#but it is very fun being able to literally drag and drop different colours in to the pattern

[brandogenius]

I don’t mean to bother you but whenever you get a chance I can’t wait to see more ya and phoebe content I miss them so much! much love !

ofc!!! something different today!

‼️RPF‼️

BLURB - phoebe & younger artist - record store day

- phoebe bringing ya to their first record store day!! i mean phoebe is R E A D Y. id like to say phoebe knows a lot about RSD so when ya said they never participated / never had the chance to get the vinyls in stores phoebe was like ‘ nu uh’

- phoebe takes record store day very seriously. i’m talking like queuing up at early hours, literally camping to be first or second in line. bringing ya with them would be easy.

- phoebe literally collecting ya and bringing them to her house for the night before record store say “so we can go and queue together” i can just see younger artist walking into phoebes house like woah :ooo and then looks to see phoebes bags literally packed and ready.

- gear, blankets, food, water, god forbid maybe a tent too. “we want to get those limited edition vinyls ok?” pfc ya agrees because they want to as well.

- consider it a bonding session with phoebe. one of those rare moments when there’s no gigs today or tomorrow that you’re able to do whatever you want for a bit before going back to tour. ya was able to spend the small little break between legs of the tour with the boys and muna.

- honestly i can see it where they don’t even sleep 😭 they spend the night at phoebes watching tv shows, probably watching tiktok drama (those reddit parkour videos) and stayinf awake till 4am then phoebes like “lets go” and ya is like “ITS 4AM” and phoebes like “so?”

- they get ready, bo drops them off and they just set out camp. “baby’s first record store day” “shut the fuck up” “someone’s tired”

- “whatever you do. when the doors open just run. don’t look back just run- life or death situation” phoebe giving ya the run down.

- i can imagine when a line starts to form, phoebe has a sharpie in her bag and does the fan line thing where she puts a number on everyone’s hand to indicate what number everyone is in the queue (ya is 1 phoebe is 2nd)

- phoebe going like “you hungry kid? i’ll get us something to eat” and goes off god knows where and comes back with fucking donuts like :D

- honestly it’s one of the wilder / chaotic things younger artist has done with muna or the boys but they enjoy it. ya enjoys doing stuff with any of them, / being invited along to do sfuff (it totally doesn’t make them cry nooooo)

- “i’ll deck someone if they steals that muna vinyl” “i’m sure if you asked katie, she’d give you one for free” “but it’s fun to camp out and be a normal human sometimes”

- at some points some fans notice both of you and come up for photos. ya automatically taking the phone to snap a photo of the fan and phoebe until the fans like “come in the photo with us!” and ya is like me? really??? and phoebe just drags ya in like “of course silly”

- “are you cold? take my blanket, i’m not cold” and proceeds to literally shove the blanket at reader

- once the doors open and ya & phoebe get the records they want. i can see phoebe literally going to celebrate by going for brunch.

- ordering coffee and sandwiches while both ya and phoebe gush over the vinyls and the colours. “can i see it?. we can trade sometime, you give me a loan of this vinyl and i’ll give you this. consider it co- parenting”

[mctreeleth]

If I had a housemate to film them for me I think I could make some pretty good tiktoks about the overwhelmingly debilitating indecision that hits when you need to decide between two almost imperceptibly different triangle sizes in your quilt design, but I don’t, so you just get a weird text post instead.

Because like, some colours look better on my screen with bigger triangles, but my screen colours are an imperfect representation of the fabric colours, so I can’t trust that! 

Is it crazy to buy 3.4 metres of fabric twice? Is it crazy to cut and sew 241 pieces together twice? I think that one or the other will work better depending on the difference in tonal value between the 4 shades, but it is hard to accurately judge the tonal value of the fabric choices while standing in the aisle at Spotlight, and even harder to do it while looking at the photos of the quilt solids I took there last week. Would it be terribly cruel of me to go to Spotlight and buy 10cm each of the maybe 65 solids colours they have for reference? When is Spotlight the least busy? Is it ever not busy? is it ever quiet enough that the staff are so bored that they are willing to cut 65 pieces of fabric for a $40 sale? 

Should I just make the one that is easier to cut? 

I should just make the one that is easier to cut.

[jimines]

Whats actually happened between you and taemaknae? I read about it on the tea blog and still confused

This is an insanely long story so I'm going to put it below the cut so for anyone interested in this absolute shit show, continue on.

Essentially, I posted these headers about a month ago:

It was a set of like 8 colours and it was the first time I had ever posted any headers or anything. The issue nic had with these, was the ripped paper bottom. Because apparently you can trademark that. I had asked a (now ex) “friend” of mine if she knew where I could find the ripped paper effect because I had seen the effect on the header of her network blog and I had been trying to find a similar thing for months and google images never gave me anything good. She ended up referring me to google images anyways and after like an hour of dedicated searching, I found this ripped paper effect and used it. This ex “friend” went on to tell another friend of mine that I had "asked where nicole gets her resources for her headers" and then screenshotted my dm as "proof", which still confuses me because I never mentioned nicole there lmao. I've seen the screenshot.

Tell me where I said nicole. It was literally just a question born from seeing the header they had on their network lmao. I feel it’s important to mention I didn’t know this person ran said network at that time, which is why i said “these people”.

This other friend then came to me and just said my headers "may be seen as similar to nic's” and said she noticed it on her own and never mentioned my other “friend” approaching her. I was confused because other than that ripped paper effect that I know many people on tumblr use, I saw no similarities. Nic's headers are usually more complex and more than just a coloured background with a little effect in it. I just wanted to make some simple headers for fun because I was bored. But, regardless, I messaged nic about it to make sure she didn't feel the same way. I told her a friend of mine was worried nic might think my headers are similar to her's and I assured her that if she found them similar I would take them down, no questions asked. Nic told me she was surprised this friend brought it up and told me that it was entirely up to me if I found the headers similar. She never once told me she felt they were the same, never mentioned anything about them, she insisted it was up to me to do as I pleased. So, since I genuinely found no similarities, I left them up.

About a week went by and things between nic and I were fine, or so I thought, based off the fact that she was interacting with my posts, sending me cute asks and replying to a lot of my comments and stuff being kind and whatnot. Then, I decided to post a small list of my creations and the series I had running at the time. 

After that, all of a sudden I got an influx of rude hate anons:

To anyone I mentioned the anons to, they agreed with me, you cannot trademark circular icons. This anon also accused me saying “just the fact that you had an anxiety attack about it proves you copied them” Like no sweetie, it’s called three strangers walked into my house and I got anxious.

Despite me not seeing the issue, I messaged nic, assuming she wouldn't care about the icons (it wasn't like I was taking her exact work and copying and pasting them as my own) and that made her very upset. When she responded to me, she was incredibly heated and gave off the vibe she was waiting for me to message her about it. 

She said things like "this has actually been bothering me for a while", "i expected you to be able to read between the lines and delete the headers", "i don't know who that anon was but clearly they recognize my style". For starters, she never told me that she was annoyed with me, she was being very kind to me publicly. And I have no idea how I was meant to “read between the lines” of what she said especially considering how kind she was to me the following days. I also never accused her of knowing this anon, she just insisted it wasn't her and she didn't know them right off the bat. She also insinuated that I copied my gifs from others as well, which ticked me off because I made my 100+ layer psd myself thank you very much. But I kept my cool, and I told her I had no idea she felt the way she did, and I told her I would delete the headers (which i did as the conversation was going on), and that I would stop posting my icons and bringing attention to them because no one ever paid it any mind before that point. And I asked her “please tell me straight up the next time you have an issue with me because I am generally pretty dumb with social cues”, I have my adhd to thank for that. And instead of replying, she just blocked me. And conveniently, the hate anons stopped dead right after we blocked each other and I haven't received any since.

Also, these are the kinds of icons I posted:

Looks pretty generic and idk, universal, right?

Then, as I've recently found out today, she was in an "anti-loverjimin" groupchat with at least 2 other bloggers. 

Which explains why this all went and fell into place. I know who the two other bloggers are because of what happened two days later but I won't name them just yet, but these two people had been "friends" with me for several months. So, a day or two after nic blocked me, all of a sudden some good friends of mine were blocking me and not talking to me when I asked what was going on. I found out soon after it was because nicole and those two now ex “friends” of mine had taken old dms I sent them and were showing them to people. And I will go into detail about them but I won't name the people they are about for privacy reasons.

Before I move on, to clarify some lies nic has been spreading about me, I never once shit talked nicole to my friends. One of these ex friends also said I was trying to get people on my side. I would have reacted to this all very very differently if that were the case. I would be dragging everyone through the fucking dirt but I don't get off on drama or micromanaging what my mutuals do. My issues are with these people, if you're still friends with them that's your decision i could not care less. So, back to it, the only thing I said about nic was that she and I had a stupid small fight over icons and that she was spreading lies about me, based off of what nic said to jordan.

That exact message, or slight variations of it, was sent to anyone I interacted with because I didn't know if nic was going to stop at jordan or try and get to everyone I fucking knew lmao. Some of the people I messaged this to told ME nic had done this kind of thing before, that she has sent hate anons, launched hate campaigns, cancelled people, etc. Over stupid shit like icons lmao.

Here are some responses I received after I mentioned nicole:

And nic or one of her friends also took it upon themselves to send anons to that tea blog to blow shit up and named everyone and made it an even bigger mess when they saw no one was actively trying to fight me after the dms got out. 

I also love that in this following ask, they named my two “friends” that were behind the whole dm drama and backstabbed me, as well as two other people I never badmouthed, that story was twisted. But we’ll get into those details shortly.

And she also told people I clout chased big blogs and only cared about notes. At one point, yes, I did care a lot about my statistics. However, never once did I think clout chasing was worth my fucking time or energy, Nic is the biggest clout chaser on this damn site and there are receipts of that, ask jordan lmao. And I couldn’t give two shits about my statistics anymore lmao, much less anxiety that way. Do I still crave validation sometimes? Sure. But it's not a driving force of my tumblr experience like it used to be.

But, moving on to the dms, the first one was sent when I first came back to tumblr full-time and didn't understand why people self reblogged things, I found the pretence of self reblogging annoying and greedy and I complained about it and it was a comment fuelled by two bloggers that i would see sr a lot on my dash. But I never thought THEY were annoying, as these people are saying I did, it was self reblogging I found annoying and as you can see I have come to understand why people sr and I do it myself too. I didn't even know these two bloggers at this time either. That dm was cropped to hide the fact that this "friend" agreed with me and hid the date as well so it seemed recent, and was sent to one of the bloggers I mentioned as an example, someone I had since become good friends with. 

I didn’t befriend one of the people I mentioned there until mid to late June. That friendship is now over thanks to this drama and all the lies. The second friend of mine they went after was never spoken about in dms, they went and turned her against me through lies and manipulation so that friendship has ended too. And while those two were doing that, nic went off to try and turn jordan against me.

There was a particular user on here that I did say some nasty things about but we weren't friends, as many people have been made to believe. I was particularly mad at this person in those dms and was hurtful, I admit, and I have since apologized and owned up to all of it to these people. I did call them fake and/or two-faced. 

And what in the gassing me up bullshit was their response though lmao. I also sent this following dm before I even talked about the issue with this person. They urged me to continue and to name drop the person, and I stupidly thought they were trustworthy.

My reasoning for what I said wasn't unwarranted though, I don't make a habit of going around shit-talking people, unless they do something to me first. I vent when I am upset and this person had sent me a passive aggressive ask and then denied sending it when I asked and I thought that was just very fake, especially since she was so kind to me in dms before the ask came in. But all of these dms were cropped too to hide timestamps and responses, and in most cases, like those screenshots prove, these "friends" either gassed me up or egged me on to continue ranting or to name the people i was mad at and they had agreed with me on several, several occasions. Turns out they were trying to get dirt on me to use in their cancel campaign. But the point is, nic has made me out to be this horrible person that befriends "big blogs" (an overrated statement) and then shit talks them behind their back without remorse. Yet it was one person I said rude things about and I, again, owned up to it all and apologized to them the first day. I would've done it sooner had I a) remembered feeling the way I did all those months ago or remembered the dms themselves or b) felt that way still after meeting them. But neither is the case.

I find it really amusing though that these people wanted things to be kept quiet and didn’t want anyone they spoke to to talk to me about it because I was going to “out them on my blog” and “make a big scene”, then they three went and made it a big fucking scene and ruined my friendships. I’m familiar with this pattern of manipulation as it has happened to me in real life before and it’s the most childish bullshit to witness.

Before this callout day for nic, I had never once been directly rude to or about her, same goes for those ex “friends” that betrayed my trust and friendship. The fact that they plotted against me in a group chat while still actively talking to me and being all buddy buddy is just disgusting. Both of them were talking to me that day at the same time they were sharing the dms and shit-talking me to my friends. But yeah, that's my side, the untwisted side, of the whole story. I tried to be mature and talk to nic and when I didn't do what she wanted me to do, she blocked me and launched the hate campaign with dms and the power of photoshop. I’ve been hesitant to make any of this public because it was meant to be a silent ordeal but I’ve grown tired of her constantly publicizing everything without consequence while I remain silent like I promised.

[mollymauk-teafleak]

honey don't feed it

Just some Hades smut! Please reblog and comment over on Ao3!

------

Thanatos has told his love a thousand times to be careful when overindulging in boons from the Olympians. Too many, too much from one god and he starts to get some strange side effects.

Ares' boons make him angry. Dionysius' made him laugh.

Aphrodite's do something entirely different.

------

Thanatos read the note a few times over, hearing it in his lover’s voice.

I need you. Please come home. I love you.

“Let me guess,” the grin on his twin’s face was far too smug for Than’s liking, “You’re taking your break now?”

Than gave him the kind of dark scowl that had been cowing the unruly dead for years but had never seemed to work on anyone who actually knew him. He folded up the note and stowed it in one of the many hidden pockets of his flowing robes. I need you.

“I don’t just drop everything and go running when Zagreus clicks his fingers,” he muttered. Please come home.

“Never said you did,” Hypnos shrugged, leaning back and putting his slippered feet on the desk in a way that was quite unprofessional, not that Than would look anything but petulant if he said so, “Just thought your face really lit up when I said Zag had left you a message…”

Than really hoped his cowl hid enough of his face that his blush couldn’t be seen. Something about Hypnos’ widening grin told him his hopes were in vain. I love you.

“There’s a gap in my schedule,” he sniffed, sheathing his scythe and gathering his robes with as much dignity as he could muster, “An unrelated gap.”

“Sure,” Hypnos shrugged, marking it down on the time sheets, “I’ll tell anyone looking for you to check Zag’s place.”

I need you. Please come home. I love you.

“Best not, I think,” Than said flatly, turning away quickly so he didn’t have to see the expression on Hypnos’ face.

He’d catch up on the work he missed later.

He knew what the problem was as soon as he walked into their chambers. Their chambers, not Zagreus’, it had taken some time to get used to thinking of it that way. But when he hadn’t slept in the Chthonic Wing once since they’d begun openly courting, when half of the items in the close, comfortable room were his own, when the word home evoked images of this place and the godling he shared it with, he’d settled into it.

It wasn’t a smell, not exactly. But it was a presence in the air, like a heat without the warmth or a sound without its timbre. And when Thanatos felt it play across his skin, like a ripple of energy that somehow tasted of pink, he stopped. And he realised how this evening was going to go.

“Tough run today, my love?” he said delicately, hanging up his cloak and moving deeper into the room.

His answer was a low, affirmative grown from Zagreus, curled on his side in the middle of the bed they shared. Around him the aura grew even tighter, thick enough to taste. There was a faint pink flickering behind his green eye, a tension in his muscles as he held himself, an unusual rosy colour in his veins, standing out starkly in his corded wrists as he gripped the sheet underneath him.

Thanatos sighed softly, pushing all thoughts of returning to work out of his mind. He knew the signs of overindulgence in a god’s boon, as varied as they were, there were always common threads. When Zagreus depended too heavily on one rather than using them sparingly and variedly as he’d been told half a hundred times, he would begin to shake, his eyes would unfocus and flicker, he’d experience deep instinctual urges that were nigh on impossible to ignore. What his body demanded, how his brain responded, well that depended on which god he’d been indulging in. Dionyseus’ boons made him slur his words, lose the ability to walk straight, laugh helplessly at anything. Ares’ were especially worrying, making him violent and bloodthirsty, filling him with the need to strike out at something and not stop until exhaustion collapsed him. Too many from Hermes and he would be filled with energy that crackled and sparked, putting him on a level with a small child who’d eaten their body weight in raw sugar.

But none of those gave Zagreus this tense, hungry energy with it’s tinge of rose pink and it’s smell of amber and heat. That was solely the symptom of far too many boons from one goddess of love and lust. That was all Aphrodite.

“I know what you’re going to say,” Zag groaned, his voice strained and coming through clenched teeth. He seemed to be fighting to keep himself still.

“What am I going to say, beloved?” Than murmured, golden eyes sweeping over him, assessing just how far gone he was. There was a shine of sweat pooling in his collarbone, an unmistakable dampness on the inside of his thighs, the red fabric turning dark.

“That I’m an idiot,” Zag moaned, “That I went too far again, that I need to listen to you.”

Thanatos considered that a moment, confirming to himself that he’d locked the door firmly behind him. Then he calmly unclasped his robe at the back and swept it over his head, leaving him bare but for his jewellery, all in one smooth, efficient stroke. He moved to the bottom of the bed, joining Zagreus up on it, setting his hands lightly on his lover’s knees. He knew from experience that far too much sensation right now could easily overwhelm him. Sure enough, just that barest touch of Than’s cool palms through the fabric of his trousers dragged a strangled noise from Zagreus.

“What I was going to say,” Than said patiently, eyes glowing in the candlelight, “Was that I love you too. And I’m here for you. Alright?”

Zag swallowed hard, eyes wide and wet, fixed completely on his lover’s face. Too many of these boons and it wasn’t just what was between Zag’s legs that took control, it was his heart as well, love and lust together. Than knew he needed gentle words, soft touches, closeness. That and to be bent near in half.

After a long few days of solid work, of being apart more than they were together, Thanatos was rather ready for both.

“I love you,” Zag nearly sobbed, whole body trembling with tension that needed release, “Than, please…”

“Slowly,” Than promised, moving to unbuckle his sword belt and unwind his tunic. His lover hadn’t even undressed himself before he’d fallen to the bed, likely nervous of what he might do without even the feeble barrier of fabric, “Gently. I’ll give you what you need but not more than you can take and you’re going to listen to me. Yes?”

“Yes,” Zag was panting as Than rolled his leggings down, casting them off the side of the bed though he wasn’t entirely sure they were salvageable, “Yes, gods, anything. Just fuck me or kiss me or let me fuck you, I’m dying here.”

“You’re not dying, we’ve done this before…”

Than kept his voice level but there was something in the heat rolling off his skin right now as he took away the last of his adornments, the salt and musk smell of him, something animalistic about it all. He was finding it hard to concentrate. Or he would, if such a thing could pull his focus at a time like this…

“Come here, my love,” he moved Zag’s lean thighs apart, making him whine at just the slight touch of his breath, “I’ll take good care of you.”

Zagreus nearly came the moment Than’s tongue touched his flesh, a kind of electricity seizing him. But it passed, achingly, and then his fingers were in Than’s hair, taking full advantage of how long it had been getting of late, how easily Than had bowed to a sleepy, murmured comment from his lover a few weeks ago that he looked beautiful with it long. He tugged needily, hungrily, but still not enough to truly hurt, as Than fluttered kisses between his lips. He built slowly, starting to lap and suck and slip his tongue into him only when he was sure Zag could bear it. Every movement drew more gasps and moans from his lover, more grasping at his hair, strained whispers of muddied devotion.

Than had seen the sea of course, it claimed so many souls he had to go and collect, even some that were peaceful. He’d stood on it’s shores, felt it’s salt sting the inside of his nose and throat and wanted badly to be able to swim in it. When Zagreus came, sudden and sharp and with a high, wild cry, Than felt for a moment as if he had.

“Well then…” he drew back, wiping at his mouth and cheeks with the back of his hand.

“Than…” Zag moaned, relief in his eyes but only for a moment, the aura still twitching and writhing around him, “S’not enough...still burning…”

“I know, my love,” Than was already moving, taking his wrists now, immediately feeling his racing pulse under his skin, “I cleared my schedule, don’t worry.”

“Yeah, your workload was my biggest concern, just edged out my cock literally feeling like it was on fire…” Zag said dryly, making Thanatos smile. If his lover felt enough like himself to crack his little jokes, then his work was having the intended effect.

“Let’s see what we can do about that then, hm?” Than grinned, bending to his task again.

It took another half hour of slow, almost lazy ministrations between Zag’s thighs, a gradual introduction of his fingers, all very cautious and almost worshipful before he judged his lover ready for something more without it breaking his brain. He was still burning hot, the sheets under him near ruined, thighs shining with slick in the low light. But he could speak without that wanton whine in his voice, he could focus on something other than Than’s fingers or tongue- he’d had him reciting poetry a moment ago just to prove he could- and his eyes looked their usual colour. The boons were slackening their hold on him, bit by bit, as the seconds ticked by and Zag’s needs were filled.

But that didn’t mean they couldn’t have a little more fun before it was over.

“Want my cock?” he purred, licking his fingers lightly as he sat back on his heels.

“Gods, yes, you tease,” Zag groaned, eyes closely following the play of his lover’s fingers, the way his tongue ran across them, “I’ve only been begging since you walked through the damn door.”

“And if I’d given it to you then, you’d have ridden me until you blacked out while scratching my back to ribbons,” Than explained with prim patience, “What happened to listening to me?”

“Sorry,” Zag muttered, his kiss swollen lips sliding into a needy pout, “I’ll behave. I’ll listen. Please?”

Than smiled crookedly, drawing their hips close, throwing his lover’s legs over his shoulder, “Seeing as you asked so nicely.”

“Watch the feet, you’ll singe your hair again,” Zag hummed with a hint of smugness rather too strong for someone in his situation.

“I thought we agreed never to speak of that again, my love…”

Than pressing into him chased the look off Zag’s face, replacing it with one of mixed relief and rapture. Than had to bite down on his own gasp as his lover’s body opened up to him, he’d been neglecting himself as he’d focused on Zag’s predicament and was only now realising how much.

“Oh gods, yes,” Zag moaned, eyelids half closed, head tilted back, “Right there. That’s where you belong, my love, my heart…”

Than swallowed hard, bracing himself with his hands bracketing Zag’s head. It was the effect of the boons, he told himself. They were not two lovers in a sappy play whispering ridiculous, overwrought words of passion in some moonlight drenched garden.

But wasn’t it fun to pretend.

“My beloved,” he answered, voice a little strained as he began to thrust, “I’ve got you, you’re here with me and I’m going to give you just what you need...”

Zag whimpered helplessly, legs locked tight as chords around him, soon unable to do anything but gasp his name and strained pleas for more, faster, harder. Than answered, giving him everything he could, everything he had left, kissing him through the surging pink haze until he wasn’t quite sure who it was coming from or who it was ensnaring any more. And he wasn’t fully certain he could care, not when the world shrank down to Zag’s hands on his face and in his hair, his warm, wet heat around his cock, his breathy gasps of his name, how could he care about anything else? How could he care about anything but the one he loved?

“Come with me,” he whispered into Zag’s mouth, hips working hard and heavy.

Apparently he’d just been waiting for permission, as soon as the words left Than’s mouth, Zag arched up and came hard with a strangled cry of his lover’s name that sounded as sweet as any prayer. Than was helpless and could only follow, tumbling over his own edge, filling Zag deeply, crying out in a way that was very undignified and very un-death like.

When his vision cleared and his brain felt connected to his limbs again, Thanatos opened his eyes to see his husband smiling crookedly up at him.

“I think I’m all set,” he chuckled, eyes a little unfocused but very much his own beautiful colours, the only thing in the air being the smell of sex and candles that had guttered out while they’d been distracted.

They untangled themselves carefully, cataloguing their various aches and pulled muscles, collapsing over each other against the pillows.

“So,” Than shifted so Zag could pillow his head on his chest, “What are we going to do next time?”

“Use the boons sparingly,” Zag just sounded exhausted now, Than was beginning to suspect the much needed bathing would have to wait until after a brief nap, “Vary them. And listen to Thanatos.”

“Good boy,” Than laughed, stroking his hair back from his forehead, “And?”

Zag thought before frowning sleepily, confused, “And...and I don’t know.”

Than leaned down and kissed him softly, lingering before murmuring tenderly, “And I will always come running whenever you need me because I love you.”

Zag smiled at him, reaching up to trace the curve of his nose, “I love you too.”

Thanatos knew Zagreus was satisfied, he could go back to work and catch up on the souls he missed, the ones that were probably mounting every second he spent watching his lover drift into sleep.

But still he didn’t move, he didn’t stop letting the silky black hair run through his fingers again and again, admiring his beloved’s face, relaxed and peaceful in sleep. He would go back to being the emissary of Death, he’d pick up his scythe and he’d return to work. But not now.

