her fist exploded again, spreading the pieces everywhere.
Blood and matter were expelled all across the ship, though it all appeared as different colors to Tilda. This grisly scene was just a splash of rainbow to her, like a paint store being blown up. Realistically, she had no idea whether she really succeeded or not. She didn’t really know anything. She was taking the ultimate shot in the dark, destroying her body just for a chance at victory.
I still have more… Tilda felt that pain. Blood surrounded her wrists, creating spirals of flesh. White rope began to form new hands, sending more fire into Tilda’s explosive soul.
I’ve reformed my hand's thousands of times over my life. It’s the only thing I can do while sleeping. In other words, they are my ultimate weapon. It’s why… Her soul was sparking, turning her pain and all of her thoughts into pure energy, with only one goal in mind- DESTROY ARGYB.
Now Tilda’s own star was on display, burning and breathing all across the ground. Tilda leaned back and then threw one of her hands into Argyb’s torso, slugging across it and ripping it apart just like her skull, the bones shattering like glass once again, shrapnel bullets lining up in her body. It’s why even without seeing them, I know when they are and aren’t there.
Then Tilda sent her other fist into Argyb, striking from the side once again, creating a curve of darkness and causing more green blood to slide across her broken vision. It’s why this pain is nothing to me. It’s why I can keep going.
“You don’t like it, do you? This pain.”
White roots grew from her wrist once again, growing a brand new hand, with blood splattering around it. She slammed into Argyb again, spreading more flesh across the ground. With her other arm she created another hand, and broke it once again, striking as if she was hitting through wooden planks.
“It’s unfamiliar to you, isn’t it? Wouldn’t you love to feel it all the time? It’s easy to do this. Yes, it hurts, but whatever. That doesn’t really matter.”
She formed her hands again, and struck again, growing in pace. Her soul was literally on fire now, creating a bonfire in Tilda’s body, as it shone like a diamond in the dark.
“We both have souls. You’re a god. And I’m not far from you. Something as simple as pain doesn’t matter anymore. No. Do you think something as simple as pain is the reason why I can’t walk anymore?”
Once again she struck, digging through all the cells that made up Argyb’s body.
“DON’T-” Again, stretching the flesh and causing it to bubble outwards like boils.
“BE-” Again, causing organs to fly in the air like birds.
“STUPID!!” Ribs came bursting out of the flesh, being spread like knives across the ground and catching flame as they flew. Gore erupted out of Argyb like a shaken bottle of soda, as Tilda could feel the blood splashing onto her. It was a new experience for her, feeling every little detail in her killing. The brain matter that leaked on her wrists, the large intestine that hit her stomach, and the rib that stabbed her cheek. But all she could see was color. It was a fulmination of color, lighting up and spiraling out of control. The more Tilda struck, the more color that was expunged. It was somehow even brighter than before. But still there was something she could see. Something brighter than everything else.
“N- NO!” Argyb could speak, but moving would be something else entirely. “D- DON’T DO IT! I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY!! Y- You don’t want to kill me right?! You said so! Y- You don’t like death!!”
And then Tilda smiled. Her eyes were perfect circles, looking just like her burning soul. She leaned back and then proceeded to slam her broken fists into Argyb’s soul. One after the other, just like before, but now striking the glass-like object in the middle of Argyb’s falling apart body. Tilda struck faster and faster, hitting harder and harder. She screamed as she did so, feeling a rush of adrenaline she had never quite felt before.
“TAKE IT ARGYB!! TAKE IT ALL!! THIS IS EVERYTHING I HAVE…” The more she hit the more color was created. Pockets of light kept appearing, getting more and more unusual as she felt the flames burning inside her. The hits kept coming, more and more as she launched them into the soul. They were getting so fast now it was as if Tilda had become a machine.
“PLUS A LITTLE BIT MORE!!” Dopamine raged through her mind as she felt more alive than ever before. It was like her veins had turned into her very soul, and she could feel everything. Her fucked up vision just helped her in this regard, turning everything into a show of magic and power.
“YOU REALLY THOUGHT YOU COULD KILL ME?! ME?! YOU’RE JUST LIKE EVERYONE ELSE!! YOU REALLY THOUGHT MATTER-HEAD WOULD LIKE YOU? ARE YOU INSANE? DON’T YOU REALIZE THAT YOU APPLY TO HIS BACKWARD LOGIC?”
Argyb’s soul was beginning to crack as energy crashed out of Tilda, causing more and more fists of fury to land into it. She was striking so fast they became cannons of wind and energy, blood shooting out of them like fireworks, a thousand raging rivers chipping away at the rock in the cavern. Argyb’s blood kept changing color, from red to orange to green to yellow.
“IF HE HATES EVERYONE THEN HE HATES YOU TOO!! IF HE HAS NO SYMPATHY THEN HE DOESN’T LIKE YOU! HE THINKS OF YOU THE SAME WAY HE THINKS OF EVERYONE ELSE!!” Lightning strikes sounded off as Tilda hit Argyb’s soul, causing more and more color to come pouring out of it, bursting and bounding as waves of light. The hits increased even more, turning to thousands of strikes every second, as Tilda’s fists became golden beams of energy beating the drum of power more and more.
“HE HATES YOU!! DON’T YOU GET IT?! THERE IS NO ONE HE WON’T KILL!! THERE IS NO LINE HE WON’T CROSS! IF YOU REALLY TRY TO GET CLOSER TO HIM, HE’LL KILL YOU TOO!!!”
“No, you’re lying!”
“YOU IDIOT!!” Argyb’s soul cracked completely, and began to fall apart as Tilda let out one final barrage, ten thousand trillion strikes sounded off all at once as she eliminated everything from Argyb’s essence, a full rainbow covering every color on the entire spectrum of light appearing as it all fell apart.
“THIS IS MY FINAL MESSAGE, FROM ME TO YOU!! CRITICAL ART- ULTIMATE IGNITION- BLAZING SEPPUKU!!! DIE YOU SON OF A BITCH!! YOU’RE GOING TO THE WORLD UNDER THIS ONE!!!!”
Tilda let loose one final blow, completely crashing through Argyb’s soul and creating a cannon of light and color so bright it completely blinded Tilda, erasing her retinas and slashing through her eyes, a sight so beautiful it sent energy crashing through them and blowing her to the ground. A nuclear explosion of light formed on the boat, launching across the ocean and into the atmosphere, creating an aurora borealis so powerful it changed the very night sky, erupting across the Earth and into outer space, reaching the endless amount of stars floating overhead, and causing them all to explode.
Or at least, that’s what it looked like to Tilda, as her body ultimately combusted, sending even more color around her. It all ended in a single flash of light, as Tilda could see the color of the air for the very first time, and could see it in all its glory. Blood poured out of her eye-sockets, and her horns finally broke.
Characters-
Argyb- The Goddess of Color. Number 6 of the Samurai. Someone who deeply respects Matter-Head. After feeling upset due to her power annihilating any opponent she faced, she began to feel extreme guilt. Following Matter-Head's ideology, she deleted her sympathy and empathy, and now lives a fulfilled life. She hoped Tilda could be the same. Unfortunately, she does not know that even Matter-Head has feelings. Element- Color.
Seven- A ghost and a spirit. Number 7 of the Samurai. Is under the tutelage of Argyb, though he feels this battle is unnecessary. Element- Illusion.
Leo- Leonardo Francis, one of Tilda's previous partners. They had a deep, personal bond. Tilda considered him one of her greatest friends, and thought they would journey together for a very long time. However, his life was cut short by Eternity of Emptiness, The God of Immortality. This was the trigger that unlocked Tilda's spirit weapon, Natsume, and her fangs. Without him, she wouldn't have gotten her horns either. In that way, she feels very guilty about it, and misses him deeply.
Dark- The current leader of Hell. Dislikes Tilda for some reason. He is Satan's son, but instead of inheriting his name, he decided to be called Dark. Wears a blindfold most of the time. His element is unknown to most people, even demons. But people are aware of his terrifying spirit weapon, The Eternity Tower.
Information-
Gods only took human forms because it was popular to do so. And after some time, non-human forms ceased to exist. Gods can edit their bodies and make them look however they want, though you do have to have some level of skill to do so. So some gods are left with what they've got when they are born.
Spirits however are a different story. Changing parts of your body is very dangerous and is mostly unattempted by most. However, what spirits have found is that when a spirit believes hard enough, or acts a certain way long enough, or takes on a significant emotional push, their body may change to their desires. Rogan for example, even though she was born female, eventually gained a penis due to her habit of trying to pick up girls, combined with her desire to have one. Kage never felt fine with a penis, and so through long nights of being uncomfortable, woke up to find he had a vagina.
Very rarely do spirits find these changes negative, and often find it to be validating. Tilda finds this to be one of the many reasons spirits are amazing and superior to humans.
Next Chapter- Number 5 (Captain)
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Hello~ Can I request a Mark x fem reader who’s a lot like starfire and is very Powerful close to omni man and is also an alien princess but she lives on earth and they go to the same school and she’s also a solo hero who one day sees invincible fighting off a tough villain with the teenteam but is losing so she steps in to help and he recognizes her and starts getting all nervous since he has a crush on her and then after that they introduce themselves get to know each other and eventually work they’re way up to mark confessing and she says yes :3
(If possible can it be a slow burn im a sucker for slow burn tropes and stuff 😤)
A/N: I gotchu, this bout to be a lil long 😮💨 making the fem!reader a little more human, figured since she’s in an actual school for humans she’d need to adapt to the humor/culture so she doesn’t get suspicious
Pairing: Mark Grayson x Fem!Reader
Rating: M, some swearing and gross monster guts
Warnings: N/A
Summary: Mark is finally joined in battle by an alien princess who has caught his attention. Turns out she goes to the same high school, and if he can throw around 150-pound monsters across the street, surely he can confess his true feelings to a girl... right?
"Are you fucking kidding me right now?!" Rex Splode yelled as he wobbled up off the ground. "We've been on this thing for hours and it only has one damn cut!"
"Calm down Rex," Atom Eve said from behind, "You're gonna get even more tired from yelling."
The two watched as Dupli-Kate attempted to distract the scaly kaiju, replicating herself second after second to give space for Invincible to hit the monster by surprise. The kaiju's screech echoed throughout the city and shook the foundations of the surrounding buildings, forcing Rex, Atom Eve and Robot to move aside and save however many civilians they could.
"Invincible," Dupli-Kate shouted, "I can't keep up much longer!"
A sonic boom overcame the surrounding noise and Invincible appeared from the clouds. Dropping in at maximum speed, the young superhero balled his hand into a fist and took a deep breath. A loud battle cry escaped his mouth but it was cut short as the kaiju's heavy arm slapped him away just in time, throwing him through destroyed buildings until he landed on the pavement.
Out of breath, dizzy, and in a serious amount of pain, Invincible laid on the broken road for a second to regain his strength. The wind softly blew down on him as he focused his sight on a contrail leading towards him, and he watched as a girl in purple land right next to him.
She bent down and held him upright, "Invincible, are you okay?"
"Mmhmm," Invincible croaked with a defeated smile, "Totally fine."
His sight reverted back to normal and the first face he saw shocked him alive. It was her. They never talked in school and he was almost sure she didn't know his real name, but here she was, basically cradling him in her arms and calling him Invincible.
So she knows who I am. At least with the suit.
"Come on, that kaiju is about to be destroy the entire city," she said, helping him get back on his feet and flying away to the seemingly unbeatable figure.
He huffed, "Stay cool, Mark. She's here to help," and he followed suit.
This marked the first time he really interacted with the new superhero; he'd only ever see her on TV or read about how she saved people on the newspaper. He'd be lying if he said he didn't find her attractive — as do most guys his age — but watching her blast the kaiju with the green bursts of energy from her hands made her only even more appealing.
Invincible regrouped with the rest of the Teen Team. "I don't know what else we can do to this thing," Atom Eve admitted.
"I do," the girl spoke up. "Distract it as best as you can but stay far away from the stomach. When I tell you to take cover, make a run for it."
Robot replied, "That seems highly dangerous."
"Let's do it," Invincible quickly replied in a high-pitched voice.
Everyone looked over at him, surprised at the sudden change in his voice and just how fast he reacted in agreement.
"Uh, it's a good plan," he nodded, causing the girl to shoot a warm smile his way. "I definitely think we should do it... if all of you... uh, think, we should."
Exhausted and out of options, the rest of the group followed her orders and took different corners of the monster. Dupli-Kate handled one leg, Rex Splode handled the other, Robot and Atom Eve took the arms, and Invincible went back to the head. The kaiju struggled to keep its focus on just one of the heroes, and while it remained preoccupied, the girl absorbed all the energy she could muster and flew straight for the stomach.
"Take cover, now!"
Invincible and the Teen Team moved away and they watched as the flying hero's eyes opened in a bright shade of neon green, both her arms extended out as a large ball of green formed around her hands. The rays exploded right through the kaiju and it shrieked in pain as she briefly disappeared into the stomach. The kaiju lost balance and slowly fell forward as the girl, her eyes still green, appeared on the other side and harshly fell down on the ground.
The kaiju landed on the street with a loud boom and the group ran towards the girl who was now covered in parts of the kaiju's digestive system.
"Okay, that's kinda gross," Rex Splode commented, to which Dupli-Kate quickly responded, "Shut up."
Invincible dropped down on his knees and wiped the blood and guts off her face. Subtly admiring her facial features up close, he couldn't believe (and almost felt stupid) that he never recognized her despite the fact that he almost saw her everyday.
The girl groaned in agony softly shook her head, her eyes fluttering open to the sight of Invincible's dark hair, goggles and yellow mask.
"Hey, hey," he whispered, "Are you alright?"
She sat up and hissed at her injuries, holding her head with her bloody hand. "Mmhmm," she gently nodded with a half smile, her eye one still shut. "Totally fine."
---
Mark had a hard time focusing on school. His body ached from yesterday's injuries and he suffered a few bruises from literally tearing through buildings. He made his way to his locker and rested his head on the metal door, dreading the fact that he still has an entire afternoon of classes to go. Closing his eyes in hopes to quickly recharge, his moment of peace was disrupted when a shoulder rammed into his chest and several books landed right on his toe.
"Oh god, I'm so sorry," a voice exclaimed.
Mark's head snapped up at the sound of the voice. It's her. He momentarily froze and watched the girl bend down to pick up her things, and when he finally regained movement a split second later, he also bent down to help her out. He kept quiet as he tried to think of the coolest possible response to make her think that he was actually the coolest guy in school, but all he could think of was how heavenly and badass she looked yesterday.
"Thanks," she said as he handed her the book. "I hope your foot doesn't bruise."
They both stood up and he shot her a nervous smile. "T-totally fine," he replied, clearing his throat afterwards.
She crossed her brows at his response and nodded, and a look of suspicion replaced her worried demeanor.
"I'm Mark, by the way," he cleared his throat again and reached out his hand, "Grayson."
"Mark... Grayson, huh?" she responded, scanning his face as her suspicion grew. Her eyes finally landed on the hand that was waiting, and she took one last look into his eyes before deciding to shake it. "I'm Y/N," she introduced herself with a skeptical smile, feeling his sweaty palm wrapped around hers. "I'll see you around, Mark Grayson."
She walked away and Mark's eyes followed her trail as far as he could see. He quickly pulled out his phone to send a text to Eve, who was actually watching their interaction a few classrooms down.
"Mark," Eve called out as she moved towards him. “So I’m assuming...”
"You knew?” he asked her in disbelief. “Why didn't you tell me Y/N was a superhero? I just introduced myself to her as Mark Grayson and I'm almost positive she knows I'm Invincible."
"First off, it's not my secret tell," she answered with a shrug. "Second, you guys didn’t trade secrets or whatever?”
Mark shook his head in a panic, "No, but I'm guessing she also knows that I know her secret the same way I know she knows my secret." He rested his forehead on the locker door once again and groaned, "Ugh, I'm so into her, it isn't even funny. And this whole superhero thing just made it even more awkward."
Eve laughed, "Look, I'm not going to force her to tell you if she isn't up for it, but if you want, I can ask her to hang out with us later. Maybe — emphasis on maybe — my presence will make her comfortable enough to admit who she is."
"Okay, okay," he sighed, turning around to rest the back of his head. "My insides are dying."
"After the kaiju yesterday, be thankful you don't mean that in a literal sense."
---
Where in the hell is Eve?
Mark pulled out his phone for the third time in 10 minutes. Still no call or response from Eve to his text. He was getting evidently nervous; his palms were sweaty again and it felt like someone turned up the heat in Burger Mart. His left leg jerked up and down in anxiety as he stared at his phone, looking at the seconds on the clock icon tick by. If he were left alone with Y/N, he'd have no idea what to say. What does she like? Should I bring up the kaiju yesterday and praise Invincible? No, she'll just think I'm full of myself.
"Hey Mark."
He jolted and saw Y/N standing by the corner of the booth. "Hi!" he replied in that irritatingly high-pitched voice. Mark's heart began to race and the thoughts in his head ran wild. "Um... Have a seat. Sorry Eve isn't here yet, she actually hasn't answered my calls or my messages. Teenage girls, huh? What can you do?"
She crossed her brows again and chuckled, "That's fine, we can wait for Eve. But I think I'm more concerned about you."
"What do you mean?"
Y/N chuckled again, "You seem... nervous.”
He faked an obnoxiously loud laugh, “Me? Nervous?”
She watched him from across the table in silence, waiting for him to regain his composure.
When Mark couldn’t hear Y/N laughing with him, he finally shut up and shook his head. “Yeah, I am nervous, sorry,” he admitted, shutting his eyes tight.
She giggled, “Totally fine.”
Hearing her say those two words calmed his racing heartbeat. A smile crept on his face and she reciprocated, their eyes locking for a few seconds before both their phones buzzed.
“Oh, I just got a text from Eve,” Mark said.
“Me too.” She opened the message and began to read it out loud, “Sorry, can’t make it tonight. Something came up.”
“Have fun, you two,” he followed, his voice faltering. He placed his phone, screen down this time, back on the table and sighed, “Sorry, guess you’re stuck with me. That is, if you do want to stay and... hang out, and stuff.”
"Why wouldn’t I?” she replied, her warm smile easing Mark back into a relaxed state. “It’s nice to have a friend who...” she trailed off, “understands.”
“Understands what?” he asked.
“This thing people like us call life,” she answered. “You know, it took me a long time to acclimate here. I didn’t think I ever would, then I met friends who made this place feel like home. And home is a feeling I hadn’t felt in a really long time.”
Mark rested his elbows on the table and leaned in closer, “Well, I’m always here. You know, a-as a friend... or an acquaintance, even. I don’t, I don’t want to push it.”
Y/N giggled again, “You’re a funny man, Mark Grayson. This planet is lucky to have someone like you.” She reached out and held his hand, “And I’m even luckier to have you as a friend, or an acquaintance.”
He felt the heat rush to his face and he could swear his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. The afternoon flew by in a hurry as they engaged in lengthy conversations, fatty fast food, and childhood stories. While Mark was open to sharing every tiny detail — down to the color of the bleachers at the park where he played little league — Y/N kept hers pretty vague, leaving out descriptions of family members and even the places where these stories happened.
Mark’s phone buzzed again, but the vibrating pattern indicated it was a phone call. He turned the screen over and saw the unknown number; it was time to suit up.
“Shit, I’m sorry Y/N, but I need to go,” he said in a rush. “I have a... uh, an emergency.”
You couldn’t have thought of anything more specific?
“It’s cool. Um, don’t worry about it,” she said, shaking her head with her eyes glued to the vibrating phone.
Mark’s one leg was already out the booth before he decided to finally just go for it. Sitting back down with his now quiet phone in his hands, he took a deep breath.
“Y/N, I think you’re really cool. Can I maybe, like, call you sometime, or something?”
Her lips formed into smile that extended to her eyes, and it was enough for Mark to melt a little. “Of course. Yeah, sure,” she replied in excitement and typed down her number on his phone. She handed it back, “Now you know how to reach me if you’re getting your ass whooped again.”
His mouth fell open as his shaky hands grabbed his phone. “Wait—”
She smoothly slid out of the booth, “See you later, Invincible,” she winked, “Don’t get killed today.”
---
Luckily for Mark, no one got killed today. Maybe a few wounds here and there, but nothing painful enough that will land him in the GDA hospital. After spending an hour in the shower, he finally managed to lie down on his bed and rest his body. He sank into the mattress and closed his eyes, taking in the seconds of undisturbed peace that have become rare moments since he got his powers.
As he replayed the events of today’s fights in his head, his mind drifted off to the hours he spent with Y/N. He pulled out his phone and mustered the courage to press the dial button, and the repeating sound of the ringing was making his pulse race.
“Hello?”
“Oh good, you didn’t die today.”
Mark chuckled and sandwiched his hand between his head and the pillow. “It wasn’t that bad today, just took a few hits,” he explained. “So listen, Y/N, I was wondering, uh—”
She cut him off, “What are you doing right now?”
“What?”
“What are you doing right now?” she repeated.
“Um, nothing, just getting some rest” he sat up and looked around. “Why?”
“If you’re not too tired, do you maybe...”
Mark smiled, “Maybe...?”
“I don’t know, sneak out? My roof is pretty comfortable.”
Silently fist pumping, he fully stood up and nodded, “Text me the address.”
Just as quietly as he exited his room via the window, he softly landed on Y/N’s roof. Swiftly flying up and greeting him, she took the place next to him and crossed her legs.
“You’re right, your roof is pretty comfortable,” Mark said.
She chuckled at his remark then noticed a gash by his right temple. Her brows furrowed in worry, “You have a wound,” she said, making sure not to touch it.
“Don’t worry about it,” he replied, softly holding her hand and placing it back down with his. “Totally fine.”
Those words brought her some sense of comfort as her eyes softened, causing her to unconsciously squeeze his hand. Mark’s eyes widened and he looked down at their tangled fingers, frozen for a moment.
“Is this... okay with you?” he asked.
She nodded. “Wanna lie down? Since my roof is so comfortable?” she asked with a smirk.
“Sure,” Mark chuckled, removing his hand from her’s and stretching his arm out as they lied down. Y/N rested her head on his shoulder, keeping her eyes up at the stars.
“Hey Mark?”
“Yeah?”
A moment of silence.
“Thank you for coming.”
He looked down at her as she met his eyes, “You’re welcome.”
The two shared a smile, and Mark took a deep breath as he prepared himself for the words that were about to come out of his mouth.
It’s now or never, Mark. Now or never.
“Watching you kick ass yesterday was... really a sight to see,” he began. “You’re powerful and strong, but more importantly, brave. And you’re so fucking beautiful and kind and smart and...” Mark trailed off, sighing, “I never thought I would be in this position — with you next to me in a very comfortable rooftop under the stars.”
“Mark...”
“And I really like you. Like, really, really like you.”
“Mark.”
“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, but I just wanted to let you know. It’s important that you know—”
“Mark,” she cut him off. “I like you too. A lot.”
He breathed a sigh of relief and covered his eyes with his free hand. “Oh thank god. Thank god!” he exclaimed.
Y/N shushed him, “You’re gonna wake up the neighborhood, Invincible.”
“Sorry,” he giggled quietly, “I got excited.”
She laughed and faced her body towards him. They locked eyes again, and Mark didn’t know if it was gravity or just the adrenaline that pushed him, but he finally leaned down and met her lips. Static ran through his body as he deepened the kiss, and he felt an excitement that was even more exhilarating than the first time he flew.
She pulled away and Mark ran his hand through her hair, resting his hand on her cheek. “How was that?” he asked.
She smiled gently and placed her hand over his, “Totally fine.”
#sorry this turned out way longer than expected#mark grayson x reader#invincible x reader#mark grayson#invincible fanfiction
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Going Home
Jet-Black Hero: Tsukuyomi / Tokoyami Fumikage x Fem!Reader - Pro Hero AU (in their 20s)
Tokoyami had it bad. He had it so bad he had to bribe dark shadow to keep his mouth shut about it when you would call him. Sure he’s older than he was in high school and has more control over his quirk partner- he could force him to keep his mouth shut, but it feels wrong to force him to do anything when he’s a friend
You met Tokoyami in high school, becoming instant friends and bonding over darkness and crime shows. You even went as scully and mulder one Halloween together. But then you moved to a different country before senior year and he hasn’t been able to physically see you since.
You kept in contact religiously. He was your best friend and you told him you’d die if he doesn’t remain that way. You talk every day whenever you have free time and FaceTime every Monday and Wednesday alternating evenings and mornings for each other whenever hero work allows.
You have a separate conversation going on Snapchat, Instagram, and texts that you both stay on top of. Your Snapchat streak said 1174 and you’d be damned if it ever broke before you got to see him again. And yes, somewhere along the lines, you fell for him, but you’d never tell him. You’d never ruin your friendship like that.
“Remember to pick her up at noon” Dark Shadow said into his mind and he rolled his eyes, like he would ever forget the date and time his best friend would be in his life again. The second his agency was confirmed he extended a contract toward you, a popular new hero who was looking for an agency. A six month contract with abilities to extend should it feel like a good fit.