For now, how could he care about anything but the man he loved?

[nicknellie]

@sunnysbright requested: something flarrie pls, maybe like a cute date or something, also pls include 🍓

Anonymous requested: flarrie first date pls!!!!

Seeing as both of these requests were for a flarrie date I decided to combine them into one prompt. I included strawberries, but I’m not gonna lie, I’m no expert on how strawberries grow and stuff like that so you might have to suspend your disbelief lmao. Anyway, these prompts were really cute and I love writing for flarrie, so this was a lot of fun. Thank you so much for your requests!

Like Summer

As far as first dates went, Flynn thought she had outdone herself. She had picked the right day, with the sun streaking through the canopy to bathe her and Carrie in its warm summer light, the slightest breeze and the shelter from the trees keeping them just cool enough. The activity couldn’t have been better either – it was Flynn’s opinion that Carrie needed to get out more, so she had packed them each a rucksack and brought Carrie hiking through the forest.

Though judging by all the grumbling, Carrie wasn’t quite enjoying it as much as Flynn.

“You could have at least told me we’d be doing this,” she groused, not fifteen minutes in. “That way I might have been prepared.”

A dozen or so paces ahead of Carrie, Flynn grinned to herself. She had purposely been secretive about what she had planned for their date, fully aware that if Carrie knew she’d be walking through a forest for three hours she would be less than excited. But still, Flynn knew their destination would lift Carrie’s spirits and that all the complaining she was about to receive would be completely worth it.

“If I had told you what we were doing you wouldn’t have come,” Flynn called over her shoulder.

“You know me so well,” Carrie deadpanned. “I’m not even wearing proper shoes for this.”

Flynn briefly turned back to glimpse Carrie’s dainty slip-ons already caked in mud. The rest of Carrie was looking a little worse for wear too; she had pulled her hair into a ponytail that was starting to look like she had been dragged through a hedge backwards, the sleeves of her cardigan were rolled up to the elbow, and the hem of her dress was grass stained. Flynn couldn’t help but feel a little bad, but equally she was probably one of the few people to ever see Carrie Wilson looking less than perfect, so in a way her state of utter disarray was endearing.

“You’re not wearing proper anything for this,” Flynn corrected. “But you let me choose what we were doing. You should have been prepared for anything.”

Carrie rolled her eyes and stormed ahead of Flynn, nose in the air, clearly displeased. Flynn was sure that Carrie wasn’t as moody as she was making it out to be. This had always been their dynamic – quick wit, insults, and snide remarks hiding that little flame of affection that had gradually blossomed into a roaring fire. Now that they were finally on an official date, they still kept that sense of rivalry, but it was diluted by the fact that they had finally admitted to one another how they felt. So Flynn wasn’t worried about Carrie’s mood, and even if she was really grumpy Flynn knew she would be able to cheer her up one way or another.

Plus her bad mood might have been more intimidating if she hadn’t fallen into a bush fifteen seconds later. Flynn was laughing so hard as she tried to tug her out that she dropped her back in several times.

Not long later (although with Carrie’s complaints it felt much longer) they came to a break in the treeline that exposed a hill, the grass coloured a summery bright green. Over the hill Flynn saw the sky for the first time since they’d entered the forest – pure blue, no trace of any clouds, the sun high in the sky. It was inviting and warm and she couldn’t help but feel happy. She glanced at Carrie and felt her breath hitch in her throat.

The thing was, Carrie shouldn’t have looked so good at that moment. She was covered in mud, her hair was a mess, there were ladders in her tights and an enormous rip in the shoulder of her cardigan, and she had been scowling so much on their hike that there were lines on her face Flynn was sure hadn’t been there before. But the sun gleaming down on her lit her hair like a halo and made her skin glow, and for the first time in hours she really let herself smile, an unhidden release of joy that reassured Flynn that she really was enjoying herself. She looked like a painting, so gorgeous that she couldn’t possibly have been real. She blew her hair away from her face and then flipped it over her shoulder, seeming like she moved in slow motion.

“Flynn!”

Flynn was snapped out of her thoughts by Carrie’s voice. Judging by her face, she had called Flynn’s name more than once. Flynn smiled pleasantly, trying to act as if she hadn’t just been worshipping Carrie like a goddess.

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“What’s up? That hill.” Carrie pointed up the slope.

“Oh, that. Didn’t see that there.”

“Are you seriously going to make me climb that?” Carrie said, glaring daggers at Flynn.

Flynn wasn’t fazed. She slipped her hand into Carrie’s, delighted with the blush it elicited from her and the tiny quirk of her lips as she suppressed a smile. Flynn knew better than anyone that Carrie was all talk – she could pretend to be as angry as she wanted, but it was easy to tear down those walls with something as simple as holding her hand.

“Yes,” Flynn said brightly as Carrie regained her composure. “It’s not that steep and you can literally see the top from here. Plus, when we get up there I promise it’ll be worth it.”

Carrie pouted. “My legs ache. This better be somewhere we can sit down.”

“I could carry you up the hill if you’d like,” Flynn half-joked, winking at Carrie. Again, Carrie flushed pink, easily ruffled.

“I can walk myself, thank you very much,” she said, and set off up the hill ahead of Flynn.

It was, truthfully, a very small hill, so it took them barely two minutes to reach the top. It was hotter at the top of the hill, free of the shade the forest had provided, but Flynn wasn’t bothered with the heat – she was looking at Carrie to make certain that this had all been worth it.

Thankfully, Carrie was smiling. No, she was positively beaming, a glimmer in her eye that made her look happier than Flynn thought she had ever seen.

“You like the view?” Flynn asked. Carrie nodded mutely, wonder plain as day on her face. Flynn inwardly breathed a sigh of relief – she had been sure Carrie would like it up here, but to have it go down well in reality was a whole different feeling.

She tore her eyes away from Carrie and looked out across the scenery for herself. Right in front of them was a large field, uncut grass swaying in the gentle breeze, the whole area lined with row upon row of strawberry plants, ripe and ready to eat. Spanning out below them was a splendid view of the ocean, the sea glittering with dashed sunlight, boats framed by gold as they floated on the horizon. It was a sight Flynn had seen many a time before when she had walked this same route with her family and after she had discovered Carrie’s love of strawberries she had known she had to share it with her.

“The walk was worth it?” she checked, sliding her hand back into Carrie’s.

“The walk was worth it,” she confirmed, gripping Flynn’s hand tight as she raised it to her lips and pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles. Flynn felt her heart flutter, getting a little hot, and not because of the sun. “I did know you had something amazing planned – you know that, don’t you?”

“I know,” Flynn replied, leading Carrie to the hedgerows. “I knew that your whining all the way up here wasn’t you not enjoying yourself, it was just your personality.”

“The same way I knew how you being so stubborn and refusing to tell me what we were doing wasn’t you being a complete control freak, it was just you trying to surprise me,” Carrie quipped.

Flynn grinned, ready to rise to her challenge, but as soon as she opened her mouth Carrie silenced her by sticking a strawberry in there. Surprised, Flynn had no choice but to bite into it – luckily, Carrie had picked a ripe one, and the flavour danced over her tongue, tasting like summer.

“These are safe to eat, right?” Carrie asked, picking up another strawberry and inspecting it closely.

Flynn raised an eyebrow. “You’re only saying that after you put one in my mouth? Should I be worried?”

“Yes,” Carrie said. Flynn rolled her eyes fondly. “But they are safe to eat, aren’t they?”

“I wouldn’t have brought you here if you couldn’t eat as many strawberries as your heart desires,” Flynn said wistfully. Carrie beamed again, that smile as bright as the sun, and popped the strawberry into her mouth. She sighed contentedly, all of her earlier gripes seeming to be completely forgotten.

“Good?” Flynn said.

“So good,” Carrie replied.

Flynn lost track of how long they stayed there together, feasting on strawberries, feeding them to one another, basking in the sun, laughing and joking and talking, doing nothing more than simply enjoying each other’s company. As far as first dates went, Flynn was pretty certain this one couldn’t have gone any better. It felt like they had been on a thousand dates just like this before: comfortable, familiar, utterly perfect. With the sun on her skin and Carrie’s hand in hers, Flynn couldn’t imagine anywhere she would rather be.

They shared a few tentative, slightly nervous kisses. They tasted of the strawberries they had been eating. Flynn had never kissed anyone before, but she was certain that there was only one person she ever wanted to kiss from then on, and it was Carrie Wilson. The feeling of Carrie’s lips on hers sent shivers down her spine despite the hot weather. It was thrilling and calming at the same time, a sensation like no other, but Flynn was drunk on it.

As the afternoon wore on, the sun drifted slowly across the sky, and Flynn realised they needed to start heading back before it got too dark.

“I wish I could bring some of these strawberries back,” Carrie thought aloud.

“Oh, that reminds me!” Flynn announced. She had known Carrie would say that, and she was prepared for it. She dug around in her backpack for a while and eventually pulled out another bag, this one empty. She handed it to a bemused Carrie, smiling proudly at her own predictive skills. “So you can collect some and take them with you. I knew you’d want to.”

There was a small, soft smile on Carrie’s face, something in it that Flynn couldn’t quite name. She watched as Carrie practically bounced back to the hedges, giddy in a way that Flynn had hardly ever seen her before, and followed after her to give her a hand.

When the bag was nearly full, Carrie zipped it up and shouldered it, reaching for Flynn’s hand and leading the two of them back down the hill towards the forest, back the way they had come.

“I can carry the bag if you like,” Flynn offered, trying to be a good date.

“I’ve got it,” Carrie insisted.

“I thought you’d be eating them as we walked back,” Flynn said.

Carrie just smiled. “These aren’t for me. They’re for you.”

“Me?”

Carrie nodded briskly. “I’m going to make you a pie.”

Flynn almost laughed. “What for?”

“As a thank-you,” Carrie said like it should have been obvious. “You organised this entire amazing day and all I did was tag along. So, to show how much I care about you and how great today was, I’m making you a pie.”

“I– thank you.” Flynn tried to keep the tremor from her voice, trying not to show how touched she was. She liked this aspect of what they had – they were always equal, it was never one of them putting in more effort than the other. It showed how much they cared, how much they respected each other. It made Flynn feel loved.

But it was too early for love, she knew that. It was only their first date after all.

Carrie rolled her eyes again, but there was a blush on her cheeks. She squeezed Flynn’s hand affectionately and they walked the rest of the way back through the forest in comfortable silence.

*

The next day, Flynn’s legs were killing her. She texted Carrie as soon as she woke up, but other than that she allowed herself to sleep in until late, resting her aching joints. She just laid in bed and spoke to Carrie, remembering how perfect the day before had been and becoming ever more eager to go on another date.

She had almost forgotten Carrie’s promise until the text came: I’m outside your house by the way.

Flynn leapt out of bed and peaked out of her bedroom window. Sure enough, Carrie was stepping out of her dad’s car and walking up Flynn’s driveway. In her hands she held a large dish, mostly covered by tinfoil.

Ignoring the fact that she was still wearing her pyjamas even though it was nearing one o’clock, Flynn ran as fast as her tired legs would carry her from her bedroom to the front door. She opened it before Carrie even had time to knock.

“Hi,” she said breathlessly. Carrie looked a lot less haggard than she had on their walk yesterday, beautiful even without the gleam of the sun on her face. The smell of the pie gently wafted out from underneath its covering.

“Hey,” Carrie replied, smiling sheepishly. She held the dish out and Flynn took it carefully. “I told you I’d make you a pie.”

Gently, Flynn pulled back the tinfoil and saw perfect pastry filled with bright red strawberries, covered with careful latticing and lots of tiny pastry hearts. Carrie was blushing the same shade as the strawberries and Flynn didn’t remember ever feeling so touched.

“It looks great,” she said, smiling up at her girlfriend. “Do you want to come in for a bit and have some?”

“I’d love to,” Carrie returned.

Flynn led her to the kitchen, cut them both a slice of pie each, and completed it with whipped cream. They sat at the table together, quietly eating their pie, the strawberries just as sweet as they had been the day before, the mood just as bright and comfortable. Flynn thought that if being with Carrie was so easy, there would definitely be a lot more dates and a lot more shared strawberry pies in the future. And she was more than alright with that.

*

Taglist (if you want to be added or removed just let me know): @ace-bookworm @williexmercer @willex-owns-my-heart @itstiger720 @the-reckless-and-the-brave @that-one-newsie @bluedarkness @lookingthroughmirrors @tmp-jatp @salty-star @julieandthequeers @lmaohuh 

[anxiouslyfred]

Black???? Out Mall

Summary: Most people do not believe that black is a colour the soulmate link can prevent you from seeing. A complete black out in a mall has Remus’s friend relying on the fact he’s never been able to see black and has far better dark vision because of it. Now he just needs to avoid making eye-contact with the only other person leading friends around the mall.

/\/\

Virgil's world had always been difficult to describe. People would talk about the world in shades of light and dark, white to black when mentioning the colours they couldn't see, but that could never work for him. Afterall, it's hard to explain that inside the night is dark brown and there's a specific shade of violet especially for midnight when everyone else just calls the dark black.

Part of him wished that there was a different colour he couldn't see, but no, there could be nothing black for him. Anything that would be black outside of the dark was a gentle ash green, far paler than people would believe, if they even considered that he couldn't see black true at all.

Mostly people just dismissed it, calling him a liar and that he could just say he didn't want to share. It had always been that way, from the first time his parents had asked what colour he couldn't see on the wheel to the crowd he befriended in school and finally following him into the work place. Each group that knew Virgil would only have him reply to the question once before he retreated, blocking them from ever getting close.

He did still find the ash-grey a comforting colour to wear though and would just claim to be trying out camouflage whenever someone commented on his usually black outfits. Once he managed to get a top that actually was ash-green but got put of wearing it after a few too many comments about his 'Summer look'. It felt like Virgil couldn't win, either he wouldn't be listened to about being unable to see black, or people would call out the times he mistook ash-green things for black ones. At least paints named the colours usually, so he didn't have to worry over mixing them up incorrectly.

/swap character focus\

All of Remus's room was maroon and green. Well if you asked him it was and he wouldn't give anyone a chance to argue with that. If he said something was maroon purple then nothing would change his mind, no matter how many people insisted the walls were painted black.

Currently Janus was the only person who had stuck around long enough to learn that Remus honestly couldn't tell when things were black and knew that when soulmates came up there would be a wonderfully long lecture over the many reasons, suppositions and stories Remus had over why people would claim such an absurd colour as black existed. Too many times they'd watch someone dismiss from all realms of possibility that Remus really couldn't see black and wouldn't until he met his soulmate only to quickly want to run away at the rather violent suggestions Remus had for “imbeciles obsessed with everything having opposites”. It was one of the more amusing things Janus found happening since befriending Remus and was at least generally harmless.

Remus was actually more interested in the places he could navigate better than everyone else. He'd perfected moving around in dark rooms, moving through the brown and around the objects that appeared other colours. For some reason if people could see black they couldn't see the other colours of objects in the night which frankly sounded like some evolutionary flaw.

He'd dragged Janus with him to all manner of deserted places, looking for ghosts and cool trinkets abandoned to time, despite their complaints that they could see nothing and had to be guided around constantly. It just gave Remus more chance to cling onto someone who wasn't shoving him away really.

This time though was not intentional, planned, or even something Remus had expected to be possible.

Everyone, literally everyone, said malls had back up generators and emergency lights in case there was a power outage or something went wrong; That you couldn't just cause a full on black out because they'd have emergency lights coming on in minutes so why was Remus suddenly having to pull Janus along carefully behind him and trying to remember the way out?

“You do know where we're going, don't you Remus?” Janus's normally carefully controlled voice was wavering, uncertain of the situation and what could be happening.

Remus couldn't blame them, almost everyone had sat down, or was stumbling forwards, trying to find a wall and then follow it somewhere. There was a group ahead that hadn't though. It looked like they were trying to do a conga line and possibly the person leading them could see where they were going.

If it hadn't been for the grip on his hand tightening and pulling him back to the present situation Remus would have raced after to find out if his was his someone who couldn't see black either. “Sure. You pulled us in at the entrance to that kids shop and that's back here, up in the lift... I'm gonna have to break into the lift now, aren't I?”

“Just look for some stairs. We can figure out the way back to the shop from there.” Janus sighed, trying for disappointed but just sounding scared at this point. There wasn't even a guarantee they'd be able to get out if they did manage to find an exit with this power-cut.

They'd carried on walking while muttering to each other, not wanting to have everyone they passed attempt to join up with them, and bringing them a lot closer to the group Remus had spied before. He definitely would have preferred to avoid the group now given he could see his brother as part of it, but the leader was heading directly for them.

“Yo, can you see or are you just wanting to trip over as many people as you can?” The leader of the group called and Remus was torn between making immediate eye contact and trying to avoid it as long as possible.

Janus had turned to the voice already and was tentatively trying to head in that direction so Remus had to keep pace if only so they didn't fall. “Much as tripping over everyone sounds like fun Jan would kill me if I caused him an injury.” He replied, focusing on Roman to avoid looking at the front of the group.

His brother's stumble literally cause the rest to all stumble too, only just gaining their footing before any of them fell. “Remus? What the hell are you doing in here?”

“Trying to find one of those gadget shops. See if we can steal their stock of night vision goggles so me and Janus can make a break for freedom. I see Patton, Logan and a stranger up front. New friend or did you describe me enough that they ran screaming any time you mentioned I'd pop in to bother you?” Now he'd said it, Remus actually thought finding some night vision goggles would be sensible, at least it would give Janus a bit more confidence in the dark. Plus then he could possibly even make eye contact with the hoodie clad guy.

“Virgil, Premier Tour Guide for dark halls and supplier of every worry you'll never need.” Roman introduced, attempting to bow and wave towards the front of the conga line but headbutting Logan's back instead.

Remus snickered at that, but before he could say anything Logan spoke up. “I do have to agree that even some poor quality night vision goggles would probably do us good right now. There should be one... Virgil, what shops are we next to currently?”

“Princey's favourite jewellers and it looks like there's a build-a-bear around the next bend. Ro, Is this the brother that thinks everything is maroon, or have we run into someone else?” There was something harsh in Virgil's words, as though whenever he'd come up between them Roman had upset Virgil with something he'd said.

“He's only got the one Remus. That much I can tell you. So are we joining up for now?” Remus nodded, turning to scan the shops along with Virgil, wondering if Logan would need any more details to locate the shop he'd thought of.

That didn't prove to be necessary as Logan was tugging and twisting in his spot of the conga line to turn them around. “We've come the wrong way then. Back around the corner, 5 shops along and there's a gadget shop. I definitely saw some night vision goggles when I was looking for cheap chemistry supplies.”

“Off we go then.” Virgil nodding, gripping Patton's hands on his waist to lead them off with Remus and Janus following behind.

Remus let them fall back a little, just enough that the group could hear their steps but they could talk quietly without the words being distinguishable. “Are you okay with joining them? I kinda just changed the plans on you when you wanted to find an exit as soon as.”

“If you promise not to even look at Virgil until I have some of those goggles on I guess so.” They demanded. “You could lose your special ability in the worst possible situation”

“Best thing about being unable to see black, it gives night vision while no other colour provides benefits to being unable to see it.” Remus snickered, moving a little faster once again.

There were fewer people in this section of the mall and all of them seemed to have reached the walls or some kind of furniture and decided to stop there to rest. It made for quicker movement, but also disappointed Remus a little that he wasn't getting to dodge them around human obstacles constantly. That did at least give him the opportunity to try going as fast as Janus could stumble along behind him and overtake Roman's little group in entering the shop.

“Everyone, I need a very specific thing from these shelves so you better be backing away from them now.” He snarled, dropping Janus's hands and beaming at the frightened squeaks let out from the customers and staff of the store. It wasn't often he could be this threatening when most people assumed his ruffles and lace meant he was harmless, despite how dark and unnerving the designs on them were.

He didn't waste time enjoying the fear though, hurrying to scan the shelves, trying to locate where the night vision goggles were. They couldn't have been a fashionable item to use since Remus was on one of the shelves further back and away from the tills by the time he found them. He didn't hesitate to start tearing the box of one open, grabbing as many more as would fit in his arms before heading back to where Janus was being pulled along beside Virgil now.

“I got goggles for everyone!” Remus bounced, already putting the open set onto Janus and trying to figure out the on switch. The instructions would be no help, with white paper and black writing the entire page just looked brown to Remus. “seeing yet? Seeing yet? Seeing yet?”

The repetition of the words was interrupted by hands shoving him away from the headset. “Shut up, get to opening boxes or go and see if you can pay for these at the checkout.” Virgil hissed, already removing the headset to check for the switch on it. “So you're Janus, I guess. Tell me if you can see anything through this now?” Remus heard the mutter as he was opening up the fifth box. He'd set 2 aside, intending to shove them into Janus's arms just in case he and Virgil would need them in a few moments, but for now he was going to stare at everyone's shoes while passing goggles to Virgil.

“You're a lot better at getting things functional than Remus is. I never heard your pronouns though, so can I have them?” Janus confirmed, already breathing a little easier as they stood looking around the store.

“Can't have them, they're mine already, but I go by he/him.” Virgil nodded, already taking the next and moving to help Patton get the goggles on.

Janus paused, looking towards the check out and back to the group they made. “I'm not some kind of Fae, you know. Although, given how well you're navigating through here, could you be? Or perhaps you just can't see black, like Remus here?” Their questions were prying and definitely spoilt some of the fun Remus had been hoping to have while trying to make eye contact with Virgil.

“You mean ash-green right?” There was a smirk and a snicker in Virgil's voice as Remus's head shot up to stare at his back, almost at the same time as Roman let out a loud groan.

“That's a Remus line! No becoming my brother, Virge!” Roman exclaimed, making everyone start snickering now. Only Remus seemed to notice that Patton had wandered off with his wallet out as soon as his goggles were functional. Apparently his wonderful theft wasn't allowed to actually be a theft. What a complete shame!

Virgil had sorted Logan out a lot more quickly than the first to, but held the last open set of goggles above Roman's head, just enough for one of the cords to brush his hair and shoulder. The shrieks only setting off more laughter and snickers from the friends. “If you're that scared of the night vision goggles, perhaps I shouldn't give you them.”

“You Nightmare. Give me back some sight, right this instant!” Roman's demands probably would have been more effective if he hadn't turned around completely in his fright. Still Virgil put them on him with no further argument, while Remus wished he could have scared his brother a bit more while stood in the dark.

The he realised that that was the last of their friends with night vision goggles on and he could actually find out if Virgil was his soulmate or not and had to leap over to him. “Can I see you now?” He cheered, getting their faces as close together as possible before whining when there was suddenly nothing to see.

“You better have got enough of those goggles for us or your next sight of me is going to be when I attack you!” Virgil snarled, though a hand tightening on his upper arm kept him close.

“Januuuuussssss, My soulmate if threatening meeeeee! Can I at least have the goggles to see if he still looks as hot while threatening me as I think he does?” Remus whined, leaning his head as far backwards as he could imagining he was still able to see Janus standing a little way behind him.

He didn't hear any response though, only the shuffling and a few snickers from his friends for a few minutes. Randomly he'd let out self pitying whines for a bit before he decided to see if the hand on his arm was far enough up he could nuzzle it with his head.

For all he'd heard about black as a colour it really wasn't that interesting when absolutely everything was covered in it with no distinction to offer shapes or forms. It did however give him the chance to try getting to know Virgil's body by touch he eventually thought, only to get his hands slapped away if they strayed off of his arms.

“Fine, if I put the goggles on you, are you going to stop trying to grope me?” Virgil eventually snickered, already pushing them over his head after shoving it upright again.

“No promises there, My Maroon,” Remus tried to leer but was already distracted looking around for their friends. “Where'd everyone go?”

“Well I think Patton's trying to figure out how many other set of goggles he can afford to give to everyone and Logan is trying to talk him out of that. Janus and Roman have both gone in search of the exit once more. All pretty much excuses to as Roman put it 'Leave the gloomy soulmates to get used to the dark.'” Virgil waved in a few directions before actually taking Remus's hand. “Getting to know you sounds more interesting than this new colour though.”

They might still be in a powerless shopping mall for an undetermined future, but at least Remus and Virgil had found their soulmates and proven that black definitely is a colour and they couldn't see it before.

[buckyreaderrecs]

Gloxinia

Summary: You’re a witch that helps The Avengers a couple of times. Bucky Barnes finds some sort of happiness and healing in you, and the flowers you surround yourself with. He’s a boy in lalalove. 

 Words: 5,808 Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Tony Stark, James 'Rhodey' Rhodes, Clint Barton, Thor Odinson Additional tags: mostly canon compliant (Infinity War and Endgame never happened), witch!Reader, enhanced!Reader, she/her pronouns for Reader, other characters mentioned but not in scenes, recovering!Bucky, witchy vibes, evil werewolf clones, sassy Sam Wilson, LOTS of flower symbolism, Avengers compound, fluff Warnings: reference to having nightmares but nothing serious My masterlist.

Note: This was written for @the--sad--hatter and her Flowers For My Followers writing challenge. Kara, I love you, and I hope you love this. Also shout out to @vibraniumwitch for being my witchy inspiration always. Also, sorry for probably wrong geography stuff; I'm Australian and don't know shit about New York/Upstate New York loooool.

 Gloxinia

For any of The Avengers to be sceptical of witchcraft seemed, to be perfectly frank, really fucking stupid. Each of their lives had been wrapped up in magic and mystery, so to have them hold back smirks and send mocking glances across the table at each other was not exactly what you had expected.

To be fair, it wasn't all The Avengers making fun. At the head of the table, Steve Rogers watched with curiosity, although he was sure his expression read as neutral. Sam Wilson took the seat closest to you, asking the same question phrased multiple ways.

"So, a witch witch?" "Is it more Sabrina or Charmed?" "Really just making a potion, huh? Like a real life witch…"

He broke the tension, which would have been otherwise unbearable.

Tony Stark, Clint Wilson, and James 'Rhodey' Rhodes had been reduced to acting like teenagers at the mere suggestion of brewing a potion. You'd been hoping for a different audience. Specifically, Wanda Maximoff. She would have believed you. Alas, you had not been gifted your choice in company.

"Alright, Broom-hilda, show us what 'cha got," Tony said, growing impatient.

"Do we really have to drink that?" Clint added, peering into the bowl you'd been mixing things in. "Won't turn our skin purple? Grow an extra limb?"

Rolling your eyes, you held up a plant. "Magnolia, for perseverance. Or, add the petals to a salad for a bit of extra colour," you explained in your best infomercial voice.

Sam snorted, then began to poke around the rest of the ingredients. "What’re the orange ones for?"

"That's nasturtium. For conquest."

When you'd finished the mix, you let it cook over a small, portable heat pad. Modern witch, and all that. Hot off the stove, you poured the liquid into a collection of small, glass bottles.

"Let it cool, cork them, then drink it when you need it," you announced, matter-of-factly.

When Natasha Romanoff had exhausted all of her routes of gathering information, returning with only your name, everyone was close to admitting defeat. The battle was lost, surely, if a witch's potion was the only hope… But Steve wasn't in the business of giving up. He sent Sam to bring you to the compound.

Steve explained that they had located a source of power. Ancient, unstable, highly sought-after power. And even with all their superhuman strength and superhuman speed and superhuman everything, they couldn't get to it. Maybe, though, with what was best described as a performance-enhancing-witchy-substance, they had a fighting chance.

The room looked over the bottles.

"How do we know if it'll work?" Sam asked, picking one up and inspecting it.

"We don't," Tony answered. It was less an attack than a statement of unfortunate fact.

"You'll just have to trust me."

Sam nodded, and watched as you pulled a sprig of yarrow and put it into his bottle.

"Yarrow, for healing," you told him.

"Yeah, ah… Can I grab some of that too?" Rhodey asked. "Falc ain't the only brother without super healing."

 …

"No," 

"But-"

"No. I'm not gonna be a magical drug dealer to-" but Sam cut you off before you could finish your sentence.

"Y/N, Y/N, you got it all wrong! I don't want that nasty nasturtium stuff. Nah, I'm thinking… truth serum?"

"Truth serum," you repeated deadpan.

"Yeah, nightshade," he says nodded and wriggling his eyebrows. He was doing his best 'good kid does extra credit' impression.

"You googling 'truth plant' isn't impressive," you said. That elicited a snort from Sam's companion.

Standing next to him, silent and appearing impatient, Bucky Barnes crossed his arms over his chest. But the snort had dragged him into the conversation.

"And what do you want?" you asked him.

"What?"

"Love spell. Vampire tracker. Or just an easy bottle of truth serum too?"

Bucky blinked at you, then slowly shook his head. "I've had enough serums to last me a lifetime… I'm just here 'cause Steve said you'd kick his ass before you gave him any…magic or whatever," he answered, motioning to Sam.

"So Rogers got all the trio's brains, huh?"

Sam and Bucky frowned in unison.

"Look, we normally just use Nat for this kind of thing. But our guy ain't talking, and we need the information," Sam tried again. "She's out of town, and Wanda's taking a break from getting in people's heads."

Being called in to brew superhero steroids as a once off was one thing… Having the Falcon and the Winter Soldier show up on your doorstep at 11:00 pm was another. However, the men looked desperate.

Sighing, you looked at them. "Fine. Come in. I might be able to help." 

You lead the men through your living room, overlooked by a small kitchen. Their faces told you a lot. "You were expecting a magic cave? Portal to a hut in the middle of a forest?"

"Yeah, kinda," Sam replied, casually shrugging.

"Do you live in a nest?" you asked him.

Bucky chuckled.

"Alright, I get it. The witch thing isn't always literal."

But that's when you pulled a dark purple velvet curtain back, revealing a room you referred to as your office.

"Woah," Bucky whispered to himself.

"Now, see, this is what I'm talking 'bout!" Sam exclaimed, looking around the room in awe.

The small, windowless room was framed by floor to ceiling bookshelves on three of the walls. Stuck between books were trinkets and oddities. Against the fourth wall was a table covered in dried herbs, potted plants, and other things neither Sam nor Bucky could identify.

"Sit," you instructed, pointing to the round table in the centre of the room. There were scorch marks and deep gashed in the wood grain. Bucky traced them with his right hand.

As they pulled out chairs and sat, Sam pointed, "Is that a microwave?"

"For heating potions… and hot pockets," you explained. "So, how much can you tell me?"

"Officially - nothing. Unofficially - your magic juice helped save the world a month ago, so, whatever you need to know," Sam answered.

"Okay. And, none of those C.I.A. psychotropic L.S.D. drugs are real? No secret truth serums invented by Bruce Banner?" you asked, more out of interest than need-to-know.

"If they do, they ain't telling us," Sam said. 

He explained that they had a man in custody. The man knew a date and a location, but he wasn’t cracking in interrogation and time was running out.

"Sounds very spy T.V. dramatic," you mused.

"But it's real life," Bucky said.

"Yeah," you replied, looking at him and his serious expression. "Okay, so what's meant to happen? On the date or whatever?"

"You'll sleep better not knowing that," from Bucky, his expression remaining the same.

You trusted him to gauge what you should and should not know. Nodding, you turned around and began to look for the things you needed. The men watched, leaning over the table when you put things on it.

"I don't do magic on other people. It's a line we don't cross. So, no truth serum. What I can do is try to pull the information you need from somewhere else. Bring it here," you told him.

When you joined them at the table you smiled at their matching faces; furrowed brows and darkened eyes.

"You're sure he knows what you need to know?" you asked. They nodded. "Do you have anything of his?" Sam frowned, shook his head.

Bucky thought for a second, then pulled a knife out of somewhere. "Haven't cleaned this yet. Might still have some of his blood on it,"

"Disturbing, but okay," you said, taking the knife and putting it in the wooden bowl in front of you.

The room went silent as you picked white chrysanthemum petals off a fresh stem and dropped them into the bowl. Begonias followed, then basil. Truth. Knowledge. Success.

"One of you has to be the vessel,"

"The vessel?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. The information needs to go to someone. It can't be me,"

"I'll do it," Bucky offered.

For a second you hesitated, wondering how white magic would work through someone with so much darkness in their past. But that was just it - it was the past.

"You need to wear this," you said, handing him a crown made of blackthorn plant. "It's like, a filter. Brings in good luck, and lets the universe know you're working for good."

Bucky looked at the thing in his hands, slowly putting it on his head.

"Suits you, man," Sam said, smirking. Bucky just shot him a look.

They fell silent again, watching you carefully place a few more things in the bowl before filling it with a liquid poured from a glass jar that looked like it once held pasta sauce. Everything sat swimming but still until you placed a hand either side of the bowl, then it started to simmer. It bubbled and popped and seemed to quickly reduce down, evaporating faster than it scientifically should have. Soon, all that was left was about shot glass worth of black, thick syrupy liquid.

"Where's my knife?" Bucky asked.

"Gone," you replied as you poured the potion into a cup. You handed it to Bucky and he looked at you apprehensively. "Drink it and focus on what you want to know… Think about the guy. And, think about what happens if you don't find out what he knows. Think about it so hard that it hurts."

Bucky nodded slowly but shot the liquid quickly. At first, he just sat there, almost like he was stunned.

"How long-" Sam went to ask, but you shushed him.

Suddenly, Bucky pushed back from the table, standing up and sending his chair flying. Sam followed, holding his arms out like he expected Bucky to fall.

"It's okay," you told Sam. "He's okay."

Bucky's eyes were shut tight, and he held his head, fingers curling around his blackthorn crown. He began to breathe heavily, mouth open.

"Is he gonna spew?!" Sam shrieked in a high-pitched voice.

Taking the empty wooden bowl with you, you stood and moved to Bucky. He went still and mimicked your exact movements of slowly lowering yourself to the ground and kneeling. Sam didn't understand how Bucky knew what to do; you'd not uttered a command.

You placed the bowl between you and Bucky. He leaned over it, and began to cough and pull something from his mouth. It was impossibly long, coming from somewhere deep inside him. He pulled and pulled, letting it slop into the bowl. When it was all out, he spat, then seemingly woke up, falling on his butt and backing away from the bowl.

"What the fuck," he said between heavy breaths.

Sam and Bucky watched you look through the muck and gunk in the bowl, no hesitation to your movement.

"What is that?" Sam asked, truly disgusted. 

You looked over to Bucky, who was looking at the thing intently. He scrambled back over and took it from you. "I know…" he started, looking up at Sam. "I know… everything.”

 …

 You had dropped cutlery three times, but when it was almost midnight and no company had come, you were getting restless. In your office, sat at the table, you shuffled a deck and laid out cards.

The Hanged Man. The Hermit. The Hierophant, reversed. The Lovers.

Then, 11.11 and a soft knock on the door.

Bucky Barnes looked sleep deprived but somehow hopeful.

"I thought I might see you tonight," you told him, opening the door and letting him through. "Were you right? About the date and place?"

"Yes," he said, coming to stand in your living room.

"Good. What do Earth's Mightiest Heroes need now then?"

Bucky looked around. "Do you have any pets?" he asked.

"No. Do you?"

"A cat. Alpine... Thought you'd have one… black cat or something." He wasn't teasing, like Sam had.

"Black cat? Thought you guys were the ones with a black cat?"

Bucky grinned. "Funny. You're funny,"

"Thanks… You're not here for them then,"

"No," he said, walking over to the window where plants were everywhere. "Do you use all of these? For your magic?"

"Most of them, yeah. Like, these ones…" You moved to stand next to him. "They give strength,"

"Snapdragons," Bucky identified.

"Yep. And… Vervain are protective in nature, especially from enchantment." You picked a sprig of the purple plant, threaded it through Bucky's hair, behind his ear.

"What about nightmares? What helps with those?" he asked earnestly.

The room was illuminated by candlelight. A soft orangy glow lit up half his fast, casting the other half into shadow. You turned to him and cupped his face in your hands.

"A tired soldier… Sing him to sleep… A tired soldier… The devil's to keep," you sung gently, running your thumbs along his cheeks. "Sit. I'll brew you tea,"

"Tea?" Bucky asked, a little hesitant to be out of your hands.

"Magic tea," you clarified, rolling your eyes.

Elderflower for compassion and sweet-brier petals for healing. A little poppy and chamomile, and other secrets kept in your family for generations. A dash of Indian jasmine to finish. It glimmered as you swirled it in the teacup.

Bucky was on the couch, sitting up too straight.

"Take your boots off. Lay down," you instructed. He went to protest, probably say you didn't need to put that much effort in. "Please," you said, stopping the protest. "Let me do this."

Bucky followed your commands and took the teacup when offered. He skulled it like a frat boy in a bar trying to impress his mates.

"Now close your eyes. Sleep," you said, taking the empty cup from him.

Kneeling next to the couch, you softly ran your fingers through Bucky's hair and waited until he fell asleep before you moved to your own bed.

He was gone when you woke up.

 …

 "What? No broomstick?" called the unmistakable voice of Sam Wilson.

Standing at the open boot of your car, you looked up and watched him approach, Bucky trailing behind, hands shoved in his pockets.

"You stalking me now?" you asked, clocking the bunch of flowers in Sam's hands.

"Nope. Just waiting for you. Weren't home and we wanted to drop off a thank you, for the helping last week," he said, holding out the bouquet to you.

"So, the information was good?" you asked, pretending Bucky hadn't already confirmed it to you. His late night visit to you a few nights before was obviously not something he'd shared with his friends.

"It was good. You do good work,"

"Thanks," you said dubiously, but taking the flowers.

"We picked those out especially. This one is a gerball-"

"Gerbera," Bucky correct.

"Means 'you are the sunshine of my life' and this one is an orchid, for beauty," Sam rattled off.

"What about this one?" you asked, pointing to the yellow agrimony.

"Buck picked that one. What's it mean?" Sam asked, looking over to Bucky. Bucky was leaning against your car casually. He shrugged, pretended to not know agrimony was the gratitude plant.

"They're beautiful. You didn't have to," you told them, putting the flowers in one of the boxes in the boot of your car.

"You need a hand?" Sam asked, not waiting for a response. He swooped in and collected one of the heavy boxes. Bucky followed, picking up the other.

"Ah… sure…"

You let them carry your things inside, put them on the kitchen bench.

"More witch stuff? Eye of newt? That kind of thing?" Sam asked.

"If microwave popcorn and frozen lasagna is witchy, then ya got me," you laughed. "You're gonna be disappointed if you keep thinking like that, Sam,"

"You say that but I've seen behind the curtain. You're definitely witchy enough,"

"Yeah, yeah… So what do you want? You didn't just come to give me flowers," you asked, launching yourself backwards and up to sit on the bench.

You glanced over at Bucky, who was back over at the window and the plants. Sam clocked you looking, but filed that away.

"We've got an offer for you,"

"When you say 'we,' who exactly do you mean?"

"Us! The Avengers! Superheros!" Sam said, chest puffed out.

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head. "Nope,"

"You haven't even heard-"

"No. I'm happy doing what I do," you told him.

"I told you," Bucky chimed in, stopping at a gloxinia, something about its prettiness resonating with him. "What's this one mean?"

"Love at first sight," you said, biting your lip to hide a smile.

"Whatever you do doesn't come with the perks we have," Sam persisted.

"Also doesn't come with anonymity I kinda like,"

"Alright. I tried. Can't promise we won't be back for more help though. Like I said, you do good work... So, this lasagna. Fresh?"

…

 "Well, if it isn't Broom-hilda," Tony said, arms open.

"I hope you're not expecting a hug," you replied, holding your own arms around yourself. Bucky snorted from next to you.

"Brumhilda?! A name derived from Brunnhilde, no doubt. I have a friend named-"

"Yeah, now's not the time for Asgardian tales," Tony interrupted a seemingly very excited Thor.

"Her name's Y/N," Bucky said to Thor.

Thor looked back and forth between Tony and you. "He thinks it's funny," you explained.

"It is. And I am," Tony argued.

You sighed, sat down in one of the conference room's chairs and began to slowly spin on it. "So, what am I doing here?"

When Sam and Bucky knocked on your door before the sun had a chance to rise and shine that morning, you knew it was going to be hard to say no to them. They both looked upset, and Sam was even free from his usual quips. As soon as you saw their faces, you began to nod. "Let me get dressed. I'll come," you whispered, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

Bucky pulled up a seat next to you, the rest of the room taking the cue and finding their spots around the large table. You recognised everyone, having met most of them. Clint and Rhodey nodded politely in your direction.

"Y/N," Steve greeted, sitting next to Bucky. "Good to see you. Heard these punks have been harassing ya?"

"Nothing she can't handle," Sam cut in, sitting on your other side.

"Truly sorry for them," Steve said, grinning.

You shrugged, looking at Bucky. "They're alright."

Tony cleared his throat. "Whole team isn't here yet, but they're coming… We're going to need all the help we can get."

 ...

 "There's too many of them!��� 

"At least they're not evil flying robots!"

"Hey! I said I was sorry!"

"Cap, we've got to try somethin' else. Bullets ain't doin' shit."

"Wanda? Can you-"

"On it."

"Do you need me to go big? 'Cause I'll go big."

"Yes! Mr. Stark, can he go big?!"

From your hidden vantage point higher up the mountain, you watched the battle play out in front of you. Through the earpiece you listened to The Avengers et. al. try to work out what to do. It was true - they were severely outnumbered. The situation was going from bad to worse.

"Jesus!" you yelped as someone almost body-slammed themselves next to you.

"Sorry. Checkin' you're still here,"

"Where else would I be?"

Bucky shrugged, reloaded.

"What are they, Buck? I know a lot about a lot, but I've never seen anything like them."

You took another look through the M22 field binoculars you'd been issued. The monsters didn't look entirely… natural. Maybe, like many creatures of the world, they were made in a lab. They were men pulled apart, stitched back together with pieces of dog and wolf. Their claws ripped through protective gear and flesh like it was nothing, and they could communicate by wordless sound. It was almost howling, but more guttural and less fluid.

"They all look the same," you said.

Bucky nodded. "Yeah, noticed that too. Exactly the same,"

"Exactly? Up close? Even the human parts?"

He stopped what he was doing and looked at you. "Yep. Clones. What're you thinkin'?"

"Clones..? Um, I don't know… I just… If I can figure out what they are then I can figure out how to help."

Sam dropped down on the other side of you, his wings damaged. He ripped the pack off his back and began to try to repair them. "If I knew we were gonna be out here fightin' fucking werewolves I would've packed the silverware instead of the vibranium."

"Werewolves?" you asked, pulling a small silk pouch from your bag. "Here. Use this to stick them back together,"

"Stick it back together? Y/N. Can't just glue an EXO back together-"

"It's not glue, Sam. It's bumblebee orchid, oak leaf, protea, and a bunch of other things you don't wanna know about," you explained.

"You really questioning her magic? Use her glue,” Bucky ordered. 

Sam huffed but complied. And abracadabra, your witchy sticky goop held his wings together stronger than they were before.

Bucky and Sam stood up, reloaded and ready to rejoin the fight.

"Wait!" you called, suddenly having a thought. "What if they really are werewolves?"

"What?" Sam said.

"Weirder things have happened, right? Werewolves are real. So maybe…" Your voice trailed off as you tipped the entire contents of your bag onto the forest floor.

"Y/N, we don't have time-"

"Gimme a second. I know I have it here,"

"Have what?" Bucky asked, kneeling down and studying the contents of your bag too.

"Aconitum extract… in a bottle… Here!"

"Aconitum?" Sam asked confused and growing impatient.

"Monkshood. Um, wolfsbane. Bucky, are we too far up for you to get one?"

Bucky took your M22s and assessed. "No. Nah, I can get one,"

"Gimme a bullet."

Sam and Bucky watched you dip the bullet in aconitum while uttering any and every luck enchantment you could think of. Bucky loaded his M249 SAW, steadied himself and fired.

The monster went down.

All three of you held your breath and waited. Through the M22s you watched Steve approach the body, check it.

"It's… dead…" came through the comms.

 …

 It had been two weeks since the army of hybrid werewolf clones, so two weeks since you'd last seen Bucky. It had taken days to kill them all. You had to be flown out to find more aconitum extract. From the lab at the compound you were able to work with Bruce Banner to find better ways of delivering the wolfsbane to the clones. Once you had it, it was all over for those motherfuckers.

When everyone else arrived back at the compound, they were exhausted, covered in the thick ash generated by the massive fires it took to burn all the bodies. Bucky was so tired he could hardly keep his eyes open, but he mustered the energy to offer to drive you back home to New York City himself. You just sent him off to shower and bed, taking Tony's offer of a ride with one of his minions.

It had been two weeks, then a dream, a vivid and hazy dream. A white cat brought you orange blossoms, carrying a branch in his mouth. "Do you want me to plant this?" you asked the cat, and you knew he would say yes if it could speak. He watched you tend to the blossom, then he disappeared through an open window. You could feel the cool breeze against your skin, felt your hair move.

When you woke, it didn't surprise you to find Bucky sitting next to your bed, back to it and legs stretched out in front of him. The window was open, letting in an unseasonably warm morning zephyr.

"I just had a dream about you," you whispered, ruffling his hair.

Bucky looked up at you. He seemed sad. "Good dream or bad dream?"

"Good. Always good."

He nodded, trying for a small smile. "The fern… It meant I could come in, right?"

"Glad you got the message," you answered. Out on the sills of all your windows, you left ferns. They meant a lot of things - fascination, magic, enchantment, sincerity, and shelter - and you'd told Bucky they were his plant, back when he and Sam came to offer you a job with The Avengers. At the entry points to your home, they were an open invitation for him, a coded welcome mat.

"Didn't want to wake you," Bucky said.

"I'm awake now. What do you need?"

He thought for a moment. He needed a lot of things, many of which you could definitely provide. "Tea? Thought maybe you could mix some for me to take home. Maybe give to the others,"

"I can do one better than that. I can make everyone their own blend. It will be fun. Come on. I'll teach you how," you said, pulling the blankets away and getting out of bed.

Bucky stood, looking a little alarmed. "You don't have to-"

"I know, Buck. But I want to. Come on."

It took all day, but eventually you had packaged up individual tea blends for everyone. Bucky got a stash of his special sleepy tea, and he already looked more rested with it in his possession. You walked him to the door sometime just before 5:00 pm.

"Thank you," he said, quiet and reflective.

"Easy. You're always welcome here. Sam - not so much. But you - always," you told him, leaning against the frame of your front door.

"Might take you up on that,"

"Please do," you said nodding.

Bucky smiled, went to leave, but turned back like he was going to say something. You stood straight, patient. His brain was ticking, thinking something over. Deciding. Then, he moved. Quickly, he stepped back and pressed a fast but soft kiss to your lips. He was gone, literally nowhere to be seen, before you had time to say or do anything.

 …

 The Hudson River sparkled under the sunset. Bucky watched the colours reflect the scene, like one of Steve's paintings. He was lost in a daydream when Sam nudged him.

"Where you at, man?" he asked.

Bucky looked over at Sam and Steve, who were both eyeing him off suspiciously. They'd carried a couple of couches to the roof. Stolen Clint's beer and set up shop for the night. Pizza was on its way.

"What?" Bucky asked.

"You were thinking about her again, huh?" Steve guessed.

Bucky looked back at the river, ignored his friends. They laughed, returned to their conversation.

Later, when Sam had retired to his room, not able to superhuman heat himself, Steve moved over to lounge next to Bucky. He rested his head on Bucky's shoulder and closed his eyes.

"You really like her, don't you?"

"I think I love her," Bucky replied.

Steve laughed at the speed of the response. "I think you might too. All those girls before, and you never really loved any of them... Guess you stuck around to meet her,"

"Seems that way,"

"You gonna do anything about it?" Steve asked.

"Yeah… It's gotta be good though," Bucky said, only then realising the depth of his feelings.

"Wouldn't wait too long, pal."

 ….

 Bucky took you up on your invitation, coming and going from your place frequently. Sometimes, you'd find fresh croissants left on your kitchen bench. Sometimes, you'd find him asleep on your couch. 

How much he needed from you varied, but how much he was willing to give seemed infinite. You had to proactively stop him from becoming some sort of amazing housekeeper slash meal provider.

After about a month, he settled enough to be able to just exist around you. He'd help you pick the right leaves for the teas you made people. He'd disappear into your bedroom when you had clients over, reading their cards while Bucky listened in like it was a television series. It was easy being around him, and you were ready to be patient for a lot longer, but fuck were you itching for more.

The kissing was sweet, but very often brief. Bucky caught your lips in the moments between your magic and his profound awe. You did what you could to encourage him, but knew the ball was well and truly in his court. So, when he ushered you outside one sunny morning, you didn't really have much expectation.

"I thought you'd never ask," you said, face lighting up when you saw Bucky's bike out the front of your place. New York City was buzzing around you, but as soon as you watched him get on and hand you a helmet, you'd never craved the open road more.

All the other times you'd been to The Avengers compound, you'd traveled by air. It was quick. The ride took longer but it was so much better. Having your arms wrapped around Bucky, the feeling of the bike rumbling under you, it was something new, which was all sorts of remarkable. Being magic sapped a lot of the wonder from the world, ironically. Bucky was bringing it back.

At the compound, Bucky took your hand and lead you around the side, not going in. "I've, ah, got something for you," he said.

"You sound nervous,"

"Yeah. If you could just cast up a little spell to get rid of that, it would be great," he said deadpan.

You laughed while looking around for clues to Bucky's surprise for you.

Rounding a corner, it came into view. A garden. A proper garden, complete with white picket fencing surrounding it. It was like something out of Practical Magic, and all your childhood dreams.

"What is this?"

"It's for you. A place you can grow whatever you need. Or want," Bucky said.

In a state of genuine shock, you let go of Bucky's hand and covered your mouth with yours. You had never seen anything more spectacular.