“Seriously? Not just because I’m your friend? You honest to god think our quirks would work well if I’m your side kick? On the bracelet?” He nods into the phone camera and then looks down at the purple adjustable bracelet you had gotten for him on your last arcade adventure before you moved, a matching black one on your wrist.
“I swear on the bracelet” he said, heart skipping. Yes he knew your quirks would work well together that was true. But he also knew that he was dying to see to again and when you said you only needed a good enough opportunity to move back, he saw a perfect opportunity that fate had handed you both.
Your black bracelet was faded to grey over the years of never taking it off but your heart beat raced in your chest. “Okay” you say with a smile and warm cheeks “I’ll have my agent look over the contract and I’ll give it a serious thought career wise.” Your eyes sparkled and he hoped your agent liked the proposal. His heart racing as you smiled at him like that. God he loved your smile.
“I like it. It would be good for your hero image if you had hero work in other countries as well. Young hero going back home. We can make a good story out of it how you were home sick. It’s also good that it’s with your best friend.” You checked out after she said she liked it. You were going home. You were going home.
You called Tokoyami right away and he answered on almost the last ring. “I’m sorry I just needed to talk to you” you said and took a deep breath as he work up “no it’s fine. It’s always fine when it’s you” his voice was tired and thick and you could only imagine how it would be in person.
“I have some news” you said with a smile and he perked up, sitting up in bed and against his headboard as he looked out his window at the night sky “what is it?” He asks, trying not to feel too excited as the phone presses hard against his ear.
“Guess” you said with a teasing tone and he knew immediately
“Really?” He asks, not being able to hide the excitement in his tone as his empty fist shoots up in celebration
“She said she liked it. It’ll be good for my image” you said with a grin, holding the phone in the crook of your neck as you play with the bracelet you’ve never taken off.
“When?” He asks eagerly
“You should know when Fumi, you made the contract” you joke and he chuckles
“no I know when your first day will be but when are you coming here?” He needs to know how much longer. How much more time will be spent away from you
“A week”
he laughs once out of shock and joy “a week?” He asks and you laugh, joy lacing every part of your voice
“my agent got me a flight and an apartment. The building I asked for already had one open and it was easy peasy. It’ll be furnished for me so I’ll be there next Wednesday at noon. Then I’ll have three weeks there before I start work. With you”
He couldn’t believe it. It went so fast he feels like his heart is spasming. Eight years away from you and only one week to go. “I’ll pick you up text me your itinerary”
“Okay” you say with a laugh and then smirk as you say “you’re not gonna ask where I’m gonna be living?”
“Where?”
“#407” you say and it takes him a moment but he gets there
“You mean six doors down?” He asks and you laugh
“Yeah I hope you don’t mind. I just thought it would be fun” you feel nervous like he’s not gonna like it, your palms sweat
“That’s amazing I’m so happy” he says and you grin “really? You don’t mind I’m living in your building?”
“Why would I mind? The best person in my life is going to be my neighbor. I can’t wait”
You hear his alarm go off and gasp “I’m sorry Fumi I didn’t mean to ruin your sleep”
He laughs “you didn’t. Trust me. But I do have to go to work. To get things set for you to be here.”
“Okay. I’ll text you. Be safe today Fumi”
—
His hands feel sweaty as he stands at the gates. Jesus. Was this even a good idea? Fuck he was so nervous. Your plan had landed he was just waiting for the doors to open. When the fight attendants opened the door he felt dark shadow getting nervous as well.
But then he saw you, a hat on your head and sunglasses on to try and stay inconspicuous in American airports but since you were here now you took them off and ran your hand through your hair before scanning the room.
Fuck you were so beautiful his mouth was dry. You were so cute in pictures and face time but it had nothing on you in person. You were an angel. This was a bad idea he was too in love to do this.
Your eyes meet his and you smile wide, your hat and glasses in one hand and a water bottle in the other as you start making your way to each other. You started off walking and weaving around the slow walkers but once you had space you couldn’t stop increasing your speed before you were running for him, your water bottle clanging to the ground as you dropped everything and threw off your backpack to slam into his strong arms, laughing as tears fall into his neck as you bury your face into him.
“Hey Fumi” you whispered and held you tighter. You smelled amazing. Like fresh air and rosemary. He couldn’t get enough. He held you tight to his chest and realized you felt smaller in his arms but then he realized when you left he was 5’5 and tiny. He’s grown a lot since then and even though you have changed too, he’s still a much larger man than he was before.
He dwarfed you. You never thought it was even possible. He held you completely and you never wanted him to let go. “Fumikage” you say as you pull back, making sure he keeps his arms around your waist. You reach up and run your hand down his long feathers down the back of his head “you’re much larger in person holy crap. and your feathers are so beautiful!!! Fumi!!. I forgot the beautiful shades in the darkness of the black. How are you still single Fumi you must be dripping with fans” You joked but your heart hurt saying it. You wanted to hear him say he wasn’t dating. That he has feelings for you.
He looks down at you and feels pride swell in his heart as you praise him, controlling the urge to fluff out his feathers when you call them beautiful.
“No one wants to date a fan” he says shutting down your investigative prodding at his love life, but then says “You’re one to talk you’ve changed so much but I didn’t even know it was possible to be this gorgeous. Don’t think I didn’t read about America’s most eligible bachelorette.”
Your cheeks flush with heat and you hide your face in his neck “oh hush Fumi. Always flustering me. Like you haven’t FaceTimed me every week. And that article was a joke” he sighs softly and you can see emotions swirling in his eyes.
“It’s different in person” he says and you sigh as you gaze up at him with a smile “it certainly is”
Once dark shadow decided to ruin the moment you remembered you were still in the airport. Fumi carried your big suitcase like it wasn’t a hundred pounds and before you could object dark shadow had your backpack across his back. Dark Shadow just laughed when you stuck your tongue out at him. “we’ve really missed you” he said when he handed you your water, your glasses and hat already on his body
—
You fall back into an easy rhythm with Fumikage, teasing and playing while talking in his car back to the apartment. After laughing so hard and catching your breath, you look over at his profile and your heart skips. The sun is hitting his feathers, his black button up shirt that was unbuttoned at the neck pulled at his biceps as his right hand rests against the shifter and his left hand was on the steering wheel. God you didn’t know if this was a good idea. You thought you were going back to your childhood home but being with Fumikage nothing has felt more like home than this.
“The boxes you sent over should be here in the next few days. If you need anything or don’t have something you can always come over, I have a spare key for emergencies” he’s going over a few things that it seems like he’s really thought about before you came. He was prepared and it warmed your heart. You smiled up at him as the elevator dinged for the fourth floor and he looked down at you eyes widening as he catches you staring. you smile and reach out, taking a gentle hold on his free hand near you and give it a soft squeeze. “Thank you Fumi. You think of everything. I’ve really missed that”
He doesn’t let go of your hand until he has to unlock his front door, you’d be staying the night with him and your agent was meeting you in the morning with the keys for your place.
his fingers tingle to grab for your hand again but he doesnt
“You can have my room, I’ll take the couch in my office. It’s a pull out.” You smile from your place standing on the landing just inside the door, watching as he disappears with your luggage down a hallway then comes back walking a little slower and playing with his hands like he does when he’s nervous.
The edge of the landing went down a couple steps and he stopped at the bottom edge “feel free make yourself at your home” he says with a nervous chuckle and you grin, running and jumping off the landing into his arms and burying your face in his shoulder.
“Oh Fumi eight years was too long” you whispered into him and he holds you up effortlessly, his beak brushing your shoulder and he curves into you, desperate to hold you after so long “way too long” he agreed.
———
The weeks seemed to fly by, you were settled into your apartment and you just got done with your first official week at the office.
“So, Tsukuyomi, Sir” you say with a smirk and lean against his open office door “how was my first day boss?”
He crosses his arms over his wide chest and gave you his best Boss look, making your heart flutter and causing your cheeks to heat up. you chuckled and tried not to show how flustered you were when you walked farther into his office. He stood from his desk and gave you a nod with a soft chuckle “you did well. I think you’re going to love it here. Let me take you to dinner tonight to celebrate”
——
He showed up at your door at seven and your breath catches in your throat when you see him. Black straight jeans with a black button up tucked in with a red tie and black boots. He looked divine. Like a god of the underdark. His hands were fixing his tie and you stepped forward, not missing the squeak of his own breath catching in his throat at the sight of you, and fixed his tie for him.
You had on a red dress and a black jean jacket that has rolled sleeves and pair of black booties that look like you could kick someone’s ass in them. His brain immediately short wired and all he can think is how well you look together. How right. How good. Fuck this was going to be harder than he thought to just be your friend but he didn’t want to you to think he was a sleaze or make you quit his agency.
Your hands fix his tie and then rest against his chest, when you see his flustered eyes and nervous body language you chuckle and lean up, kissing his beak gently, then wiping the lipstick with your thumb “you look really handsome Fumi” you say softly and he feels a whimper catch in his throat.
your eyes turn from him up to Dark Shadow who had on a matching tie “is it too much?” He asks and you laugh “you look good in it but I do think you pull off natural look best” he nods and salutes you “message received” before taking it off and tossing it into your apartment behind you.
When you look back to Fumi he’s glaring at Dark Shadow like he was a bad child and you chuckled before boldly taking his hand, hoping you read the signs right and that he did feel the same.
“Are you ready?” You ask and he nods, his fingers tighten around your hand as he relaxes, giving you a soft squeeze before placing your hand on his bicep and holding you close as he cleared his throat “I got a reservation at this new restaurant downtown” he says as you enter the elevator and you smile up at him “anywhere with you is perfect”
Dinner went by incredibly quick, you sat in a back booth, talking and laughing the whole night. It was a new restaurant that catered to people with any kinds of quirks and had surprisingly good tofu and fish. (I mean who’s gonna get the chicken on date with a bird?)
By the end of the meal he’s grabbed your hand over the table and is running his fingers against yours softly. “Thank you for tonight Fumi, I really feel like being here was the right choice. I would have came no matter what my agent said” his eyes widened a little
“Really?” He asks and you laugh with a grin “of course! You’re special to me and I just needed a good reason to come back home” your expression was so soft he felt those three words crawl up his tongue.
His eyes look serious for a moment as he looks at the way your hands look together “y/n I need to tell you something” he says and gets extra serious
“What is it?” You ask, trying to keep your voice neutral even tho you know your face screams ‘I’m worried now’
He meets your eye for a few long seconds before he shakes his head. He couldn’t. He couldn’t ruin this close friendship when he wasnt positive his feelings would be returned. “Never mind. It’s not that important. What do you say about dessert?”
He was leaning on the table on his elbows, close enough to reach out and touch over the tiny table, and so you did. You reach up and ran your fingers lightly over the edges of his feathers with a soft smile. “Of course Fumi. But how about we go to the cookie place by the park you always talk about. I know you like it and it’s a perfect night for a walk.” He swallows hard and nods “that’s a perfect idea” he says as he signals for the waiter to pay.
You hold his hand all the way to the cookie place, talking easily and joking around, but you keep hoping for the perfect moment to confess. You had a feeling that’s what he was going to do at the restaurant, it changed your heart and convinced you to take the leap, almost positive he felt the same.
You sit on a bench in the park, one with perfect view of the city skyline, eating your cookies and dark shadow is teasing you about the time you kept stealing Tokoyami’s poptarts from the dorm kitchen. Your cheeks are hot and you’ve turned yourself towards Tokoyami, your left hand on your cheek and your face hidden in his shoulder as you laughed together, your right hand rested on his kid thigh. It felt so easy. So absolutely right.
You drop your hand from your cheek and look up at Tokoyami with a soft smile, heart racing at the emotion you find in his eyes.
“I’m sorry for stealing your poptarts” you say and his throat catches again at the way your eyes seem to shine with love for him he almost feels it’s too much but he wants to dive deeper, to drown in the love he finds.
He chuckles and cups your cheek “I never cared. I had the hugest crush on you then”
Your heart skips and your cheek heats even more under his touch “and now?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper
“Now I’m so in love I don’t know if it’s even quantifiable” he says with a hint of exasperation as he leans down and presses his forehead to yours.
Your eyes flutter closed as your heart thrums against your ribs, his confession echoing in your head as fireworks explode in your heart. You press a kiss on his beak and your heart skips when you hear a gasp catch in his throat
“I’m in love with you too, Fumi” you say and he pulls you into a hug, nuzzling his beak into your neck, wanting to get close to you to show you how much he loves you the best he can since he can’t properly kiss you.
He nips softly at your neck skin and you giggle so sweetly he feels light headed. You pull back and kiss his cheek before looking into his eyes. He cups your cheek again “that’s what I wanted to say back at the restaurant”
You chuckle and smile, taking his hand you press gentle kisses against his palm, trailing a few down to his wrist before saying with a smirk “I know”
#tokoyami fanfiction#tokoyami x you#tokoyami imagine#tokoyami fluff#tokoyami x y/n#tokoyami x reader#tokoyami fukimage#mha tokoyami#mha fluff#mha fanfiction#mha x you#mha x reader#mha x y/n#bnha x y/n#bnha x fem!reader#bnha x reader#bnha x you#bnha fanfiction#bnha fumikage#bnha tokoyami#mha fumikage
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His property
Word count: 6.0k
Genre: SMUT, maybe angst, romantic ? Lots of Dabi lol not sure if it’s yandere... yeah
Warnings: 18+, kidnapping I guess, fire play. Not sure how old Melissa actually is, so if she’s underage in anime, here she’s at least 21 y/I and allowed to drink
Qurikless OC being "saved" from not so hero person. :)
Being quirkless didn’t bother me that much. Sure, i was jealous when my friends started developing their own quirks, showing of. When they used to make a little show, competition which quirk is better, all I could do is sit in the side and adore them.
My parent were telling me almost every day to try to stay out of trouble. If there is a hero fighting a villain, I should just walk away. Because even their power can harm me. I learnt that I can just be at the wrong place In the wrong time and I could be in trouble. They always taught me to be extra careful.
When I was a kid, I used to depend on my parents too much. Today it was kinda different, I was giving my best to be independent as much as I can. Working at a small coffee shop, living in my small apartment. Trying to live as quiet as possible.
,,One caramel macchiato and one chocolate cappuchino” my co-worker said loudly for me to hear. Even tho it could be stressing, I loved my job. I loved making different drinks and talk with people.
I made a little ok sign and started making the ordered drinks.
The shift was passing real fast since there was a lot of work, there wasn’t even time for break. Of course, I could catch a minute and smoke one real fast. Being honest, I was fine with that.
After long ass night I changed into my dress and finally went home. Home wasn’t far from my working place, so if the weather is nice, I would take a walk instead of going home with bus.
,, Great” I hissed after trying to lit my cigarette. Perfect timing for my lighter to die. Little piece of shit gave up on me after such a hard time at work.
I sat down on the end of the bench, trying to find another one while the cigarette was still between my lips. There was nothing worse then forgetting your lighter or when it stops working.
,, Need a little help?” a man asked. I knew that few of them were sitting on the bench, but I didn’t pay attention that much. Before I could turn my head around to face him and take his lighter, his hand was in front of me, and he was lightning my cigarette up with his finger. Small blue fire coming from his finger, looking hella familiar. The purple skin with silver patches didn’t make a klick in my head either.
,,Thanks” I said fast, curious who it is, since my brain was telling me that I know this person. But once I looked at him, his head was already turned to another direction. Not wanting to bothering him or his friends, I just left believing it was someone I saw on my work. After all, we have a lot of costumers.
Time after work was my favorite, especially if I didn’t have to wake up early next day. A glass of wine, face mask, and phone in my hand. I couldn’t force myself to spend rest of the night locked up watching TV, so I enjoyed the beautiful weather on my balcony. I could see the little group of friends from my balcony. So I was lowkey stalking them a little, sad I couldn’t hear shit they were talking about. My little stalking was interrupted by a small vibration coming from my phone.
Of course it was Melissa. My one and only friend, quirkless bitch just like me. Usually I am not a person to use apps for meeting new people, but when I saw that there is an app for us quirkless sad motherfuckers, I had to instal it. And that’s how I met my soulmate Melissa.
Melissa: ,, What are you doing? I am on my way to your place´´
To Melissa: Chilling on the balcony and sipping on my wine. I´ll be on my way to buy us another bottle and strawberries.
I couldn’t even place my phone on the table and another message was already there.
Melissa: AMAZING!!! Can´t wait to get wasted with you. See ya in a bit loveeee u
Since The shop is near café and my home, there was no need for me to change. I was already in my pajama shorts and shirt, so all I did was wear my baggy hoodie over it. Taking my wallet, I sprinted fast to the shop.
The very next day, I had to work with a worst hangover ever. Melissa left my place around 10AM, groaning in frustration she had to wake up so early. But at least she didn’t have to work.
My shift began at 13PM, so I had some time to rest and let the painkillers work their wonder on me. Sadly the time before my shift started passed faster then I could imagine, and once again I found myself at my work.
From 13 to 16PM there isn´t much work. There are some people passing by after the end of their shifts, our usual costumers coming at the same time. But the exactly at 17PM is where the hell starts.
That was the very reason I liked morning shifts more, even tho I had to wake up so early. It was still less work then in late shift.
More and more orders were coming. Usually I would somehow manage to keep my shit together somehow, but this time I was real mad my boss didn’t get more workers. It could be much easier if there was 3 of us in the shift, instead of two of us.
Like we didn’t have enough stress already, there was a huge explosion near the café. Not paying much attention to it I continued making the drinks.
,, Get down!´´ my co-worker screamed and pulled me under the desk with her. I tried to peek and see what´s happening but in the very moment I did it there was another explosion, blowing me almost away.
In that moment I didn’t know if the explosion was beside our café again, or in it. But I could hear people screaming.
My co-worker started crying, telling me how my face is all bloody. Which was pretty weird, since I felt good. She was pulling me to the back side of the café telling me to use the back door and wait for her.
I did as she told me, seeing the mix of the red and blue flames freaked me out. It was the first time in my life to end up in situation like this, so a wave of panic took over me. Sobbing loudly, I sat down, hugging my knees. I was waiting for my co-worker, too scared to try and get help on my own, since I could still hear screams and people fighting.
Another explosion, probably in the café, since once again I was blown away. I could hear Ryuku and Kamui Woods asking if someone is here. But I couldn’t say a word, as much as I wanted to. I wanted to scream, but even a whisper was heavy at that moment.
Their voices were like echo, and the buildings around me started to get blurry.
I could feel my forehead being touched. My hair being placed behind my ear and someone telling me to wake up. Once I opened my eyes, I saw arm resting beside my head on the street. The same purple skin I saw last night.
I forced myself to look up, and the moment I saw that face, I felt embarrassed I didn’t recognize it before. Of course it was Leauge´s villain Dabi. Maybe the fact that I was trying to ignore the news around as much as possible, thinking if I stay in my safe zone I´ll protect myself. But of course I knew the League of Villains. Of course I knew Himiko Toga, Kurogiri, Shigaraki, Dabi and the rest of them. As much as I wanted to ignore everything happening in the city, I simply knew about them. Everyone does.
,, No´´ I whispered, not being able to feel pain or fear. My eyes looking beside him hoping hero or my co-worker will come and save me.
Dabi lowered himself trying to get my focus on him.
,, They are all gone. ´´ He said looking me directly in the eyes. Whit those words all the hope I had died. I closed my eyes while tears started to roll down my cheeks. This was it, I thought. Either way I´ll die from bleeding out or he´ll kill me.
,, Don´t worry babe, I won´t hurt you´´ He whispered, still playing with my hair. I had no power to say anything, all I could do is wait to fall into unconsciousness again.
His hands tried to pull me up, but somehow in that very moment everything started to feel heavy and I felt like I was about to vomit.
,,Fine, if you want to die, then die´´ He said, and once again everything else was black.
I woke up with sudden urge to vomit again. Being in dark unfamiliar room didn´t help either. The only thing that helped was the fact that I was alive. Before I could stand up and find bathroom, I vomited all over the floor. Maybe it´s weird, but I started crying, not only because I had no idea where I was, but also because I vomited. It´s a nightmare for me.
The door suddenly opened and at my surprise Dabi got inside. Which followed with me vomiting once more and crying again. Didn´t he let me die ?
,,Goddammit, I even prepared a bucket for you, can´t you use it ?´´ He said calmly. Grabbing my arm harshly, he pulled me up and forced me to walk out of the room.
,, I´m sorry´´ I sobbed, not wanting to make any problems. I didn´t want to do anything to provoke the villain.
,, Wait here´´ he said, forcing me to sit in the kitchen. Then he went back in the room I slept in.
The kitchen wasn’t big, but it wasn´t small either. There was a counter with drinks, and two tall uncomfortable chairs. On the other side were cabinets, sink, dishwasher, stove and freezer. Everything was in light and dark shade of gray.
,, Well, you can vomit like world champion´´ Dabi´s voice echoed thru the room. I could hear the toilet flush and his steps coming closer. It took him a second and there he was, standing in front of me. He went to the other side of the counter, took one glass and filled it with cold water.
,, So babe, what happened back there?´´ he asked, placing the glass in front of me. I was scared and confused, and I didn’t have any courage to look the man in the eyes or say anything.
,, I don´t know´´ I said quietly. He sighed and took a small box of cigarettes out of his pocket. Lighting his cigarette up with his quirk, just like he did yesterday.
,, You are lucky I noticed you trying to hide back there, since your little friend left without thinking twice´´ he said, as he puffed on his cigarette.
I wasn´t sure if I should feel sad, betrayed or mad. From all of the people back there, a villain saved my life. But I did feel thankful to him.
,,Thank you´´ I said, looking at him. His cigarette between his lips, eyes half closed.
,, What should I do with you´´ he said, finishing the cigarette and taking another one from the box. He placed the box in front of me.
When he realized that I won´t take one, he stood up and made his way toward me. Standing behind me, he placed his hands on my shoulders, slowly massaging them. His one hand pulled my hair back lightly, and other one placed his already lit cigarette in front of my lips.
,, Come on love, I know you smoke´´ he said, placing the cigarette between my lips with a little force. In a moment, his face was inches away from mine. I could feel his breath on my neck, making me freeze in the place.
,, Maybe I should keep you for myself here´´ he whispered, breathing deeply on my ear. ,,After all, I can protect your quirkless little body´´ he addes slowly.
There were many things going thru my mind at that moment. What did he mean ? How did he know I don´t have a quirk?
Days and weeks passed and there I was still at Dabi´s place. First few days I was left alone, either way he was really busy or just wanted to give me some time. Dabi let me sleep in his room, since I couldn´t force myself to sleep in the one I vomited. Maybe it was my imagination, but I could still smell the vomit.
His room was decorated in dark shades. One black king sized bed in the middle, dark green walls and black furniture. On the right side were huge windows and balcony. Since I was alone, I gave myself a little bit of freedom. After all, he didn´t seem that dangerous as everyone said.
At the beginning he didn´t let me cook or do anything that could be dangerous in his opinion. He didn´t trust me at all, being sceptic that I might poison him. He did try to keep me entertained, giving me Nintendo Switch with some games like Pokemon, Super Mario, etc. He also didn´t have any problem with Netflix or whatever I wanted. I know those are small things, but being with him, I expected less.
After some weeks passed, I was seeing him more often. He would casually get inside his room, since there was the balcony. Without knocking or any sign. Well, it was his room after all. Sometimes he would just bring us some fast food, ice cream and force me to eat with him. At least he thought so. I didn´t have any problem with it.
After 3 weeks passed, I started to realize that I was pretty much attracted to this man. I wasn´t someone who falls easily for a man, but his attitude, his cold personality, the way he moves, the way he talks, the way I could catch him look at me, it was all extremely attractive to me. It probably all started the day I caught him sitting beside me, thinking I was asleep. It was around 3AM when I heard him coming inside his room. He sat beside me, and started caressing my cheek softly.
In that moment all I could do was just pretend that I was still asleep.
After that night, he would come at night and just sit there with me, thinking I was asleep.
I opened the window and sat on the balcony, admiring the sight of the buildings and colorful lights coming form the streets, and cars.
,, I don´t remember allowing you to go outside.´´
He was standing to my left side, looking at the street.
,, Planning how to run away?´´ He added, not paying attention to me. He was wearing black pants, with dark grey oversized sweater. His presence was too much for me, it wasn’t that I was scared of him, but I was too shy, I couldn´t look him in the eye without thinking about him sitting next to my ´´sleeping´´ form and looking at me, playing with my hair.
,, You know what will happen if you even try´´ he said getting closer to me. I could feel his hands on my hips, holding them firmly. I could smell his strong cologne mixed with smoke. He told me if I even think about running away, he would burn me down even my ashes will disappear. Somehow he knew who my parents are, who my friends are and he said he would kill every single one of them.
At first I didn’t believe him, somehow I thought he isn´t capable of something like that. But I changed my mind once I saw him on the news, where it was talk about his victims.
His thumb was going in circles, making a small pressure on my hip. I didn´t think of running away. First of all I wasn´t brave enough, second of all, I was so unimportant to this world that I didn´t hear shit about me on the news.
,, Can I have my phone ?´´ I asked him, not thinking about his reaction or anything. I just wanted to contact my parents and Melissa.
,,Wha..?´´ he laughed out. His hold getting stronger, keeping me in my place.