At the single entrance to the garden was an arch. Ivy and honeysuckle covered it completely, like they'd had a lot of time to grow. You pulled a flower from the arch, reaching up to find a full bloom. "Honeysuckle petals are edible," you said, reaching out to Bucky. He let you feed him the flower. "Sweet, like the perfume. They symbolism devotion, or being 'united in love.' Kinda like the ivy on it. Ivy symbolises attraction."

Bucky smiled wide, his eyes sparkling as he watched you walk further in. "We tried to make sections, you know, for the different plants. Like, this part here has sandy soil for the desert plants," he explained.

"We?"

"Got a lot of help from the others,"

"I'll have to thank them," you said.

There were veggie patches and small fruit trees. Almost half the garden was designated to all the types of plants Bucky had seen you use in potions and teas. Dog rose, blackthorn, rosemary, euphorbia, snowdrop flowers, bells of Ireland, and welcoming wisteria. The raised beds were overflowing with plants, just about ready to bloom in an explosion of colour.

"This… This is incredible,"

"Figured your apartment doesn't really have the space. And you're welcome here anytime,"

"I’ll wanna be here all the time." The garden was what your magical ancestors could have only dreamed of. "I don’t even know what to look at first,"

"Well, maybe that," Bucky said, pointing to a birdbath, where butterflies were hovering over the water. The best part though, was a small sign sticking out the ground next to it that read For Sam.

You laughed. "Oh my god,"

"He was so grumpy about it,"

"Shouldn't have named himself after a bird then," you reasoned.

Bucky nodded, grinning. "And we put that bench opposite so you could sit and watch them."

Your eyes were beginning to tear up, overwhelmed with the sheer amount of love and effort surrounding you. "Buck… I just can't…"

"Oh! And, one more thing. This was Wanda's idea. Come on."

Bucky took your hand and lead you through the garden to the back to where a weeping mulberry tree stood in the corner. He pushed through the soft branches, revealing the manicured underside. A green, little cave under the canopy held secret another wooden bench. Bucky sat down, otherwise he'd have to bend. It was the perfect height for you though, but you sat next to him anyway.

From under the mulberry tree you could see the rest of the garden. All the plants swayed in the warm breeze, and the flowers popped bright and happy.

"How long have you been working on this? Some of those are grown well in,"

"You don't need to know any of that. Takes away the magic, don't it?"

"You mean, a magician doesn't reveal his secrets and all that?" you asked.

Bucky shrugged and nodded, leaning back into the bench a little more and putting an arm around you. Snuggling into his side, you breathed out and just soaked it all in. Your mind was caught between racing with ideas of all the things you could do with the garden and plants, and totally turning to blissful mush.

"I know ya never wanted to work with us, but I'm glad Nat found you. Glad I met you," Bucky said, his voice back to being a little bit shaky, nervous. "You've made my life better, you know? Not just with the, the nightmares, but just… everything. You make everything better…"

You knew he wasn't finished, so you stayed quiet while he gathered his thoughts. In the meantime, you threaded your fingers through his, rubbed your thumb along the back of his hand.

"I used to be so good at this," he said, huffing a little.

It made you giggle. "Used to be good at what?" you asked knowingly, sitting up and looking at him.

He rolled his eyes. "Y/N! I'm tryna' tell you I'm sweet on you and you're gonna give me shit,"

"Yeah, I am. I'm also gonna give you shit about the phrase 'sweet on you' too," you replied, laughing.

Bucky smiled, watching you laugh, just happy you were happy. When you stopped, he sat up and used both hands to fold the hair behind your ears. Holding your face in his hands, he tried to not grin like an idiot. He couldn’t hide the smirk.

"I love you. I'm in love with you," he said, voice finally dead certain.

"Yeah, the garden was a bit of a giveaway," you replied, quickly adding, "And that's good. 'Cause I'm in love with you too. Very completely."

Bucky made the kind of expression you'd pull at a basket of mewing kittens, or a puppy tumbling across fresh cut lawn. It was very, very kissable. So, you did want any self-respecting witch would do. You kissed Bucky Barnes like your life depended on it in the secret mulberry tree cave he had made just for you.

 ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

My taglist (open): @bubbabarnes @browngirlmagic @lookalivefrosty @aynaraxas @vibraniumwitch @the--sad--hatter​ @fairislesheets​ @vibraniumdaisies​ @cristie24​ 

[jamaisjoons]

suncity | jhs

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦:〝 when you’d taken a spontaneous trip to Barcelona, you hadn’t expected to meet hoseok. more than that, you hadn’t expected to begin a torrid affair with him. 〞stranges to lovers au. vacation au.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: hoseok x reader

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: angst ⋆ fluff ⋆ smut

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 17k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: grinding in public (just dancing), kissing, nipple play, fingering, dom!Hoseok, sub!Reader, dirty talk, praise, degradation, cum eating, cum swapping? penetration, creampie, public sex, blowjob, cum swallowing, sacrilege, exhibitionism, the slightest daddy kink (literally used twice,,, for sacrilegious purposes), rough sex, cunningulus, sweet lowkey sad sex, sex on a boat // there are three different smut scenes

➵ 𝑎/𝑛: hello!! here is the third instalment of the mixtape series! I had quite a bit of fun with this au and I just,,,, fell in love with jung hoseok all over again and I hope you do too! thank you to my beta reader @slashgashbridesmaid for being wonderful and editing this for me!

⇥ part of the mixtape series

Stepping out of the air-conditioned airport, you take in a deep breath, the humidity mixed with the heat already seeping into your pores, sweat forming around your temples. The sun blazes overhead, the sky completely cloudless and streets bustling with both traffic and people. You have no idea if it is the bright weather, the stunning vintage architecture, or just a placebo effect, but everything about Barcelona feels completely different from Seoul. Which, of course, it is, but it’s almost as if the air itself is different. It feels electric; livelier.

You take another deep breath, relishing in the complete change of pace. Barcelona. You’re really in Barcelona. You hadn’t really planned this. In fact, this was probably the most impulsive decision you had made in a very long time, but recently, you’d just had enough of the same routine, fast-paced life in Seoul and you had desperately needed a change of pace lest you finally lose your mind. Thus, you had hopped in the first cab you could hail, ridden straight to Incheon Airport, and grabbed the first flight with a seat open to the sunniest available destination, which just happened to be Barcelona.

Grabbing the handle of your small roller suitcase, you begin walking down the streets, more lost than you had been in, well, years. You’d gotten so used to expertly navigating the streets of Seoul that the sudden displacement and unfamiliarity of Barcelona sent a rush of exhilaration down your spine. Aimlessly wandering down the streets, you can’t help but be in awe of the sights. Everything is vibrant, pulsating with life and music, from the bright vivid colours of various flags, shops and people to the low thrumming of different songs blending together in an intoxicating amalgamation of rhythms.

You find yourself inexplicably drawn down a random street, a rhythmic Spanish beat getting louder and louder. Almost as if it called out to you, you find yourself being drawn to it, like a sailor to a siren’s song. Stopping short, you spot a large group of people gathered around a huge circle painted on the floor. There’s a band playing their instruments and a man singing in Spanish as people bustle around, some even dancing. Stall vendors occupy the outskirts, smiling and singing along to the music as tourists and locals sit around.

“Miss? Free Sangria?” a woman asks, popping out of nowhere. Her voice is thick with her accent and her eyes kind. Your eyes widen slightly before you graciously accept the small cup of red wine and chopped fruit. Somewhere in the back of your mind, your consciousness screams at you to not accept random drinks from strangers, but you’re already losing yourself in the free spirit of Barcelona.

“Sorry, do you know where I am?” you ask, trying your best to communicate. The woman looks at you apologetically, replying in Spanish before wandering off back to her stall. You let out a sigh, looking around and wondering if you could find someone that could guide you to a nearby hotel or something. Perhaps wandering down the streets of an unfamiliar location was a bad idea. Exhaling heavily, you take a sip of your drink, eyes widening at the pleasant taste. You’d always hated red wine, finding the acidic taste too sour and tart. However, mixed with the chopped fruit, orange juice, and lemonade, the taste more than appealing.

Continuously sipping your drink, you walk further into the crowd, the sensual beat of the music only getting louder. Breaking further into the throng of people, you stop. You’re close enough to the band that the sultry cadence of the instruments vibrates through your bones. You’re pleasantly surprised by the man dancing in front of the band, muscles moving to the beat. It’s as if he were music himself; as if the bassline of Spanish melody coursed through his veins. Each sensuous movement of his limbs was completely in tune with the undercurrent of the music. The most surprising thing, however, was that unlike the rest of the people dancing he wasn’t Spanish, yet, he moved with just as much intensity. You couldn’t help but notice that he was also definitely better than the natives.

Your eyes stay focused on him, unable to look away. The way he moves is intoxicating, and you simply can’t find it in yourself to pull your gaze away. More than that, you just don’t want to. Watching him dance is almost like watching the waves of the sea: each movement flows like water. His moves glide into the next with relative ease, completely in tune to the undercurrent of the melody. His hips swivel sensually, rocking to the rhythm as his thighs ripple in light-wash ripped jeans. The song slowly fades to the end, the guitarist playing the final few chords.

Sounds of cheering fill the air. The dancing man turns around and bows deeply. Then, he catches your eye, and you can’t help but gasp. He’s beautiful, with caramel skin that glows and brown eyes that lighten to a dark shade of honey due to the sunlight. He’s got the largest heart-shaped smile, and you may be in the sunniest city of Barcelona, but you can’t help thinking that his smile could rival the sun. He’s slightly out of breath, and sweat drips down the outline of his face, seeping into his slightly sweat-soaked hair.

He gazes at you with idle curiosity. You have no idea how long you stare at each other but the strumming of guitar strings has him breaking away. He slides towards you, a swivel in his hips, and before you know it, he’s grabbing you by the hand, empty Sangria glass dropping before he drags you into the throng of dancing bodies.

You don’t know why you allow him to pull you along. Perhaps it’s the alluring Spanish rhythm or maybe the glass of Sangria you’ve consumed on an empty stomach, or maybe, just maybe, it’s the way his eyes inexplicably glint in the sunlight, but either way, you allow him to pull you onto the makeshift dance floor. The movement of his hands lifting towards you catches your eyes, and with a surprised gasp, you feel his hands rest on your hips. He pulls you close enough to him that he’s able to slide his leg between your thighs.

You stare up at him through the thick of your eyelashes; his breath fans your face and you can almost taste him. He tastes like Sangria and sugar. When the beat picks up, you feel his hands on your hips tighten and then he’s swirling you both in one deep circle. Your breath hitches, eyes flicking to the thigh between yours, caramel skin peeking through his jeans. Again, he rolls both your hips, deeper this time: your ass brushing closer to his crotch.

You feel something deep within you telling you to give in and let him guide your hips. It’s hard to resist, and so you find yourself throwing caution to the wind. His lips quirk up into a smirk, his eyes darkening marginally. You feel your heart speed up, hammering in your chest as adrenaline courses through your veins. When the song deepens into a more sensuous rhythm, he spins you around before pulling you back. His hips are pressed into your ass, knees against the back of yours. You let out a breathy exhale, his hips rolling once again.

One of the hands currently placed on your hips moves, sliding across your stomach until it wraps around your waist. He pulls you closer, hand guiding your hips against him. You aid his movements, rolling your hips and grinding against him of your own volition. When his nose runs along the column of your neck, you let out a moan despite yourself, heat already beginning to pool in your stomach. It shouldn’t be turning you on. You’re in a foreign country, grinding on a man whose name you don’t even know. It definitelyshould not be turning you on, yet, the way he rolls his body against yours, his groin twisting into yours, leaves you even more breathless than your movements.

A particularly deep pivot of his hips, paired with you grinding lower, your crotch brushing against his thigh, has you throwing your head back into his shoulder. He lifts his head up, lips brushing against the outer shell of your ear. Hazily, you recognise that he’s singing. Your ears strain, core dripping when you hear the dulcet sound of his voice echo in your ear. His voice is soft, and he sings with such a smooth accent that you’d think he was a native. Spanish was already such a sensual, romantic language, yet, with the way he’s singing, you can’t help but think it sounds even more erotic, his voice dripping with sex.

You can’t think straight, the heady scent of his sweat-soaked skin and the low rumbling of his singing against your ear leaving you spellbound. You can’t bring yourself to pull away from him, even when the hand on your hip moves slightly under your top, even when his lips brush against your collarbone. However, you don’t want to pull away, so instead, you roll your head to the side, giving him more access.

Lust clouds your every movement. Your arms twist backwards, wrapping around his neck as your movements become more exaggerated. He chuckles in your ear, and you find yourself gasping at the sound. It’s light and practically twinkles in your eardrum, completely different from the sultry atmosphere, but it only draws you deeper into him, your body rolling both with and against his. Vageuly, you hear the song slowly begin to fade as it comes to an end. Your hips move slower, now more sensuous than needy, until the beat finally hums to a stop.

His arm tightens around you, fingers flexing and digging into your hip, just under your top. You both pant, heat flushing and prickling against your skin. Slowly, your eyes flutter open; you don’t even remember at which point they shut. You can feel his breath, hot and heavy against your ear. The haze in your mind slowly clears, and the cheering of the people around you fills your ears once again. Immediately, the man is twirling you until you’re facing him. His eyes are dark, lust swimming in his coffee irises. Then tension between you both is so palpable, it practically suffocates you. Your eyes flick to his lips; they’re pink and luscious, a small mole on the left of his top lip drawing your attention.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” he asked, his voice strained with lust.

You should say no. You don’t even know his name. He’s a complete stranger in a foreign country.

“Yes.”

Your decision is completely impulsive, the word tumbling out of your mouth before you can even think about it. Then, he grabs your hand, snatching your suitcase before pulling you along the streets of Barcelona.

He pushes you against the hotel room door, lips feverish against yours. Your suitcase lies forgotten, his hands digging into your hair and pulling you into him. You moan when his tongue brushes against the seam of your lips. Without hesitation, you part your lips, letting his tongue slide into your mouth. Your own hands desperately wander over his chest before they fist in his collar. He pulls away, and you can hear the rustle of fabric as you urgently press your mouth towards the column of his neck.

Your teeth scrape against his neck, causing him to hiss. You hear the swipe of his keycard as he attempts to open his hotel door, hands shaky with lust. Moments later, he finally succeeds. The door pushes behind you, and the only reason you don’t tumble back is due to his strong arms wrapping around you as he draws you in for another kiss. You groan against him, letting him push you inside as he kicks your suitcase into his room before shutting the door.

Long, slender fingers fervently divest you of your top before expertly unclasping your bra. You gasp out as the cool air of his air-conditioned hotel room hits your skin, nipples hardening to stiff peaks. He immediately bends down, taking a nipple in his mouth before a gentle bite causes you to cry out in pleasure. You feel him smirk against your breast, tongue swirling around as he lightly sucks. Your hands begin vigorously unbuttoning his shirt before impatiently sliding it off of his shoulders. He twists his arms, slipping his shirt off of them and leaving both of your top halves naked.

He stands back up, his lips barely brushing against yours before he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth. He pushes you backwards, and you fall onto the bed with a slight bounce as he crawls on top of you. You lean up, hands twisting into his thick, dark locks as you pull him closer to you, kissing him passionately once again. His hand slides down your body, your back arching when he brushes against a nipple before he’s thrusting his hand down your jeans, completely bypassing your panties.

Long, expert fingers brush against your clit, and you break your kiss, crying out against his lips. Your pussy is unbelievably hot, stifled in the material of your panties and jeans. He brushes his fingers against your clit again, lips trailing down your jaw. Deft fingers part your lips before he plunges a single digit into you, simultaneously biting the supple skin of your throat particularly harshly. Instantly, his actions have you crying out, your cunt walls gripping around his finger at the mixture of both pain and pleasure.

“Please-” you gasp out. You want to cry out his name, but you have no idea what it is.

“Please what, sweetheart?” he asks, chuckling against the skin of your neck. Despite his words, however, he sinks a second finger into you. You hiss, biting your lip. He doesn’t have enough room to move around due to your jeans, so instead, he pulls his fingers out. You whine, hips chasing his hand as you buck into the air. He grins at you before suckling his fingers, licking your arousal clean off of them.

“More,” you whine, wanting his fingers back against you. He kisses down your body until he comes to the waistband of your jeans. His fingers make quick work of your button and zipper before he pulls both your jeans and panties down your legs. You help him kick them off, and then he’s parting your legs. He groans, eyes feasting on your pussy. The heady scent of your sex is heavy in the air, and you blush, attempting to close your legs.

“Don’t” is all he says as he parts your thighs once more. He leans into the space between your thighs, pressing a soft kiss against your clit. You cry out, your hip thrusting into his face as your cunt flutters, releasing another gush of wetness. He pushes his soft lips against your clit, tongue flicking out and licking the little hardened nub as he sinks his finger back into you. You cry out once again, hands automatically moving to play with your breasts.

Messily, he eats out your cunt, tongue lashing against your clit as he plunges his finger in and out of your clenching walls. He draws out feverish, breathless moans from you as he pushes a second finger into you, scissoring your walls. There’s a slight pain to the stretch, but you’re too lost in the sensation of his lips around your clit. He gently bites your clit, sucking harshly as his fingers piston into you, and, all of a sudden, you’re crying out.

“Are you cumming?” he asks, and you can’t find it in yourself to string together a cohesive thought, so instead, you just moan louder. “Cum then.” He chuckles. The vibration of his words has your orgasm ricocheting through you, thighs shivering on either side of his head.

“Good. That’s my good little slut. Cum for me. Cum on fingers,” he goads, drawing out your orgasm. Your walls clench tightly, forcing his fingers out of you. He lets out a little groan, instead his lips moving down to your cunt as he laps at your cum. When the trembling of your thighs calms down to erratic spasms, he finally leaves your cunt. Crawling back over you, he leans on top of you before he draws your lips into his for a kiss. You moan against him, licking his lips. He slides his tongue into your mouth, your tongues curling against each other as you taste yourself. You’re thick on his tongue, your cum carrying across his mouth and into yours.

When he pulls away, a narrow string of your saliva and arousal clings between your lips until it breaks away, dripping down your chin. Your tongue flicks out, swiping at it before you swallow. He groans on top of you, pushing his damp locks out of his eyes and behind his head. Your core immediately tightens. He’d looked beautiful with his bangs down, but with them out of the way and his forehead exposed? He was a completely different human being. He was practically god-like.

“Want you,” you mewl out, still not knowing his name. His jaw twitches and you watch as nimble fingers unbutton the trousers of his jeans. He pushes both his trousers and boxers down his thighs, not bothering to take them off. His cock releases with a slight bounce before standing to attention. Your mouth immediately goes dry and you watch as he fists his length. He’s deliciously long and so incredibly veiny: the perfect cock to ride. Precum drips out of the slit on his cockhead, and he’s immediately scooting closer to you, hips pressed between your thighs till you feel the heat of his dick brush against your hot cunt.

You cry out at the sensation, feeling him rub his cock through your folds. Finding your cunt, he presses his cock in slowly, inch by inch, sinking into you and opening you out. You let out a heavy groan, feeling him slowly opening your walls until he finally bottoms out with a hiss. You feel the rough denim of his jeans scrape against your sensitive inner thighs as he draws out of you before thrusting back in.

He falls over you, his arms caging you as they strain on either side of your head. You can spot the slight twitches of his biceps as he sensually rolls his hips into yours. It’s completely unfair. You were used to stilted movements and plain thrusts, but the way his hips grind into you has you feeling a different level of ecstasy. Each of his movements is calculated and flows into the next. The way his hips undulate has his cock gliding into you at different angles, hitting your depths differently with each thrust and slowly driving you wild.

“More- faster,” you groan out, your hands shooting out and gripping into his shoulder. He hisses on top of you, lowering his body until his chest is pressed against yours, the speed of his thrusts increasing. The change in position lets him hit deeper, and you groan every time he bottoms out; his hips continue swivelling sensually, the tip of his cock brushing against the sensitive spot inside you over and over again.

Your hands slide down his back, nails scraping against his skin and leaving angry, red welts in their wake. The pain has him grunting, his hips rocking harder into you. You feel your orgasm slowly begin to build up, the brushing of his cockhead against your g-spot causing your eyes to roll into the back of your skull. He shifts on top of you, one of his hands moving to rub your clit, the other hand straining under all his weight. He can feel his own end near, his cock pulsing inside you.

“Cum again. Cum on my cock,” he commands, thumb repeatedly flicking against your clit. You keen under his actions and dig your fingernails into his flesh harder, almost breaking the skin as your second orgasm washes over you. You cry out loudly, voice cracking. He lets out a deeper grunt, the movement of his hips turning stilted as he fucks into you. The rippling of your cunt walls around him, paired with the gush of your cum has him impaling his cock into you as hard as he could, burying into you deeply.

His hand leaves your clit, fisting in the sheets by your head as he practically collapses on top of you. You feel him spurt rope after rope of his cum into you, coating your walls white. He stays buried in you moments longer, both of you panting as you try to catch your breaths. Finally, when he struggles to hold his weight on top of you, he slowly pulls out his cock, rolling over and flopping onto the bed beside you. You feel his cum slowly leak out of you, moaning before shutting your thighs, your muscles protesting the movement.

“I’m-” he begins before gasping for air, “Hoseok by the way,” he finishes, introducing himself. You want to laugh at the absurdity of it all. He had justfucked you senseless and was just nowintroducing himself? You want to reply with something witty, but your brain refuses to put together a single coherent sentence, so, instead, you keep it simple.

“I’m ____.”

The next morning, your eyes flutter open. Thick streams of sunlight burst through the lace curtains of the hotel room, and with an annoyed groan, you roll over, burying your face into the pillow. A small chuckle rings through your ears, causing your face to scrunch into the pillow. Sitting up in bed, you look around, eyes stopping short at the man you’d both danced with and fucked yesterday. He’s seated casually on the sofa facing the bed, cross-legged and watching you with an amused grin. You blush under his gaze, drawing the sheets further to your chest.

“I was wondering when you’d wake up, but I figured the jet lag would have caught up to you,” Hoseok chuckles, smiling at you. You bite your lips, the dimples on the top of his lips indenting. Your heart speeds up slightly. How had you not noticed them before?

“Sorry, you should have woken me up and kicked me out,” you reply, voice groggy from sleep.

“I could have, but I didn’t want to. Do you want to join me for breakfast?” Hoseok asks. You chew your lip as you contemplate the decision. Shouldyou have breakfast with a complete stranger in his hotel room while in a foreign country? Probably not. Then again, you can’t help musing, you’d already fucked him. Besides, you’d spent the night with him, and he hadn’t murdered you; so that was a good sign, right? Hoseok quirks his eyebrow, gaze levelled at you as he awaits your decision. The sound of your stomach growling has you nodding your assent.

“Perfect. I was thinking we could have breakfast out on the balcony. There’s a stunning view of Barcelona. I’ll let you get ready. The bathroom is just through that door. Here,” Hoseok says. He throws you the shirt he wore last night before walking through the large door and out onto the balcony. You slip his shirt on, buttoning it up before walking towards your suitcase. Hastily, you pull out a pair of fresh panties along with your toiletries before entering the bathroom.

Once you were done freshening up, you pad onto the balcony. Your toes curl at the cold marble against your feet. The sun isn’t out like it had been yesterday, but the day was still incredibly bright, the sky vividly azure and obstructed by just a few clouds. Hoseok sits casually, facing the Spanish horizon, the quaint city of Barcelona just below him. The scene is almost picture-perfect, the mix of Catalan Gothic architecture, large steeples and towers from the various cathedrals, paired with the more modern buildings only adding to the charm.

You clear your throat, feet shifting as you announce your presence. Hoseok turns around with a soft smile on his face, and you can’t help the way your breath hitches. He’s dressed casually in a white linen shirt and denim shorts, his hair falling onto his forehead. He’s beautiful. In fact, he’s probably the most beautiful man you’ve ever laid your eyes on. He gestures towards the seat opposite him, his eyes trailing over your figure, dressed in nothing but his shirt and your panties. Suddenly, you feel nervous. Maybe you should have gotten dressed? You pad over to him, smiling timidly as you take a seat.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d want, so I just got a bit of everything,” Hoseok informs, gesturing towards the mix of cut fruit, Spanish hams, eggs, and various pieces of bread. Your stomach growls once again, making him chuckle as you help yourself.

“I couldn’t help but notice your luggage tag. You flew in from Seoul?” Hoseok asks, mouth slightly muffled by food. You finish chewing the morsel in your mouth and swallow before replying.

“Yeah, I live there.”

“Wow, small world. I live there too. Why are you here?” He asks curiously before popping some chorizo is his mouth.

“I guess I just got bored with everyday life? Things were just becoming… boring. And I hadn’t travelled in years, so, I went to Incheon, booked the first available flight, which just happened to be to Barcelona, and, well, here I am. For about a week. How about you?” you ask, wondering what his story was.

“I was here on business. I own a company, and some of my clients are Spanish,” Hoseok says. Your eyebrows knit together, looking at him oddly.

“And that business entailed dancing on the street or…?” you tease. Hoseok clicks his tongue at you, sipping his orange juice.

“CEOs have hobbies too! Also, I said I wason business, but that ended a few days ago. Now, I’m on vacation for two weeks,” he continues, looking at you pointedly. You find yourself laughing, somehow feeling completely at ease with him despite knowing him less than a day.

“You seem to know your way through Barcelona well. Do you come here often?” you ask curiously, remembering how easily he’d navigated you from the plaza and towards his hotel.

“Mhm. Maybe once every three months? My Spanish clients are very important, and they like meeting in person. This is my permanent hotel room,” Hoseok says, throwing his arms out and gesturing towards the room. Your eyes bug out of your skull.

“Permanent?”

“Yeah. I own this hotel, and, since I need to be here every few months, it made sense to have a permanent residence,” Hoseok says. His tone is completely casual, but you have no idea how to point out that that isn’t a normaleveryday thing.

“If you want, you can stay with me. I could show you around,” Hoseok offers, and you feel your eyebrows shoot straight into your hairline.

“Oh- Oh no! I couldn’t possibly ask you to do that,” you try to refuse. As lovely as that sounded, you didn’t want to impose on his holiday.

“Oh come on! I know my way around pretty well, and you’ll need a guide considering you came here with no plan. It’ll be fun. What do you say?” Hoseok suggests. You shut your mouth, brain whirring. He made some valid points. You were completely lost in Barcelona with no money considering you hadn’t bothered to convert your currency. Plus, he seemed nice enough from what you knew, andyou enjoyed spending time with him.

“Alright. I’ll take you up on that offer,” you finally agree. Hoseok smiles at you brightly, pretty teeth on display. You swallow thickly, wondering if his smile was always as dazzlingly beautiful as it currently was.

“Perfect. Do you have a hotel room? If not, I can book you a room here, unless you want to stay with me?” Hoseok asks, eyes flicking briefly towards your chest peeking through his shirt. Your core clenches at the suggestion in his tone. Your mind reels back to the previous night, and just the memory of your orgasm has your toes curling. You make your second impulsive decision then and there.

“I’d like that.”

It’s not as if you have anything to lose.

Hours later, you find yourself being pulled by Hoseok into Barcelona Cathedral. You stop short once inside, in awe of the beautiful interior. Candles illuminate the area, sunlight streaming through large arched windows. The ceiling is incredibly high, gargoyles of varying creatures, from animals to mythical beings, decorating the roofing. The pillars are simple, made up of alternating bricks: stones that are greying, blackened, and smudged. You wonder what it would have looked like when it was first built and brand new. The interior is truly beautiful, and you can almost feel the history seeping out of each and every slab of stone, depicting events that people have forgotten but time has not.

Hoseok smiles at you, gripping your hand and walking further into the building. You gasp as you draw nearer towards the altar. The walls around the seating are ornately designed, intricate patterns of gold glittering in the amber light. There are quite a few people milling about, some kneeling and praying while others quietly walk around, taking in the sights like you were. As beautiful as it is, this was arguably notwhat you had in mind when you’d asked Hoseok to show you a side of Barcelona no tourist guide could ever show you; something you express to him.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be getting to that,” Hoseok whispers against your ears. His words are ominous, his voice lower than usual, vibrating through your ears and causing heat to pool in your belly. Your face flushes in mortification. You could notget horny in a church. There was far too much wrong with that.

Still holding onto your hand, Hoseok drags you further into the church. Your eyes flick to your entwined hands, your fingers locked together. His palms are small, but his fingers long and slender, yet are the perfect size in your own hand. It’s a small gesture, and Hoseok probably doesn’t even think about it, but you can’t stop thinking about how his hand feels. You shake your head slightly, trying to clear your mind. You had just met.

“So, what about this is something a normal tour guide couldn’t show me?” you ask, wanting to prevent your mind from straying into dangerous territory.

“This,” Hoseok says, stopping in front of an empty confessional booth. You look at him closely, peering through the holes within the baroquely carved wood. It’s too dark inside, however, and you can’t see a single thing.

“A confession boo-” you say, but before you can finish your words, Hoseok is dragging you inside.

“Hoseok!” you cry out, Hoseok immediately shushing you. He pushes you against the door, his nose running along the column of your throat before his hand slides down your stomach, rubbing just above the waistband of your skirt.

“This is what’s different. No tour guide would fuck you in a confession booth,” Hoseok whispers in your ear. Your pussy gushes into your panties, your breathing becoming laboured.

“Do you want that sweetheart? Do you want me to fuck you here?” Hoseok asks. You whine, pushing your ass against him. Hoseok chuckles before pushing your skirt up to your hips and sliding your panties to the side. His fingers swipe across your slit, leaving them dewy with your arousal. He pulls his fingers up to his lips, licking off your slick.

“You’re already so wet, sweetheart. I bet I could just slide into you,” Hoseok whispers, thumb brushing against your clit over and over again. You groan, pussy clamping and releasing another gush of wetness.

“Please.”

Hoseok groans at the want in your voice. He quickly moves his hand towards his shorts and unbuttons them. His hands move feverishly, pushing his trousers down to his thighs before gripping his cock and running it through your folds. You let out a high pitched whine, wanting his cock buried into you.

“Quiet. We don’t want people to catch you being a little slut for me,” Hoseok orders, and with that, he slides into you in one motion. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth before biting hard, trying to suppress your scream. Leaning your head against the door to the confession booth, you twist one hand back to rest on his torso, stilling his movement.

“Just- give me some time,” you sputter. The lack of preparation had you hissing in pain, taking in a deep breath as you tried to get used to him inside you. Hoseok brushes his lips against your shoulder blade, shushing you. You both stay still for a few long moments before you finally give Hoseok the go-ahead.

“Good girl,” are his only words before he pulls out, and then he’s slamming into you once again. The force of his thrust has you hurtling into the door with a slight bang causing it to vibrate.

“Hold yourself. I’m gonna fuck this dirty pussy real good, and I want you to be quiet,” Hoseok hisses, cock plunging into your depths again. You quietly whimper, Hoseok pinching your clit as punishment.

“I said quiet.”

You nod, taking in a shuddering breath. Hoseok’s hips lunge forward once again, and this time you manage to keep quiet, earning you a kiss on your shoulder. His soft attention has you keening. Then he’s back to setting his brutal pace, fucking his cock into you over and over again. His rough movement has you struggling to keep quiet, wanting nothing more than to scream out in ecstasy. People wander closer to the booth, and you’re able to peak at them through the small, carved out gaps of the door. Your stomach flips in fear, and your pussy gushes at the thrill. You could be caught with Hoseok’s cock buried deep within your cunt any moment.

“Fuck, do you like that? Do you like watching people pray while you get this pretty little cunt stuffed?” Hoseok whispers into your ear, his words causing your pussy to clench involuntarily.

“Yes. Shit, you do. You’re such a dirty little slut. I think you need to confess your sins,” Hoseok continues, your eyes rolling into the back of your skull when he hits particularly deep. All of a sudden, Hoseok swats your ass, and you have to bite your lip even harder to prevent yourself from moaning out loud.

“I said tell daddy your sins.”

“I’m sorry daddy; I’ve been so bad.”

“How?” Hoseok asks, plunging in deeper, one hand moving to play with your clit as he bites your earlobe.

“I’m being a dirty slut.”

“Keep going.”

“I’m getting my pussy fucked deep while people are outside praying. I’m being a dirty little slut by letting you pound my little cunt when people are around us. Hoseok-” you whine lowly, pushing your hips out. You can feel your skin begin to prickle with the heat of your orgasm, Hoseok’s fingers strumming your clit only driving you closer to the edge. How were you supposed to keep quiet when you came? Almost as if your prayers were being answered, you hear the loud baritone sound of the organ. High pitched voices of the choir members join the loud melody, your ears almost deafened by the sound. Hoseok smirks into the back of your head.

“Are you cumming sweetheart? Are you gonna be a good little girl for me and cream my cock?” Hoseok asks, lips brushing against your ears so you can hear him over the music.

“Yes! Hoseok, please,” you mewl. Your heart pounds in your eardrums as you teeter over the edge of your orgasm. Hoseok bites your earlobe, rubbing your clit harder.

“Cum. Be a good girl, and scream for me.” With that, you hurtle over the precipice, your orgasm washing over you in waves. Your thighs shake uncontrollably as you brace against the door. Thankfully, your screams are drowned out by the choir, Hoseok chuckling as he continues pistoning in and out of you.

When your legs finally stop shaking, Hoseok pulls out of you, sliding your panties back in place. You groan at the sticky feeling, your cum soaking into the material and wetting your thighs. Hoseok pulls your skirt back over your ass before flipping you around. He places one of his hands on your shoulder and guides you onto your knees, pumping his cock with his other hand.

“Now. I want you to be good and worship my cock,” Hoseok says, staring down at you through dark eyes. He brushes his cock against your lips, staining them in both his precum and your cunt juice.

You open your mouth, taking him into your cavern. The taste of you is heavy on his cock, masking his own headier taste. Your tongue swirls around his cock, gathering your essence before swallowing thickly. You close your eyes, bobbing up and down on his cock. Hoseok groans in approval, tenderly petting your hair and gathering your locks into a ponytail before thrusting his cock further down your throat. His sudden movement has you gagging, saliva coating his cock.

“Fuck that’s it. You’re so good. I’m going to cum,” Hoseok sighs, throwing his head back. You increase your efforts as you bob harder, wanting nothing more than to taste him in your throat. Hoseok thrusts into your throat once, twice, and then thrice before stilling. With a quiet hiss, he cums down your throat. You feel him fill up your mouth, swallowing him down as quick as you can, relishing in his taste. When his cock goes limp, he finally pulls it out, tucking himself back into his trousers.

Hoseok grabs you by the chin, pulling you up to your feet before taking your swollen lips between his. His tongue licks the seam of your mouth, and you grant him access, letting his tongue slip between your lips. His hand entwines into your hair, tongue moving sensually against your own. You moan into the kiss, drawing closer to him until your chests are flush against each other. Hoseok’s kiss is completely different from the way he fucks: he’s gentle and tastes sweet. You find yourself lost in him, allowing his presence to drown you.

His lips are incredibly soft against your own, his hand moving to delicately cup your neck and pull your face higher. When he inevitably pulls away, he has you completely spellbound and chasing his lips, not wanting the kiss to end. Hoseok chuckles at your actions, and your cheeks puff in a pout. He tuts, pressing soft kisses against your lips as he tries to mollify your pout. He succeeds very easily, a smile breaking onto your face at his tender touch.

Finally, he pulls away, a soft sigh leaving your lips. His lips press against your forehead as he holds you close. The two of you stand in that dark confession booth, the sound of the choir slowly fading. The people that had once been near you also move away, leaving the coast clear. Hoseok grabs your hand, checking the outside once again to make sure no one was around before he drags you out. Once you’re both out, he turns to you, a devilish smile on his face.

“How’s that for an unconventional tour guide?”

Hoseok is a voracious lover. He’s practically insatiable and hasto have you at least twice a day and in as many positions as he could bend you into, which is why on the fourth day, you find yourself being awoken with Hoseok softly pressing kisses to the back of your shoulder, his hard cock pressing into your ass cheek. Through the fog of sleep, you feel his hand flit across your stomach before pressing between your thighs, one finger pushing into your cunt. You were still wet enough from the remnant of his cum from last night, now only acting as lubrication for his fingers. However, rather than feeling the tingling pleasure you’re used to, sparks of pain shoot up your nerves. You wince, curling into yourself before letting out a groan, muscles protesting the movement.

“____? You okay?” Hoseok asks, his hand immediately pulling out of you. You hear him shuffle, and then he’s turning you over, looking down at you in concern.

“Mmm. Sorry Hobi, I’m just really sore from the past few days,” you whine, voice gravelly from sleep. Hoseok sighs, pressing another kiss to your shoulder. The action is far too intimate for someone you have only known about three days, and yet, you find yourself sinking into his touch. Hoseok wraps an arm around your waist, lips brushing up your shoulder before he presses a kiss just below your ear. You find yourself biting your lip, attempting to suppress the sigh that almost leaves your lips. Honestly, his embrace was far too comfortable and felt more like home than it should have.

“Have I tired out your pretty little pussy sweetheart?” Hoseok asks, voice deep in your ear. Your core involuntarily clenches, and you find yourself groaning in pain again.

“Hoseok,” you warn. He immediately chuckles in your ear, his laugh light and carefree. Your heart flutters at the twinkling sound, your face softening.

“Sorry, sorry. You’re just so irresistible,” Hoseok replies as he presses an apologetic kiss to your shoulder. He unwraps his arms from you before slipping out of bed. You try to contain the disappointment you feel from the sudden loss of his body heat. You really do, but the instant he’s out of your reach, feet padding into the bathroom, you miss him.

You flip yourself, ignoring the way your muscles scream in displeasure and shuffle onto Hoseok’s side. Your face buries into his pillow, nuzzling into the soft sheets as you breathe him in. The scent of citrus and pine washes over you, and you inhale deeply, wanting nothing more than to wrap yourself in his scent until it was all you can breathe. Fifteen minutes later, Hoseok exits the bathroom, only to be met with the view of you holding his pillow tightly, and, with it pressed so close to your face, he’s worried you’ll suffocate. However, when you inhale deeply, he lets out a little chuckle. You stiffen, knowing you’d been caught red handed, before you shrink into your sheets, wishing they would just swallow you up whole.

“You’re so cute,” Hoseok coos, pulling the sheet off of you. You whine in protest, clutching it tighter to you, your cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment.

“Don’t tease me,” you pout. Hoseok clicks his tongue, tugging the sheets harder until you were naked. You yelp, shooting up so you were sitting before glaring at him.

“Get up, and get dressed. We’re going out,” Hoseok says, pointing towards the bathroom.

“I’m tired!” you whine, almost petulantly as you fall back into the bed, rolling until you lie on your front, facing away from him. Hoseok clicks his tongue once again, and then you feel him swat your ass. Hard.

“Ouch! Hobi!” you hiss, turning your head and glowering at him.

“Don’t be a brat. Get up, and get dressed, or I’ll bend you over and spank you until your cute ass is red, which I’m sure you don’t want considering you’re already sore,” Hoseok says, quirking his eyebrow knowingly. You tut, grumbling under your breath before doing as you were told. Twenty minutes and a hot shower later, you finally exit the bathroom. Hoseok smiles at you, watching as you shuffle towards him, despite protesting muscles.

“Good girl,” Hoseok praises, kissing your forehead. You preen under his praise before Hoseok grabs your hand, dragging you out of the room.

“Where are we going?” you ask curiously, hoping he hasn’t got something too vigorous planned. You were far too tired, and you’d only been in Barcelona three full days, coming up to your fourth.

“I’ve got a surprise for you. Don’t worry; you’ll love it,” Hoseok says, nudging you into the car with a bright smile. Your eyes narrow into small slits, looking at him with apprehension before once again following his direction. Hoseok gets into the driver's seat, smiling brightly at you once again before he begins driving.

Twenty minutes later, when you’re out of the heart of Barcelona, Hoseok stops. You look out the window, face scrunching in perturbation. He’d stopped directly outside what looks to be an old abandoned warehouse. You turn to him in question, wondering what he’s up to. He cuts the engine, turning to you.

“After you,” Hoseok says, gesturing for you to leave his car. You swallow thickly, turning to the old, decrepit building before turning back to him.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Don’t you trust me?” he asks. It’s a simple question, but one that has you stopping. Do you trust him? He’s basically a stranger to you, a stranger in a foreign country. Do you trust him? He hasbrought you to an abandoned building. However, there are no warning bells ringing in your mind. You take a deep breath before turning to him.

“I do,” you reply. It’s a simple answer, but your face is stoic, not a single shred of doubt on your face. It’s foolish. You have too much faith and trust in a man you really only barely know, but you dotrust Hoseok.

“That’s my good girl. Now come on; I think you’ll love this,” Hoseok says, opening his car door and getting out.

You follow him, letting Hoseok walk around the car and up to you before he wraps his arm around your waist. He leads you into the building, pushing the door with ease. Once you’re inside, you’re pleasantly surprised. It’s not an abandoned building at all. There’s a small reception with a concierge and a large archway leading further into the building.

The man greets you both in Spanish before spouting off something you definitely cannot understand. Your face scrunches up as Hoseok replies in fluent Spanish. You’re completely astonished, before you remember that he visits Spain quite frequently. Of coursehe knows the language. You patiently wait as they speak in a back and forth and soon, Hoseok is reaching into his pocket and pulling out his wallet. You quickly put your hand out, reaching into your bag and pulling your own purse out.

“Hoseok, you paid for dinner yesterday. Let me grab this,” you quickly say. Hoseok shakes his head, already handing his sleek black card over to the man.

“Nope. This is my treat for you,” Hoseok replies, wrapping his arm around your waist again. You scowl slightly, placing your purse back into your bag. The man smiles at you both before ushering towards the archway behind him. Hoseok smiles and nods at the man, before leading you down the path.

“A treat for what? I haven’t done anything,” you say, peeking up at him curiously. Hoseok doesn’t reply, instead, only leading you further into the building. Slowly, the walls change from the modern white of the reception to dark, fading brick. You look around curiously, the harsh of the white light fading into a more soft, muted amber. Your eyes widen when you finally exit the tunnel, a large pool greeting you.

Exposed brick makes up the entirety of the interior, giving the room a dark and dreary feel. The gloominess, however, is juxtaposed and alleviated by the warmth radiated from hung lanterns and small boxes filled with small candles littering the floor. The movement of water from the large pools reflected on the ceiling only adding to its charm. It was romantically dark, the candles, lanterns, and pulsating of water warming up the darkened brick.

“I thought you deserved a relaxing spa day. Sorry for making you so sore and not thinking about giving your body rest,” Hoseok apologises. You turn to him, chewing on your lip. His face is completely serene, and he looks at you with a tender smile that has your heart gripping. His eyes are almost as dark as the room surrounding you and yet just as soft and comforting. The water’s reflection ripples over his face, breaking up his features.

You don’t know how long you stand staring at him, but Hoseok eventually breaks your gaze. He grabs you by your hand before leading you towards the edge of the pool. Your fingers twitch imperceptibly as you watch Hoseok slowly undress. His tan skin is only deeper under the low lighting of the room, and you’ve seen Hoseok naked multiple times, but the sight of his smooth caramel skin never fails to tighten your throat.

He shimmies out of his trousers and boxers until he’s left completely naked, and your throat goes dry. You had never truly gotten to admire Hoseok’s form; you were both far too busy ripping each other’s clothes apart in a heated manner, but now, in the tranquillity of the atmosphere and the dimly lit room, you have nothing stopping you. Immediately, you’re struck with what you’ve been missing. He truly was the most beautiful man you had ever had the pleasure of laying your eyes on.

Your eyes stay locked on his as he slowly approaches you. He stares at you through thick lashes, his hair falling into his eyes. Nimble fingers slowly undo the belt from around your waist before deft fingers work away at the buttons of your dress. When he undoes the final button, Hoseok slips the dress off of your shoulder. His touch is so incredibly tender that you’re afraid to move, instead, letting him unclasp your bra and throw it on the floor with your dress.

Large hands trace over the curves of your sides almost reverently until he reaches the waistband of your panties. This time, you aid him in divesting your final piece of clothing. It’s low, but you hear his breath hitch, eyes flicking over every inch of your figure. You both stand there, taking each other in for what feels like an eternity, and it could have been. For in this room, away from the bustle of Barcelona, and even further away from life, it feels like time does not exist: as if you and Hoseok are the only two people left in existence.

Hoseok is the first one to break away. He reaches out to you, interlocking his fingers between yours before gently tugging you. Slowly, he steps into the pool, not once breaking his gaze away from you. You follow him faithfully, letting him guide you into the water. The minute the water hits your muscles, you let out a shuddering exhale. It’s not cold like you were expecting, but, instead, it’s pleasantly tepid, and faintly, you think you can smell sea-salt.

Gradually, Hoseok lowers you into the pool, your eyes fluttering shut when the water encases your entire body. Your muscles relax under the weightless feeling the pool provides, allowing the water to slowly ebb away the soreness your body felt. Hoseok pulls you into his chest, his back resting against the wall of the pool. You let out another sigh, his warm, hard chest pressed against your back and his flaccid cock rests just at the top of your ass.

“How are you feeling?” Hoseok asks, his hands moving to rub your shoulders, fingertips firmly massaging the flesh as he tries to work out the ache in them. You let out another sigh, head lolling back to rest on his shoulder, your eyes shut in relaxation.

“Perfect,” comes your whispered answer. You can almost feel Hoseok’s smile, his lips lightly trailing across your shoulder before kissing your neck.

The two of you sit for however long, Hoseok’s hands slowly working their way across your body. You sink further and further into him with each of his movements, small moans of appreciation escaping your mouth as expert fingers dance across your skin. His hands trail down your sides and towards your thighs as he continues lavishing kisses upon any bit of skin his mouth can reach. His touch is reverential and delicate. Leisurely, his fingers knead the supple flesh of your thighs, alleviating the soreness in them before slowly working his way down towards your shins.

When Hoseok is finally done massaging the ache from your muscles, his arms wrap around your waist, holding you close. You snuggle further into him, body completely relaxed against him. Mindlessly, Hoseok’s hands begin moving; his fingers trail up your arm, goosebumps prickling against your skin at his light touch. You feel him trace lazy circles into your skin before taking your hand between his and bringing it up to his lips. He kisses the pad of each of your fingers before doing the same to the other hand.

The entire time, neither of you speak. You let Hoseok’s hands gradually trace over your skin. He’s incredibly thorough, making sure that every single inch of your flesh is lavished with attention. Each and every one of his ministrations has you sighing deeply, sinking further and further into his embrace until you’re nothing but jelly. His hand moves to lightly grip at your chin before he turns you to face him. You stare up at him through thick lashes, and then he’s leaning down.

The feel of his lips against your own has your knees weak, and you’re thankful you’re both already sitting because you’re sure if you were standing, you’d have buckled under his actions. He licks the seam of your mouth, your lips parting slowly and allowing his tongue to enter your orifice. Your tongues move against each other in a sensual dance, tasting each other and the salt of the water on your lips. His lips are firm against yours, and his tongue moves so sensuously it has your toes curling.

Hoseok pulls away eventually, a gentle sigh leaving your lips. He smiles softly, pressing tender kisses against your lips. Once, twice, and then three times before completely pulling away. He manoeuvres you so that you’re slightly further down, head resting against his chest so he can lean his chin on your head, his thighs caging in your body. His arms once again wrap around your waist before he presses a kiss to your temple. You both sit in the pool of water, unmoving as you lie in each other’s embrace.

You hear nothing but the gentle sound of the water’s waves, Hoseok’s breathing, and his heartbeat. Your eyes flutter shut. It’s completely calm; quiet and serene. It’s then and there, in the harmonious tranquillity of the room, that you completely fall into him.

On the fifth day, the sun is incredibly bright. So bright, in fact, that it radiates with the vengeance of hell fire. That, however, doesn’t stop Hoseok from dragging you outside. Sweat coats your skin, staining your clothes, and you briefly wonder just how Hoseok is coping with the heat. You eye him warily; his white linen shirt clings to his back, drenched in sweat, and yet, he looks completely unperturbed. He smiles brightly, his grin rivalling the intense sun rays.

“Where are we going? It’s so hot!” you complain, panting from the heat.

“Some place to cool down,” Hoseok replies cryptically. That’s the only response he gives you before he’s once again pulling you through the crowded streets of Barcelona. You let out a little sigh, shifting uncomfortably as your clothes cling to you. The bustle of people around only serves to increase both the temperature and humidity.

“Why couldn’t we have just driven?” you whine, almost stomping your foot petulantly. The heat was slowly turning your brain to mush, and you were sure you’d lose all reasoning soon.

“Too crowded. We’d never get parking. Now stop complaining, we’re almost there. I promise you won’t be hot for long,” comes Hoseok’s voice. You purse your lips in a thin line. Whatever he had planned better be worth it, because you are incredibly close to drowning him in your sweat as punishment for dragging you out in the middle of a heat wave.

You have no idea how long Hoseok drags you through the god forsaken cobbled streets: the white of the houses paired with the beige paving only serving to reflect heat directly onto you. Moments later, when you’re close to calling it quits and heading back to Hoseok’s wonderfully air conditioned hotel room, Hoseok finally stops. He holds out his hands on either side, a pleased grin on his face. The only thing missing is a small ‘tada’. You quirk your eyebrow. He’s stood in front of a black metal gate, the tips glittering gold in the sunlight, and beyond the fencing, you can make out large trees.

“A park?” You’re not impressed.

“Oh come on! It’ll be great,” Hoseok says, grabbing your hand and pulling you beyond the gates.