,, Babe, do you think I´m that stupid ?´´ he laughed, turning me around to face him. If I wasn´t in a situation like this, I would probably feel the urge to touch his scars, being so close to me.
,, I just want to contact my family and my friend. I won´t do anything that might harm you´´ I said, not breaking the eye contact.
,, Harm me ? ´´ he laughed, his face inches from mine. This man was indeed driving me crazy.
,, Please, you can control me if you want. I won´t delete any message, I´ll do whatever´´ I managed to say somehow. His lips being so close, it was a wonder I could speak at all.
The moment his lips brushed against mine, I felt all possible feeling I could in my stomach. ,, You´ll do whatever?´´ he said, his head still tilled to the side, and lips brushing over mine. I could feel a small smirk forming on his lips.
,,I´ll think about it´´
After that day, he didn´t hold himself at all. Doesn´t matter what I was doing, if he felt like being close to me, he would just do it. If I was cleaning, making myself a snack, playing some games, he would just casually slip his hands around my waist.
Laying down on the couch, legs up on the wall, while playing Super Mario. There was one level I couldn´t pass as hard as I tried to. It was just too troublesome. Dabi was sitting in the kitchen, smoking and watching the gameplay. I could hear him mumbling something to himself, before he made his way and sat beside me, taking the controllers out of my hand.
I was surprised when he started passing the level without any trouble, defeating Iggy Koopa so easily.
,, YAAASSS´´ I screamed grabbing the sleeve of his hoodie and shaking it happily. I was dealing with that level probably two days in a row.
In the moment when I was about to ask him how did he do it so easily, he threw the controllers to the side, grabbing my right leg with his left hand, and my hip with his right hand. Pulling my body to his direction. I couldn´t even understand what was exactly happening in that moment, since it happened so fast. He placed my legs around him, and hovered over me.
,, Don´t I need a little present for this win?´´ he said looking at me, placing small kisses over my face. This time, I couldn´t suppress the need to touch his scars. The curiosity took over me, and suddenly I found myself, placing my index finger beside his lip. Moving my finger lightly to the left side of his face. The moment I did that he froze in the place, not kissing me, or doing anything. His body twitched once my finger was under his eye, touching the scars and the small patches.
He grabbed my jaw, and kissed me forcefully, forcing his tongue inside, not giving me a chance to breath. His other hand was under focused on pulling my shirt up, just enough for my bra to be visible.
,, You are driving me crazy´´ he said, his lips now on my neck, one hand still on my jaw and other grabbing my left breast making me moan suddenly. I could feel him smirk while leaving wet love marks over my neck.
Having Dabi around was something I hoped for now. I was hoping for those unexpected touches and waiting for him to come at night like he always did.
What surprised me was the fact that he actually gave me my phone. Telling me that he will control my messages and that if he notices I´m deleting them, things won´t be smooth as they are now.
Somehow, I didn´t even feel the urge to write something bad, to ask for help or anything ? I found myself wanting to be in his presence, I wanted him to be close to me.
He already contacted my parents and Melissa before, telling them that I´m alright. He ignored the rest of the messages they sent me. They wanted to see me, they were worried. Melissa thought she did something wrong, since I was ignoring her.
The moment I contacted her, my phone started buzzing with all the messages she started sending me. Where am I? Why did I ignore her ? What happened ? Am I ok ? What happened to my work?
To my parents I simply wrote that I’m fine and safe.
At my surprise, they told me they know where I am, and that we can work it out. They told me that he waited for them home one night. Telling them he felt they need to know where you are, and telling them if they try contacting a hero or police what will happen to me.
I told them that there is no need for me to go anywhere and that I feel safer then I ever was.
After I found out that my parents know, I felt the need to tell everything to Melissa too. She was my best friend after all and I knew she would understand me.
I explained everything what happened that night. Explained how he saved me, how he’s taking care of me and trying to give me everything I need. At first she was really surprised once I mentioned his name. I mean, who wouldn’t be surprised ? But if I’m happy, then she’s happy too. She never judged me even once.
Dabi wasn’t home, so out of boredom I decided to make some food. Maybe he’ll eat it too once he comes home. I decided to make Spaghetti with Quattro formaggi sauce. I noticed that he really likes cheese, so maybe he will give it a try.
After having dinner on my own, I decided to watch some movie on Netfix before I go to bed and once again wait for him. The movie wasn’t anything special, but I still forced myself to finish it. My mind was away all the time, not being focused on the movie at all. All I could think of was Dabi. If someone told me that I would be so desperate for LOV’s villain Dabi, I wouldn’t believe them. But there I was, waiting for him like a lost puppy.
Placing my phone on the Kitchen counter, I made my way to his bedroom. For some reason he was still sleeping in the other room. Making me wonder how does it feel to sleep next to him, and why he let me sleep in his room for such a long time.
I slowly lain down on the right side of the bed, focusing on the lights coming from the outside. Covering my lower part with the blanket. The soft lace pajama that was hugging my body, gave me some comfort in some weird way. I lain on my stomach and placed my left arm under my pillow. Closing my eyes, I inhaled a deep breath trying to keep myself awake.
It was around 2AM when I heard the door slowly open. I could hear his steps, I could hear how he’s in the kitchen, taking my phone, and shortly after placing it back again. I could hear the shower and his soft humming.
Not shortly after that, I could hear him coming. Slowly opening the door and making his way toward me. Sitting to my left side, he took a deep breath, placed his long lags next to mine, and slowly caressing my head. His fingers slowly found their way to my neck, moving left and right.
,,I know you’re awake’’ he said, as his finger slowly brushed the lace on my right shoulder down. In one moment, he was pacing a kiss on my shoulder, and in the next one he was hovering over me. I could feel him on my back. His face inches from mine. When our eyes met, I wasn’t sure if I felt embarrassed or glad.
He took a deep breath once more, and started placing kisses down my back, while his fingers were on my hips. With every kiss, I was going more and more insane.
Dabi got off me, and pulled me to lie to the side, once again facing my back.
,, Such a good girl for me’’ he said pushing my pajama slowly up, and touching my right breast slowly, while biting my neck. All I could do was move my head in the right direction, giving him more access to my neck.
,, Move your legs a bit for me babe’’ he said, placing his hand under my shorts. He didn’t give me a chance to do it on my own tho, forcefully moving my tights and slipping his hand under my panties. My head fall back onto his chest, moan slipping out of my mouth once I felt his touch.
,, Are you my good girl?’’ he asked, stopping his fingers form any movement. Feeling his hot breath on my neck, I forgot how to speak properly.
,, Y-yes’’ I managed to say somehow. Every kiss, breath, word, move from him, made me crazy wanting for more. I could lie to myself and say it’s only because it’s such a long time since I went in bed with someone. But I there’s no need for lies, I’m attracted to this man.
His fingers started moving in circles, massaging my clit just as I wanted. Placing his knee between my legs, giving himself more space for movements. I closed my eyes and moaned, once his finger enter me. Without any word his fingers started to move in and out, so slowly that it was painful. Loving every second of it.
Once again, he pulled me over, making me lie on my back, placing himself between my legs, pinning my hands over my head. No words could describe how I felt in that moment. This time I moved my head foreword and kissed him. I wanted more. He returned the kiss, and started grinding his lower part of body against me, making me feel his erection.
Whit every move he made, I wanted more and more.
When he let go of my hands, I immediately started touching his body, I wanted to feel his skin, his scars. The moan escaped his lips once I started kissing his neck. Not wasting any time, he pulled his whit shirt over his head and threw it across the room, giving me access to his well build chest. Without thinking twice, I started kissing his chest, the purple scars he had. His head was hanging low, breathing deeply.
His hand found it’s way to my throat, grabbing it harshly and pulling me up a little. ,, Time to undress you love’’ he said, his hand like a neckless around my throat.
Moving my ass up a bit, Dabi pulled my shorts and panties down, throwing them on the floor. When I was about to take my top off, he pushed me down smirking a little. Slowly playing with the lace on my right shoulder, he did something I didn’t expect. The blue flame appeared on his fingers, destroying the lace. First the right one, then the left one. His lit index finger went down over the material of my top, from my chest to my stomach, flaming it up just enough to destroy the material.
Once it was destroyed, Dabi pulled the rest of my top that was under me and also threw it across the room. Taking a good look of my naked body, he slowly went down, placing soft kisses over my stomach. The fact that I could feel his burnt skin too was taking me over the edge.
,,What if’’ he breathed out, still leaving wet kisses over my stomach and chest. ,, What if everyone knows to who you belong’’ he said, eyes looking up on me, trailing his finger around my stomach. His left hand holding my hip, making sure no movements were possible.
,,What do you mean?’’ I asked confused, not able to understand anything clearly anymore. There was no need for me to even think about it, because Dabi already made his decision to mark me as his. A loud scream escaped my mouth the moment I felt my skin getting burned.
His hand was still holding me firmly, but he immediately stopped what he was doing, and placed his hand over my mouth.
,,Relax, it will be over just in a minute’’ he said, kissing me deeply. He took the destroyed top and placed it between my lips. Making sure I was biting the destroyed piece of cloth, he slowly went down to finish what he started.
Making sure I won’t interrupt his work, he held my hands together firmly, while holding my legs with his weight down. Every move of his finger, burning my skin, was sending a wave of pain through my body. Closing my eyes, tears rolled down my cheek. Back aching up, screaming into the cloth in my mouth, nothing of it helped me calm down. But he was correct, it took him around minute to finish. Pulling the cloth out of my mouth, he kissed me.
,, Such a good girl’’ he said in between the kisses. Pulling my head up, I saw his name on my stomach. ,,Now everyone knows who you belong to’’ he added, leaving wet love bites all over my neck. From all the pain I felt when he was burning my skin down, everything after that felt like aftercare.
Dabi stood up, taking off his shorts and boxers before he climbed on top of me again. He kissed me once mere before he started rubbing his hard dick over my clit. He knew that I wanted more, but the he liked the fact that I was so desperate for him.
,, Dabi please’’ I moaned out, wanting him inside me already. Without any word or sign, he entered me roughly, not giving me any time do adjust to his size.
,,Of course I’ll give my good girl what she needs. You are too good tonight’’ He said kissing my nose, while my hands were grabbing the covers of his sheets to find my comfort in them.
He didn’t move for some minutes, leaving wet love marks over my chest. But once he was done, he slowly pulled his dick out so only his tip was inside of me. Then again, slammed it back inside. The harsh move, made me place my hands over his back, finding comfort there instead of the cold sheets.
He moved few times with the same method. Every time he would slam his dick back inside I wanted to dig my fingers inside his skin. But I was too afraid I would hurt his already burnt skin. I didn’t want to hurt him.
After he slammed too hard inside me, I accidentally dug my nails into his skin. It was probably not to hard, but still I caressed the place I thought I hurt and apologized to him.
,,You don’t have to worry about it love’’ he said stopping his movements. ,, My skin is already bruised, few new scars won’t hurt me’’ he added, giving me the permission to do what I want. Whit those words his movements started to speed up, making me throw my head back into the pillow and wrap my legs around him.
Dabi bit my shoulder, groaning into it, while he was getting faster and deeper with every move he made. Even tho I was still worried about his skin, I couldn’t help it, my nails were scratching it and digging into it enough to keep up with his moves.
,,I’m close’’ I moaned, while every thrust was bringing me closer to my orgasm. I didn’t have to repeat myself or wait, his hand found it’s way to my clit, rubbing it fast into circles. Which was enough for me to cum all over his dick while moaning his name out.
Without any word, Dabi turned me around on my stomach and entered me form behind once again. Holding my hips strongly while thrusting deep in and out of me. Being sensitive form my orgasm, with every thrust he did, my moans were louder.
,, Ass up’’ he said suddenly stopping his moves. Once I did what he told me, he grabbed my head and pushed it deep into the soft pillow and started to fuck me like there was no tomorrow. The sound of his skin slapping my own, the image of what was happening almost drove me close to my second orgasm.
My moans were huffed by the pillow, while Dabi was fucking me into the mattress.
,, Yess babe, cum for me again’’ He groaned into my ear, fucking me even harder.
,,So close’’ he moaned, touching my clit again and moving even faster and deeper if it was even possible. He didn’t have to touch me much, another orgasm was already hitting me hard.
,, Yess baby, so good’’ he moaned, while his dick started twitching inside of me. I felt his hot cum inside, closing my eyes, trying to catch my breath. Dabi didn’t stop, he tried to fuck his seed deep into me, until he thought it was enough.
Falling beside me, his arm over my back, breathing deeply into my neck. I wanted this moment to last forever.
His fingers trailing up and down my back slowly, while smoking a cigarette. The cold air coming form the opened balcony was a contrast to his hot fingers going up and down.
Once I noticed the cum that started to leak out, I stood up covering my body with the blanket, making my way to the bathroom to clean myself and wear another pajama.
When I finished, and changed. I found Dabi standing in the kitchen, already in his white shirt and his shorts for sleeping. Half of his cigarette was finished.
,, You coming back?’’ I asked.
,, Don’t you want to sleep alone ?’’ he asked turning taking one last smoke before placing the end of the cigarette under the water and throwing it away. I shook my head slowly, and made my way toward his room, hoping it’s enough for him to come back.
Once I buried my head into his pillow, I waited for him to follow me. But the steps were going to another direction, making me sigh deeply.
Shortly after that, at my surprise, Dabi appeared again. Holding some lotion in his hands. He sat beside me pulling the sheet down and my pajama dress up. Small smirk appearing over his lips at the sight of his name on my stomach.
Banding down, he kissed it few times before he applied the cold lotion all over it. Laying down beside me, he placed his arms around me and pulled me closer to him and hiding his face into my neck breathing my scent in.
With his presence and arms around me, it was the first night I could fall asleep peacefully not feeling scared of anything in this world.
Hope you liked it, too lazy to correct all the mistakes.
Also credit to the owner of the photo :)
Much loveeee
#dabi x y/n#dabi x reader#dabi imagine#bnha x reader#my hero academia#bnha imagines#dabi headcanons#yandere dabi x reader#yandere dabi#smut#dabi x oc#touya todoroki#touya x reader#touya x y/n#yandere touya#todoroki#dabi todoroki#bnha fanfiction#dabi smut#dabi fanfic#dabi is a todoroki
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set your world alight (m)
genre : fluff, smut, tiny lil bit of angst
pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)
word count : 24k (eye-)
warnings/content : mentions of bruises, mature language, long haired jaykay, awkwardness & cutesy overload, clumsy frustrating idiot(s), bratty reader, explicit sexual content (fingering, handjob, protected penetrative sex), HARRYPOTTER!AU (i cant believe i forgot to precise that in the teasers), jeon as charlie weasley, pretty much.
Jeon Jungkook is a mystery. Master of dragons. Long dark locks hiding a face most have never seen. Skin covered in scars. A brave, unpenetrable, curious being that you don’t know much about for, the very few times you’ve seen him in your life, you didn’t dare talk to him. Of course, you’d have the fatest crush on him.
“If we add roses instead of eucalyptus, wouldn't it turn into a love potion?”
You could have predicted it. If you were to have spent your evening scribbling the course that this morning, with the introducing of a new potion to your year 6 class, would take, solely based on intuition and experience, you would have gotten it right. Down to who's asking the question.
“No, it won’t.”
“Are you sure?”
Are you? After having spent your whole schooling career in Hogwarts, having studied the art of potion-making for five years filled with internships in the four corners of this Earth, in the greatest House of Potions there are, are you sure?
You could say all that. You could even tell to this annoying Gryffindor to shut the hell up because everyone, and you first, can’t stand to hear her voice anymore, interrupting constantly every lesson either with pointless questions or with obnoxious jabber.
But you don’t. Obviously, you don’t.
“For now, let’s just focus on learning what the actual recipe is. We’ll worry about interchanging ingredients later.”
Which is almost a lie. You won’t ever do that with them. You have your tight program, with a limited amount of recipes, that you’re supposed to go through with them. And creating new potions, or adapting already existing one to discover new effects are not on the plan. Not with Mrs Umbridge watching closely over every Hogwarts teachers' shoulders.
If they ever still find themselves obsessed with their dating life and enlarged pores once they'll be done with school, they will worry, on their very own, about creating the magic juices and ointments they need -given their lack of attention, investment and overall talent, you do sincerely hope they drop it because the results might lead to catastrophes but that's beside the point.
Miss Gryffindor sighs loudly. Turning slightly on her chair to roll her eyes to her friends, who snicker along, they’re whispering Merlin knows what about you and you’re just left there, trying to find your way back to the lesson without losing too much of your composure.
It doesn’t take you so much effort because unfortunately you are used to this. This class of Gryffindor is terrible. In your couple of years of teaching, you’ve never fallen upon a class filled with so many disinterested, awfully rude teenagers. Naively, when you just walked out of Hogwarts yourself almost ten years ago, when you were wondering with a certain dreadful desperation, what path to head for, you had finally chosen the teaching one, believing that by the time you’ll become a teacher, you’ll be old enough and teenagers would stop being scary by then, you might even grow a little fond of them, embodiment of a something long time gone, of nostalgia.
You were wrong. At twenty-six, you still feel like a barely done with teenagehood human, hardly an adult yet. The weapons you thought you’d gather along the way didn’t appear in your robe’s pockets as you thought they would.
Instead, you only have one, effective on an immediate use, but pretty useless on the long run: a monk’s patience.
You can ignore them. When they’re being so aggravating, you consider sometimes taking a hundred points away from their house -but you don’t because you’ll have to justify to the very biased Head of Gryffindor and fucking Umbridge-, you can ignore them. It’s the most effective way to react as it doesn’t feed them much, they just get annoyed with your unresponsiveness and decide to contain their disruption between themselves. The thing is, the steam has to blow some way, somehow. It’s fine when you can wake up early and spend an hour or so meditating, to gather all of your monk's potential, or if you ever have a Draught of Peace laying around, that can help too.
These days, it’s just harder to meditate, to try and keep your mind light, unbothered and calmly content.
So much harder that by the end of the class, only fifteen minutes left, you snap and end up taking off ten points from Gryffindors.
There’s a lot of whining, of strident eruptions of indignation, however, you’re smart enough to do it the moment you’re dismissing your class and they have to leave, sulking and hating you with a passion, for their next lesson.
“What have you done?” It’s Taehyung asking. He has a little alarmed look shading his abnormally handsome face, but a tiny little tremble of the corner of his mouth gives him away.
“Ten points.” You state with a bored raised of your eyebrows. What a bunch of babies.
“You suck. They’re going to hate me too, now.”
Which is not true. Immature profiles like them would tend to hate a teacher simply by association -it is to say that Taehyung is well known to be always stuck to your shoes, you grew up together anyway- but they would never Taehyung. He’s too handsome, has a voice way too sultry, too much charisma for anyone to hate him, especially his students. They can't stand his lessons though. He’s the worst option for a History of Magic teacher. He is passionate about his studies, really really passionate. Therefore his classes, in summarise, turn into him ranting non-stop, jumping from the main point to tiny insignificant streams made of pointless anecdotes that leave his students lost and confused, holes in their parchments, hands burning from their poor attempt at trying to take notes. His classes are Hell, made of boredom and confounding. The only upside being that he’s very nice to look at. He’s like an ancient mage stuck inside an elf body.
“Do you know how many times this year I’ve had to tell them that ‘no, this potion that has nothing to do with a love potion can’t be turned into one’? Why do I have to deal with their hormones all the time, seriously?”
“You mean, on top of yours?” It freezes you on the spot You could have heard that coming, with the big old ton-heavy boots. You don’t bother looking up from your papers you are reorganising. It’s pointless because you already know what you’d see. The smart ass’s shit-eating grin, singularly square at the edges, with the mischievous squinted eyes and subjective dance of the eyebrows.
“Shut up.”
“I can’t. I know you love talking about him since you don’t talk to him.”
The shame is burning the back of your neck. It’s climbing up your cheeks, taking over your ears in the process. If there’s one person who does wonders at not-making-you-feel-like-an-adult, it’s Kim Taehyung. Because of course he saw you grow up, and of course, he’s noticed that the timid, coward of a little Ravenclaw you used to be, hasn’t changed one bit.
“You’re so mean.”
“Am not too.” He giggles as he leaps from the front table he had been sitting on to your desk, where he takes a seat, not caring about your quill holder that he knocks down. “You’re never going to try?”
“I don’t know, Tae.”
“He doesn’t look mean. A bit gruff but I guess that’s what living like a wild creature surrounded by the wildest creatures makes you look like.”
You hum non-committally. You have come to the same conclusion already. But you hate the idea that you could be right because it gives you one less reason to not dare approach him. “He must be nice.”
“He must?” You cackle a bit. He doesn’t even sound so sure of this statement. Taehyung smiles along, shrugging with a tilt of his head.
“Well, I don’t know. But you have to talk to him. Soon he’ll be portkeying back to his Transylvania-“
“Romania.”
“-you won’t see him ever again. And also, seriously, it’s been like, what, three months since he’s back?”
“Actually, it’s been barely a month.” The idiot is pretending, with a grandiloquent theatrical performance, that he doesn’t believe you, that somehow you’re trying to deceive him. And it’s ridiculous because no matter how dramatic he always aims to be, no matter how long indeed this whole pinning over the pretty guy without having the courage to act on your feelings has been lasting, it still has not been three months. It’s been three weeks and four days, not that you're counting.
He arrived on a rainy Friday morning, you remember it well because the wet weather agitated the frogs an awful lot and you ended up spending your ten minutes of break between two classes, on all fours, crawling along the hallways of Hogwarts to try and retrieve three escapees.
A real joy.
Especially when he appeared at the end of the hallway. Soaked to the bones but not seemingly caring, as opposed to Mr Filch who seemed even angrier than he usually does. You barely recognised him, from so far, looking up from the ground, with the hood of his heavy coat low above his eyes, nothing peculiar in his appearance that would give him away, not a word uttered that could have helped. Until he turned the corner of the hallway, and the emblem of this foreign school of wizardry appeared. With the purple embroidery contouring the white seagull, it just clicked. You remembered the rumours spreading wildly, excitedly around the castle, that despite the very vindicative Mrs Umbridge's opinion, dragons would be introduced this year to the course of Care for the Magical Creatures and real dragons, seen by their master, would be flying to you and inhabit the grounds of Hogwarts for this semester.
And of course, it would be him. With his impressive resume, or that unauthorised biography written about him by that one stingy journalist singing his lauds that you could read anywhere -there was even a version, presented as fiction, that’s been published in the muggle world- and also, his first and last visit to Hogwarts, two years ago, for the Triwizard Tournament when he proved his talent and bravery in front of all by forcefully regaining control over a Horntail that was just about to chew a few students’ heads off after having eluded his chains -and conveniently, it's also the same time when you fell head over heels for the stranger.
It was ridiculous because you never talked to the guy. But two years later, just his silhouette and the bouncing of his heavy head of curls you have to come to the shameful acknowledgement that your heart hasn’t gotten over the crush.
It’s ridiculous.
It precisely why you shouldn’t have talked about it to anyone. It’s just too hard to keep anything from Kim Taehyung though. Even if your life would have been so much easier if you’d only have to listen to your own nagging about this and not his.
“You’re going to end up as a crazy old spinster if you keep acting like that.”
“And you’re going to be late for your class if you keep on bothering me.”
“I don’t have a class.” Taehyung stares, dubiously. Now that you don’t have to face head-on your shame, attention slightly steered away from your useless self, you can stare back, glare even, as you challenge him with a raised eyebrow.
“You do.”
You relish in the sickly white suddenly brushing all over his face. He curses under his breath, grabbing his briefcase with one of his gigantic hands, before he’s flying out of your classroom.
Quite frankly, you’re not sure if he does have a class at the moment. You do know for a fact that he doesn’t know either because strangely enough, for a teacher whose whole subject depends on memory and a good one at that, he’s never been able to memorise his planning.
An easy escape you’ve come up with.
Everyone needs those.
Especially whoever’s having their ears talked off by the crazy old howl, Umbridge, down the corridor. You can hear her from your room, even with the door almost shut close. Her whole monologue is hard to decipher. You do hear that it has something to do with “her disapproval” and someone else's “irresponsibility” and “pure lunacy”.
By curiosity, you lean your head through the thin entrance your door is offering, picking discreetly to see who the victim is.
It's the guy. Jeon Jungkook. Standing with his feet pointing away from Umbridge, hands tucked deep in the pockets of a thick winter vest, you can’t see half of his face because of his hair, as always sitting low down his forehead, but you can tell from the thin line of his mouth, his tensed shoulders and something else, maybe his aura, so loudly screeching annoyance, that he's not having a good time.
It’s him. And for some reason, for the first time ever, you recall words Taehyung has said to you, loud and clear and pressing and inspiring. You don’t want to become a “crazy old spinster”. Therefore you decide to become a crazy something else you don’t bother to identify right this second.
“Oh, Mrs Umbridge!”
“Miss ___, as you can see, I am already-“
“Oh!” The loud gasp, hand clasping on your gaping mouth, wide eyes completing the look. You can’t find the courage to turn to him to reinforce -in case it wasn’t clear enough- that you just, now that she mentioned it, realise the man was here.
Mrs Umbridge has this quality to her. You find her so awfully ridiculous that you turn yourself in a clown, subtly mocking her -though you don’t think she fathoms it since you’ve always acted this way around her- each time you share any kind of conversation.