“Hobi! It’s too hot-” you begin complaining, only to stop short once you’re in the park.

It’s almost as if you’ve walked into a different world. The vivid green of the tree canopy offers the ground an ample amount of shade, cooling down the entire park. The air inside is somehow much cooler than the main streets of Barcelona, and your body involuntarily shivers when a light breeze runs across your sweat-soaked figure. Tree branches sway in the wind, and the rustling of leaves along with bird song vibrate through your eardrums.

“Well? What do you think? It’s cooler here right?” Hoseok says, eyes shining with amusement.

“It would be cooler in your hotel room,” you point out, a small scowl on your face. Hoseok laughs at your slightly sullen tone; he knows you’re more mad at him being right than anything.

“Yes, well, considering you’re leaving in a couple days, I didn’t think you’d want to stay in,” Hoseok points out. His tone is completely casual, but you can’t help the way your stomach drops. You had completely forgotten you were on holiday and would have to part with him soon. Hoseok catches your sombre tone and immediately grabs your hand. You turn to him in surprise, eyes widening at the large grin on his face.

“Come on! Let’s not waste the day,” Hoseok says before he tugs you along.

The two of you walk hand in hand down the winding gravel path of the park. It’s relatively quiet. Hoseok points out that most people would have gone to the beach to cool down. You relish in the calm moments with Hoseok, his hand nestled comfortably in yours as you wander along the shaded trail, trees encompassing you on either side. A while later, you hear the sound of flowing water, and Hoseok pulls you into a clearing. You stop short and let out a quiet gasp.

Amidst the large park sits a small oasis, completely deserted of anyone. Crystal clear water floods from moss encrusted rocks, cascading into the lake at the bottom of the waterfall. The sound of rushing water is almost deafening, drowning out the singing birds. Across the lake winds a white makeshift bridge made up entirely of boulders, disappearing behind the gushing water. It’s completely idyllic.

Hoseok grips your hand tighter, and he drags you towards the bridge before pulling you onto it. You both carefully hop along the rocks, making sure not to slip. When you get to the middle, just behind the waterfall, Hoseok stops. Somehow, the water is even louder now, echoing in your eardrums. With wide eyes, you take in the sights. It’s truly beautiful. Vines rooted in the cracks of the cliffside drip with dew while small vibrantly coloured flowers grow around the area; the kaleidoscope of colours contrasts with the grey rocks and cerulean water.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Hoseok asks, eyes soft as he takes in your awe-struck expression. You have no words and, instead, just find yourself nodding.

Hoseok tugs you gently, carefully pulling you onto a large slab of stone. He quickly shrugs off his jacket, laying it on the damp ground before gesturing for you to take a seat. Once you’re seated, Hoseok joins you. His shoulders brush against your own, knees drawn up to your chests and feet almost touching. You take in a deep breath, the strong scent of earthen musk and flowing water filling your senses. The both of you sit quietly, Hoseok letting you attempt to breathe everything in.

“I think I’ll miss things like this when I’m back in Seoul,” you finally say. Your voice is quiet, drowned out by the rushing of water, but Hoseok hears you clearly.

“Like what?”

“Like this: sitting, doing nothing - just watching nature. Life is hectic in Seoul; you should know that better than anyone. I’m a personal assistant to the CEO of a law firm. It’s a demanding job, and I practically live for my boss. I’ll miss doing things for myself: walking through a park, going to the spa, dancing on the streets. I’ll miss-” you don’t finish your sentence. The word ‘you’ is at the tip of your tongue, but you can’t bring yourself to say it. Your stomach drops as you realise that you will have to separate from Hoseok, and your heart aches when you realise you may never see him again. This is unchartered territory - something you hadn’t planned when you’d spontaneously booked your flight. Hoseok goes quiet, and the once easy atmosphere turns maudlin.

“Hey! Come on; let’s take a picture. This is the ideal place, yes?” Hoseok asks, his voice suddenly loud and cheery. Your eyes soften at his attempt at cheering you up as he tries his best to alleviate the tense mood. He holds his hand out for your phone, and you quickly shift, reaching into your pocket before handing it to him.

Hoseok shuffles away from you, putting distance between your bodies as he tries to capture the perfect angle. The way his head is tilted, tongue poking out as he concentrates on getting the best shot, has you instantly perking up. You crack a large smile, practically beaming at him. Hoseok yells in glee, his loud voice competing with the deafening waterfall. He takes a few pictures before shuffling back closer to you.

“Now, one of us!” Hoseok calls, pressing his shoulder tightly against yours before wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you closer against him. Just as he takes the picture, he moves, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Your eyes widen at his action, the camera clicking that exact moment.

“Hoseok! That’s a bad picture!” you yell in indignation. Hoseok’s eyebrows knit together before he shakes his head.

“It’s great! You look so cute,” Hoseok coos, taking in your shocked expression. The camera had captured your reaction to his kiss just in time.

“Delete it!” you whine, Hoseok shaking his head.

“No!”

“Well, it’s my phone. I’ll just delete it myself,” you reply, poking your tongue out before crossing your arms.

“Don’t! Promise me you won’t delete it,” Hoseok says, tone completely serious. You look at him curiously. He raises his brow, awaiting your answer. When he doesn’t budge, you finally sigh, giving in.

“Okay! Fine, I won’t delete it,” you relent. Hoseok beams at you, his lips pulling into their trademark heart shape.

“Good! Now you’ll remember me forever,” Hoseok says. Once again, his tone is completely casual, but the meaning isn’t lost on you. Your heart plummets in your chest as your inevitable separation rears its ugly head. There’s so much you want to say to him. I want to stay with you. I’ll miss you. I don’t want to leave you. I think I love you. However, your throat is sealed shut, and your tongue is unable to form the words. There is one thing you’re completely certain of though. You didn’t need a photograph to remember Hoseok.

He was etched in the back of your mind and carved into your heart forever. You were sure that whenever you thought of Barcelona, you’d remember him. You’d remember the way his skin glowed under the sunlight as if he were the sun himself and the way his body felt pressed against yours in the cool night. You’d remember the way his lips pull into the shape of a heart whenever he smiled and the carefree inclination in his laugh. You’d remember the way he’d hold you whenever he wanted to dance as he sings, voice low in your ear. You’d remember how his hand fit within yours as he dragged you through the streets and the way he’d intimately kiss your shoulder. You’d remember Hoseok. Forever.

“Sing for me,” you demand softly, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could even ponder them. You don’t regret them.

“Now? You won’t be able to hear me,” Hoseok says, looking at the waterfall pointedly.

“I’ll hear you. Please, Hoseok, sing for me,” you repeat, voice slightly louder this time. You desperately needed to hear his voice. Hoseok pauses for a minute before relenting.

“What do you want me to sing?” he asks, looking at you expectantly.

“Anything,” comes your simple answer. Hoseok bites his tongue before nodding. He looks around, taking in the vibrant hues of the blue lake and the white foaming waterfall before his gaze falls on you.

“Inside my blue dream, I want to contain you,” Hoseok begins. His voice is quiet but the hauntingly dulcet tones resonate loudly in your ear. Your stomach plummets at his words, and you take in a deep, shuddering breath as you gaze at him softly. You want to remember this.

“Even if you say no, inside my eyes,” he continues. Intense eyes gaze at you, coffee orbs swimming with emotions that you cannot comprehend. You don’t even try to. Instead, the entire world fades away. The once deafening sound of water ebbing away to nothingness in the back of your mind as you focus on Hoseok’s mellifluous voice.

“Inside my blue dream, I want to hold you,” Hoseok sings, voice rumbling. His words are deep and meaningful, completely juxtaposed by the melancholic melody belying his voice. Goosebumps prickle at your skin, and your chest crumples from all the emotion bubbling up inside of you.

“Even if you say we can’t, inside my embrace,” Hoseok breathes out as he finishes, his voice fading into nothingness and the sound of the waterfall growing louder. An agonising ache grips your heart when his voice comes to a close. Without thinking, you lean over and draw his lips between yours, pouring in every bit of emotion you feel but can’t bring yourself to express.

Your kiss is slow and sensual, lips interlocked with each other. Hoseok’s hand moves to cup your cheek, drawing you in closer. Neither of you quicken the pace, more than content for your tongues to leisurely curve around each other. When the need for oxygen burns deep within your lungs, you both pull away. You flick out your tongue, licking your lips and tasting him on them before you lean your forehead against his. Deeply, you stare into his eyes, wanting nothing more than to preserve this piece of blue paradise between you forever.

On the last day you have in Barcelona, you find yourself blindfolded with Hoseok leading you somewhere. From the crashing of waves and the slight taste of salt in the air, you hazard a guess that you are somewhere on the beach. Suddenly, Hoseok stops before you feel him move behind you. His hands press into your waist, and then he’s gently pushing you, making sure you walk with careful steps. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion moments later, head snapping side to side as you hear the rumbling of an engine.

“Hoseok?” you ask, curious as to where you were. The wind rushes through your hair, sending the locks flying through the sea breeze. It almost felt as if you were on a boat.

“Just ten minutes sweetheart,” Hoseok says, his voice low as he brushes his lips against your temple. You nod, patiently waiting for him to give you the all clear and take off the blindfold. A while later, you assume ten minutes, you hear the engine cut off, leaving you in the quiet silence of the sea.

“Okay, now,” Hoseok says, and you tug of the blindfold. When you can finally see clearly, your breath hitches. You were correct; you hadbeen on a boat. Now, you were in the middle of the sea on a large white yacht that rocked gently on the waves. Hoseok stands just in front of you, a hesitant smile on his face. Beside him, is a table laid out with two plates and what you assume is dinner.

“I wanted to treat you to something special for your final day in Barcelona,” Hoseok breathes out, his voice carrying over the mellow sea breeze. You swallow thickly. His words cause your heart to clench, the ache in your chest returning. ‘Final’. It’s a simple word, and yet it leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

Hoseok holds out his hand, and you place your palm in his, allowing him to lead you to your seat. Your eyes follow him, watching as he takes a seat opposite you. He pours you a glass of white wine before smiling gently at you. Your eyes flick to your food, a mix of seafood laid beautifully on your plate. It’s presented elegantly and usually would have your mouth watering, but right now you simply have no appetite.

Despite this, you tuck into your food, and vaguely you can recognise that it tastes delicious. Hoseok idly chatters in the background, you, however, can’t focus on anything but the sight of him. The sun is low on the horizon, shades of copper and gold lighting up the sky. Hoseok’s form is illuminated by the glow of the sun, encasing him in an amber halo. The wind lightly combs through his dark hair, white sails ruffling behind him.

When he finishes his meal, he takes a sip of his wine before smiling at you. Your throat closes. Once again, you’re consumed with all the things you feel for him: feelings you shouldn’t have developed within such a short amount of time, yet you had, because Hoseok is perfect and so incredibly beautiful that it was entirely impossible to not fall in love with him. Your mouth is completely dry, as if you’ve swallowed cotton.

So, instead of saying anything, you get up and take his hand between yours. Hoseok blinks at you in surprise, before shuffling out of his seat. He lets you drag him towards the sofa and towards the bow of the boat before you push him gently. Hoseok falls onto the sofa. You climb on top of him, straddling his hips, your dress bunching up around your thighs as Hoseok’s hands naturally fall to your waist. He looks up at you through thick lashes, skin luminous in the warmth of the sun. He’s radiant.

Your neck bends down, Hoseok’s straining as you softly brush your lips against each other. He tastes intoxicating; the aftertaste of the tart wine is undercut by his natural sweetness. Hoseok deepens your kiss, pulling you in closer towards him, tongues savouring each other. Your hands curl into his hair, gripping his soft wavy locks tightly; his own hands wander across your back till they fist in your dress.

The deeper Hoseok kisses you, the more desperate you both become. Hoseok pulls away, breaking your kiss before trailing his lips across your neck as he suckles bruises into your throat. You cry out, his hands moving up your back to unzip your dress. Warm hands splay across your naked back, your own hands fervently moving to unbutton his shirt. Impatiently, you push it off of his shoulders before standing up and shimmying out of your dress. Hoseok follows your movement, both of you eagerly stripping until you were naked.

Hoseok lets out a little groan of appreciation. Nimble fingers caress the side of your breast before they trail along your side. His touch is featherlight and tickles your skin. Eventually, his hand reaches your waist, and gripping you just above your hip, he pulls you into him. Ever so gently, he spins you over before laying you down on the sofa. Climbing on top of you, he traces kisses down your collarbones and towards your sternum. Little moans of appreciation escape your lips when he presses his mouth against the skin between your breasts, feathering kisses along your flesh. Instinctively, your hands dive into Hoseok’s hair, and you admire how soft and silken it feels. Hoseok litters soft kisses in a straight line down your belly, tongue flicking out and swirling into your navel. When he kisses the skin just above your clit, you let out a wanton keen.

“Please, I want you in me,” you mumble, wanting to skip the foreplay. You were practically leaking down your thighs, pussy clenching in a desperate need to feel his cock. Hoseok shakes his head, long hair tickling your skin.

“I want to eat you. I need to taste you before…” Hoseok mutters, not finishing his sentence. ‘Before you leave’. Those are the words left unsaid. You ignore the sinking feeling in your chest, and, instead, buck your hips into him.

“Please,” you whimper. Hoseok delicately presses his lips against your clit, your breath hitching as your pussy gushes with a wave of wetness. His tongue laves between your slit, licking a line from your molten core all the way to your throbbing clit. A pleasurable sigh leaves your lips while your fingers tighten in his hair.

Hoseok’s hands skim up your thighs and towards your hips before soft pads press into your hip bones, pulling you closer to his face. His nose lightly teases your clit and only serves to add to your lust induced pleasure. He swirls his tongue through your pussy and collects every bit of arousal he can onto his tongue. You’re dripping all over him, his lips and chin wet with a sheen of your slick. Hoseok keeps his eyes trained onto you, tongue moving expertly through your folds. It’s completely erotic - the way his coffee irises glow honey-gold in the sun as he eats you out.

His mouth trails slightly lower before he’s plunging his tongue into you. The way his tongue pierces your cunt has you releasing a shuddering breath. Your eyes flutter shut, and your spine contorts, forcing your back to arch off the sofa. Red hot ecstasy scorches your skin, chest flushing in heat. Your hand leaves Hoseok’s hair, instead, gripping onto the armrests, nails clawing into the linen. Messily, he slurps at your cunt, soft pink lips gently suckling around your soaked hole.

“Hoseok,” you mewl, eyes screwing shut and hips gyrating against his face.

“I love the way you taste. I love the way you drip for me. Your pussy is always so wet and ready for me. You taste so sweet, I can never get enough,” Hoseok says, his words vibrating across the nerves of your cunt. The way your pussy contracts in pleasure is completely contrasted by the ache you feel in your chest. Everything he says has a deeper undercurrent of meaning that you don’t want to think about right now, but you can’t help thinking about it. This could be the last time you feel Hoseok between your thighs -the last time he tastes you.

“Close,” you mewl, thighs beginning to quiver around his cheeks. Immediately, Hoseok pulls away, and you cry out. Desperately, your body begins writhing as you whine, trying to get him back between your legs.

“Hoseok,” you beg, voice high pitched with want. Hoseok presses a kiss to your lips, the taste of you heavy on his tongue.

“Patience, sweetheart. I want you to cum on my cock where I can watch you fall apart,” Hoseok says, lips brushing your temple. Your heart flutters at his words as you draw him in for another kiss. You flip yourselves over, gently lowering Hoseok onto the sofa before you drop to your knees.

“Wait no, I want to feel you,” Hoseok begins protesting, but you shush him. He lets out a quiet hiss, throwing his head back when you kiss his cockhead.

“I want you in my mouth first,” you reply, words mirroring his. Hoseok groans before nodding, hands gathering up your hair. Your tongue flicks out, licking up the underside of his dick, all the way from the base to his head before swirling around his slit. Hoseok sinks further into the sofa, thighs splaying out as he gives you more room. You shuffle closer and wrap your hand around his cock, pumping as you lightly suckle his tip.

The taste of him is heavy in your mouth, his cockhead leaking with precum and coating your tongue. You relish in the taste, and briefly, you can’t help but wonder if you are ruined for anyone else. You don’t think you could ever forget the way he tastes. More importantly, you are completely addicted to him. No one could or would taste as good as him. Your mouth sinks further onto him, eyes trained on the way his teeth clench, jaw flinching. You squeeze your hand around his length before gently sucking as your cheeks hollow.

“Fuck… You’re so good. I’ll miss your mouth,” Hoseok pants, hands tightening around your hair. ‘I’ll miss you’; you can’t help it when those words flash in your mind. You will. You’ll miss Hoseok more than you ever thought you could miss someone. When you take him further into your mouth, his tip hitting your throat, Hoseok lets out a little hiss.

You begin bobbing your head on top of him. Your eyes stay focused on the total pleasure etched on his face, his jaw twitching every now and then as he tries his hardest not to lose control. Tenuously, your hand unwraps from his cock, and you relish in the way he bucks into your mouth, protesting the loss of your hand. Instead, your hand trails down to cup his balls, rolling them in the palm of your hand. Hoseok sucks in a breath. Suddenly, he’s pulling you off of him.

“I need you. I need you right now,” Hoseok groans. His voice is needy and full of desire. You feel your stomach churn, nodding as you stand up and in between his thighs. Hoseok pulls you into him by the hips, pressing his head against your stomach before kissing just under your ribcage, his hair tickling your skin.

Small palms slowly maneuver you until you’re straddling him once again, his cock brushing against your thigh and painting the flesh in his precum. You shift over him until his cock is pressing against your entrance, threatening to enter you. Then, you circle your hips over him once, coating him in your arousal until his cock is as sticky as your pussy. Hoseok’s hands shoot to hold your hips before he slowly lowers you onto him. Dexterous fingers flex against your hip bones, his face buried into your chest as he attempts to stifle a sigh. Inch by inch, he sinks into you, gradually splitting your walls open on his cock.

A shaky breath leaves your lips, and halfway into your descent on his length, you let out a soft whine until he’s finally buried into you. He stills your hips, holding you there as he inhales sharply. You both lay motionless, just feeling each other, taking in as much of the other as you can. He feels deeper in you than he ever has. It's probably just your mind playing tricks on you, but somehow, you feel even more connected to him. When you grow impatient, your flex your thighs and pick yourself up off of him before lowering back down. Your head lolls back in pleasure, every ridge and vein of his dick brushing against your walls.

Hoseok begins moving you on top of him, letting you ride him in a slow, erotic pace. Hands skim up your spine, pressing a kiss above your breast, just to the side of your heart. His touches feel different this time, somehow more intimate, more reverent, as they wander over your body. There’s not a single inch of skin that he doesn’t feel, pleasure tingling up your spine at his attentive actions. Suddenly, he wraps his arms around you tightly before pulling you flush into him. Then, his hand moves to cup your cheek, drawing you into his lips. Your mouths desperately move against each other, the kiss filled with raw emotion that neither of you want to reveal.

When you both break away, Hoseok sucks your swollen lips between his own, nibbling on the tender flesh. You gasp into his mouth, hands moving to wrap around his shoulder. Hips begin surging against each other harder, each motion filled with an urgent need for the other. A sudden thrust from Hoseok has him hitting particularly deep, and your pussy involuntarily flexes. You keen over him, clawing at his back.

With every one of his movements, you climb higher and higher towards the precipice of your orgasm. Lips smash into each other fervently, Hoseok’s hands wandering all across your body, mapping out each and every one of your curves. Your own hands clutch Hoseok’s back desperately, both your torsos pressed against each other so tightly you are practically melding into each other. You bury your face into his shoulder, biting into his flesh as you teeter on the edge of your climax.

“Let me see your face. I want to see you when you cum,” Hoseok says, his tone almost pleading. You relent, unable to deny him anything. Lifting your head, your hands move to his shoulders, nails pressing into his skin. Your eyes stay focused on one another, hips writhing desperately against the other’s. With laboured breaths, you rut each other, eyes unable to tear away from the other’s gaze. Hoseok suddenly moves his head, placing one final kiss on your lips before pressing your foreheads together.

“Cum- want to feel you,” Hoseok whispers, his lips skimming yours with every one of his words. The words are choked, and you can feel his cock pulsate. Immediately you know he’s close. Harder, you undulate your hips, pushing him deeper into you, as deep as he could go. When your clit brushes against his pelvis you finally cum. Your muscles seize on top of him, nails digging further into his skin. With trembling arms, you cling tighter to him, whimpering out his name over and over, as if it were a prayer on your lips while your orgasm washes over you in hot flashes.

Hoseok groans, your walls undoubtedly clamping tighter around him. He thrusts once, hands pulling your hips down onto his as he attempts to bury as deep into you as was physically possible. Then, with a choked groan, he cums, your name escaping his lips. You desperately want to close your eyes, lids heavy with the strength of your climax, but you force them to stay open, even when they begin tearing up from the intensity of your orgasm.

You don’t want to miss anything. Your eyes scrutinise every single detail you can: the way his face contorts in pleasure, the way his hair clings to his forehead, and the way his breath tastes against your lips. You commit every piece of him to memory: his dark honeyed eyes scrunched in ecstasy, the elegant slant of his nose and his high cheekbones, his gentle cheeks, and the sharp curve of his jaw. You don’t want to forget a single thing.

The sun sets lower and lower as you cling to each other. You’re both swimming in the afterglow of your orgasms, limbs spasming erratically. Heavy breathing circulates the air as you pant. Hoseok’s hands are splayed across your back, keeping your sweat-soaked bodies clinging to each other. When you both finally manage to come down from your post-orgasmic highs, the euphoric haze gradually fading, the sky is painted purple and pink. Your throat closes when you realise the sun has completely disappeared below the horizon. It only serves to add a tone of finality to everything.

When the weight of your emotions begins to physically crush your chest, you finally close your eyes and let the tears fall. This time, they’re not from pleasure.

Hours later, in the very early morning, you lay in bed watching Hoseok. The sun hasn’t even begun to rise, and your only light source is the waning gibbous moon shining through the curtains. You know you should probably get out of bed; you have a flight to catch, yet you can’t find it in yourself to tear your gaze away from him. You still have a little while before you have to leave, your suitcase already packed and ready. So, you take one final time to commit every last detail of Hoseok to your memory.

His skin glows under the low lighting, the moon illuminating him. Your chest floods with the overwhelming amount of emotion you feel for him. You’ve thought it multiple times during your trip, but he truly is the most stunning man you have ever laid your eyes on. He is so tremendously beautiful, in fact, that you were sure the god of beauty had personally blessed him.

Hesitantly, you reach your hand out, tracing his face as gently as you can. You don’t want to wake him just yet. Your finger trails along his forehead and eyebrows before drawing down the elegant slope of his nose. Unable to suppress the grin that breaks out on your face, you bite your lip, his nose twitching under your ministrations. Your fingers continue tracing his features, along his soft lips, and finally down the curvature of his defined jaw. When you’re done, you let out a deep sigh, shifting closer on his chest as you continue watching him.

Subconsciously, Hoseok’s arm around your back tightens, pulling you further into him. Nervously, you chew your lip, resting your head back on his chest as you listen to the steady beating of his heart. It’s loud in your ear, the rhythmic sound almost lulling you back to sleep. Your own heart aches, knowing that in mere hours he’d be far away from you, his heartbeat further than you could reach.

You love Hoseok. You are sure of this. You don’t know exactly when you had fallen for him, but somewhere between the intimate touches and the thrill of Barcelona, you had lost your heart on him. It’s foolish really, to have fallen for someone in such a short amount of time - someone you knew you were bound to leave. However, you hadn’t planned it. It had been completely spontaneous and involuntarily. Now, here you are, pining for a man that you will probably never see again.

A part of you wants to wake him up and ask him if he loved you the way you love him, if he was willing to be with you and only you. You have no idea what he feels for you or if you are just another notch on his bedpost. What if he replaces you the moment you were gone? The thought of you leaving Barcelona and Hoseok falling for someone else leaves a sour taste in your mouth. You are his. You wholeheartedly belong to him. Of this, you are sure. You could never love any man the way you love Hoseok, and your feelings would never burn for anyone the way they do for him, yet, a part of you wonders whether it was just the Barcelona air - the atmosphere was so inherently romantic that it would have been impossible not to fall for someone, right? You try to convince yourself of this, but when the ache in your chest deepens, you know you’ve failed.

The first light of day breaks over the horizon, the sky painted in different hues of the dawn. With a small sigh, you lift yourself off of Hoseok’s chest before leaning up and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. You don’t miss the way your heart palpitates, pace quickening when his eyes flutter open and sleepy pools of chocolate meet your eyes. You’ll miss waking up to him.

“It’s almost time for me to leave,” you whisper. A part of you prays for him to say something, anything- for him to ask you to stay; for him to tell you he loves you. He doesn’t. Instead, he just nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead and holding you tighter. You let out a disappointed sigh before picking yourself up off of him and getting out of bed.