It can work and you can go along with your usual antics only if you forget the obnoxiously troubling presence of the dragon master.
“I am so deeply embarrassed, I didn’t realise. I’m not wearing my glasses, I’m an incorrigible mole without them.”
“Is that so?” From above the frame of her pink glasses, her beady eyes scrutinize. “You should wear them on your nose then, Miss ___. Now, if you will-“
“I’m sorry, I needed- It’s very important.” You cut her off with such speed and enthusiasm, you know she can't shut you off. “After discussing with my students about the program, I thought about something. Maybe I could introduce a new-“
“Miss ___!” She screeches, the triggering words -”introduce” and “new”- having hit perfectly right. “The program, as you owe to know, has been carefully crafted by the great Minister for Magic and doesn’t need for an airheaded little teacher like you to add any changes to it.”
“Oh yes, of course, how could I forget?”
“It is bad enough as it is that this foolish Hagrid has been able to convince my confreres of bringing a useless study on the most dangerous creatures there is-“ She pointedly glare from the corner of her eyes to the man who remains silent and immobile. His hands haven’t moved from the depth of his pockets, you can’t see his eyes even up close, because the curtain of dark curls hiding them is even thicker than it looked like from the other end of the hallway. He doesn’t seem particularly bothered. You wonder if he’s even listening. Barely swinging on his long legs, waiting for his presence to be dismissed it seems.
“Dragons are quite interesting creatures. I suppose that’s why they were added to the program. The Ministry for Magic must have thought so too since they voted...”
She gnarls at that. She tries to be discreet, conceals a bit of her spite but there’s no doubt in your mind that her mouth's just filled up with a distasteful repellent aftertaste.
Since the main goal was to distract her from him and free him from her claws, you start again with the suggestions for a revised scholar program. Her cheeks grow pinker than her jacket, her eyes start reflecting a fire alike the ones from Hell, her usually perfectly well-combed hair releases a few angry frizzes. She’s beyond herself and without letting you finish your little act, she’s going over all the things that are so wrong about you, about Hogwarts teachers in general, about young people and their disrespectful tendency to want to add their little spice to every tea.
You take the nagging like a champ. Because you’re used to it and to be perfectly fair, you’ve mastered a certain state of meditation whenever she’s coming your way with some complaining.
None of her words successfully reach you to stick around.
She holds strong for a good, fat fifteen minutes. At some point, you even worry that this time, her pit of nonsensical arguments won’t ever show a bottom. Until it does.
She looks all dishevelled from her heated argument. The hair worsened, with now drops of perspiration shining on her forehead. The mean beady eyes are dull, exhausted from the fight as she contemplates the void between you and the man. With a last dismissive wave of her hand, she leaves, stumbling on top of her lacquered Fuschia heels.
How can someone work themselves up so badly with so little provocation -and no further response too?
It leaves you alone with the dragon master and only now, even though you had plenty of time to take in this present, you realise how inconvenient for your coward self the predicament is. You are meant to talk to him now, aren’t you?
Maybe the same question raises in his mind however he certainly doesn’t reach the same conclusion. Deeming it unnecessary, he turns his back to you and heads down the hall without much of a look spared to you. Maybe he did check, through or maybe under the impenetrable curtain of hair, for the identity of the idiot that thought he needed help to escape the annoying old owl but you wouldn’t know.
Watching in pure despair, your heart prickling uncomfortably in your bosom, you wonder if you somehow upset him. He did look irked from what you could tell. Anyone else, anyone less grumpy, anyone feeling anything but discomfort or discontent would have said something, wouldn’t they?
That’s what you explain to Kim Taehyung. Emphasising on the fact that you did try to approach the guy. You did. You created the situation, you faced him fully, you did miss the moment when you were probably supposed to say something to him but he left, too soon, and clearly is not interested in getting to know you, and whatever, you’re fine with that you just want your friend to note and remember for later reference that you did try this time.
Taehyung who’s never keen on trusting your words, no matter the fact that you’ve never lied to him -or maybe just a few times so he would leave you alone, but nothing major really- decides that you are wrong. That somehow you misinterpreted the whole thing and surely you need to hop back on the horse and try, again, maybe this time more vindictively.
It takes quite a couple of days for him to convince you. You’re not sure how. It might be from exhaustion, it might come from those three too many butterbeers you drank even though you didn’t remember ordering, back when you were gloomily celebrating your never-ending celibacy in Jjang Jjang -the magical bar held by your friend, Min Yoongi, in the far end of Hogsmead.
You promise that if an opportunity appears to be showing the very tip of its nose, if the universe is kind -and delusional- enough to gift you another chance, then you would try.
It’s funny how the laws of attraction work. Or rather, probably more accurately, it’s funny how Taehyung can be so shameless and volunteer when he has his mind set on something. He has no problem manipulating people and situations as if the universe is his and he decides whatever happens to the little pawns inhabiting it.
A week later, when he, the dragon master, is the curious apparition manifesting itself in front of you when you open the door to let your class free, it doesn’t fall into place right away.
It’s a strange coincidence. Maybe he messed up and meant to find another classroom, any other classroom but yours. He doesn’t budge when he sees you, doesn’t seem startled by your presence. He only takes a step to the side once he realises that a wave of hurried teenagers is about to swarm him in their way out.
“Miss, are we still going to study this potion next time or will we move to something more interesting?” It’s that same Gryffindor. The same as usual. She’s just made of attitudes, eye rolls, hand on the hip and all.
“Once you’ll be able to make it without cooking a hole in your cauldron, we’ll be starting with a new one.”
You’re snarkier than usual, there’s no denying that. It’s your fifth class of the day, everyone seems to have signed an agreement on messing with your patience and he’s here, hearing and seeing an umpteenth attempt to humiliate you from this kid and you’re not having it right now, not today. She grows red on the cheeks, eyebrows frowning dangerously low, they might fall from her face when she barks, “I told you the hole was already there!”
“I understand. Next time, I’ll lend you my old cauldron so there won’t be any issue, alright?”
The angry wands she owns for eyes shoot you a good dozen of curses and she departs, with her friends, as angry as ever.
There’s a heavy silence, setting around you both, engulfing you. The wood of the walls, dark and cold, make it old the more uncomfortable until you can not take it anymore. You’re about to mumble something, maybe point out the end of the hall and suggest he tries there, to find whatever or whoever he is looking for. He beats you to it. Having reached the very limit of handling this silence at the same time as you do.
“Good morning.” He starts, clearing his throat. A husky, quiet yet somehow soft voice that he doesn’t seem to have used quite often. “Here’s the stuff for your potions.”
He holds out a strong hand to you, all veiny and sparkled with tiny bruises, a dark bag made of linen held in his fist. If he can see you, he can undoubtedly take in your confusion. You have no idea what “the stuff” is. If it’s a badly expressed thought. If he meant to say, “some stuff” for your potions. Because you’ve never asked for anything from anyone for your potions -even though, the thought crossed your mind that he, with his magical pets, must have some fantastic ingredients for your searches. You don’t know if it just comes from him. If he thought you may need it and generously prepared this for you -you doubt that one highly. The other reason, way more evident, quite obnoxiously obvious actually, that doesn’t reach your brain which is only working at a quarter of its habitual capacity given his standing here, and his smelling like woods and smoky and something subtler, you can’t pinpoint but feel addicted to as soon as it reaches your nostrils, is that someone -Taehyung- must have put him up for it. He must have gone behind your back, mumble some basic potion ingredients knowledge he owns to him and asked him to bring it to you.
“I put my Norvegian Ridgeback's scales in a separate bag because they’re very sharp -and poisonous too- so be careful when you open it.” He’s done talking, he clears his throat again, this time you’re pretty sure it’s out of discomfort as your gaping silently like a dumb fish must not be the easiest response to receive. A little inviting shake of his fist brings you to your senses, and you reach forward to grab the present. Your arm drops down from the surprising weight of the thing, fortunately, as if he expected it, he catches you before you topple over, a hand on your shoulder and the other encasing yours holding the bag, squeezing around your own as he lifts some of the weight up.
“Sorry, I didn’t expect it to be this heavy.” because you carried it like it was filled with dragons feathers instead -you mean to add.
“It’s fine.” He simply mumbles. You add your free hand to cup the underside of the thing, pressing the whole to your bosom and he lets go there, letting you step inside your room to find a place on a shelf to put it away. You probably take a second to long, your back facing him, as you stand staring at your new possession. It’s the heat remaining on the back of your hand that troubles you. As if not only have his pets decorated the top of his skin with scratches and bruises, they’ve sighed enough fire in his palms for them to forever feel this warm. And he touched you so naturally so. Pressing his large hand around yours that seemed so tiny in comparison. Probably without even acknowledging it while you are shook to your core.
This added to your confusion born from his surprise apparition, are the reasons why, as I said, your brain doesn’t reach its full capacity. Still, the idea that Taehyung is behind it all, that it can’t solely come from this man here, just won’t do in your idiotic head.
You’re enamoured, even more than before, just by a touch and by the gentleness his words hold under the tougher surface. And you decide, that if you turn around and he’s still standing there you’ll ask him out.
You do so, spiralling in slow motion, filled with apprehension. He’s here. His hands back inside the pockets of his jacket, the shadow of a sparkle coming from his eyes, under the heavy protection he’s wearing in front of them.
“Jeon Jungkook?”
He’s startled at the call of his name, the top of his mop of hair bouncing slightly and you just find it adorable. Maybe he didn’t expect you to know his name, he must not even know yours. Of course, he could not have expected that you had spent way too long, two years ago, back when he came to Hogwarts for the first time and you had heard his name amid a conversation, trying it out for yourself. Not to wear it out but repeating his name to yourself, appreciating the way the syllabus formed, how they felt so well chosen for each other’s, for him, and the feeling, light heading, that it gave you to pronounce it.
“Would you like to have a drink with me? On Fridays, I like to go to my friend's bar in Hogsmead and I was wondering, maybe you’d like to come?”
More clearing of the throat. It’s stalling the delivery of his answer, you hate it and almost jump to your cooking station to sort out a quick remedy for it. Your heart is beating so furiously, you might pass out and he’s just taking his sweet time to answer. You feel the awkwardness. You don’t see it. You can’t see anything, the bottom of his face not telling any secrets on his feelings. You must look terrifying, red anywhere it’s possible for you to blush, sweating and fidgety like you’re on a Girding Potion bad trip. And he doesn’t show anything. You’d rip the hair out of his eyes if only you could.
There’s only one telling sign that manifests in the form of his hand, slipping out of his pocket to reach for the back of his neck where it scratches for a bit.
It’s no. It must be a “no, I’m absolutely not interested and this moment is very awkward”.
“I have my dragons to exercise. Sorry.”
“Oh. It’s ok.” It is not.
You hope, with all your might, that he doesn’t notice how upset you are. Through your prickling eyes, through the trembling pout you try to hide behind a casual smile.
It is terribly not ok but fortunately, he doesn’t stick around. That’s probably the thing you’re the most thankful for at this moment, his laconic tendencies. Anyone else may have tried to say something else to make you feel better, to make you feel like the rejection isn't worth throwing you off one of Hogwarts high tour. Instead, he just quits, swiftly. Leaving you alone to compose yourself back enough to handle your very last class of the day. You manage to feel fine, sort of numbed out for long enough until you don’t have to pretend anymore and you can let all the emotions out.
Bent over on the wooden tabletop of Yoongi’s bar, you’re crying out your whole soul, face laid in a pool of your own tears, a gentle hand petting awkwardly the top of your head.
“I hate you Taehyung!” It hardly comes out, half mumbled, half coughed out. The hand on your hair still in the air for a second so he must have got the jest of it until it resumes to its previous activity.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t think he’d reject you.” He sighs deeply. “I didn’t even think you’d ask him out!”
“Yeah, what’s up with that?” You rise from the depth of your despair, hidden in the centre of your crossed arms. Yoongi looks extremely distraught. Your face looks awful, you know. But seeing him this shaken upsets you even more. You feel mad and vengeful and you’d like to flood his shitty bar with your tears to teach him a lesson -you’re not sure which, maybe: don’t look so disgusted when your friends look indeed disgusting, that’s mean- but the realisation downs on you that you cried so much you don’t have any tears left. Just the rashness around your eyes and nose, no snot left because Yoongi had maternally cleaned it for you, tiny pathetic sniffling around nothing but heartbreak now.
“He sent him to me!” You bark, punching Taehyung in the shoulder, not caring the least that half of his drink gets spilt everywhere.
“You didn’t have to just ask him out! You could have just, I don’t know (he pretends to think deeply, the tip of his fingers tapping lightly his chin), talk to him! Like a normal person that’s never spoken to him would have done.”
You gasp, eyes burning with fire. “Yoongi, he called me a freak!”
“When have I ever-“
“Normal people, my ass!” You continue, sort of having a lone conversation parallel to theirs. “What do you know about normal people, you fucking Grindylow.” You swallow down your fourth butterbeer, one furious finger indicating Yoongi that you need another one. Taehyung is just rolling his eyes, not taking offence of the nonsensical insult. “I hate you so much, Merlin, how am I supposed to face him again?”
“You do like everyone else’s does. Just start hating him until you don’t care anymore.”
“People do that?” Yoongi asks curiously. He’s slid you a new pint, filled to the brim.
“I know I do.” You slap the back of his arm there, without giving him any explanation, just because you’re sure he’s bullshitting you -the guy surely never has been rejected.
“Doesn’t matter. How could I ever hate him anyway?” A lone survivor tear falls from your lashes into the calm, quiet amber lake topping your glass. It doesn’t hit you there that there’s no foam. Yoongi watches you carefully, one of his hand is patting your forearm.
“Is he really that great?” Taehyung just shrugs. He’s such a dimwit. You nod, heart growing big with sadness before it breathes it out, turning into a tiny, squeezed on itself pained creature. You leave the conversation then. Simply trying to rest with your hurting bosom. It needs nurturing and a benevolent yet firm healing hand to tell it to rest for a bit, and stop overreacting.
[“What's he like?” Yoongi asks directly to Taehyung as he can see, clearly, that you’re not here anymore, for now.
“He’s... uh...” Taehyung starts with very flimsy conviction. “He’s into dragons.” More shrugging.]
Honestly, you might be exaggerating. You do not know much about him. Most of what you believe to know, assumed by what little you do know about him. You believe he is nice and sensible, from the way he treats his animals and the way they treat him.
[“Oh. Holy Dumbledore!”
“Stop saying that! I told you it’s fucking disrespectful.”]
You’ve seen how much respect and trust lay between them. It’s blatant. And to create this kind of relationship with some of the fiercest creatures in the magical world, he must be something else, something exceptional.
[“It’s him. It’s fucking him!”]
And you read about him, a lot, the two books he wrote solely about his creatures. They don’t directly tell much about him but indirectly, they hint his humility and humbleness. It’s not like that stupid Gilderoy Lockhart and his autobiographies on magical creatures. And there are the numerous articles that were written about him and his exploits and alleged character.
[“You’re lying.”
“I’m not!”
Sharp short nails are jabbing annoyingly in the skin of your forearm. It’s Taehyung, of course, he never stops bugging you. It’s his second passion after the soporific subject he’s decided to teach. You close your eyes, frowning a bit because he won’t stop, trying to annihilate him from your existence, to annihilate yourself from it too.]
Simple, humble, smart and strong. Passionate, sensible and a beautiful set of thick dark locks you want to slip your fingers through as the cherry on top.
“It’s apple juice!” You screech in disgust, pushing your fake butterbeer far away from you. The hocus-pocus, if it irritates you, at least brings you back to earth, and back to the noisy bar. Min Yoongi mouths something about you having drunk enough but his attention is elsewhere, along with Taehyung's.
“Oh, Merlin's beard.”
Of course, he would be there. He’s been back to Hogwarts for over a month now, you’ve never seen him around here, but of course, the day he rejects you, he has to come to your retreat, and witness the mess he's made of you. What kind of sick joke from the stars is that?
“Holy shit. Isn’t he a bit much for you?”
You know exactly what the barman means. It makes you blush slightly under the tipsy flushing already adorning your cheeks.
If Jeon Jungkook may or may not be made of all the qualities you’ve named for him -with or without reasons-, he has some very visible, very obnoxious other qualities to him. Qualities that you’re not proud of pining over because it makes you feel shallow and superficial. The expression on Yoongi's face makes it feel better though. Justified. As if, well, here they are, you can’t deny it. And since you like his imaginary personality, you might as well like the body imaginarily hosting it.
Jeon Jungkook is tall as a tree and as strong as one. It’s hard to tell, from here, with the layers of clothes he’s wearing on his back to protect himself from the cold, to what extent he fills them but it’s obvious he’s broad, wide. He walks with strong determined steps, with his fists tight to his sides, as tight as his jaw, square, sharp.
He’s big. Both in appearance and aura and you can understand how Yoongi wonders if he’s not “a bit much” for you.
“Don’t call him over!” You whisper-yell, digging your nails in the tender skin of Taehyung’s forearm. He whines, curses and tries to let himself free while telling you that of course, he’s not that dumb, he won’t. He doesn’t need to, anyway, because the guy, after seemingly exploring with his gaze the bar, sets his aim on your table, slowly starting to make his way towards you.
“He’s coming.” Taehyung mumbles, bewildered.
You are too. Could it be you misunderstood earlier when he said he couldn’t come because he’d be “exercising his dragons”? It can’t possibly be true. You don’t even know what the heck is up with this excuse. Because it can’t have been anything more than an excuse. Since when do dragons need to be exercised and by a wizard at that?
And now he is here.
Literally, he’s standing right in front of your table, a hand reaching for the back of the empty chair, next to yours, but stops mid-track and backs away to his side.
“Hi. Do you mind if I sit here ?”
You can feel, physically, the two heavy heads of your friends, turning slowly on their necks towards you, like an idiotic audience, not wanting to miss one beat of the drama playing for them.
There’s a little snappy answer that rises to the back of your throat. Something inspired by what Taehyung said earlier, about hating him. You almost tell him aloud that he can do whatever he wants, that you don’t own this fucking chair.
Jeon Jungkook is still raspy but soft voice. With his bruised hand with the fingers red from the cold, not assertive and confident enough to dare grab the chair yet and you can’t do much but nod your head, swiftly sliding your own chair to the side to draw a little distance between you.
It takes forever for the initial tension to drop a little bit. You can’t say anything, Taehyung the chatterbox can’t either, Jungkook probably feels too awkward by your behaviours to find a casual way to start the conversation. It’s Yoongi who realises the successful start. By doing what he does best, serving your new guest the best butterbeer there is in Hogsmead (Yoongi would say that it’s the best in the world, both magical and muggle, but given he hasn’t stepped two feet outside of this village for the past two decades, you wouldn’t give him that).
“My name’s Jungkook, by the way.” He starts quietly, in the direction of Yoongi. The latter nods and smiles a bit too eagerly. He tries to be natural, you can tell. And fail miserably, you must add.
“I’m Min Yoongi. Welcome to Jjang Jjang!” Taehyung cringes visibly. Yoongi leans further, towards yours and Jungkooks side of the table, wanting to ignore at best the unhelpful clown beside him. “You must already know...” With a vague hand gesture, he points Taehyung and you. It makes you want to die, the idea that he knows your name, he knows you. You’re unsure what’s going on. Why he’s here, where this will lead. But it would all feel infinitely better if you knew that somehow, he didn’t know anything about you. It’s hard to remember people without their name. It’s the first thing you learn about someone, really, like a tag they’re wearing on their foreheads and when recalling about them, ever, consciously or not, the name comes always. He knows yours so he won't forget you.
It takes all of you a short eternity to warm up to each other. The bar is still noisy, with its occasional rough burst of laughter from the tough-looking wizards, maybe missionaries, the high giggles of a group of Hogwarts 7th year students hidden in a corner. You’re all nurturing your drinks, even you with your stupid apple juice and the unease is even louder, the silence deafening in the middle of the concert of voices and shatters of glasses.
Until Taehyung says something weird, “So you like dragons, uh?” You don't understand why he persists on making it sound weird, like he's romantically interested in them.
You hit him under the table, a good kick to the kneecap but it’s clear to everyone that his yelp comes from you. That makes Jungkook laughs.
He pretty much giggles, sounding like a boy, head tilted down forward with his locks sadly hiding his smile.
“Yeah, you could say that.” He finally answers, clearing his throat, words coming out sweet and sheepish-like, as if he’s embarrassed from having been caught laughing.
“Oh, that explains this.” Yoongi says, pointing at his skin and the numerous bruises orning it. You’ve never hit Min Yoongi because 1) he’s older than you, 2) he’s a tiny little thing that you’re scared to hurt but you are this close, the width of a hair away, from throwing your foot up again and hit him in the junk. For a second, Jungkook seems awkward. Staring himself at his hands, one sliding over the other, the tip of his thumb grazing with insistence on a deep scar. Until he raises his head again, you assume to let his eyes go over your faces, studying them silently and something he sees there, maybe innocent benevolence -even if Yoongi's comment was lowkey inappropriate, he didn’t mean any ill- and something else, childish excitement probably suffice to relax him. Letting his hands be, one wrap around his pint, the other flat on the tabletop, tip of his fingers drumming quietly every now and then, out in the open for anyone who'd like to to see.
“They tend to be a bit playful.” He says this with a sly smile raising the corner of his mouth. Something ridiculously sexy that makes you choke on your fake beer and back away from him even more. You shouldn’t raise an arm to plant your elbow into the table, as a sort of shield between you two, because it’s rude and lame, but you do it anyway. Because it’s all a lot.
He's a lot.
Yoongi, probably, knows you better than you could ever imagine. Seeing right through you, added to the statement he raised earlier -and maybe he was right, maybe he's a whole lot, and a whole lot too much for you-, he reconsiders forbidding you from consuming any more alcohol. Kindly, he manifests a glass of sparkling juice, right in front of you. It's a light peach colour, from the first sniff of the aroma, you can tell it won't knock you unconscious any time soon. It's more sugar than alcohol but at least, it succeeds to soothe the harsh edges of your nerves. Because your nerves are on the verge of a fucking spontaneous combustion.
"Hey! Why does she get another one?" Since earlier, Taehyung, too, has been switched to a strictly non-alcoholic beverages diet. He's not happy about it but you understand easily Yoongi's train of thought. You need to relax so you deserve a little something -especially given the fact that Jeon Jungkook's appearance had you almost entirely sobered up-, while Taehyung's stupid mouth is way too loose and needs to be fed something soft and safe.
"Because he likes me and he hates you." You mutter, not daring to look up from your glass by fear of coming across your neighbour's attention. Your comment is well received though. You allow yourself to joke like that because everyone, Taehyung included, knows that Kim Taehyung is everyone's favourite. No matter the competition. No one can hate him, even when he's boring as hell, even when he's too loud, too nosy, dumb or annoying. He knows it as well as you do and each time you throw one of these snarky taunts, a glint of amusement sparkles his almond eyes and he loves to act all hurt and offended.
He turns all gasps and bombastic hand movements, claiming unfairness, misery. You start nagging back at him, adding more about how dumb he sounds and stupid he looks, while he counteracts with more dramatic appalled cries, as Yoongi just shrinks onto himself, shaking his head in disconcertment -even though, he's too used to your antics to be any surprised nor confused.
You're so caught up in your childish bickerings that slowly, only you two, and the amusement you're trying to contain in your stomach, matter and exist. Jeon Jungkook disappearing entirely. It has your voice turn louder, mimicking Taehyung's, your insults getting bolder, your face raises as you squint your eyes menacingly at your friend.
It's once Taehyung grabs the wand from his pocket and aims it at you, threatening to turn you into a pile of ghoul's shit if you won't shut up, that he's reminded to you.
The giggles, like earlier. Boyish and rusty, uncommon, that can only be his, ring and bless your right ear. It has you shut up instantly. Startled, you stare at him, only for a soft smile to grow on your lips, fond as you are to see him laugh like that, because of you.
You must look stupid as your eyes jump to Taehyung, silently begging him to acknowledge the wonder taking place just next to you, too giddy, too excited, too blushy to be part of it. He just grins back at you, nods his head even though you're not exactly sure at what, one of his elbows poking Yoongi's side.
"How long have you two been friends ?" He asks once he's managed to calm down his fit with a bite on his lower lip. Your heart is running a marathon and you're not sure for how long it'll keep holding up, you might need to focus all of your energy on the course, on not breaking a leg or pass out in the middle of the run, but you refuse, because he's talked to you again, because your best friends are accessorily here to help out, ease a bit of the burden of having to face the terrifying idea of being rejected (again), of failing at being good enough, somehow, to a guy you don't know much but like a lot.
Therefore you answer, aiming a joking dark glare at Taehyung because it helps to look at him, "Too long." Jungkook sniggers at the answer as Taehyung slips his ugly tongue out to you.
Somehow the tension diffuses itself. As if now that all of you had placed a word in the conversation, played somehow a role in it, it feels better, the ice has been melted and you can all, finally, relax.
Without even realising, your elbow slips from the tabletop, you're still wary, still very much aware of him sitting so close to you but you're fine with it.
As the drinks, more or less loaded, flow, Jungkook's cheeks fill up with mountains upon mountains of the fried wonders Jjang Jjang's beloved house-elf, Seokjin, has to offer, the discussion runs smoothly, tongues untied and excited.
It starts with Taehyung telling a very inaccurate version of your first meeting and blooming of this decades-old friendship (you add now and then, when the exaggerations and blatant lies get too much, little modifications to the tale that have Jungkook snigger and nod his head discreetly to you in secret confidence). It continues with Jungkook, pressured by a very adamant audience (which you are not part of, even if you are probably the most interested in the topic, in any topic that would have him speak a bit more, you don't want to bother him with your curiosity which Taehyung and Yoongi do not seem the least disturbed about) telling about the couple of last years he'd spent all around the world, in the most secluded corners of Earth, where only dangerous creatures like his beloved pets live and where only the foolhardiest or most suicidal wizards dare to adventure. As you expected, he's quite humble about it. He doesn't insist on details that make your heads spin in bewilderment, shrugging his shoulders lightly when you're the one whisper-yelling that "but you could've died?!". After a lot of cooing, from all angles of the table, tiny whispers repeating some of his words like a strange echo as you all try to handle the admiration -and intoxication-, he starts feeling himself, a tiny, discreet but visible smile, slyly redrawing the corner of his mouth. He shrugs a little less, nods his head firmly a little more, voice louder and more confident, shaping in the full form it's able to take.
He sounds lovely when he doesn't care anymore. When he feels unrestrained, comfortable and easy-going. He laughs a lot, you notice. It colours almost every single one of yours and your friends' comments, and maybe the fact that you're all a bit dumbed by shock and interest and starstruck and tipsiness makes it so that they're pretty ridiculous, hence him laughing so much. It's not so much that you're all hilarious, rather than you all being pretty stupid but it doesn't matter. You note how easy his laughter, that you couldn't even picture before hearing it for yourself, can come out. How open he is to meddle with you.
He fits so well in your bubble. This personal place only Taehyung and Yoongi have ever been authorized to inhabit. He matches perfectly. It fills your heart and mind with so much content, you feel your cheeks hurt from smiling constantly without meaning too. It's what he does, you suppose, making you smile. And when you notice the pink tint colouring his cheeks, rounded out lovingly so by a grin, you assume he's feeling the same, enjoying his time with all of you, your heart dips in the warmest bath.
"Dude!" For the umpteenth time, he's trying to wave himself some air with a hand. Taehyung has had enough and just slammed his fist to the table, making everything on it knock against each other, Yoongi's eyes this close to falling out of their sockets. Jungkook just giggles some more, he might be a bit tipsy. "Just tie your hair up, you're making me sweat just looking at your mop!"
"I don't even have-" Taehyung's already up from his chair, he bumps his leg in the process but pay it no attention, marching over his future victim with a little hair-tie that seemed to appear from thin air -probably did too. Jungkook is so lenient with your best friend, too lenient you'd say, you wouldn't even have it in you. When he excitedly reaches forward, his long fingers parting the dark locks in two, he's trying to tie one end into a little side ponytail. Before he's even done with the first one, you roll your eyes, knowing what he's aiming for. Of course, he wouldn't just give him a regular manbun or something.
For the first time, you meet one of Jungkook's eyes, the one uncovered thanks to Taehyung's shenanigan. It's round, dark but warm like rich chocolate, sparkling with exhilaration but concerned.
"What's he doing?" He asks you, unbeknownst to the fact that meeting half of his face for the first time, the endearing pretty thing, stole every single little last word from you. With two fists hold to the side of your head, you attempt to show him the cute girly hairstyle Taehyung has in mind. He winces at that, nose scrunching into itself so high, the round thing turns into something adorable, shaking his head to try to free himself from your friend's prying hands, a grin still on his lips.
"Stop being such a baby!" Taehyung growls, trying for a little while to keep ongoing, his hand desperately holding onto the second bunch of hair. He's soon forced to stop as the victim turns to be too unwilling. "Ok fine! You do it then!"
It's you he is barking to. If the hair tie thrown straight in your eye is any teller. It renders you blind for a second. Until you can blink the stingy discomfort away and you’re greeted by Jungkook and his endearing face with the oh so adorable tiny tail hanging from the side of his head, observing you with great attention, single eye blinking worrisome. He looks cute, half dolled up like a girl, fearful and curious to discover how you’ll treat him. For a second, you are tempted to follow your friend's design. Because how cute would this man look with two ponytails hanging on top of his head, with maybe even tiny hair clips to perfect it all.
He’d be pissed though and wouldn’t keep it probably so what’s the point.
The real point is that you have a hair tie in your hand, fingers itching on instinct to play with the shiny raven locks and the owner of said pretty locks, silently permitting you to do just that.
Maybe Taehyung is not as dumb and as useless as you thought him to be. Your prior reflex would be to assume he didn’t even mean to create this opportunity for you. He’s just invading as a person, touchy-feely and very comfortable with anyone entering his vicinity. You do owe him more credits and you willingly give them to him for this time. Because if he didn’t intend to put your foot on the stirrup, he surely did anyway, with a natural and a smoothness you couldn’t imagine coming from him.
Standing behind Jungkook's chair, hands hovering centimetres away, you feel so blessed, you’d jump over to Taehyung's side to snug him to your fervent heart if you didn’t have better at hand -and if the idea of actually having him this close to you did not fill you with an immense cringe.
Taehyung is watching, over the rim of his glass, with an obnoxious, kid like excited sparks burning you uncomfortably. You curse him out, soundlessly but with such great articulation, he can’t possibly miss the words.
Yoongi who watches all of it notices and understands it all as he always does even when he pretends he doesn’t, starts talking then. Something about Brazil where Jungkook had spent nine months, living alone in the wild forest of Amazonia, and about the curious plants and fruits he heard that could be found there. It’s a nice distraction. Soon Jungkook is on it again, Taehyung partakes a role in it too, leaving you alone to handle the grandiose yet terrifying fantasy that is touching and messing with Jungkook's hair.
The first ponytail comes undone easily, the hair tie simply slipping off with just the tip of your fingers to guide it.
When you timidly start, reaching with two hands to grab all of the hair from him, you feel a rush of blood to your cheeks, heart skipping beats and perspiration bubbling at your temple. Your fingers just have to graze slightly the skin of his neck, all warm and soft, you have to do it a few times even because his pretty locks are rebellious and your fingers too willing to let them run in between them, silky as they are.
There’s a strand refusing your gentle taming, slipping from your grasp and falling in front of his eye. You go to catch it back, meeting hot fingers on his temples. Yours surrender immediately. Jungkook from the corner of his eye, over his shoulder, throw you a glance and a smile. A small one, small but fond.
"Doesn't it get lonely?" Yoongi asks as Jungkook tucks the strand behind his ear.
"Not really. I'm used to it." He shrugs. You take your sweet, sweet time to finish the half-bun, half-tail hairdo you're working on. Somehow something lovely has settled. Something comfortable, domestic. He's not wary of your touch, letting you mess with his hair, not even flinching when, tentatively, just taking a chance, just once, the pad of your thumb stroke the hot skin of his neck. "Dragons can be very affectionate-" That makes Taehyung cackles as Yoongi gasps in disbelief. You have a hard time picturing those creatures as affectionate. Jungkook is different anyway. You need to be different to go after the path he's chosen for himself. "I swear!" Taehyung rolls his eyes, shaking his head.
"Have you considered all this time spent away from civilization turned you mad?"
The bun is done, sadly. You made it last for as long as you could but eventually, as every perfect moment, it has to come to an end. You don't even bother to hide your dread as you let your ass drop to your chair, puffing.
"Leave him alone, moron." A few peanuts to his stupid head and Taehyung stops messing with Jungkook, stops acting like he's insane and starts telling about something no one cares about -so much so, Yoongi leaves to go chat up an old goblin who's just entered the bar.
Jungkook turns to you, leaning a bit. Smiling quietly, gently. As if he doesn't realise the face he owns once his hair isn't hiding the majority of it anymore.
It must be a joke. He must know. He must have noticed how his straight, dark eyebrows, with the cut splitting the right one in half, gives an irresistible, dark, mature shape to the roundest, sparkliest set of eyes the world has ever seen. He must know his face is a wonderful work of art, with the tiny little details, here and there, adding charms and depth and uniqueness, that only the greatest, only a special artist would know to use -like this faint scar linking a mole under his lip to the corner of his mouth, or the one craving in the top of his cheek. His colours are splendid too. While you'd always seen him with black everything, black hair, black clothes, quiet sombre aura and a tiny bit of red, you'd catch sometimes, where he'd hurt his hands. Never would have you thought, he's more harlequin than monochromatic. Golden scopes, tipsy patches of red matching the tiny pout he owns for a mouth, eyes not dark but the richest shade of chocolate.
"You," Jungkook starts in a whisper, now so close you have a whiff of his smell, torturous scent of pinewood, of soot, and something else, more natural, sweat most definitely but turns out to be the better element of the mixture, suave, awfully addictive. "you believe me, don't you?" You need a full minute to get your brain's vessels to connect. A full minute during which you have no idea what the hell he's talking about, what words are and how to use them, and all you can focus on is not dying from a heart attack -and also, not show that you are having one.
You shake your head up and down, still unsure to what you're agreeing to. It does not matter that much because he's smiling the way he does. The adorable smile another wonderful novelty, shaped like a bunny one, eating up his upper lip into the thinnest cupid bow. The sparks in his eyes, on his cheeks, from excitement, mirth. He's really here with you, warmer than you've ever thought him able to be, and somehow, different than what you had expected, but thousand times more endearing. Having developed a crush on him previously makes more and more sense by the second.
"Thank you for the invitation." He says quietly. You don't miss a single word, nor the least flinch in his intonation (soothing, genuine), even in the loudness of the bar, because, for some reason, he's never leaned back. He remains there, hardly a dozen of centimetres away from you.
"No problem." You lie, effortlessly after a few gulps of liquid courage. If you're enchanted by the evening, the unexpected turns of events, he still made you go through a short misery for this. He must see your awkwardness, he must notice how you're sweating bullets and swallowing with difficulty. How your eyes keep battling between wanting to bath in his and avoid them at all cost. Jungkook doesn't budge though and it almost gets annoying, almost upset you how he doesn't care -or maybe simply doesn't realise- the effect he's having on you. "I thought you couldn't-" You start, meaning to sting him a bit because he deserves it.
"I finished early, and um-"
"Was it even real?" You ask, genuinely curious to have him clear this out for you. It's not like you're mad anymore. On your face, you only feel a tingle at the apple of your cheeks from how many smiles and waves of laughter you've shared, the desperate tears from earlier long dried and gone. "The excuse, I mean."
"It wasn't an excuse..." Jungkook turns his face away from you then. Biting hard on his bottom lip, a traitorous grin hardly contained. The tip of his ears are flushed, you wonder from what, until you see his hand raising to the top of his head where it flats down hair that doesn't need it. "I- I just-" Maybe it's seeing him this abashed that pushes you forward, literally, scraping your chair to the wooden floor, thigh meeting his in the process. "I was startled when you- asked. When you said my name even, I wasn't- like- expecting it and I'm not used to-" He cuts himself off, a hand vaguely motioning the room.
"To what?" You insist, mimicking his murmuring tone, terrified as you are to pop out the little bubble now only he and you dwell.
"Going out with people or just- hang out, I don't know." He looks inherently embarrassed now. Possibly even a bit saddened, you note. Still, his face remains open, kind, the ever-boyish smile teasing at least the corner of his lips. You don't mean to be so sappy but you wish, consciously, right this second, for this very moment to last an eternity or at least, for your memory to take a picture realistic enough, as in-depth and detailed as possible so that you'll be able to recall and relive it for years to come.
"Oh. Dragons don't like to go clubbing?" He bumps your thigh with his knee, chortling at your words but shaking his head nonetheless. As you stare at his thigh, covered by a cheap black cloth stretched to the very limit, stuck to yours, almost supported by yours, sending a continuous channel of heat from there to the pit of your stomach, it seems like you've reached a determining point. A definite phase where you can handle him (more or less). Enough not to liquefy on the spot at his every glance, while remaining way too aware of him, his smell, his warmth, every sound coming out of his mouth, his lovely, lovely charms.
You really like him.
"My head hurts." Taehyung's half-dead on the table. You're not too worried because as his head lies flat, his hair marinating in a pool of spilt beer, he can mumble with a lot of coherence about how heavy his head feels, and how it will probably weigh this much until Monday. Jungkook grabs a bunch of tissues to try to slip under Taehyung's head as an absorbing pillow, it's no use though, because Taehyung, strangely enough, feels too comfortable in this position to let himself be disturbed. Jungkook seems concerned, a bit bothered even -way more than you are because you are very much used to this depiction of lame- until Yoongi passes by, observing with deep disapproval written all over his face. He kicks on purpose one of Taehyung's chair legs, making him groan, and leaves.
Greediness turns you bold. Knocking Jungkook's leg the same way he did earlier, you call back his attention on you. For some reason, he stares at your legs, touching. You wonder for a second if you shouldn't have. It's not that much, he did it earlier, but maybe you shouldn't have. He's too pensive. Doesn't budge a muscle. In deep reflection. You hit him again, a tiny little push, and a few others to follow, like an annoying bratty kid trying to steal someone's attention. His hand finds its way to your knee then, enclasps it entirely, thumb pressing and you have no idea if any of this means anything, but it does send a rush of jolt straight between your legs. Surely he doesn't mean this use of firmness to turn you on, does he? How could he even guess it having this effect? You didn't even know it yourself.
It does work though. You stop acting like a feisty little brat, patiently waiting for him to be ready to listen to you. He pretends, mean as he is, that the hand won't stay, letting it slide slightly away from your knee. It doesn't go far though. Somehow it's comfortable a bit higher on your thigh. Not very high. It's awfully PG, awfully casual and platonic, but it serves to drive you a little breathless.
With the wide glassy eyes, the small smile that keeps finding its seat on his lips each time he turns to face you, he's all ears, all eyes, just for you. It's infuriating. Galvanizing. You lavish in it.
"You said it doesn't get lonely?" You blurp out, putting all efforts on focusing on the question you are sincerely curious about. If you didn't have it blinking loud and bright in your brain for the past ten minutes, you would have had it long lost and forgotten. He's messing with your head. But you owe to ask. The curious sadness, that you may have imagined for all you know, you saw briefly earlier needs to be addressed.
If it ever were there, it's gone anyway. As he stares into your eyes, seemingly pondering his next words around in his head, there's a gleam shining to you personally there.
"It doesn't when you don't know what you're missing."
"I don't feel too good, puffskein." Taehyung burps out. Thanks to some miracle, he doesn't end up vomiting all over the table but it's obvious he's this close to it and needs to be taken home. It takes all the goodness of your soul, all of it, to control your urge to grab your wand and throw a forbidden curse on his stupid ass.
The asshole makes you out to be an ungrateful friend, appreciation long gone, aggravation deeply grounded. It was going so well.
"Sorry about Taehyung." You start, wincing a bit. Your back leaned against the door of your room, it's late, quiet and badly lit up in Hogwarts' hallways. Taehyung is sound asleep in his bed, fully clothed and wrenching of a burp who turned down to be vomit. You've managed to use your wand on him, something to make sure he'll have a long and safe night and a rather gentler awakening tomorrow.
Jungkook pretty much carried him on his back, all the way to his bed, without much of a complaint, only a growl or two when Taehyung showed himself difficult in the capricious stairs hall -because it's the best and safest place to try and stumble, blindly, drunk out of your mind.
"It's fine. I had a great time."
"Dragging Tae's drunk ass all the way here was fun to you?" You tease, squinting at him. You know what he means. You know that he knows what you mean. You're only trying to earn time. Just a little bit more time. It's late, he's about to leave you for his room, you assume, and you're not just ready for it yet.
"Maybe not this part."
You don't know what to say to make him stay. It's not like you could possibly invite him inside, is it?
Yoongi would say it's way too soon. Another version of you, maybe a twenty-four-hour younger version of you, the one that didn't know him from this close yet, that didn't get to talk and undergo the full experience that is Jeon Jungkook, to feel his hand on your thigh, his pretty eyes -Merlin, there is a time when you didn't even suspect he hid those wonders right here- would agree. It's not your kind, to have hook-ups. You wouldn't even know how to.
That being said, it's not like you often meet Jeon Jungkooks.
You're not that greedy. You're sure of it. When he's leaning himself against the wall, shoulder pressed against it to support himself, head slightly tilted, watching you soundly, the corner of his lips always curled upward. His eyes say it all. Completely black in the shadow, hooded, tempting. Sending heat to your core, shudders along your spine, tingles to the tip of your fingers.
If he says something, if he suggests anything, you'll say yes. He just has to say it. You've been courageous enough already. Asking him out, talking to him, and everything else. You just can't. You can't imagine admitting out loud what you wish to happen now, exposing yourself to him again by asking him if he'd like to stay the night.
And it's too soon, isn't it?
But Hell, you still have the lucid memory of his hair, running in between your fingers and it's become undeniable how bad you'd like to have it again except this time, you could be less delicate.
"I should probably go."
The disappointment is the language you speak because you're too tired to filter the vexation in your voice, "What, your dragons need to be tucked in?"
"Uh?" He chortles. All teeth out, eyes a bit wide, he regards your face, evidently amused. "Is there anything on your mind you'd like to share, maybe?"
"Absolutely not." You're bratty. It's the tiredness and maybe the butterbeer too. Undoubtedly the frustration. Arms crossed, looking away, pouting because somehow you are unable to relax your mouth and need to be so obvious about it all.
"Are you mad at my dragons?" Jungkook asks lightly. If you don't dare look at his face right now, you can guess it. He must have that smirk you've seen a glimpse of a few times tonight. From your peripheral vision, you can tell he's mocking you. Standing away from the wall, a step closer to you, chest puffed out and arms crossed on it.
"Why would I be?" You mumble, ever so vexed.
"Exactly." He's holding back a laugh, you can hear it louder than if he were to let it out.
Continuing, same tone, same pout, squinting harder at the void that is the end of the hall, "They sound awesome, I have no reason-"
"They are. You should meet them."
Startled, you look up to him, eyes wide with both fear and interest. "Should I?"
"Yeah." His tongue swipes swiftly over his bottom lip before he bites on it for a second, pondering. "Go to bed now so that you're in good shape tomorrow and I'll introduce you then."
Of course, he'd be so casual about it but the idea kind of blows your mind. "Really?" You've seen dragons from afar a very few times, during competitions or this one time, with Taehyung at that circus in Wales. But never have you approached one. Like most wizards, at least all wizards holding the basic amount of worth necessary to their life, it's not something you want to do: approach a dragon. You know that for the Care of Magical Creatures class, Jungkook only brings one dragon at a time. The class with their professor standing on one end of a wasteland, and Jungkook, at least a hundred feet away, presents them the animal.
"Yeah," Jungkook says again, bobbing his head along. You're dazzled by the light the grin adorning his face brought. He really wants to show you his dragons. "But early. Like super early. They're tired in the morning so they won't be too... agitated."
"Is this supposed to reassure me?" He shrugs with the same cheerful beaming.
"Did you hurt yourself with Taehyung?" For the third time tonight, you've seen him reach a hand over his shoulder, messily massaging the muscle with a tiny grimace on his face. He hasn't mentioned it so you did not bring it up but the thought that maybe it's your dumbass of a best friend who's responsible awakes your guilt.
"No, it's not Taehyung." He scoffs. Almost offended that you could imply he hurt himself that way. "I had a bad fall."
"On your back? How do you fall on your back?" There are, actually, a lot of ways for someone to fall on their back but somehow, you can only imagine Quidditch players to have the occasion to do so. You haven't fallen to the ground since you were twelve and finally mastered the skill of flying on a cheap broomstick. But Jungkook is different, right?
"Tina. You'll meet her tomorrow."
Tina. One of his dragons. Of course. He sounds so excited to introduce you to a mythical creature who manifestly attacked him, you start to wonder if that's not the thing that is wrong about him. Because everything is too sweet and lovely and perfect about him, something must be wrong -or else, it's not fair. And maybe his thing is that he is batshit crazy.
"Anyway," A clearing of the throat -you almost missed those, "go to bed. Sleep tight. Tomorrow, I want you-" Your heart stops in your bosom. There's the tongue winking at you again, through his pink lips, it's indecent, makes you forget it all about his alleged insanity, "alive and kicking."
You roll your eyes, raising your eyebrows, bewildered by his choice of words. He laughs, again. The boyish one but quieter, as if he's scared to wake the castle or just a grumpy painting possibly hanging somewhere in the dark. It's lovely. "Thanks for walking me to my room. And for Tae." You say, sincerely, turning to your door to open it.
"You're very welcome." Before you disappear in your suite, you glance his way. It's sappy-you again, needing to take a mental picture of his face, with the hair still pushed back, the rebellious strand from earlier curling against his cheek, his handsome everything, his soft expression and charming smile. He doesn't seem to mind. If anything he's doing the same, not hinting to a departure until you take it upon yourself that maybe, it's enough staring at each other wordlessly for tonight and you wave him goodnight, closing the door behind you.
By Merlin's beard, what the hell happened today?
And what the fuck is going on, now?
Your ass down on the hard ground, head dizzy, with a little warm tingling sensation in the crook of your neck.
Jungkook is standing, looking like he’s a thousand feet tall with his long legs, chest puffed out and leaning upward. He’s facing Tina, the infamous Tina, about his height if you put aside the long tail laying flat to the ground in between her legs. She's a bright degraded of a deep purple and a fire red, covered in scales, sharp and standing upwards every few seconds as if they're breathing along with her lungs.
He has a forearm blocking her jaws open, glaring with the most severe set of eyes you could never have imagined on him boring holes in her flamboyant ones. He’s growling things in a language you think you recognise as Romanian, barking in her face as he forces his arm deeper, gagging her, not caring about the sharp teeth digging in his skin.
After a while of the strangest and scariest staring contest you’ve ever witnessed, the tail lying between her legs flap once and she whines a heartbreaking mewl.
His face softens at that, slightly, he frees her from his arm, taking a step back while keeping an attentive eye on her.
Tina snivels more, as soon as her master’s attention hints at leaving her, rubbing the tip of her gigantic snot against his shoulder blade.
“Not now.” He says, sending her away with a pat to the side of her neck.
This is the weirdest thing you’ve ever experienced.
You simply remain there, staring, gaping, trying to process it all.
You’ve been jumped by a dragon and Jeon Jungkook is-
“Are you okay? I’m so sorry.” He still has his hair pushed back in a messier bun than the one you made for him yesterday as if he knows that you like him a lot like that. Therefore nothing is hiding the most pitiful look you've ever seen on anyone's face when he looks down to you. Eyebrows dropping low above shiny wide pearls, his two hands reaching for you, munching nervously on his lip.
-Terrible. You just had the biggest fright of your entire life -and probably, hopefully, the last one of the kind- and all you can think about, is how wet you got from Jungkook growling like an animal, and somehow intimidating the fiercest animal there is to submission.
“She doesn’t- I didn’t think she’d be that excited, I’m sorry, ___.” He mumbles, guilt laced in every syllabus he pronounces. You accept one of his hand, sliding yours against his palm, hot and calloused, sending warm all over your body as he squeezes around your fingers. “It’s my fault. She’s used to playing rough with me and she doesn’t control her strength very well yet-“
He bends over, catching your second hand in his and lifts you, a bit too strongly given how you are entirely made of mush right now. You hit his chest in the process, he has to steady you once you’re up on your wobbly legs. He holds you with a hand to your upper arm, still hot, still firm, it has the blood to your face boil even more. What kind of experience would it be to bathe entirely in this warmth, to have not the least stupid barrier in between yours and his skin, to feel his firm hold grabbing you, his whole body covering you and pressing you down?
You need to focus on the pets.
Tina seems upset, a few meters away, her tail slapping the ground impatiently but her head held low. There are three others, different sizes and spices, quietly laying above the trees forming the forest glade. They’re watching inquisitively, quiet, as cats would, you had no idea they could behave like that but then again, they were raised by this fucking guy.
The guy still holding you close, breathing hard over your forehead, who’s most definitely searching for your eyes you are deliberately not allowing him to meet. You’re not mad. A bit shook still maybe. You’re just soaked, head filled with inappropriate thoughts you're terrified he might hear from how loud they are. And the oblivious idiot keeps apologising and asking if you’re fine because you should not be, you should probably be more traumatised, certainly not aroused as you are, especially when he’s feeling this guilty. You catch a wobble in one of his words and wonder if he could even cry from a guilty conscious.
Therefore you grant him a glance.
“I’m fine, Jungkook. Really.”
He must see something there, hear the subtle tilt your voice, too soft, has taken because he nods, visibly relaxing. His hand departs slowly, fingers grazing your skin.
“Jungkook, I have something for you.” You say it like you know where it’ll lead. Frankly, you have no idea. You can hope, wish very loud and clear in your mind, but you can’t bet on it. “For your back.” You fish out of your shoulder bag a tiny flask. With its shimmery blue content, the tag on it with his name and a short note consisting of wishes of healing you’re somehow embarrassed to show him. “I made it before coming. It should fix your back in no time.”