You pad into the bathroom before you begin your morning routine. Moments later, Hoseok joins you, dressed in nothing but his boxers. From the corners of your eye, you watch him. He presses a lazy kiss to your shoulder before reaching for his toothbrush and brushing his teeth next to you. Your heart grows heavy in your chest at the entirely domestic scene. You’ll miss early morning moments like these.

An hour later, you’re both ready. You quickly do a final sweep of the room, ensuring you haven’t left anything behind before following Hoseok out of the hotel room. You bite your lip and blink away the tears when you’re finally out. There are so many memories trapped behind the door: tender kisses and gentle touches between whispered words of sweet nothings. When Hoseok shuts the door, obstructing your view of the room, you let out a heavy exhale, knowing that you’d probably never see it again. Hoseok takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together before rolling your suitcase.

The entire car journey, your hands stay held together, Hoseok expertly steering with a single hand. It’s dangerous - he probably shouldhave both hands on the wheel, yet neither of you really want to let go. Your eyes are downcast, focused on your joint hands, not wanting to look at the happy scenes of Barcelona. It’s a complete one-eighty flip from when you first arrived a whole week ago. Then, you had wanted nothing more than to lose yourself in the happy, almost exhilarating ambience of Barcelona. However, now that you were leaving, you didn’t want to take in the happy scenes or vibrant colours - not when you’re heart was aching.

The journey is long, minutes only lengthened by the sombre air, thick with emotion and unsaid words. You’re almost suffocated by how stifling the tension is and you cling onto Hoseok’s hand as if it were your last lifeline. When you finally arrive at the airport, you stare at it with blank eyes, not really wanting to leave. Except, you have to. Your life is in Seoul, not Barcelona. You have a job there, family, friends. You can’t abandon them all, even if you wanted to, even if your entire being is screaming, yearning for you to stay with Hoseok. You cannot, so, with a steely expression, you open Hoseok’s car door and walk out.

He follows you into the terminal, clinging to you almost like a lost puppy. Hoseok stays with you through the entire process, from when you check in your baggage right until the final moment before you have to pass security, lest you miss your flight. The entire time, his hand never leaves yours, gripping it tighter when the gates toward security near. Neither of you want to let go, though neither of you say anything to make the other stay. You shift nervously from one foot to the other, hiking your handbag further up your shoulder as you turn to Hoseok.

His eyes are intense. He looks at you, eyes laden with emotion. You’re sure your own eyes reflect the same. Once again, there’s so much at the tip of your tongue. I love you. I want you. I want to stay with you. Yet, none of them tumble out, your tongue tied. Hoseok lets go of your hand, your fingers flexing as they immediately miss his touch. Instead, Hoseok moves his both palms to cup your cheeks, pulling you in for a short, sweet kiss.

“I don’t think Barcelona will ever be the same without you,” Hoseok sighs against your lips, pulling away and resting his forehead against yours. Your heart grips at his words. He doesn’t think Barcelona will feel the same without you. Youdon’t think your life will feel the same without Hoseok. Somewhere in that short week, he had become a constant in your life, one you would sorely miss when he was no longer in it.

“I didn’t know what would happen when I booked that flight spontaneously. I didn’t expect meeting you, but you, Jung Hoseok, have been my favourite part of Barcelona,” you choke out earnestly, nothing but honesty in your voice. Hoseok’s eyes soften, and you feel the tears well up in your eyes. Once again, Hoseok pulls you in for a kiss. This time, it’s long and deep.

Automatically, your hands fist into the collar of his button down, pulling him closer to you. You pour out everything you feel into it, tongues laving against each other as you taste one another one final time. Moments later, Hoseok pulls away, his gaze flicking to the electronic board of flight timings.

“You should go,” Hoseok mumbles, his throat tightening, “or you may miss your flight,” he finishes. You can’t help the way your stomach churns or the way your chest caves in at his words, crushed under the weight of your heartache. Standing on your tiptoes, you lean over and press one final kiss onto the corner of his lips.

“Goodbye, Hoseok.”

“Goodbye, sweetheart,” Hoseok replies. You bite your lip, the pet name almost causes the tears in your eyes to fall. However, you stay strong, not wanting him to see you cry. Undoubtedly, however, you would miss the way he called you that.

Finally, you grip the strap of your handbag before turning and walking away from him. Your footsteps thunder, echoing in your eardrums as with each step the distance between you grows. The further you move away from him, the heavier your heart grows. The ending is more bitter than sweet, and as you’re passing the security gate, tears blur your vision. You turn back one final time, catching his eye. His gaze never leaves yours. He stands in the middle of the busy airport, hands in his pockets as he watches you. You smile ruefully and wave at him before passing through. When you finally get through security, the tears fall, little sobs escaping your mouth.

Hoseok watches you until the moment you disappear from his line of sight and out of his life. Then, he continues watching, waiting for you to come running back out and into his life, almost like the movies. A minute passes, then five, then ten. Finally, when almost fifteen minutes pass, he realises that you’re not coming back -that life isn’t a movie. With a stinging heart, he wipes at the tears pooling in his eyes before choking back a sob. When he turns away, walking away from security and out of the airport, his heart finally breaks.

You are gone.

Months later, you find yourself going through the motions of your life. Everything feels listless and monotonous. Your boss has become a lot less demanding, hiring a second personal assistant so that you don’t burn out. You are grateful, but it only means that you spend longer reminiscing about your short holiday - spend longer missing Hoseok. You miss him every day -miss him when you wake up without him next to you, miss his loud, boisterous laughter, miss the feel of his arms around you.

Today is one of your days off. Usually, you’d have your job to keep your mind occupied. Today, however, you’re feeling even more morose than usual. You sit in the quiet of your apartment, staring at the photo of you and Hoseok from that day in the park. If you try hard enough, you can still feel the ghost of his lips against your skin, and if you close your eyes, you can hear his hauntingly beautiful voice as he sings.

You stay seated on your sofa, unmoving, daydreaming about Hoseok and how beautiful he looked with the sun setting behind him. You would never forget his face. More importantly, you couldnever forget his face. You had carved him deep into your mind and held him even closer to your heart. You don’t know how long you spend lost in your reverie, but suddenly, you’re drawn out by a knock on your apartment door. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. You aren't expecting any guests, so you have no idea who it could be. You throw your phone down onto the sofa before padding over to the door, unlocking it. However, nothing could have prepared you for what, or who, is on the other side.

“Oh finally! Do you have any idea how many flats I’ve visited in the last week looking for you?” Hoseok admonishes. You can’t answer, instead, staring wide-eyed at him. You blink once, twice, and then three times before rubbing your eyes. Is he real or are you just imagining him? The sight of your shocked face has Hoseok finally calming down. He shuffles nervously as it finally dawns on him that he had finally found you.

“Hi,” he says shyly. It’s completely different from his initially loud words. Now, his eyes are full of hesitation.

“H-Hoseok? What are you doing here? Why are you here? How did you find me?” you stammer, completely in awe. Hope flutters in your chest. Had he missed you the way you missed him? Surely, that is the reason he’s here in front of you.

“Yeah… hi. Sorry, this is probably rude, and I know you weren’t expecting me to just show up but...” Hoseok begins, voice trailing off before he runs a hand through his hair. “I missed you. I miss you. I tried to forget you, I really did, but I just couldn’t. Barcelona isn’t the same without you. My life isn’t the same without you. I think… no I know I love you. I love you. When I came back to Seoul, you were the first person I looked for. It took me a while to locate you, but I finally found you!” Hoseok begins rambling, the words blurting out his mouth. You can’t really comprehend them, still stuck on the fact that he’s here right in front of you.

“I found you, and I was just… I was wondering if we could continue where we left off. I want you. I need you. So much. Please say something, you’re just staring at me, and I’m running out of words,” Hoseok finishes. His fingers fiddle nervously, and he shuffles from foot to foot. His words finally resonate in your head, your brain processing the meaning behind them. You don’t know what to say. This is almost like a dream come true. Hoseok is standing right in front of you like you had been wishing for the past months. However, you can’t help the hesitation that grips your heart.

“Hoseok… I love you too, but this isn’t Barcelona. We’re not on holiday. We have jobs and lives. I love you, but what if… what if our love was based on us being on holiday? We can’t just wander around Seoul fucking. There are so many things that could go wrong. What if we don’t have time for each other? You said it yourself: you travel the world every few months. How are we supposed to cope with not being able to see each other? What if, now that we’re away from Barcelona, the romance between us dies?” you breathe out, laying your worries out for him. Hoseok, however, barely hears the words past ‘I love you’. He lets out a large grin, and your heart quickens when his heart-shaped smile radiates all the warmth you had missed.

“You’re worried about the wrong things. I love you. You love me. That’s all that matters. Besides, what we feel is real. I know it. My feelings for you are as real as it gets. It’s been months, and I can’t stop thinking about you - can’t stop missing you -can’t stop loving you. We’ll figure things out slowly.  Plus, romance isn’t a city. It’s the love we feel for each other. Romance is me and you,” Hoseok replies. His tone is completely steady and his words confident. There is not a single shred of doubt in his tone. A smile breaks out onto your own lips, so wide that it almost matches his.

Then with a kiss, you pull him into your apartment.

a/n: look!!! this one isn’t as sad as the other ones!!!! even though i seriously thought about ending this with them not getting together kenflke,,,, but please let me know what you thought! and if no one fell in love with suncity hobi then you’re all fake and don’t deserve rights

Mixtape Series | Masterlist

[mcfanely]

Golem AU

For @razzle-zazzle‘s Golem AU, because I can’t get enough of it

Gaia Brookstone could do many things, She was a dancer first and foremost, something that had caught the eye of her now husband, Lou; she was creative, imaginative, and gifted with incredible powers passed down through her family lineage. The Earth seemed to bend to her guidance, shift and form under her steady hand. Maybe that was why ceramics and pottery came so easily to her? But faced with the inability to have her own biological child, she resorted to something only she would think was possible. A clay Golem, one with free will. Guided not by instructions, but by heart and soul, by magic. He would be her masterpiece, a worthy inheritor of her elemental powers. He would be her son, Cole. 

Part 1: Spells and Sigils, 2477 words

Cole found himself staring at his reflection in the mirror again. 

He would have thought that he was used to what he looked like, since not that much ever really changed about him on a day to day basis, yet sometimes he still caught himself staring. 

Staring at the water dripping from his hair following the morning shower, carving a path that was crafted by the muscle on his shoulder and down his chest. Then it eventually met its routes end, dropping off, missing the towel he had wrapped around his waist and hitting the wooden floor of his bedroom in the monastery. More drops of water followed in its wake. Cole still stared. 

It was probably because of the day. That was it, it was because of the day he was looking at himself in a different light that didn't make itself known on normal days. 

It was only once a year, when this day came about. The anniversary of the day his mother had finished her magnum opus, a project that she'd put her life and talents and everything into. Something she'd crafted so lovingly, skilled hands moulding an immense amount of clay; painting perfect and exact amounts of glaze onto the visage of an adolescent male. Months and months of work coming to fruition in the form of something she'd always wanted but had always eluded her. 

This was the day that she'd brought her son into the world. 

The day that she had finally filled him with magic and life, the day she'd created an extremely unique being. 

Well, with the elemental power of Earth along with an innate grasp of magic courtesy of her parents and pure talent for ceramics, it was no wonder that she'd managed to create something that had never been done before.

A clay Golem, this time guided by a soul. A Golem with elemental powers, one that wasn't controlled by instructions on a small piece of paper or stone tablet placed under the tongue every morning. 

There was free will. The ability to speak, to walk around, to eat and enjoy food, to feel emotions and love. All due to a neat and flowing script of runes dutifully marked over his body. 

Cole lifted his hand and slowly ran his fingers over the scripture situated above his left collarbone. The words were a deep black colour, easily mistaken for a tattoo; the colour had faded just a little from what it used to be but the glyphs were still clear. 

'Speech' or 'The act of speaking', was the literal translation. 

Everything he was, was held in these short symbols on his skin, and without them he was literally nothing but a soulless automation with nothing else. No emotion, no self-awareness, no thoughts -- he'd been there before. Twice, actually. 

The first time was on the Dark Island, and a misplaced swing from a stone warrior had taken a good chunk of stone from his shoulder and rendered the speech rune useless. 

Then there was Chen's island, where all of the runes had been blurred due to the loss of his elemental abilities and with them his soul. That hadn't been a fun experience, from what he could remember of it. He was lucky he'd been able to plan for the scenario. 

But the runes were a part of him, always had been. 

He was Cole Brookstone, son of Lou and Gaia Brookstone, and today marked the ninth year of being given life. 

His birthday. Even though, technically, he wasn't born by conventional means. 

Even though he wasn't even human. 

Cole let out a small breath and went over to his bed to get ready for the day, pulling his gi over his still sodden hair. At least he didn't need to keep his lack of humanity a secret anymore, since a damaged rune and Misako with an in depth knowledge of old magic made keeping everything under wraps pretty hard.

Though he had been lucky in some respect, since if Misako hadn't been there to explain the situation and help fix the rune, then Cole would have found it very hard to guide his then very concerned family as to how to properly put a broken Golem back together when he literally had no words to use. No voice. Nothing. 

Still, birthday or not, there was no rest from training; not when the resident electric chicken had some method of finding its way into anyone's room who wasn't awake and in the courtyard on time. 

Cole shuddered at the notion and towelled off his hair as best he could, though his gi had definitely not been spared from the water. 

Today was just a normal day. A regular day. Birthday celebrations were never his thing anyway. 

If he could just have a relaxing day training, then he'd class that as a win.. 

Though that went out the window as he swung open the door to his room, and the blue blur that was Jay shot past without so much as a 'Look out!'.

"Hey, watch where you're going, Ozone Breath! Some of us are still waking up!" Cole shouted down the hallway as he stepped out, his hands absentmindedly tightening his belt a little. Something to fiddle with. 

Jay turned back with a grin and a raised eyebrow, "Someone hasn't had his morning coffee!" He shouted back, then turned and made his way outside. 

How he had any energy at that time in the morning, Cole wasn't entirely sure. But he could put it down to him staying up all night playing video games, and running on leftover adrenaline and fumes. 

At least that meant training would be a breeze. 

Cole walked outside. 

Everyone else was already there, and in a mixed state of wakefulness. Zane, as per usual, was sitting down in a meditative position near the centre of the pavilion; Kai was swinging his sword randomly at a training dummy before a large yawn broke free from his mouth. 

Cole liked to think he was awake enough for early morning training, but the fuzziness in his vision and his slightly dragging feet even after a good shower said otherwise. 

One good thing about the day was that no one was the wiser to it's significance. They just got on with everything, and for that he was thankful. 

"Ever think we should move training into the afternoon." came Lloyd's voice as he walked out into the courtyard, stretching his arms above his head. If Sensei Wu had been within ear shot, those words would have earned a sharp tap to the head with his bo-staff. 

Jay sighed, "We tried that once, but Sensei said we were wasting the day."

"And what better time to get things done?" Cole raised an eyebrow, spreading his hands as he walked towards the general middle of the group. "Train in the morning, then we have the rest of the day to do whatever."

"Morning should start at nine, not at six."

He couldn't help the eye roll at Jay's remark. "You know, maybe if you went to sleep instead of playing games all night you might not feel like walking roadkill. It's not like we're doing it for no reason, being a ninja is a full-time job." Cole looked around the group, "And I don't want Sensei to start messing with us again."

There seemed to be a unanimous thought that ran through the team in a second, and acknowledgement that no one wanted to go through that experience again. Even Zane winced at the memory of a booby trapped monastery. 

Cole clapped his hands once. 

"Right, sooner we start, sooner we'll finish. Sparring with weapons today, no powers."

"Ha! Because Kai is always losing his!" 

There was a growled, "Shut it, Jay!” then Kai turned to face Cole, “Anyway, who said you were deciding what we were doing?" The question was general, and expected. 

"I don't see anyone else with any plans. Plus, we need to learn to not rely on our abilities. We've all lost them before at some point or another."

"Yeah, but when we lose our powers we don't become decor." Jay said. 

Cole rolled his eyes. He was used to that, the teasing, it actually made him smile slightly. If you couldn't laugh at your flaws--

He went over to the weapons rack and hefted a hammer. Heavy, but balanced. Perfect. 

"Jay, you're with me."

Jay spluttered, "What? But I was going to go against Zane!"

"You can go against Zane afterwards, as well, if you want." Cole gave a slight smile, resting the head of the hammer against the ground, "Don't want to fight me? Scared or something?" 

There was a laugh from behind him, and it sounded like Lloyd. 

That just seemed to spur Jay on, his voice growing an octave. "Me, scared of you? Not in a million years, dirt clod." 

"Really? You know, you had me fooled. I thought I saw you shaking in your boots."

Arcs of lightning flickered briefly over the chain of Jay's nunchucks before they died down just as fast, "I'm not-- You know what, fine! Just don't cry when I put you on your ass." 

"I don't cry."

There was a brief pause, "Is that like a Golem thing? Or--" 

"No, no, it's a choice. I just do the exact opposite of what you do and I haven't cried in years."

Cole could see Jay getting riled and tightened his grip on his hammer, but otherwise didn't move a muscle.

"You can fight Zane. I get it, don't want to go against me. No shame in admitting that you're--" 

The first strike came as fast as lightning, and he'd barely shifted out of the way before the second one descended. 

This wasn't Jay using his powers, he was just scary fast. Which was why the choice of sparring partner was to both of their advantages. Jay was fast, Cole was strong. They both had contending qualities that they needed to learn to fight against. 

On the third strike, he lifted his hammer, supporting it with two hands and received a reverberating clang of metal through his arms when both the weapons made contact. 

Though the fight didn't stop there, it was only getting started. 

Cole already felt wide awake. 

He stepped forwards and swung his weapon, missing Jay by a hair breadth. 

The next blows were traded sharply, fluidly. Moving from offence to defence in less than a second. 

Cole would be lying if he said he didn't like sparing against Jay. He was a formidable opponent, especially when he stopped cracking jokes and focused. Which was rare enough. 

"Come on, Sparky, you really think some fancy nunchuck spins are going to beat me?" He took a small step back to catch his breath. He didn't know what the rest of the team was doing, but with the amount of area they were using up for this spar, they were probably watching what was happening. 

Then in the next second Jay was right in front of him, and the nunchucks connected with his cheek a millisecond later. 

Cole's face snapped sideways, though he held his ground. His feet barely even moved from their position, if only for a minor step back. His eyes widened, though he opened and closed his jaw as if to check it was still working, and still connected to his face. 

His reaction to the strike, or lack thereof, seemed to translate over to Jay. 

Jay, who stood there, slack jawed and nunchucks held loosely in his grip. "You just--! What?" He shouted, "You didn't even move! Did you even feel that?" 

Cole carefully ran his fingers over his cheek. If that hit had been any harder, or with a more formidable weapon, it could have caused a bit of damage. "I felt something." He admitted, then raised an eyebrow at Jay, "Definitely something." 

"You-- what? Was that like--" Jay paused, his hands moving a mile a minute, as if he was trying to find the words. "That was a Golem thing, wasn't it? That better have been a Golem thing!" 

"It was a Golem thing." Cole admitted, then rolled his shoulders. "Try harder next time, you might make me take two steps back."

Famous last words. 

They traded blows for another minute before Jay got another solid hit in. 

This time a direct downwards strike to his shoulder, and Cole's hand immediately shot up to the site of the impact with a pained grunt. 

Jay, meanwhile, seemed elated he'd got another hit in. 

"Ow." Cole mumbled, wincing as he fingering at a gash that was now sliced into his gi. It was just washed, fresh on that morning and now he'd either have to stitch it or bin it. 

No, Jay was going to fix it, if he was so happy to have caused the damage in the first place. 

Cole straightened himself up, lightly waving off an approaching Zane with a small smile, then he wheeled around to the blue ninja dancing about the courtyard. 

The hit had hurt, and whilst they were no stranger to bumps and grazes from training, they didn't purposefully aim for injury. 

Jay had. Whether he'd realised it or not, he'd gone in with the intent to make contact again. Maybe get a better reaction than the brick wall one he'd gotten beforehand. 

If Cole had been any closer to human, that strike would have shattered bone.

"Jay, you i- i-" Cole faltered for a second, the word catching sharply in his throat. He gave a small cough to clear it, and dropped his hammer down onto the stone inlay. 

"Y- you i-." Cole frowned. He knew what he wanted to say, he knew what word he wanted to use. 

It just wasn't coming out.

"Cole?" He saw Kai walking over, his eyebrows furrowed. "Are you okay?" 

"I- I'm f- f- fine." He ground out, then brought a hand up to quickly cover his mouth.

Cole looked around the group, at their analysing and confused expressions; one hand was still cradled tightly over his shoulder. 

"Are you hurt?" came the question, though Kai had probably already established an answer for that. 

Cole definitely had. 

Yet physically he felt fine, sure his shoulder stung and his words were jamming in his throat, but he was fine… 

He was--

His words.

He quickly felt over his shoulder, his fingers moving in a calculated motion, small circles. Down over his chest, up to his neck, over his collarbone--

Then they dipped into a prominent crevice that hadn't been there that morning. A crack, he didn’t even need to look to know that. He could feel it, the flaking clay, the rough edges and the fissure that marred once smooth skin.

A crack, over his collarbone. 

Directly through the runes.

____

Cross-posted to AO3

Part 2 coming soon!

[ao3bronte]

Obey

0 | 1 | 2

Warnings: Characters are aged up but still drinking underage (legal drinking age is 18 in France). Wild parties, hypnosis and NSFW themes will ensue.

It's barely a few strokes past midnight, but between the Armin Van Buren thumping through the walls of the houseboat and the alcohol coursing through her veins, Marinette can't tell whether she's coming or going. It's unusual for her to actually let herself go, even if her intentions had been entirely pure before the night began; unlike her friends who partied regularly every weekend, Marinette rarely ventured further than her bedsheets on a Friday night in case of an akuma strike.

But tonight was different.

Luka had just scored a record deal with the same label that represented Jagged Stone and Juleka was hosting a celebration party in his honour on their houseboat. This was huge news, especially for her friend and former flame, and Marinette was thrilled to support him. She'd spearheaded the effort by bringing him a guitar shaped cake and caved when Mylène offered her a shot of caramel apple flavoured vodka during their celebratory toast. After all, if she could handle half a dozen kwamis leaching off her energy, certainly she could certainly handle a shot of alcohol without falling on her ass, right?

Famous last words.

While her friends had garnered a certain level of alcohol tolerance over the last few years of raging lycéen house parties, Marinette had always been the DD, the group Mom, the one who would call her friends an Uber and send them on their way with a bottle of water and a pat on the head. Building up an alcohol tolerance was hardly something Marinette even considered simply because drinking wasn't an option when she was a superhero and her friends accepted the fact that she didn't drink, especially since she was nearly a year behind them in age. It was normal, until Mylène offered her a toast and emboldened, she scarfed it down with nary a care in the world.

Choking and coughing as the fire water burned a trail down her throat, Marinette braced herself against the ship’s deck and grimaced while Alya thumped her on the back. She blinked the tears from her eyes and gasped for air as her friends eventually took pity on her, offering her a glass of water which she gladly gulped down to try and extinguish the burn. Why did anyone willingly drink this stuff? It hurt! 

“Trust me, you’ll understand why in a few minutes,” Alya assured her, taking the empty glass of water from her hands, “You just started off with the hard stuff. Hey Juleka, did you guys make any Jungle Juice?”

“Did I make any Jungle Juice...pfft,” Juleka parrots incredulously, rolling her eyes from behind her bangs, “Luka, grab the coolers from the galley!”

She felt a little more at ease by the time Juleka topped up her second helping of their infamous "Jungle Juice", a boozy, colourful concoction that no one really knew the recipe to. Usually, the Couffaines would charge a few Euros per person for access to the house drink but their friends hadn’t even blinked an eyelash when Juleka had given Marinette a stamp on her hand and a drink for free. This was their tiny, alcohol virgin Marinette after all; everyone knew that one red cup of Jungle Juice was all it would take before she passed out on Juleka's bed for the rest of the evening.

Except, one hour and a hundred new guests later, Marinette was still bouncing off the walls with the best of them.

The beat is addictive and Marinette moves her hips to the mesmerising tones, the rhythm of the bass pulsing in time with her heartbeat as she takes another sip of the mysterious purple concoction in her solo cup. She drops it low and whoops as Rose dances alongside her, their thighs grinding together as they giggle at the intimacy of it all. Is this what she'd been missing out on all this time as the sober sister? She felt so free! There was no responsibility here, no homework or crime fighting to keep her down. It felt strange, being herself like this without the looming sense of foreboding lingering over her head, as it often did, especially when she was alone at night. 

“This is awesome!” Marinette cries above the music, giddy as Rose takes her free hand and weaves their fingers together. Her body feels lighter than it has in years, but she still feels enough like herself to keep her wits about her; when Aurore had warned her about the creepy boy pressuring a girl from their grade to dance with him, Marinette had approached Juleka about it and he was thrown out of the party on his ass within minutes! Marinette could handle a little alcohol after all and she was puffed up and proud of herself for being able to keep her head above water, so to speak, even if she'd lost feeling in her fingers and cheeks long ago.