“That’s very kind of you, ___. Thank you.” He grabs your hand along with the bottle as if he couldn’t take it on its own, and now you’re sure he knows what he’s doing to you. He can’t be innocently stealing all of these touches from you without knowing how intensely pleasing it feels all over.
“Don’t thank me yet, you might not like the... process.” He raises an eyebrow, head slanting to the side. “It’s a bit uncomfortable for like... 30 seconds and then it gets better.”
“How uncomfortable?”
“Well... Nothing too bad. I’m sure you handled way worse.” He can see you’re not completely honest with him. For your defence, looking at all the scars scattered on the very few skin your eyes have access too, he must be used to some kind of pain. It’s not painful per se. It is uncomfortable. Like dipping a firstly warmed up skin in a cryogenic liquid for half a minute kind of uncomfortable. He senses it. Watching the strange liquid carefully, suspiciously, he’s not certain he’ll use it.
“Is it dangerous?”
You scoff, hands raising to your sides, “No, I mean- Not if you apply it correctly, it’s fine.”
“If I-“ He worries at his lip, frowning, mentally debating the subject as if it’s that much of a big deal. Honestly, the risk, is, not that tragic. An over-application can cause a curious discolouration that will, later on, turn into a marble-like blue patch -it might be definite but you’re not sure-, you can potentially burn your skin too but usually, it only happens -and it’s the case with any magical ointment really- if it’s mixed with another ingredient it shouldn’t come in contact with or on a body that’s already under certain charms -which is not his case, you assume-, and of course, an ointment made for local application should in no circumstances be ingested. It’s not that complicated. He doesn’t need to look so scared and suspicious.
“For Merlin’s sake, Jungkook! Don’t use it if-“ You aim to snap it out of his hand but he’s quicker, holding up where you can’t reach, the corner of his eyes crinkling cutely.
“No I want to but- can you do it for me? You worried me.”
“You really are a big baby, aren’t you?” He shrugs, doesn’t deny it. He looks cute like that. Dancing on his two feet, munching on his lip, hands deep in the pockets of his pants. “Fine.” You say without meaning it. You wouldn’t say that you’re fine or that you’ll be fine.
When he walks you to his cabin, twenty meters away from the dragons' playground, your heart starts beating hard and fast, more furiously at every step. It might not mean much more than a nurse job. At the same time, would it make any sense for you to not take the opportunity to take a step and make it more than that? Kim Taehyung would turn you into some kind of pile of whatever gross creature's shit if he were to hear that.
The cabin is super tiny, rustic and barely equipped. Wooden floor, wooden walls, wooden furniture -if you can call them that. Mentally, you curse at Mrs Umbridge. If she didn’t plan this on purpose just because she despises the guy and his pets. You can tell he sleeps in it because of the shitty mattress sitting on a pile of wooden boxes, with the sheets unmade. Discarded used clothes in a corner, a little tower made of books that all seem to be about travelling, magical creatures and travellers’ autobiographies. It’s dark, smells like soot with a tint of something sweet, as if the remnants of a pastry made of cinnamon is hiding somewhere.
Jungkook excuses himself for the mess, even if it’s not much compared to the poor condition he must have received the cabin as, jumping to the only window to tear open the dusty curtain.
It brings a bit of light inside, a subdued but warm yellow-ray coming straight from the barely awakening Sun.
It feels a bit stuffy in here. With him taking over the whole space, and your lungs struggling to pump normally. It feels too intimate, to be standing a few steps away from the place he sleeps in at night. Too intimate because you're not used to it, and two days ago, or even fucking yesterday morning, you would have never thought you'd ever be standing here.
"It's cosy."
You comment, humming to yourself, at the same time as he asks,
"Should I take off my shirt?"
You almost choke, tilting your head, watching him with misplaced shock. He's already holding the hem of his black shirt higher on his stomach, exposing smooth golden skin, tight on a thin, sculpted waist, a trail of teasing black hair under his belly button, yet looking at you with his wide round eyes, unsure, quite innocent somehow.
"I don't think you need to- the whole thing." Coward-you hurries to answer, trying to divert your attention to anything but him.
Jungkook turns around, giving you his back and raising his hands to the back neck of his shirt, wincing silently, as he lifts the cloth. The back is almost worst than the front. The thin waist you had a glimpse of, the smooth skin with the golden highlights, the cute dimples at the bottom of his back, the developed, beautifully drawn muscles. A dizzying hot flush takes over your head.
This guy is a mystery. Under his thick, oversized clothes, you knew he was well built, but never would you have expected that. It's not like you care about it usually but with him standing in front of you, smelling so wonderful, with this thing, intense and unique, linking and running in between you two, you can't ignore it all. You can't ignore nor deny how attracted you are and giddy and greedy at the idea of seeing it, of touching it all -when most people don't even get close enough to him to suppose what he's hiding.
It's easy to get back to Earth and the present moment with the large, blue hematoma marking his right scapula. It looks painful as hell, so much so you wonder how he's been handling it so far, how he hasn't visited the infirmary yet, how often it happens and if he always simply tighten his jaws and take the pain until it just leaves.
He turns you cheesy again. You'd like to lean forward and press a kiss to make it better. You wouldn't dare though, and you know, for a fact, that the ointment you prepared for him would be an infinite amount of times more effective to heal him.
He shudders at some point. Probably because you're taking a short eternity to do anything, or just say anything, silently contemplating instead.
Gulping hard, you start, "Bear with me, ok? It'll be better in no time." He grumbles something to himself, way too quiet for you to hear over the loud popping of your potion's bottle and the even louder rummaging of your heart in your bosom.
The first drops seem to be fine. He's not squirming under the gentle touch of your fingertips, handling the strange sensation that the potion causes at first, instantly warming up at the contact with skin. He even relaxes, letting you spread evenly all over the bruise, calm and still as the perfect patient.
Until he squeals.
"Fuck, what- ah!"
On reflex, he tries to bend and twist, attempting desperately to avoid the inhumanly freezing discomfort burning his skin. You try to hold him still, hands clasped to his shoulders but he wouldn't stop wriggling, whining like a hurt puppy.
For a tough guy, he can't handle much, you decide. It's amusing but concerning as you see him move around so much, you can imagine how he's stimulating the pain coming directly from his injury rather than the ointment.
"Jungkook, stop!" He manages to knock the pile of his books down with a blind kick. "It'll last just a few seconds, calm down!" Your hands fully pressed against his bruise, the heat coming from your overly agitated heart helping, it releases some of the cold. Somehow your tiny hands on his broad back are enough and he sighs in contentment, just a tiny whimper uttered as a remnant of his short but intense torment.
"Are you ok?" You ask after a few minutes. His breathing has quieted down too. His shoulders hanging low, his head relaxed, ease and comfort have taken over his body and mind.
"Yeah. But-" Tentatively, he tests out his right shoulder, rolling it up and down a few times, a tiny impressed 'wow' escapes him and you grin to yourself, enchanted to see him acknowledge your talent. "When you said discomfort-"
"Sorry about that. I thought you wouldn't want to try but it's worth it, isn't it?"
"It is." He has a sudden burst of laughter when he turns around, flashing you a relieved smile. You can read in his eyes that he's a bit surprised, a bit confused himself about what's so funny, probably settling on the little fright the experience gave him. You won't mention that the potion, if it's so effective and this, so quickly, is because it has very highly active ingredients that mess with the organism as soon as it penetrates the skin and his insides might be a tiny bit all over the place for a few moments.
Suddenly, a big whooshing sound comes from outside, seemingly knocking against the front wall of the cabin and making it shake on its hinges. It just makes him chuckle some more, not worried the least and beyond amused by your reflex to step towards him, hands raised, this close to grabbing a hold of his shirt.
"It's just Tina getting impatient, don't worry."
"Don't worry?" You scoff. The mention of her name brings back the memory from earlier. For some reasons, Jungkook's presence now and inside that memory, make it all seem rather mundane but you're sure, you're positive that you should feel traumatized by what happened. A dragon fucking attacked you.
Jungkook shoots you a crooked smile you can't say you recognise. With a little bite on the corner of his bottom lip, dark eyes squinted yet shinning mischief.
"You're safe with me." He says, voice low, teasing, as one of his hand reaches for his index and thumb to pinch lightly at your waist.
"Because they're scared of you somehow?" He laughs again, hand now encompassing your side, staring down at you. He looks so inhumanly attractive. You're confused where this intensity comes from. If it's simple lust, coming from a genuine natural place, the same as yours. Or if the potion is not still messing with him, and his hormones, possibly. It shouldn't. It's been a good ten minutes and his build wouldn't entail this long of a repercussion.
"They're not scared. They just know who's the alpha." He explains with the cockiest shit-eating grin you've ever seen. Even greasy Gilderoy Lockhart doesn't have those. You'd find him gross if he was a hundred per cent committing to the act. There's a lurch though, in the way chocolate marbles shine in childish amusement, the tendentious beam turning into a boyish one, biting back something you know would sound like a giggle if he let it escape. You chuckle yourself, hitting him on the chest -because now that he's healed, he can take it. He doesn't budge an inch, doesn't back the slightest away from you. If anything, the hand holding you slide a bit further behind your back, keeping you close. "I'm just kidding." He whispers, voice as soothing as his attentive gaze as turned. So attentive you feel your face burn with shame.
As a poor attempt to deflect your focus on this, your hand raises to his chest again, fingers scrapping at a tiny default in his shirt.
"You're not." He snickers. "I still don't understand how you're not scared of them..." The question somehow was never brought up. The whole night, the day before, your friends and you spend your time praising him and asking so many questions about his life and dragons in general, the things he's seen, the things he's done, the reasons that push him to take this orientation -something about adventure and wanting to see where the world ends was the answer however you could tell it wasn't entirely the real one- but you never actually asked how come he's not terrified of these deadly creatures.
"Honestly, your students are way scarier to me than they are." Your eyes grow big with surprise as you simper. You naturally lean a bit back as you laugh, and he follows you, for some reasons, eyes fixed on you, a tiny smile shaping his mouth. "That one girl the other day, the way she looked at you."
"Yeah, they can be real brats sometimes."
"My dragons, on the other hand, are super playful and soft." He sounds like a little boy, trying to brag about his alleged better pet. Of course, he'd be lethally sexy a second and undeniably adorable the next.
"You're a bit weird, Jeon." Jungkook shrugs, not sure what to say to that because he knows you're right. He can also hear in your voice that you don't mind and he's not sure how to say that he's glad you don't. Because he doesn't say anything you force yourself to look up, study his handsome face to read him. His expression is precisely what you expect yours to look like. Content yet expecting for something more, enamoured.
It's just hard to take the first step. Impossible to overcome.
Only now, from so close he can probably feel your breath hitting his neck, you notice he has a thin beard decorating his jaw. There's a patch missing on the left. You press the tip of your index to the tender skin, noting he's probably got burnt.
"That's what happens when a baby with a cold refuses to leave your shoulder."
"It sneezed on you?" He nods, grinning. "I could make something for that. And for your eyebrow too." You stare, your finger caressing the soft skin, cheating a bit and slipping to the side of his jaw where there's nothing except a barely unshaven skin. Jungkook sucks in a breath.
"Would you?"
"If you want me too. You'd be losing charm points for sure but-"
"Oh, I have those?"
For some reasons, it’s this moment your memory chooses to recycle your friend’s words. The ones about him being that great. With the pretty gold glimmer coming from his peculiar round eyes, you do not doubt that he is.
“As if.” You roll your eyes, jaded by his certain lie.
And the ones about him possibly being a lot, being too much to handle follow quickly behind. He is a whole lot, from head to toes, to the very essence of his character. The thing is he’s dipped in a thick pool of sweet honey, rounding his edges into something so much more accessible, too easy to swallow, how could you not try.
“Let’s not fix it then,” He starts, one of his hand roughly rubbing at his short beard. “you already have too many ahead of me.”
You give him a doubtful “oh really?” look he greets with an amused grin. He’s pretty smooth for a guy that hardly ever interacts with women and humans in general.
You almost ask if his pets give him dating advice but you decide to keep it for later. The cat and mouse game is getting hard to endure. You’re not bored of it but you know you’re both ready for it to turn a little less playful and a little more decisive -also you don’t know exactly what time it is, however, you do know you have a class in the morning. It (whatever it is) won’t happen with you bullying him restlessly.
Maybe one of you will get tired of watching so closely the other's face, you both know the details by heart by now, are probably even able to draw them with your eyes closed, and act.
There’s a subtle frown messing up his handsome face. A tiny dip of the starting lines of his eyebrows and a pout reshaping his lips.
“I’m really sorry about that.” He mutters, shame dripping from his words. The pad of his thumb raises to your neck, grazing ever so lightly the skin surrounding the tiny cut Tina gave you earlier.
It’s not that bad. Doesn’t even hurt anymore. When your heart is beating so fast, when your cheeks are burning so high, when your core is quivering so much, you barely remember about the cut on your neck ever hurting.
He seems so sorry though. And then he’s leaning towards you, dubious eyes not leaving yours until he’s hidden in the crook of your neck and can’t see you anymore, and softly, presses his lips to the bruise.
It feels like a seizure in your heart. It shouldn’t be much but it is, the softest touch, most delicate, also a beautiful promise for more to come.
You relax under him, his arm naturally sliding further behind you, pulling you flush against him. You tend your neck, expecting more, demanding more. He instead breathes in, nose buried in your hair, humming to himself as if the scent pleases him before he’s kissing your neck again, this time a more resolute kiss, with a tough pressure, a louder smack.
You can’t help but giggle, he sniffed you like an animal would, like a dragon would. The giggle turns into an embarrassing fit of laughter, the tension wearing you out probably helping a lot.
“What’s so funny?” Jungkook asks, cheeks flushed, eyes bright with curiosity and a smile translating his bemusement. He backs away for a second, just to see your face.
“Sorry-“ More giggles, he pinches your side, you barely manage to bite your laughter back in your throat. “Sorry but you’re really- I just didn’t realise to what extent you’ve been raised by dragons.”
He’s confused you can tell, frowning in deep thought yet not looking the least vexed. It makes you smile. Seeing him looking so adorable, a little lost, a little embarrassed. You kiss the palm of his hand, the one that’s sitting where it fits perfectly, tucked in the crook of your neck, his eyes grow big for a split second. “Cause I smelled you? Was it weird? I’m sorry, I’m just used to- like- smells are imp-“
He made it so easy for you to press your lips to his. Everything about him, from his smell to his warmth, to his smiles both from his pretty flushed lips and from the wonders he owns for eyes, his voice soothing, welcoming, words always gentle, always soft. He’s both the unknown and at the same time, the most comfortable aura you’ve ever wanted to dip in.
It’s hesitant at first, or more precisely sheepish, like testing the waters. Figuring out where you’re stepping in, noticing you’re barely keeping your nose up and afloat. It’s scary, new and exciting. Requires a little bit of practice, some intended nibbles, some timid lingering.
You’re both unsure, trying until you’re not anymore. Like a button blooming into a rose, suddenly turned bright bloody red, intense and passionate, with fierce thorns digging and scratching at the skin.
You sigh into him, he’s humming as in agreement. There’s a little agitation coming from outside. As if they know what you two are doing, how you’re feeling. As if impatient Tina can tell you’re stealing her human right under her snoot.
He is so willing to get stolen though. Chasing after your mouth when you worry for a second about the ruckus going on just behind the wall, arm tightening around you, hugging you as close as he can, his body melting with yours whenever your fingers dig in his skin.
You’re the first one to slip your fingers underclothes to just have a little sample of naked skin. It’s just past the hem of his sweatshirt, the soft and burning skin of his waist. It spurs him on. As if he was just waiting for you to give him permission, his hands find a home under your shirt. Flat on your skin, so large, so hearty, raw skin from someone who’s worked with those hands a lot, feeling so nice on you, feel like he’s holding you captive in between the palms.
The hand against your back slides up, stopping an instant where your bra is sealed, toying with it as if he’s wondering if he can. Deeming that he can’t, for some unknown reason, he goes further to grip the back of your neck. You’re too busy with his tongue teasing yours, with the growing stiffness digging in your stomach to notice. Have your brain been less occupied, you would probably have the fingers playing with the ends of his hair, pulling a little harsher than they already are. He’s loving it, it seems. Moaning each time you do, groaning each time your nails slip through the hair to scrap at his skin.
Everything is too good. Everything feels made to be, bodies made to meet and make up. It feels like this could be enough. Highly satisfying, more delicious than any make-out session has ever felt because none of those boys before were Jeon Jungkook and never have you liked someone as much as you like him.
But Jeon Jungkook can’t be perfect. You don’t know if he means to be to tease or if it’s just him holding onto some doubts, some insecurities, not wanting to go too far without you explicitly telling him that it’s what you want -because, clearly, it’s not evident enough, the way you’re hanging off of his mouth, limp in his arms, subjectively grinding against his cock can’t be telling enough.
His second hand, the one closest to all the places you want him to invade, won’t give in. Set on your stomach, his thumb retracing the underline of your bra, this hand is the very incarnation of a tormentor. You don’t last long, grousing in your mind, losing your shit and your patience, giving him chances after chances to finally get to it but of course he never does.
Your frustration reaches its limits when you back away from him, hitting his chest with your fist, breathless and frowning.
He’s too dazed, hooded eyes barely seeing anything but your swollen mouth, to comprehend. Until you bark his name, punching him again.
Jungkook takes in your mad eyes, scrunched eyebrows and impatient tapping of your foot on the cabin's floor.
“Touch me.” You whine more than you demand. His light chuckles fill the suffocating air, diffusing a little bit of the tension and maybe it’s not for the worst.
“Is that all?” He asks, leaning in to place a soft kiss on your pouty mouth. “You scared me.”
“I don’t care.” He is so gentle on your lips. The sweetest touch you’ve ever received there. Your heart is growing exponentially, threatens to burst in your chest and you’re loving every single second of it.
“You’re a bit mean when you’re frustrated, you know that?” He can hardly contain his amused grin long enough to kiss you. Explicitly telling you, he doesn’t care much for your moody outbursts. “And,” Another kiss right in the centre of your awaiting lips. “I was touching you.”
“Not enough.”
“What’s enough, lil’ brat?” He mumbles against the skin of your neck, biting a little at it, definitely grinning to himself there. You almost cum there.
“Touch me here.”
You can sense his cockiness drops to the ground when you grab his hands and press them to your clothed breasts. He just gapes, too shocked to act, as if it’s the first pair he’s coming in contact with. You have to do everything on his behalf and really, thankfully for him, you like him that much you don’t hold it against him. Tearing the cups of your bra down and under your breasts, guiding his long fingers to your tender mounds, he takes in a shaky breath, his curious eyes borne into yours.
Tentatively, he wraps his hands around them, weighing them, the pad of his thumb caressing the skin, enjoying taking extra time on the nipple. You can tell he wants it, he’s too willing to touch you, yet his mouth, the stupid thing, starts to stutter, “B-but, I don’t think righ-“
“Please.” And if this isn’t enough, you’re giving up. You’ve tried so hard. Asking, moving his hands for him, pleading with your boobs out and your shirt bunched up over them. If this isn’t enough, you’re giving up and probably kicking him in the dick in your way out.
His puppy eyes fall from your eyes down to your breast, almost reluctantly.
He leaves out a tiny whimper of pain. As if he’s the one hurting. As if it’s not you, the one suffering, the one tortured, because he’s been messing with you, shaking your insides upside down, baiting and lightening up sparkles but refusing to feed you accordingly the way you need to. As if he’s not the only one inflicting himself the torment, refusing to give in for reasons you don’t understand.
Until something clicks in his brain, finally, common sense meeting desires, his mouth fall from your neck and straight to your nipple, kissing hungrily. Licking and sucking and nibbling, moaning almost as much as you do. Once both your nipples are swollen and a pretty flush, he senses your sensitivity, deciding to drop from the buds, meaning to cover the whole supple surface of your tits with lovely kisses and infuriating grazing of the teeth.
The position is awkward. Him bent in half, you on your tiptoes, trying to ease the access for him while simultaneously ordering your wobbly legs to keep on supporting you. The task is not easy, so poorly executed he gets tired of it in seconds, big hands seizing you to pick you up, holding you close, your legs wrap around his waist, so comfortable, so natural, somehow more convenient for him, he doesn’t seem to be in the least amount of effort as he feasts gladly on your chest. His hands stay on your ass, fingers digging, occasionally dragging you up and down his front where you can feel him hot and hard against your centre, a few times squeezing and tearing your cheeks apart.
If this is not what paradise tastes like, then you don’t know what is.
It’s perfect pleasure, pure satisfaction.
But of course, you’re human.
Soon, it’s not enough, anymore. And more and more you want and you need. You can feel your cunt clench around nothing, drops of honey dripping from the side hems of your panties crotch. He’s so good to you, lavishing and ravishing your breast like it’s the only job he’s ever wanted but you want more. Maybe you’ll let him worship you another day. Place the kisses and paint the marks he wants on every inch of your body.
Right now you need release. Any kind. He’s pent you up to a point, you can’t handle the idea of not letting any steam out.
You’re about to get bitchy again. Getting saltier and saltier at every empty-handed clench of your cunt. If you don’t take a step now, make him take the step, you’ll turn into a sex-deprived gremlin again, this time worse than earlier, and it’s not a good look you wish for him to see -again.
“Jungkook?” You can sense him perk up at the call of your name, even though he doesn’t stop his ministrations. He hums against your nipple, held tight in between his wet lips. “Fuck, Guk- just- uh- your bed.” No reaction. You suspect he didn’t even listen. “Take me to your bed, Jungkook!” It’s the harsh pull on his hair that’s made him look up and pay attention to your words. Like an obedient puppy with unmatching dark eyes, he nods, swirling around to head for his bed, carrying you effortlessly like you're not a full-grown adult hanging from his neck.
You’re about to meet his sheets. You’re about to get ravished and treated so, so right. You can tell from all the promises his hooded gaze has no shame sharing. Anticipation is killing you. The tenderness and affection along with the evident intense lust you read in him are killing you. Your back is just about to meet his sheets when it just doesn’t. He’s holding you centimètres away from it, eyebrows frowned, preoccupation taking over his face and covering everything sexy that fitted it so prettily.
“I can’t have you on this bed.”
“Wha- why?!” Maybe you yelled a bit. He winces. You don’t know what you look like right now, lust turned into pure fury, you just hope if you feel and talk like a gremlin, you still don’t look like one.
“Have you seen it? It’s not even a bed, it’s just a pile of dirty rags probably a thousand years old-“ It’s sweet and annoying, infuriating beyond belief. He’s blushing too. One foot hitting with spite the pile of rags he was given to use as a bed.
You want to cry.
“Why are you so fucking difficult, Jungkook?” You spit his name with venom, forehead hitting his shoulder, defeated as you feel. He’s hugging you closer, hands less sexual and just warm tenderness as they slide along your spine, pressing you closer if it’s even possible. Feels nice. But your panties, the soaked ruined cloth that is uncomfortably sticking to your cunt are reminding you you’re hating this moment.
“I don’t mean to. I- you deserve better than-“
“But you sleep on it!”
“I can sleep anywhere, it doesn’t matter but you’re too pretty to be laying on this.” You huff at that. Too frustrated to just take the compliment and let it shake your belly with the butterflies in it like a kid would a Christmas snow globe. “I’m sorry.”
“Should apologise to yourself, why you’re sleeping in it if it’s shit? Don’t you deserve better?”
He can tell how you feel. You’re kind enough to let everything clear as day, written in a language he mastered in so little time, an intimate one he’s only allowed to see. He sees the disappointment. Also the ease you’re feeling. The lust that’s not left. The despair and frustration tinted by dark shades of anger. You look cute as hell. All pouty and mushy in his arms. Whining and complaining and so angry yet fingers gently caressing the nape of his neck.
He can tell you’re bitchy, feel like arguing but probably want something else even more.
“Wouldn’t it be better to use your bed instead? I saw it yesterday, looks nice.” He suggests, kissing your jaw to relax you.
“It is, it’s a troll size.” You lean your head back, giving more space for his mouth, mumbled words hardly falling from your pout.
“I saw that.” He says, amusement teasing the corner of his eyes.
“Professor Jeon!” The amusement completely annihilates from his eyes, his pretty rosy lips falling in a shocked o, along with all colours leaving his face. You gasp silently, wide eyes matching his.
There’s a terrifying succession of thuds shaking the little cabin, the call of his name again. Slowly, he releases you from his arms, making sure you meet the ground without emitting the least noise.
“I told you I had a class-“ he mimes with his mouth rather than speak.
“You never told me that?”
“I mean- I tried to but you wouldn’t- you wouldn’t list-“
“Professor Jeon?” More knocking on the door. You both hear the man outside mumbling to himself, a little commotion and you can tell, he’s trying to find a way to reach the window to have a look through it. Jungkook jumps on it, tearing the curtain in front of the blurry glass.
“Yes- uhm-“
“Are you okay? The class is ready for today’s demonstration! We’re all excited about that Opaleye you’ve talked ab-“
“Hagrid, I- I need to- finish get ready so- if you and the class could wait- f-five seconds?”
You are fuming. Glaring at him with the meanest eyes you own. Smoke probably coming out of every orifice, desperately trying to leave out some steam or else you’ll be spitting fire better than his fucking pets do. Tucking your boobs back in your bra, tearing your teeshirt back down, probably looking as miserable as you feel.
He’s apologetic though. One hand holding yours between gentle fingers, massaging kindly the palm of your hand. Looking guilty as hell, pouty with the watery eyes, a sweetheart.
And you like him. The realisation hits you once again, full force, you like him a whole lot. Frustration fading into compliance, leaving you helpless, about to forgive him wholeheartedly and suggest to come back later when his schedule sees it more fitting.
“Alrighty! I’ll show them that cute baby dragon I see over there-“
Jungkook winces visibly. Even you can tell it’s not a good idea to leave Hagrid alone with kids and dragons unsupervised, his reputation precedes him, unfortunately. He doesn’t hint a gesture towards the door though. Observing you with attentive eyes, the same from earlier, as if he’s trying to memorise your traits with utter accuracy, knowing he won’t be seeing it for at least the whole day ahead. You should suggest he takes a picture, it’ll last longer. But you’re overwhelmed with a vague wave of sadness, suddenly, so close to the parting from him and so unready for it.
You don’t know if he sees it, senses it, if when he kisses you hard on the mouth it’s to make himself feel better or if it’s just for you. It works in any case. Your heart filled up as it’d been, with lust and affection and something that can’t be but is so akin to love.
“I wish you didn’t have a class-“
“Do you want me?” He asks in a breathless whisper. The question is ridiculous, the answer being so fucking evident, you’d hit him to the side of the head if you didn’t like so much how intimate, how sexy he sounds murmuring against your lips.
You nod. Realising as you try and fail that he’s stolen all air from you -and probably a few other things like your heart and sanity along the way.
“Can you be quiet?” His hands have already dropped from your face, attached to the hem of your pants, hurried fingers proceeding to open them up. The situation in its entirety with the environment, with the people outside at most a dozens of meters away, the awkwardness, the everything can’t hit you, can’t take a sensible shape. No information able to be treated because of him, his everything, the whole lot that he is, infuriating, dizzying, shattering, moving. All you know is that you can be quiet, you can be whatever he wants you to be right this instant.
“I’m sorry for being so terrible at all that-“ He starts, sincere but light, amused, comfortable with you -and that’s the nicest look you’ve seen on him. “I’ll make it up to you until later when I- can really make it up to you.”
It’s funny to see the two facades of his personality clash like that. He’s apologising, red in the cheeks, but also a mouth, reshaped by a confident fatal crooked smirk, stating promises as facts.
How does he know he’ll make it up to you? How does he know he’ll make you feel good enough you’ll forgive his clumsiness?
“I’ll need more than five seconds, Jeon.” That makes him chuckle silently, shaking his head and squinting in defiance.
“You’ll need hardly more than that.” He says, dragging your pants and your panties at once, down a few centimetres.
Heat burns your face as air hits your centre. It feels shockingly exposing even if he can't see much from up there, with your shirt down, with little to no light coming from the curtained window and his large hand, that doesn’t wait for a second, slipping in between your thighs, covering your mound instantly as his mouth covers yours.
He’s right. This fucker.
You don’t time but you know he makes you come incredibly fast.
First starting by sliding a lone finger in your heat to quickly realise that you are soaking wet, sloppy to be exact, perfectly able to fit at least two and probably a third one easily. And he obliges so, filling the torturous void, fucking you with them slowly, dragging the pad of his rough fingers along your walls, teasing your sensitive entrance with lovely, lovely strokes. The sound -and he has to slow down to keep it quiet enough- is obscene. You don’t remember the last time you’ve been so fucking turned on. Dripping down your legs and unto his hand.
He spends only a few minutes on that, on fucking you nice and open when you both know he won’t even be able to fill you as you both wish he would until, well, some undefined time. It should be revolting, that thought, sort of a quick, immediate satisfaction for a long term painful wait.
But then his fingers leave your hole to migrate to your clit, as engorged as ever, as it’s not been for a long, long time, all of this for this stupid crush, from this stupid man, from his kisses and his scent, and his purposefully neglecting to give it attention. A few strokes only, fast and hard, messy and desperate with a sweet pet name he’s never used but fits so nice from his lips press to your ear and you’re coming, hole kissing emptiness, it sucks but you're invaded with so much content, legs shaking, heart beating fast, remnants of the orgasm reshaping the whole stance of your body, feels like you've just moved in an entirely new one, and head dizzy, feeling in love.
“Told you.” He’s chuckling to himself. Full of himself as he wipes you clean with a teeshirt he just picked up from an open travelling bag.
“Shut up, Jungkook.” You groan. One hand holding onto his bicep while his owns diligently tie back your pants, fixing you like nothing happened. The orgasm has been so good, it devoided you of all strength and energy you may have had.
You need to leave. Or more precisely, he needs to leave and meet the class, take them away probably in the forest so that you can escape and flee back to the castle. It’s inevitable.
You close your eyes for a second. Trying to empty your head, focus on breathing properly again, hiding how upset you feel. It’s not that dramatic. Surely, you’ll catch him again, today probably, later, tonight, but you feel so upset. Like a little girl. You don’t want to leave him yet.
Jungkook calls your name softly. You open your eyes, biting on your lip to contain all the emotions wanting to spill out right under his nose.
“Do you like me?” This time you have to throw a punch to his side -it hurts your knuckles more than it does him- because how dare he ask and look so unsure of the answer. “Well, I don’t know- I don’t- you never know with women and- and like- I- you never said-“
“I’ve liked you for two years, Jeon Jungkook.”
“Two...?”
You see the gears rolling, slowly, unsettled by big knots of confusion. You’re sweet, you’re generous and you just came in his hand, literally, so you have no issue admitting -with only a slight blush on the apple of your cheeks, “When you first came for the Triwizard Tournament.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t-“ Again with the apologies. With the looking so pitiful, with the guilt, with the him being so lovely of a man, especially when he’s so big and covered in all those warlike scars.
“Well you had this in your eyes anyway, would have been hard to notice me.” You joke, stealing one of the locks hiding behind his ear and tickling his eyelids with it. He scoffs, smiling before he slips it back where it was.
“Thanks to Taehyung, I have a hair tie now. So that I can see you better.” He’s beaming, staring at you fondly, it’s insufferable and you look away, embarrassed as ever because those big eyes being just yours, admiring you -for what too?- are hard to handle. You need practice.
“Is it your dragons teaching you all this cheesy garbage-“ He cackles at that, not even letting you finish and you’re loving the idea that it’s you causing that. “You need better wingpets.” He laughs even harder, you’re grinning even harder until a screech, ear-splitting, resonates through the whole surrounding forest. For a second you wonder if it’s not just Tina throwing a fit because she heard how her master is having so much fun with someone else than her but there’s a commotion following and what sounds like a seventeen-year-old Slytherin boy losing his shit, yelling and crying, and alarm takes over Jungkook's face.
“Can I see you tonight?” He asks in a hurry and you nod. “I’ll meet you in your room after I trained-“ A big smooch to your lips. “Actually maybe before, I don’t know, I-“
“Just go, Jungkook.” His eyes say something his mouth can’t, you can read the trepidation, as he sprints to the door, gaze not leaving you.
You can’t be sure a hundred per cent but you’re almost certain he just told you that he really likes you too and suddenly, you don’t feel as upset as you did, knowing you will find him back later.
« Thanks for earlier. »
For a second, you don’t know what he’s referring to. Until he points a finger towards his crotch, a little flush showing on his cheeks, where his hair doesn’t reach.
That makes you laugh. You shrug your shoulders, waving his thank away because of course, you wouldn’t let him run in the middle of a class full of teenagers with a rock hard cock showing through his pants.
Too focused on the possible catastrophe happening in his front yard, he didn’t seem to realise, if any discomfort or pain ever existed he couldn’t acknowledge it but you surely did.
After having it pressed to your crotch, having felt its hardness and its heat, there’s no way you’d be able to just stop thinking about it. Then in the cabin, with your tingling cunt and sticky panties, and the whole day ahead, no matter how far away from him you were, physically and supposedly mentally, it’s just all you could think about.
Blushing incessantly at the least stimulating moments. Gagging back giggles whenever a word, a touch, a smile of his recalled itself to you, and this in front of confused and suspicious eyes.
The whole day was a pain. It simply wouldn’t roll fast enough.
Now here you are, standing in front of him, not recognising him fully. He’s hiding behind his hair again. He’s quiet and awkward like he too forgot how to talk to you.
Maybe that’s what you get for meddling with him so quickly. Suppose you get separated for a short dozen of hours, he becomes a stranger again.
It’s an awful feeling. Seems like maybe you made it all up. The comfort, the noncommittal love and adoration, the ease, the lust, the warmth. Maybe all of it was just a hazy dream. Made up yesterday evening by alcohol and this early morning by fatigue.
Here you are sober and empty of any other commitment and you can’t picture how you could have gotten to that special place and how to find it back if it ever existed.
“You’ve let your hair down.” You simply say. Maybe it’s your way to point out aloud how you feel like you’ve been thrown a thousand steps back. He’s hiding behind his hair, being unreachable again.
“Yeah, I just- they were all staring so I felt awkward-“ You mean to interrupt, let him know because you’re sure that he doesn’t (the boy from the bar yesterday didn’t know) that if they were staring it’s because he is that beautiful and certainly no one has expected that. “I wanted to tie it back for now but I lost the little thingy.” You take a step forward, closing some of the distance between him standing against the wall and you in the middle of your room. The more you hear his soft voice, the more you recognise him. “I hope Taehyung won’t be mad, I can buy a new one for him.” You could probably point out that Jungkook probably did not lose anything. That probably Taehyung used a charm and like any of those, the object you didn’t pay for, that materialised itself from thin air, simply disappeared after some time. Maybe you’ll tell him later. Right now you’re close to him again, so close you can catch a glimpse of an eye under the pretty locks. Your ears recognise him, your nose too, and you’re impatient to see if your fingers would too.
You reach up, catching his fringe in between your fingertips and dragging them behind his ears, opening the silky curtain and smiling to yourself, eyes almost blurry with emotion, when you see his handsome face now on display. With the pretty brown eyes, the rosy lips, the cut eyebrow and that scar on his cheek, just above his timid dimple that shows up only when it wants.
“Hi.”
“Hello.” He squeaks out, flushing. “I must look ridiculous-“ He gestures you his hair your holding hostage behind his ears, taking advantage to caress his soft skin with the pad of your thumbs.
“You look cute.” He does. He looks a bit awkward, like a boy who just finds himself with too much hair and tries to do something about it. “Very cute.” You add, beaming when you see his embarrassment grow.
“Liar.”
He catches one of your wrists in his hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss the thin skin of the inner part. Lips soft, eyes soft, voice tender. “I thought about you a lot today...” Somehow he found you back too. He feels comfortable saying this while you’re sure he’s not used to it. Therefore even if you hate it, you can’t help but admit it. That you too, obviously, could only think about him the whole day. “I’m not here to stay forever, ___.”
Your airy smile flatters until it disappears completely.
Way to ruin the mood.
He senses it. Press the hand leaving his face back against his cheek, pressing the second one to his mouth again as if he could bring you back to him and forget all about what he just implied.
Obviously.
Obviously, his life is not here, in Hogwarts. He’s not a professor, he doesn’t want to become one, he’s here for a project that has a defined limited time - Mrs Umbridge made sure of it. He’s an adventurer anyway. He only knows forest and lands and mountains and mythical creatures, extreme weathers and dangerous places.
Obviously, you two only properly met a few days ago, only started to get to know each other less than 24 hours ago, it’s too soon to be in love, too soon to be so attached that a separation would feel that devastating. But even if you’re not, you feel in love. You feel wonderful in his arms, under his gaze, with his pretty smiles lighting on you and his sweet voice rocking your heart.
It’s so upsetting to think about. You don’t want to. Just him hardly bringing it up makes you so upset you could cry.
“But I- I know that you know that already. Maybe it’s clear for you that- we can’t-“ The more he talks the less sense he makes. Every syllabus seems dragged out of his mouth. He struggles so bad, your hand distractingly playing with the neck of his shirt, only because his hand wouldn’t let it go, you can feel his beating heart through the thick vein of his neck. “What I mean to say is- I don’t know what this- could mean to you. If it means anything or it’s just- like- fun,” Your eyebrow ticks at that. How dare he? “either way I don’t mind-“ He’s quick to add. “Really! Whatever you want is fine. I just mean to say that we can’t- I mean- at some point, I’ll be very very far away so-“
“Does it matter now, Jungkook?”
The whole dilemma is not that hard to solve, on your part anyway. There’s nothing you can do about his future departing, is it? All that’s under your control is either you decide to indulge in him, have him the way you crave to, feed in this lovely thing that’s started blooming yesterday evening between you two and later on, deal with the heartbreak you’ll surely have once he leaves. Or will you deny yourself this, still get the heartbreak but way earlier on and have to nurture it for probably less long but in this peculiar case, through a thick coat of regrets.
You hate to think about it all. You hate to think about a time when he’s not going to be around, not even only appearing at the end of a hallway, not even noticing you, not doing anything special except existing and breathing the same air as yours.
It’s clear for you. He’s right here, right now, literally right under your hands, there’s no doubt in your mind that you’re going to consume as much as him as you possibly can, if only he’ll let you.
He looks worried, concerned. Not on the same page as you maybe. Guilty too. While it’s not his fault. It’s your own stupid, unpractical dumbass’s fault for falling for the only guy that lives like a fucking wild animal and is probably inept to leave his wild savage life for more than a couple of months at a time.
An attempt nibble to his bottom lip. Your eyes shut close slowly as to not squeeze a droplet menacing to fall from your eye. He sighs deeply, leaning into your mouth for a moment.
“I guess it doesn’t have to matter now.” He decides, pressing a new kiss to the relieved smile growing on you.
"Cause you had a few things to show me, I believe..." It's subtle. Sort of. The words may be but the eyes you give him are not, demanding, minxy. Your intentions are no secret to him and you can tell in the way he smirks, kissing you again, this time his warm palms holding your cheeks still. He's made up his mind too.
It's all you needed to wash it all behind. Everything that could be too heavy for your shoulders or your heart to carry right now. Anything that could affect this moment, tarnish it, make it lesser than it could be.
It just has to be good. Only good and nothing else. His hands everywhere, on your ass, squeezing, on your breast, fondling. He seems to have remembered what you like. He's not withholding, he's not overly gentle. He's still awfully tender, awfully sweet because it's just the essence of his person, you feel it in every breath you steal from him. The way he carries you so softly, sitting you down on his lap as careful as ever as to not have you tip over and fall off of the bed.
When you're so greedy and almost rude in comparison, lavishing in the position he just offered you, groaning when you feel his thick thighs stretching yours wide, grinding already, sliding forward to feel his hardness anew against you.
You touch him everywhere because his body feels surreal. Hard and taut and skin boiling even through his clothes. Your hands disorganized, impatient, start by unbuckling his belt to then jump to the hem of his shirt, dragging the cloth up and off of him.
You hardly catch a glimpse of fair honey skin before the light is shut off suddenly. There's the very recognizable thud of a wand hitting the wooden floor that hints at you that he's the one who did turn it off and you want to whine and complain and maybe even argue a little, and maybe more, enough for him to turn it back on but his wet mouth is sucking at your collarbone, the indignant scold dies into an insignificant, trembling whimper.
He lets you undress him. Even if you're missing the visual, you decide you'll enjoy the touch. His skin is so soft, too soft in a few spots where you guess he's been hurt, uneven, little bumpy traits, here and there, like the trace of a road on a map, scattered all over his chest, his shoulders, his arms. He feels wonderful under your fingers. Hot and soft. He smells heavenly, encaging you as he does, you're bathing in his scent, earthy, smoky, masculine.
You have the push him away, a hand on his jaw, another on his chest to have him quit mouthing at your skin and lay his back down on the mattress. In the very dim light, you catch his shiny eyes, wide and intense as they observe you in the dark. You lean over, pressing kisses you hope as loving as his on his skin, starting from his cheek, you feel moving under your lips from him smiling, descending to his hard belly without missing a spot.
Your mouth turns extra delicate when your lips meet uneven skin, as if you could hurt him, as if he hasn't been long healed and your lips aren't the last thing that could ever hurt him, it makes him gasps and sighs though, each time, you feel his abs tighten under you, his thighs stiffen.
"Am I hurting you?" You ask quietly, even if you doubt it.
"Yeah-" He sighs and you freeze. "I mean no! No, no, don't worry."
"Are you sure?" You insist and he groans in defeat. You might be palming his cock through his pants, which you should be patient enough to wait until he answers properly if you'd honestly like an answer. But the rock hard member has been poking your thigh for too long and you can't help it. He's so responsive too, concealing poorly his groans and his moans, his whole body and cock twitchy under you.
You're close to giving him more. To give him fully what he came for. Nails grazing with intent the line where the hem of his underwears lay but not moving down further, hinting at something more but not giving in yet.
It's exhilarating to have him so docile under you, waiting, hardly patiently, for you to give him what he wants and you can tell, from how hard he is, that he really does want it. He sucks his breath in one more time, loudly, and you snickers above him, excited as you are.
Until he decides it's enough. Raising one thigh fast and hard, pushing at your ass, making you tip over with a squeal. He catches you with the cheeky chuckle you've grown to adore, rolling you unto your back so he can hover over you.
You feel so tiny under him, with his strong thick arms encasing you, the line of his wide shoulders barely decipherable in the dark. Your hand follows the line, appreciating him to be so willing to be touched, always leaning onto your fingers. When it stops at his chest, your fingers mean to play a little but you're stopped in your track by the thudding hitting your palm. It takes you a hot second to realise it's his heart, being so loud and agitated, so expressive from where it's hidden. Of course, someone as reserved as him would have a heart that vocal.
"Your heart's beating so hard." You comment quietly. You don't mean to embarrass him. You don't even mean to reverse the power button hanging between the both of you. Yours in your own chest has to be causing a similar ruckus. But it's his that matters right now. You can't get over the fact that it's for you.
"Stop teasing me." He grumbles. He's not even vexed. He's embarrassed, but you hear the slim smile in his voice, a sheepish one.
"I'm not. You should feel mine." He hums against your mouth, then backs away laughing a bit.
"Smooth."
"It wasn't-" You sigh in defeat. It was not a subtle attempt to have him take care of your tits. Seriously. He's too glad to comply though, you're not one to complain.
You only have a vague notion of time passing, of things progressing. Somehow a second he's suckling on your nipples through the thin material of your top and the next, both of you are naked, panting in each other's face. Your nipples erect and still wet, occasionally rubbing against his chest, two of his thick fingers pumping in between your folds, a third one occasionally teasing the entrance, hinting at a stretch you're so greedy to feel even though you're not sure you can take; your hands wrapped around his shaft, pumping furiously, squeezing hard to have him hiss and curse against your lips, with your thumb teasing the slit of the tender slick head.
His free hand is at your neck, resting there, fingertips pressing in your skin, his thumb toying with your swollen bottom lip whenever he's biting too hard on his own to kiss you properly.
"I'm close..." You whimper, nibbling on the flesh of his thumb. He smiles vaguely at you, hooded eyes unfocused, eyebrows scrunched from pleasure. "I want you, Jungkook."
"Like now?" Fuck. You really have to like the guy a lot. He dares stop fucking you too, all attention now driven to your face. You don't say anything, your eyes telling enough. He nods to himself. "Okay, now. But uh-"
"Jungkook, sometimes you're half-useless." You try not to be mean but you can't help some snarkiness to escape. You have patience. You have a lot of it. But he just makes everything so difficult. How can you be sin and temptation embodied and at the same time, be so fucking clueless? He's like the cure but also the disease.
You roll over on your bed, grabbing a condom from your bedside table that a certain friend I don't need to name provided you with, to then face him again, brandishing the foil packet in his face.
"I'm sorry, I don't mean to-" He seems confused for a second, struggling to get the thing open and you wonder if it's been as long as it's been for you since the last time he's been with someone like that, or if it's been even longer. "but-" Growing even more impatient, you jump on your knees, kneeling next to him, taking the thing from him and tearing it open for him. "You're, like, a lot."
You stay silent for probably too long, frozen, hit by his words probably too intensely.
"In a good way! In a- in a, you're- I like you a lot and it makes me all-" He's talking too much you decide. Stuttering the sweetest things you have a hard time hearing while you're both naked in your bed, so near to get even closer, even more intimate to each other in a way you're too excited about to handle any extra pandering -especially given, you know exactly what he meant. Who would have thought? Jeon Jungkook talking so much you'd have to kiss him quiet.
"How do you like it?" He asks in a whisper, kissing your jaw in a way that makes you shudder. He's making you lightheaded, so dizzy, with the stupid jumps between his sexy lust-filled self and the adorable clueless dude he can also be.
"Just- however you'll have me." You answer, ignoring blatantly that it doesn't mean much.
So he decides. Laying you down on your back, hovering you. The thought that maybe you are made for each other hits you full face then, because that's exactly how you'd like him to have you. Just like earlier, so close, so intimate, sort of intimidating, dominating too. All yours and you, even more, his, with his soft locks caressing your forehead, lips so close you hardly have to make any effort to reach, not that he lets you have your mouth for your own for too long anyway, every few seconds, claiming it with lingering kisses tasting of greed.
You know you're in trouble as soon as the very tip of his cock squeezes in. It's somehow a tight fit, even with his earlier ministrations, even with the ones from this morning that made you feel loose all fucking day. Jungkook only fucks you with the head of his shaft for a while, feeling you so tight around him, savouring the sensation but also worried he'd hurt you if he were to go further.
You're on edge. On edge of a devastating orgasm, already too fucking close, and even if you could blame it on the foreplay, on your hormones or whatever else, he'd know. He'd know it's because of him, because of how much you like him, of how good he makes you feel, how much he turns you on.
You don't really care. He's already panting in your ear, groaning and moaning with tight jaws about how good you feel and how pretty you are, when he's only half of the way inside and that's more than enough. It's kind of too much. Kind of impossible to handle.
It's a mewl to the shell of his ear and the digging of your nails in his firm ass that push him further and balls deep inside you. It feels like discovering new places within yourself, places you haven't reach before alone or with someone else, brings a rush of excitement to your whole body that translates in a vice tight clench around him.
He fucks you so good, it feels so nice, his cock was made for you. His rhythm steady, rather slow but powerful, sending you a tiny bit higher on the bed at each thrust, with one arm slid behind your back, his hand wrapped around the back of your neck to hold you still enough. It's little to no effect but it drives you crazy, having him own you like that. From all those places, his dick, his thigh pressing yours higher, his hands, his mouth, his words. Bewitching, he is. Everything feels and sounds and touches him, the air you breath tastes like him.
You wish it'd last forever but it can't. Like everything that tastes that wondrous.
"Jungkook, I think- uh- gonna come." You lie because you don't think, you know you're about to come even if it's been a couple of minutes since he's started.
Conveniently, the moon chooses this very moment to come out of wherever she was hiding, shining right through the only window of your suite and hitting him right in the face to bring clear light to him and to his grin, the smug grin you've only caught glimpses of. Your nails dig deeper in his flesh, he gasps lightly and bites on his lip but the smirk doesn't leave, even though it looks ridiculous with his heavy droopy gaze, his red cheeks and his heaving. He's as affected as you are. And that's that precise revelation that throws you over the edge. You mewl aloud, turned euphoric with how incredible it feels to have him keep fucking you through your orgasm, with his cock dragging along your tight, sensitive entrance with his movements.
Soon he follows. You don't exactly catch the moment, too lost in your own euphoria to decipher when his begins, but you feel the change in his thrusts, sloppy and harsher, skin slapping louder in the quiet room and once you've both bathed fully in the pleasure, came back to the now calmer, quieter Earth, you realise your ear rings with the ghost of a raw, low scream that certainly was his.
Fuck, you need to hear this again but this time with your full, undivided attention.
But another time.
Right now, you're half dead. Your hearts have just started coming down from their high. With him laying almost entirely on you. The most of his weight he safely pressed to your side but he's clinging to you, the round tip of his nose buried in your neck, hands holding you tight against him and legs intertwined with yours. Your hand has found its way to his hair, the ungodly mess, fingers gently massaging his scalp, rolling the curls in between.
"So warm..." He hums against your skin, almost purrs. You smile lazily. "Never wanna leave."
"You don't have to." It's the exhaustion that renders your filter ineffective. You know you shouldn't have said that. You know even more so when he doesn't say anything back. "For now, I mean." You don't even know how much of this is a lie. If you really were only thinking about this moment, this night or if the future you both know too well, ugly but very real just waiting its moment to play out, was also on your mind. You're too tired and concretely, fucked out, to even think properly.
"I still have four months." It's a poor consolation. You don't mean to spoil it all. After having spent such a precious, wondrous time with him, you don't want to fuck it all up but you can't help your heart from squeezing painfully in your chest, your throat from struggling to swallow down the heavy ball that's lodged up there. Jungkook senses it. You know he does by the way he holds you tighter, pressing one of those kisses, the most tender ones, at the corner of your lips. "We'll figure something out." He says with an assertion you didn't expect and don't know the origins of. Yet, you trust him and the lump in your throat decides to leave for now.
Somehow, persuaded that you and your heart are safe with him.
A/N: i can’t believe i finished this fucking monster. i need sleep. i’m sorry if it’s not super well edited, i did the 33 pages in one go and yeah. also it’s been so long since i wrote actual explicit smut, i have no idea how it turned out. 😳 let me know :)
to anyone who’s made it this far, thank you so, so, so much. you have my infinite gratefulness and i sincerely hope you enjoyed it.
i’m off to sleep, i hope you are having a wonderful day. stay safe, lots of lots of love 💜
#ksmutclub#networkbangtan#btswriterscollective#ggukienet#bts fluff#bts smut#jungkook fluff#jungkook smut#jungkook scenario#jungkook fanfic#bts scenario#bts fanfic#my writing#when posting will stop being so scary lmao
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Shotgun Kisses pt.2 | Bakugou K.
Links: Bakugou x stoner!reader au & Shotgun Kisses (Read these first!!)
Notes: Firstly, I want to thank you all for the positive feedback my work has been receiving! I’m extremely thankful for ya’ll!! I also want to apologize for the delay in my posting; I’ve been traveling this week, and on top of that, dealing with the gas shortage on the east coast (it’s been HELL). But hopefully things will start picking up again soon! As always, my requests are open, so feel free to send in your requests or questions!
Summary: After apologizing to you, Bakugou is still struggling to get over his mistrust of your coworker, Shinsou. When you invite Shinsou to hang with everyone, Bakugou thinks it will be his final straw. That is, until Shinsou makes a move on someone unexpected. And suddenly, everything makes much more sense, and Bakugou looks completely oblivious.
Pairing: Bakugou x reader
Warning(s): 18+!! drug use, language (if you are underage, this fic is not for you!)
Bakugou was trying.
He really, really was.
He trusted you, and he hated fighting with you (especially when it was his fault, and he had to apologize), but damnit, that purple haired bastard wasn’t making it easy on him. Still, Bakugou was making an effort, and that meant he was visiting you at work, even though Shinsou was there, too.
“Hello,” Shinsou drawled, a lazy, but definitely teasing, grin spread across his lips. He was leaned up against the counter, half of his purple hair tied back in a knot at the back of his head. “How can I help you?”
Bakugou narrowed his eyes, taking a deep breath in like Kirishima had taught him. His hands were wound into fists, shoved into his jacket pockets. “Just my regular.”
Shinsou hummed in response, turning to shout over his shoulder, “Y/n! Your loverboy is here!”
Bakugou grit his teeth, willing himself not to snap back at him. Technically, he wasn’t wrong. But he hated the teasing lilt to the other man’s voice.
As per usual, his anger melted away - mostly - when you popped your head around the corner, from the storage room, smiling brightly. “’Suki!”
As much as Bakugou hated your job, you did look cute in your apron, and he was admittedly fond of the free coffee.
You bounced over to him, definitely hyped up on too much caffeine, and wrapped your arms around him. “Hi.” You said, looking up at him.
He squeezed you against him, pulling you in for a kiss, to your surprise. Normally, Bakugou was hesitant when it came to PDA. Of course, the cafe was almost empty, and it wasn’t much of a secret that Bakugou was turning up the heat in front of Shinsou.
“You want your usual?” You ask sweetly, when he pulls away, dopey grin on your face.
Shinsou, who had slipped away during the kiss, calls over his shoulder, “Already on it!”
“Try not to spit in it.” Bakugou says, lowly.
Shinsou lets out a low chuckle, “I’ll try to contain myself.”
Apparently, this banter is friendly enough, because you laugh along with him.
“You mind if I take my break now, ‘Toshi?”
Bakugou swallows down the burst of jealousy at the nickname, fists tightening in his pocket.
“Yeah, no problem,” Shinsou tells you, as he sets the coffee down on the counter. “There you go. One coffee, hazelnut cream, no sugar. Extra bitter, just like you.”
Bakugou sneers at him, snatching the coffee from the counter and grabbing your hand to pull you along behind him. The two of you end up in the alleyway behind the shop, sneaking through the ‘employees only’ door. Bakugou sips the coffee, wishing it wasn’t so good. But damn, if Shinsou didn’t know his coffee. As far as Bakugou was concerned, that was the only thing the guy was good at. (Of course, he didn’t really know him that well, at all).
“You’re very broody today.” You say softly, looking over at him from where you leaned against the brick wall. “Something on your mind?”
Bakugou rolls his eyes, sipping his coffee again. “M’fine. Just... tired, that’s all.”
You hum, fumbling with one of your bracelets. You gaze up at him, grinning, “Do I need to call Kirishima to get it out of you?”
“Tch,” He scoffed, marching over to where you stood and leaning down over you. “Smartass.”
He leans down, capturing your lips in a soft kiss. You both taste like coffee, and Bakugou recognizes the faint, bitter taste of marijuana on your tongue too. He pulls away, raising a brow.
“What, rolling up before work, you delinquent?”
You giggled, shoving his shoulder playfully, though it’s not enough to move him away from you. “Maybe. Gonna rat me out?”
“Hm,” His lips barely brush against yours, bumping his nose against yours. “I’m sure you could convince me not to.”
“Yeah? That easy, hm?” You say, leaning forward to kiss him again, but he pulls just out of your reach. You pout, and he laughs lowly.
“I never said it would be easy.” He answers, smirking.
You feel your breath hitch again, and his lips are back on yours.
“Mm, Kats, love you, but I need to get back to work.” You mumble in between kisses.
Bakugou nips your bottom lip, but concedes, pulling away with a sigh. “Sure I can’t keep you occupied just a little while longer?”
“And people say I’m the bad influence.” You tease, laughing. “Sorry, babe. Can’t. Besides, I know you’re supposed to be getting lunch with the guys, and I’m not gonna be responsible for making you late.”
“Screw ‘em.” He says, planting another kiss on the corner of your mouth.
You smile up at him, shaking your head. “What am I gonna do with you, Bakgou Katsuki?”
“Keep me, I hope.”
He’d meant it as a joke, but it came out much more serious than he’d meant. Thankfully, you don’t press him on it.
“Yeah, and what’s in it for me?” You tease, poking his stomach. You stretch up on your tiptoes to place another kiss on his jaw, voice softer than before, “I’m here till you don’t want me, Katsuki.”
Bakugou kisses the top of your head, “That’ll never happen.”
You turn to go back inside, stopping in the doorway to look back at him. “You coming to Sero and Denki’s tonight?”
“We’ll see.” Bakugou grunts.
“Mhm,” You grin. “I’ll see you there, then. Bye, Kats!”
...
By the time Bakugou shows up, he’s the last one there. Even Jirou, infamous for showing up fashionably late to their hangouts, was already inside, sitting with you and Mina on the floor. The three of you were deep in conversation, clearly already more than buzzed - your giggles and half-lidded eyes gave you away.
Bakugou felt the tug of a smile on his lips, watching you. He was glad the day was over. Finally, he could just relax.
And thats when he saw him.
Shinsou Hitoshi was sitting on the couch, leaning over a wide-eyed Denki to get the lighter off the table.
Bakugou tried. He was trying. But even still, his hands shook with anger.
Kirishima met his gaze, shaking his head, and he didn’t have to speak out loud for Bakugou to hear his usual, ‘Breathe, man. Everything’s fine. Deep breaths. It’s not worth it.’
“Bakugou!” Mina shrieked, “You made it! I told you he’d be here, Sero, you owe me $5!”
Bakugou scowled. “You bet against me?”
Sero shrugs sheepishly.
You grin up at him from your spot by the girls, and Bakugou quickly crossed the room to sit by your side, ignoring the intruder on the couch. As he took a seat, he pulled you close to lean against his shoulder, and you instinctively reached for his hand without stopping your conversation.
“C’mon, Jirou, you should invite Yoamomo next time!” You were saying, “How will you ever get to know her if you don’t talk to her?”
Jirou, uncharacteristically flustered, shook her head. “No way. Absolutely not. Momo doesn’t seem the type to... ya know, any of this. We aren’t really her crowd.”
“So? She likes you doesn’t she?” Mina offers, puffing smoke.
Jirou’s cheeks turn a brighter shade of pink, and she slouches down more. “I dunno... Pass it here, Min.”
“I’m sure we could behave ourselves enough for a night.” You tease, grinning, “We could have a movie night! Totally sober, if that’s what you’re worried about, Kyo.”
A loud groan cuts into their conversation, from across the room, “Yeah, speak for yourself.” Denki says.
“As if you could get through a movie night totally sober, y/n.” Sero snickers.
“Hey!” You shout back, sticking your tongue out at him.
“He might have a point, man,” Shinsou cuts in. He’d been so quiet, Bakugou had almost forgotten he was there. Of course, his luck ran out. “Y/n can’t even make it through a shift sober.”
The room erupts into laughter, though Bakugou stays quiet, rolling his eyes.
“Not true!” You say, blushing as you lower your voice, “You weren’t supposed to know about that.”
Shinsou’s laugh is apparently contagious, as he says, “Are you kidding?!” He breaks into an eerily accurate impression of you, “Hey, man, what can I get for ya? Aw, totally, nice choice! Have you tried the muffins, man, they’re sooo good.”
You burry your head in your hands as everyone joins in on the joke, leaning back into Bakugou to hide. “Fuck you, dude! Fuck you!”
“Holy shit!” Denki and Sero are gasping for breath, “How are you so good at that, man?”
Shinsou grins slyly, reminding Bakugou of the cheshire cat (another reason he doesn’t trust the asshole). “Hey, a man can’t give away all his secrets, huh?”
Bakugou tightens his hold around your waist, mouth downturned into an unhappy scowl.
“I think a movie night would be nice,” Kirishima changes the subject, and Bakugou sends him a small smile in thanks. “I’m sure we’d all like to meet Momo, and if she’s as sweet as you say she is, she’ll totally go for it!”
“Yeah,” Mina says, wrapping an arm lazily around Jirou, “Besides, you’re a total catch, babe! She’ll love you!”
“Thanks guys,” Jirou responds quietly, passing the joint to you. “I’ll think about it.”
You take a few drags, offering to Bakugou, who shakes his head. You don’t push it, blowing the smoke away from the two of you.
“Man, and here I was, thinking you might finally relax some, Bakugou.” Shinsou comments.
Across the room, Denki has slouched against the other man’s shoulder, his feet propped up in Sero’s lap.
“The fuck did you say?” Bakugou snaps, glaring.
Shinsou chuckles, “Relax, dude, I’m kidding.”
“Yeah?” Bakugou growls, snatching the joint from between your fingers. “Fucking whatever.”
He takes a long drag, face red as he resists the urge to cough out of spite. Shinsou raises a brow, mouth twitching into a smirk. His fingers are in Denki’s hair, scratching lightly at his head, and the blonde looks like he could fall asleep any minute, a sleepy smile on his face. Bakugou feels an odd surge of jealousy, and frustration. These are his friends. You’re his girl. What the fuck is this guy playing at?
As Bakugou goes quiet, eyebrows furrowed and face drawn into a fierce scowl, and shoot Shinsou a look. He sighs, rolling his eyes, but silently agrees to lay off.
“You okay?” You ask, leaning back and placing a light kiss on Bakugou’s jaw.
He yanks you into his lap with a huff, pouting.
It takes everything in you not to giggle at him when he’s like this (it’s cute, okay?) but you knew that would only irritate him more.
“’Suki.” You coo, quiet so no one else can hear you, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He mutters, frown deepening.
“But-”
“I said it’s nothing, y/n.”
You sigh, giving up and leaning back against his chest. Why did he have to be so stubborn?
Besides, you aren’t stupid. You know he’s unhappy because Shinsou is here. And, by all means, Shinsou is being an asshole. But he’s your friend, and a really good friend (only a friend). You just want the two to get along, and you want to show your boyfriend that he has nothing to worry about! But, as per usual, both boys are being... difficult, to say the least.
After a few minutes it becomes clear that Bakugou’s mood isn’t going to improve, so you go back to your conversation with Mina and Jirou, absentmindedly rubbing your thumb over his knuckles. Eventually, he starts to relax, but remains quiet. He’s too stubborn to admit that you know how to calm him down, after all. And, besides, he can’t risk the guys telling him he’s going ‘soft’ (his words, not yours).
As your high reaches its peak, you forget about the exchange almost completely. You’ve moved to lay your head in Bakugou’s lap, staring up at him. You reach for his hand, bringing it to rest on your head and he rolls his eyes, fingers gently scratching your scalp. You smile up at him lazily, blowing him a kiss.
With his hands in your hair, you feel yourself begin to drift off, the conversations around you fading into a low buzz in the background.
Suddenly, Bakugou’s hands stop.
“Kats,” You whine, one eye cracking open to see what was wrong.
Bakugou’s mouth is agape, brows raised, and face red.
“Kats? You okay?”
He doesn’t answer, and you follow his gaze to the couch, where Denki has climbed into Shinsou’s lap. The blonde’s fingers are threaded into his hair, Shinsou’s firmly gripping his waist, and they’re kissing. You sit up, a laugh bubbling in your throat.
“See, bubs?” You plant a small, teasing kiss to his lips. “Told ya you have nothing to worry about.”
#Bakugou Katsuki#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#mha#bnha#bakugou katsuki x reader#mha imagines#bnha imagines#bakugou katsuki imagines#bakugou x stoner!reader#my hero academia imagines#boku no hero academia imagines#bakusquad#Kirishima Eijirou#Ashido Mina#Sero Hanta#denki kaminari#shinsou hitoshi#jirou kyoka#mha headcanons#BNHA Headcanons#stoner bakusquad#modern au#college au#bakugou fluff#bakugou is bad at feelings#soft bakugou#my hero academia headcanons#bakusquad imagines#katsuki bakugou
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Thin Walls - Chapter 4
© : please DO NOT copy or post my work anywhere.
summary : you return to the compound and find out the wall between you and natasha’s room is pretty thin
warning/s : language + implied smut/sexual references
<---chapter 3 / chapter 5--->
natasha romanoff x reader masterlist
You didn’t get an opportunity to talk to Natasha properly other than a quick ‘thank you’ when Steve explained that you brought her back. But soon after he gave her the spare suit he packed with him, Steve confessed his secret plan. He wasn’t coming back. He thought about this the second he saw Peggy when him and Tony went back to get the space stone and Pym particles. Natasha didn’t take it well; she didn’t bother hiding her tears and just let them soak into Steve’s chest as she sobbed against him. You decided to give them some space and walk down the mountain, exploring this planet - or what’s left of it.
There isn’t much to explore - just rocks and puddles. But whatever you touch, those shades of purple radiate through. Even as you squat down and run your fingers through the water, you can feel the vibrations. Now you’re beginning to think the dark magic isn’t just on this planet but inside you again. The only way to fight it is to literally fight it and overpower it with your magic. You always thought your powers were ‘positive’ and bright considering they were yellow, the colour that represents happiness. It used to make Jasmine laugh when you magically wrote up things to entertain her, whether it was an ice cream sundae or an oversized plush toy. You hear Natasha’s footsteps behind you before she speaks.
“He’s gone. I’m not sure if he’s ever coming back, but at least he’ll be happy.” When you turn around, you finally get an up close look at her. There’s a moment of silence as she tilts her head and observes you just as you’re observing her. She’s changed overtime, no longer the deadly assassin that’s paranoid that everyone is a threat, but old habits die hard. She still wants to make sure you can be trusted.
Her hair’s braided, swirls of red and blonde resting over her shoulder. The blonde makes her look softer than you remember, her features more gentle. You find yourself closing your hand in a tight fist to avoid reaching out just to feel how soft she really is. You can’t see the green in her eyes as clearly as you saw in her photos, on TV, the media - there’s nothing but darkness here. But they’re still beautiful, they’re still deep and staring into your soul, not in an intimidating way but in a curious way, like she wants to understand you. Her lips are open a little, breathing in and out to calm her beating heart after she’s just been crying and running to make her way down here from the cliff. You decide then and there that she is what was keeping this planet beautiful, and you’re eager to see how beautiful she looks with light shining down on her.
“Everyone deserves happiness. Come on, let’s go home.” You step towards her and press the button to put on your helmet. She looks at you confused and you open the helmet up with a sigh. She steps forward into a little stream of purple and blue light and she glows. You can see her features better in this light and can’t help stepping forward again to get a closer look at her full lips, her soft eyes, the curious look she’s giving you as her eyebrows furrow together. This is her colour.
“Are we not taking the jet?” Her tone is soft, like she’s already trusting you. Questioning you, but trusting you. The way you’re looking at her with nothing but admiration in your eyes is enough to tell her you’re one of the good ones.
“No. I’ll leave it just in case Gamora comes back.” You answer her with a sad smile remembering how angry Starlord was at you. You hope she’s with them now; maybe that will explain the purple magic at your fingertips, ready to burst.
“In case?” Natasha steps towards you, even closer now, and you step forward too, feeling drawn to her. She’s not a magical being; what you feel isn’t her magic, but yours. Your magic has been trying to tell you something from the moment you came back and felt the need to march to the compound and help.
“I haven’t done something this big before, so I have no idea what’s going to happen in the future. The stone keeper is dead, meaning there needs to be no sacrifice to take the stone. We got here before future Thanos did, so he wouldn’t have needed to kill Gamora to get it. But, as Bruce keeps telling me, changing the past doesn’t change the future.” You explain to her and she sighs, slightly overwhelmed with all the information. You press the button again and she does the same, taking the Pym particles Steve gave her.
“I guess we’ll find out soon enough.” She says with a small smile on her face. It looks slightly distorted through the glass, but you still think she looks breathtaking and you smile back.
“In a couple seconds, actually. Come on, let’s sync up.”
“Nat!” Bruce screams out, running towards her. You think you hear cracks as he thumps on the ground but you ignore it and watch with a smile on your face as the two hug. There’s no one else around but you hear faint squeals and cries from upstairs. Natasha and Bruce as still hugging when you take your helmet off and unzip your suit - the goddamn thing is so tight and itchy you want to get it off as soon as you possibly can. He gives you a silent thank you with a nod and gentle eyes over Natasha’s shoulder and you decide to give them some space despite how badly you want to sit down with her and talk to her about how she feels. You’re not sure what the effects of being magically brought back to life are, but you assume they’re not great.
Sighing as you step outside with the suit pushed down to your waist exposing your black tank top, you take a deep breath of fresh air. It’s different here to how it was on Vormir; there’s life, sunshine, birds squeaking to get your attention. As you look up at the bright sun, you see something small but fast blocking it. You squint your eyes and raise a hand over your forehead to look closely and see it’s the jet you left behind. The main entrance door to the distant left slams open and you see Starlord running out followed by his team. Others trail behind and you finally see Tony standing with Pepper’s arm around his waist to help, refusing to let go as if he’ll disappear any moment. The jet lands and Gamora walks out, bloodied and bruised, and falls into Starlord’s arms in exhaustion. While Thanos didn’t need to kill her, he likely beat her and left her stranded as the only purpose she served him was taking him to the stone.
“You did a really selfless thing, you know.” Jumping at the husky tone behind you, you raise a hand to your beating heart with a silent chuckle at your reaction. Nat comes to stand next to you, suit off with her widow outfit under that she was wearing when she came back to life.
“Well, I really wanted to meet the Black Widow, so was it really selfless or selfish?” You both laugh at that as she turns to look at you with a smirk. She’s even more attractive in the sunlight, eyes naturally seductive, lips almost pouty.
“Want an autograph?” You smirk right back at her and turn to face her with your arms crossed over your chest. She’s not as subtle as she thinks she is when her eyes quickly glance down to look at your pushed up cleavage. You just about kept your composure to respond to her.
“I was hoping I’d get a lot more than that.” Her brow rises up and just as her mouth opens to respond back with what you assume would be a line as sweet as honey, a hand is placed on your shoulder and turns you around quickly. Before you can even see who it is, you’re pulled into a tight hug and feel stubble rub against your cheek.
“I don’t know who you are, or how you did this, but I owe you my life. You just gave my daughter her father back. Thank you, Y/N.” He sounds relieved as his voice cracks a little, more emotional than you ever thought he would sound when you’ve seen his rebellious moments in court and during interviews. You smile into his chest and hug him back, taking the comfort and thanks he provides. Although you did this because it was the right thing to do, it’s nice for people to acknowledge your efforts. When he pulls back you see he’s not wearing his glasses. His eyes are soft and kind towards you, but he doesn’t look as exhausted as you thought he would.
“How do you feel?” He laughs almost in shock before stepping back with his arms out giving you a little spin. Pepper’s watching from afar with a smile on her face and Morgan hugging her legs.
“Amazing! Like, really fucking amazing. Did you give me a boost or something? I feel like I could do that fight 5 times over.” Bruce walks out from behind you and taps Tony on the shoulder before walking over to the others celebrating this win.
“Please don’t.” You laugh together and hear Natasha’s faint giggle behind you. She missed the fight but you’re sure the others will tell her all about it. “So…you’re okay with it? I talked to Pepper beforehand just to make sure, and she picked those words and said you wouldn’t min-” You’re a little nervous as you reference his immortality. Pepper had explained to you how Tony had some…darker habits and tendencies to get himself in situations where he wouldn’t come out alive. But she also explained how that darkness had drifted away when Morgan was born. They were happy before this, and she knew Tony would just want a chance to live a normal life with his family, no matter the costs.
“I’m more than okay with it, Y/N. Because of you, the world is always going to have Iron Man, and Morgan is always going to have her father to protect her. Gamora’s back, Natasha’s back, and Thanos is gone. You’ve done an incredible thing here. We owe you everything. Please, stay here. if you don’t mind, I’d like to run some tests? Just to make sure you’re doing okay after using up all that energy to bring us back.”
“I-I don’t know. I don’t want to intrude or anything.”
“You’re not. You belong here, Y/N. Stay. Please.” Natasha breathes out behind you and you feel a ghost of her arms wrapped around your waist, as if it’s natural for her to be doing so. You almost lean back into her imagined figure before stopping yourself at the realisation that she’s stood next to you now, coming to look into your eyes and hold your arm, pleading you to stay. Enough people have left her.
“Okay. Okay, yes, I’d love to.” Her lips stretch into a wide smile as she nods and bites her bottom lip. Your eyes are fixated on it as she drags her teeth and it stretches before plopping down, a little wet. When you look back up at her eyes, the green is a darker shade and she steps back with a subtle gulp, gesturing to the door.
“Great! Party tonight then!” Everyone groans at that but he hushes them quickly. “Come on, you have plenty time to rest, don’t be boring.” He laughs loudly walking towards the group and you and Natasha walk back through the side door to make your way upstairs. The elevator ride is silent, but there’s definitely undeniable heat between the two of you. You just put it down to your magic radiating, because there is no way Natasha Romanoff is attracted to you. She’s…she’s, well, her. She’s breathtakingly beautiful, a lesbian’s wet dream with her perfectly sculpted body, and an assassin. Everyone has fantasied about that. Everyone.
“Oh. We’re neighbours.” She says with a nervous laugh and you give her a tight smile in return, looking down at your feet. “Right. I guess I’ll see you at the party? I got some cleaning up to do.” You nod with a wide smile but just as she opens her door you remember something.
“Hey, do you have anything I can borrow? To wear. I didn’t bring my clothes with me…kinda rushed here a day ago.” She turns to you slowly with a knowing smirk and a tilt of her head.
“Can’t you write it?” You freeze after hearing that, closing your eyes and letting out a breathy chuckle at how stupid you are.
“Oh. I forgot about that.” She laughs back and opens her door and walks in, but peaks her head out before closing the door to say one last thing.
“If you wanted to get into my clothes just say so, Y/L/N.” Her tone is raspy, seductive, and so suggestive that you almost choke on your breath.
“Funny. I’ll see you later.” You only give her a laugh before practically jumping into your room and slamming the door.
You heard her before seeing her. Turns out the walls actually are thin; thin enough to hear the music she plays out loud…and thin enough to hear the sounds she’s trying to drown out with the music. You question why the hell the walls are this thin when Stark is the one who funded the compound, but those thoughts quickly leave as your mind is filled with Natasha’s moans and groans. You’re concerned for a second, standing up to listen closely in case she’s hurt. You can barely hear them and for a second you’re not sure if it’s just the song, but it’s definitely subtle. You feel like a creep standing on your bed with your ear pressed to the wall, so much so that when you hear a particularly loud whine you jump off to get as far away as possible, marching to the bathroom to take a shower.
“Fuck!” You let out a shriek at the cold water that hits you, but honestly you needed that. Hearing her made your cheeks hot, your hands sweat and caused a throbbing ache between your legs. You didn’t think it was possible to be this attracted to a person after just meeting them, even more so after bringing them back to life on a dark, depressing planet. You feel a little guilty at that as you think this is probably the worst time for you to be feeling this way, sexualising her like this.
After fighting the urge to relieve yourself too, you hop out of the shower shivering cold and put on clothes as fast you can. Unfortunately, the only clothes you packed were thin, dirty and had holes in them. You’ll just magically write your wardrobe contents into the ones here. You still have time before the party, so after picking out some comfy joggers you decide to finally get some rest and nap. Needless to say, Natasha’s moans were in your dreams.
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