Closer to midnight, Adrien and Kagami strolled across the gangway and the whole party seemed to pause and soak in the moment, nearly bursting with joy at the sight of them. Adrien and Kagami were never allowed to come to their ragers and Alya confirms Marinette’s suspicions straight away as she walks over and outright asks them how the hell they managed to get away from their helicopter parents. Elated, Adrien waves his hands around as he describes how he snuck out of his bedroom window and met up with Kagami in some stranger’s back garden, the latter having snuck out the same way. Together, they hailed a cab over to the Couffaine houseboat, choosing cash over a traceable Uber, and Marinette admired their forethought; if only she were as clever and organised as Kagami and Adrien...maybe she would have already defeated Le Papillon long ago!

"Ooo! I love this song!" Rose cheers, dragging Marinette out of her thoughts and deeper into the throngs of dancing bodies grinding against each other to the beat of Sofi Tukker's latest hit. Distracted by the music, she feels far from claustrophobic; if anything, she loves the way the crowd hugs her body, the heat and the pressure and the sensations nudging her even further into a state of trance unlike any she's ever encountered before. Her heart and lungs tune themselves to the bass line of CamelPhat, the synthesized vocals of Martin Garrix, the wayback playbacks of Tiësto and Marinette's soul seems to dilate to the rhythm of pure, floor-thumping dance music, lost in a drunken flurry of an almost voyeuristic escapade set at 125 BPM.

She runs into Adrien eventually, and Kagami shortly thereafter. He's bought them both a stamp for the Jungle Juice and Kagami looks like she'd rather be drinking water out of the Seine.

"It's not great, I know," Marinette smiles, gently clinking her red cup against hers, "But it's kind of fun, right? Are you having fun?"

Kagami's expression softens, "Are you?"

"I think so," Marinette answers, and it's mostly the truth, "I've been kind of stressed out lately. I feel better now."

"I understand what you mean," Kagami brushes some confetti off Marinette's shoulder and lets her hand linger on the seam of her cardigan, "Santé?"

Kagami holds her drink aloft and Marinette giggles, returning the gesture, "Kanpai!"

~

It’s hard to tell what hour it is when the world is spinning around her ears but she stumbles upon Adrien, quite literally, some time later when she goes to refill her drink. He's chatting with Kim and Alix, the latter of which is trying very hard to keep her eyelids open as she teeters against Kim's side, determined as ever to keep up with him.

"Sorry!" Marinette cries out, feeling a little silly as she extricates herself from Adrien's arms. He managed to keep his Jungle Juice from cascading down her clothing, which is more that she can say for him. He doesn't seem to notice that she's spilled some of her own purple drink on his shoes and doesn't admit to anything as she straightens, red as a beetroot.

"It's alright," he replies, his eyes smiling as he holds on to her shoulders. She's glad for the grounding, considering the way the details of his face seems to blur in and out of vision, "How was last period today? Did I miss anything important?"

It takes Marinette a few moments for her to realise that he’s talking about school, “I don’t think so, really. But maybe…” she trails off, staring skyward at the cloud cover overhead, “Oh, I think M. Legars posted the rubric for our next assignment on Google Classroom?”

“About time,” Adrien’s lips quirk at the corner, “I was beginning to think we’d be going into midterms blind.”

Marinette shrugs, “I guess not.”

“I guess not,” he mirrors, offering her a smile, “This is a pretty awesome party. I’m glad I could sneak out and make it.”

“I’m glad you could too!” Marinette exclaims, her voice coming out a little louder than she intended it to. Her tongue doesn’t feel like it usually does and she sticks it out passed her lips to give it a stretch, much to Adrien’s amusement, “I mean, it’s just like...it’s good that you could come to support Luka!”

“He is a pretty awesome guy,” Adrien takes a sip of his drink and makes a face, “Ugh, this stuff is awful.”

“You get used to it after a while,” Marinette assures him, bumping his elbow with her own simply because she feels like it, “I’m on my second cup and I can hardly taste it anymore.”

“That’s...encouraging, I guess,” Adrien takes a bigger gulp and swallows it with a hiss and a shake, “Hey, I heard you brought Luka a cake earlier. Is there still any left?”

Marinette’s eyes light up, “Oh yeah! There’s still a little bit left I think, but we put it downstairs in the galley so it wouldn’t get all gross,” Marinette explains, her words coming easily to her now. Since Adrien had begun his relationship with Kagami over a year ago, things between them had become much more relaxed than she could have ever expected, “If you go down those stairs over there, the galley is the first door on your...right, I think.”

“Thanks Marinette!” Adrien grins, squeezing her shoulder gently, “I can’t wait to try it. Alya says it’s red velvet?”

“With blue and purple cream cheese frosting!” Marinette wriggles her body, his inhibitions long forgotten, “You’ll love it!”

He laughs, “Perfect, I’ll go get a slice for Kagami and I right now.”

“Okay!” she waves him off as he walks around her, leaving her all by herself on the deck. There are feelings swirling in her gut and try as she might, she can’t seem to pull her thoughts together and understand them. What was she even thinking about a moment earlier? She peers across the throng of partygoers and notices Kagami standing on the sidelines, nursing her red solo cup as Nino chats beside her about something or other. Marinette feels a little bad for her, but at least she’s been able to make a few friends at the party. Adrien is a natural social butterfly and she’s glad his affable and generous nature is helping Kagami come out of her shell.

Smiling, Marinette shrugs and turns back towards the party on deck, already half forgetting her conversation with Adrien in the first place.

She’s over near the captain’s bridge taking her chances at another shot of vodka with the girls when a crackle of thunder and a bolt of lightning careens across the sky. Her hairs stand on edge as Marinette glances upwards, frowning as another crackle of energy lances through the clouds like a spiderweb. She follows the bursts of light with her eyes until her suspicions are confirmed and the horrible realization sinks like a stone in her gut.

“It wasn’t supposed to rain tonight,” Marinette murmurs, wincing as the light burns through her vision. She hears Alya pull her mobile out beside her and glances down at the weather app.

“It’s says it’s supposed to be clear,” Alya reads the temperature, then flicks the screen to the radar, “There’s something over Paris though.”

Mylène looks over Alya’s elbow, “That doesn’t look normal.”

“Nothing is normal in Paris,” Alya snorts, shoving her phone in her back pocket, “Hopefully it blows over soon.”

“Unless it’s an—”

Rushing up from the wind through the trees, the keening wail of the akuma alert sirens around Paris confirms it.

“AKUMA! GET DOWN!”

Another crackle of electric energy bends wildly across the sky and Marinette braces for the static that scrabbles at her ears and her hair, feathering fear up and down her spine.

“It is I, Mesmer!” a disembodied female voice cries from above their heads, the source still hidden within the clouds, “I will reveal your darkest desires to everyone, just like it was done to me!”

Marinette swallows and looks around for the nearest door.

“No longer will you be forced to keep your secrets inside! No longer will you have to hide what you truly are, what you truly long to be!”

The doors are shut. The way is blocked by panicking partygoers, all surging for the exits.

“Look at me!” the voice cries, and everyone’s neck jerks upwards unbidden, “You will heed the sound of my voice! Let me inside your minds! Let me see your souls, and set them free!”

Marinette tries, she really does, but the voice...it...she can’t...it’s…

“Hello Marinette,” the voice cooes like a balm of friendship whispered in her ears, “You have constructed a wall around your heart to keep it safe. You will feel much more comfortable if you tear that wall down tonight.”

Marinette nods in tandem with everyone around her, “Haven’t you ever wondered what it’s like to be with someone, to let them touch your skin and kiss your lips with reverence? Haven’t you ever wanted to be adored, doted on, appreciated for your beauty, your grace, your kindness? Haven’t you ever wanted to throw away your responsibilities and let your hair down for a little, free to kiss and be kissed by anyone you choose?”

She feels her stomach quiver with anticipation, “Yes.”

“Then I want you to tear away your inhibitions. I want you to be yourself and embrace the girl you truly want to be. I want you to find the object of your adoration and show them what it would mean to be your lover. I want you to find your friends and show them that you’re not the pushover they think you are.”

“I will.”

“You are the strongest mind I have encountered,” the voice commends, dripping like honey, “I like that. I want to reward you, celebrate you. I want to make you their Queen.”

“I will rule them.”

“Release your inhibitions. Stand free and proud of what you truly want to be.”

“I will be free.”

“That’s it,” she commands, her influence combing through Marinette’s hair like wisps of cloud, “What will you do first?”

Marinette tugs the ties from her hair and gasps, the sense of euphoria overwhelming.

“Do you like that feeling? Would you like more?”

She nods, tugging on her lip with her teeth as red hot pleasure oozes at the base of her spine. It’s unlike anything she’s ever felt before and she thrives on the way it makes her muscles loosen and tighten at the same time, completely in control.

“Show them. Show them the true Marinette. Show them the force of nature you can be.”

[imaginekpoplikethis]

Mixing it up sequel scenarios - TroubleMaker! Min Yoongi X reader - Part 1

Mixing it up is back! As scenarios which all take place after the events of the original story so to understand the context and references it would probably be better if you have read the original which I will link below. I hope you all enjoy this comeback. It’s gonna be a ride 🤩

Original Mixing it up story

Part 1 - Here

————

Standing before the very school you hated with a passion several months ago, you couldn’t help the grin that slid onto your face. Honestly, it didn’t look half as bad as you expected it to after the disaster that hit but that was to be expected since it was high on the towns priority list even before the fire. You weren’t sure why exactly but you also didn’t care to dwell on such trivial matters.

��Hey Y/N! Hellooo. Are you there? We’re gonna be late to class if you don’t stop staring mindlessly at the school and I don’t wanna have to introduce myself through the first period.”

Snapping back to reality, you linked arms with Suhyun and dragged her towards the entrance.

“Wow! It’s scary how much you’ve changed. I remember a time you would have entertained the idea of missing school for a month if it meant not having to share the same school grounds as Yoongi. Now-“ You playfully pinched her side invoking a squeal out of her.

“I know I know! You don’t have to remind me...”

A giggle escaped Suhyun at your embarrassed tone and she tugged you towards her.

“I’m just kidding around. I’d be excited too if I got to see my boyfriend everyday for at least a month.”

Exited? You were ecstatic if anything.

“What class is he in by the way?”

A small sigh escaped you.

“I have no idea, he wouldn’t say. Was probably hoping he wouldn’t jinx it and somehow have us end up in different classes.”

His hopes were high. The odds of actually ending up in his class were five to one.

Your mind drifted off at the thought of your boyfriend, Min Yoongi. It’s worth mentioning back before you had been forced to share your school with him, you would have scowled and turned to walk in the other direction at the sight of someone with mint coloured hair. That all changed after all the events that transpired throughout his stay at your school. Honestly, it was a hectic time, something that would fit more into a drama than your life but you’re happy they occurred nonetheless.

Focusing back on the present, you found yourself standing in the corridor of the lowest floor, Suhyun talking to herself about where your classes were.

“You’re in class 3-d right? I’m in 3-a so obviously we’re both heading to the third floor. Ugh, I can’t believe we’re split up. We’ve been in the same class for years now.”

Starting the trek up the stairs, you watched as she pouted in disappointment.

“Suhyun, this isn’t permanent.”

“I know but I wanted to have at least one friend in my class.”

That wouldn’t be hard. She was practically a ball of sunshine. A lot like someone else you know...

“Don’t worry you’ll be fine! Who wouldn’t want to be friends with you? You’re kind, super friendly and charismatic.”

Reaching the third floor, her class was right by the staircase and so she turned towards you.

“Hehe, you’re such a great friend. You always know what to say to cheer me up.

A cute grin spread on her face and she envelops you in a quick hug which you giddily returned.

“I’ll see you at lunchtime?” Upon your nod of approval, she turned towards the classrooms doorway.

“Great, I’ll wait for you outside your class. See you in a bit.”

After watching her enter the class, you took to walking down the somewhat busy hallway, eyes trained on the sign reading ‘3-d.’

Hoisting your bag higher on your shoulder you opened the door, the class’ home room teacher already standing at his desk, early.

“Ah, you might as well introduce yourself now. Your other class mates have already done so.”

Giving a small nervous smile, you quickly nodded and made your way to the front of the class. Shifting from foot to foot, your eyes scanned the room for any familiar faces. Sighing lightly when your eyes couldn’t detect anyone you knew, you cleared your throat and readied yourself for the possible stuttering mess of an introduction you would deliver.

The sound of the door opening halted your introductory speech, eyes snapping to the doorway only to light up at the familiar face and not so familiar hair.

“Min Yoongi! Late yet again. This must be the tenth time in two weeks.”

More importantly, he’s brunette now. Not that you were complaining.

A tired gaze fell upon the teacher and he simply rubbed at his eyes, grumbling to himself.

“What was that!?”

“Nothing sir.” Yoongi was quick to dismiss whatever he had initially said. His eyes finally landed on you and a smirk slowly spread upon his lips.

“Well well... Y/N. Nice of you to join us.” Cue the tingling sensation that usually adorned your cheeks at his lazy smirk.

“Yoongi please take your seat, you’re holding up the rest of the class.” Despite it feeling as if you both were the only ones in the room for a second, your temporary teacher was quick to snap you out of it, the growing annoyance clear in his tone. Yoongi surprisingly listened to the instructions though the smirk remained on his face, his head lowered as he made his way to his desk.

“Sorry about that. You should be able to make your introduction without any further interruptions.”

The teacher clapped a hand on your shoulder, a supportive smile being sent your way though it did nothing to ease your nervousenss, especially since an extra pair of eyes were watching you far more intently than the rest.

He was most probably waiting for you to stutter and flush red, something he would one hundred percent use as ammo to tease you later on.

———

“You should have seen the look on her face when she stuttered out her own name.”

Annoyance was a common theme whenever Yoongi decided to make fun of you. Sure, you had seen this coming, call it a premonition and name yourself Raven if you will. However, it still irked you that he felt the need to recall the moment to everyone at the lunch table.

“Well they didn’t Yoongi and they won’t ever see the “look on my face” so drop it.”

Did the words come out harsher than you intended? Yes. Did it make you seem angered by his actions? Yes.

Did Yoongi care?

That would be a big, bold-

“I just remembered... they can see. I filmed it.”

-no.

He proceeded to pull out his phone and unlock it, finding the most recent media in his camera roll. Taehyung cheered and high fived Hoseok  whilst everyone else all too eagerly leant forward to catch a glimpse of your mess of an introduction. All you could do was groan and rise from your seat.

It seemed your awkward moments were still getting filmed to this day.

“Aw, where are you going Y/N? Don’t worry you look cute!”

Leave it to Suhyun to try and cheer you up.

“I’m just going to get a drink from the vending machine. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Leaving the group to their own devices, you headed outside of the lunch room to the nearby machine. After deciding on a peach Lipton and checking the price, you reached a hand into your pocket only to groan a second time at the realisation that you left your money in your bag. As you were turning to leave an arm reached over your shoulder and put in several coins and punched in the iced teas number.

Eyes widening you spun on your heel, coming face to face with the last person you were expecting.

“Mi-Rae...”

Said girl offered you a tight smile though it resembled more of a grimace than anything. She looked significantly different from the last time you had seen her. Her hair was now short and she looked somewhat tired.

“Hey...”

There was pregnant silence where you both simply stared at one another, bad memories replaying in your minds. She eventually broke eye contact with you to reach down and grab the drink that had been dispensed. Turning it in her hands, her eyes nervously flitted back to yours. She beckoned you to move to the side to let other students use the vending machine and joined you against a wall.

“I... I never got the chance to say sorry after everything. After we fought and I was questioned by the police, I was lucky enough to end up with community service. I’m far from done with it but it’s still given me a lot of time to think. About why I acted out and how I treated you and others around me.”

The genuine guilt and sorrow held in her eyes made you feel extremely awkward. You didn’t know what to say.

“You’re a really nice person who was trying to do a good thing. While we were friends, I had fun and I’d like to believe you did too.”

Realisation dawned on her that she was beginning to babble on.

“Er- what I’m getting at is... I’m sorry. Really and truly sorry. For framing you for the pen incident, being mean and literally fighting you.”

She reached out her hand holding the tea to the side and you slowly took it, releasing a sigh.

“Mi-Rae... I wish you had just taken responsibility for your actions instead of dumping it on others. Maybe then none of that would have happened and we could have been friends without all the drama.”

You cringed at the use of the word ‘drama’. That was the understatement of the century if not millennium.

“Lord knows though wishing about things that happened in the past gets you nowhere. So I think the only thing to do is forgive but not forget.”

“Yeah... Thank you for hearing me out. You could have walked away at any time but you have me a chance. You really are kind.”

You thought back to your brawl with her. Her use of kind might have been a stretch.

“Not that much but thanks. Good luck with your community service and... I’ll see you around?”

You silently hoped you would. It would help you to keep all the bad blood in the past. Reaching out your hand for her to shake, she grasped it, this time a genuine smile gracing her lips.

“I’d like that.”

———

“Wow you took ages, I almost grew white hairs.”

Yoongis voice was the first to reach your ears and you grinned at him. A weight you didn’t know you had felt like it had been lifted.

“Yeah, I bumped into Mi-Rae.”

A scowl overtook his face and the table looked at you in shock.

“What? Did she do or say anything? Maybe she needs to be reminded what she put you through.”

Seating yourself beside Yoongi, you linked your arm with his own and calmly patted his leg.

“Don’t worry, she just apologised for everything. To be honest, it was so awkward I didn’t know what to do. We decided to move on but not forget. She seems like a totally different person.”

He scoffed at your retelling of the encounter and you pinched him in retaliation.

“If that’s what you want, fine. Her being a different person probably has something to do with the fact she’s practically an outcast now.”

You looked down at the table, sadness replacing the relief you had felt.

“That’s... kind of upsetting to hear.”

He rubbed your back to comfort you and pulled your head to lay on the side of his arm whilst Jimin interjected.

“She’s not completely alone. I see her with Yura a lot so don’t feel too bad.”

“That’s good. I’m glad she doesn’t hold anything against her.”

A silence enfolded the table, one that Hoseok was quick to interrupt.

“Anyway, we should do something after class.”

“On a Monday?”

Doing something after school on a Monday... you couldn’t think of anything worse than that idea right now.

“Yeah, there’s a crazy discount at the arcade next to the mall on Mondays. Plus they serve after school meal deals.”

A chorus of approvals rang throughout the table.

Despite this seemingly great opportunity, your bed sounded more appealing at this precise moment.

“I think I’m gonna go home instead.”

Boos were what you were greeted with and you rolled your eyes.

“Oh my gosh, okay fine.”

“Yes! The entire group is hanging out tonight! Everyone meet outside the school gates after the last bell.”

Whilst everyone agreed, Yoongi lowered his mouth to ear level and muttered into your ear.

“You were always gonna come. I would’ve made sure.”

Gosh, he was so annoying. Even more so since you know he would have definitely succeeded.

[n0kt3rnal]

Crescent city house of earth and blood - review

Spoilers ahead, don’t read this if you don’t want the story spoiled for you.

I would give this book a 7.5/10. There are some beautiful moments and some that drag. The writing can feel bland at times and incredibly moving at others. The last couple of hundred pages were the show stopper part of the book without a doubt but it takes it time reaching it.

The actual style of the writing was the most problematic part of the book to me. Hunt and Bryce’s point of views have very similar language and phrases, not only to each other, but also with SJM’s other novels. This leads to the characters feeling samey or a little flat at times even though they aren’t supposed to be. For example “gods-damned” seems to be a phrase that pops up frequently in every single character SJM writes. Often Bryce could have been interchanged with Aelin and I wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference between who was speaking. The sex scenes have some cringe inclusions and can at times be badly written. I found myself rolling my eyes at “Hunt’s eyes darkened” when he was aroused. Nobodies eyes change colour when they’re horny. Your pupils dilate but your eyes don’t change colour. Or when “Bryce erupted” when she kissed Hunt. This just makes me think of her body literally exploding or something instead of being overcome with lust. Even though it’s clear what’s meant, it takes away from the scene in my opinion.

However SJM’s descriptions of mental health are wonderfully written. This does seem to be her strong point as an author. Bryce’s and Hunt’s experiences with trauma are covered very accurately. The moment where Hunt is in the shower and having a panic attack felt particularly authentic to me. Or when Bryce comes across the murder scene and has a flashback. These topics were handled with sensitivity and empathy. When the book wasn’t trying to be sexy it ended up being written a lot better.

The plot starts off a little slowly, and there are again a lot of recycled plot points from her previous novels. We have another dead friend in a bedroom, more magical objects that hold the key to the whole story unfolding, fae fighting the demons, discovering secret powers, I could go on. There were an awful lot of parallels with other books that I would loved to have seen some divergence from. This won’t be a problem to a reader who is reading an SJM book for the first time, but lacks freshness to a returning reader. However, despite the slow start, you find yourself rooting for the characters success. By the end of the novel the best parts come in quick succession. Bryce’s drop at the end of the novel is incredibly powerful. I found myself in tears when she hears Danika’s voice through the gate. If you can get though some of the slower parts at the start, the end stage of the novel is worth waiting for.

The themes of the novel include PTSD, trauma, friendship, a fantasy exploration of racism (as it is more focussed on fae/humans but the message still translates), slut shaming, slavery and sexism. I loved how Bryce was allowed to be both sexy, confident and open to hook ups whilst remaining multifaceted. It never overtook her character as a main trait, but initially other characters treat her badly because of it and assume she’s a bimbo with big boobs. Her trauma is constantly ignored because of it as well. I felt that this was explored successfully.

The main characters felt initially a little dislikable to me, especially Hunt, but my opinions on this changed by the end of the story and I ended up really liking them both. Bryce is initially painted as selfish, but the reader is mainly being led to judge her like everyone else in the novel. It becomes clear that she’s actually a very giving person who just has a lot of assumptions made about her, and I liked how SJM played this. “Party girls” are allowed their own personalities in this story and I liked that aspect of it. Hunt is initially quite unpleasant which made me worry he was going to stay this way throughout the story but he eventually atones for his problematic elements and recognizes his mistakes. This was another thing I felt worked well, as he doesn’t start off being all that great, and ends up being selfless.

All in all I really enjoyed the book. There were definitely some problematic elements and some parts of the story that dragged. The writing quality wasn’t consistent but it didn’t stop the book from being a really fun read. However I don’t agree with some of the claims on the novel of it being the best fantasy in the decade or it being a master of its genre. I would recommend this story to anyone who likes a good old fashioned sappy hate to love style romance with an urban fantasy setting. Be warned of potential triggers when it comes to trauma or mental illness.

[starsreign]

☆ /  @irnmaidn​ :  🌠 give me all of them !!! 💖            SEND 🌠 && I'LL RECOMMEND A PLOT FOR US TO TRY OUT !!  || accepting !!

i added a few recently too so like...this gonna be long sry....

☆ AHRI.   i mean...would cass like to meet a sexy fox spirit ?? because she could if she wants !! she’s curious && fairly cordial but she’s very deadly && mysterious && just kind of comes off with an air of uncertainty whether u should trust her or not && i think that’d be fun with cass cause we kno she loves dangerous mysterious women with a taste for biting wit. but in my tangled verse it’s similar to her canon -- she’s a fox spirit && has been alive for so long, ever searching for where her people like her are && where she came from. so perhaps cass could run into her && help ahri post series ?? or she could simply be along for the ride with mysterious && selfish reasons she won’t say but either way it’s always interesting to think about when her cloak finally drops && cass gets to find out about the fox ears && nine tails ;’) also she’d probably flirt with cass sry not sry

☆ NEEKO.   iiim admittedly still working on her tangled verse cause she’s a chameleon but pls love my lesbian chameleon girl she deserves the world tbh ?? she’s extremely sweet despite her entire tribe being destroyed && killed && she FELT every single bit of it && felt her people fade away. she’s pure sunshine but she WILL fight when she has to, when there’s no other option or when people with good sho’ma are endangered. she’s looking to make a new tribe for herself now -- made up of everyone, not just oovi-kat, so she really takes in everyone who she can && who is willing. she can shapeshift by extending her sho’ma to other’s sho’ma which is a sort of spiritual essence && she can borrow their appearance, gain current emotional state && recent memories to better camouflage as them && immediately kno friend from foe so i think it’d be rly neat tbh for cass to encounter that ?? plus with neeko she wouldn’t have to open up too much or have to fight to express her emotions or voice them since neeko can feel && sense && taste emotion -- they have colours && tastes to her. she can also split herself into two, sending out a clone of herself while she becomes invisible && has a lot of floral / plant based magic as well so i think she’d rly vibe with ur cass portrayal !! but tbh she’s very chipper upbeat && kinda rapunzely personality wise -- she’s just very curious about the world && wants to learn everything since she was from a magical tribe that isolated themselves from the world, so for hundreds of years she’s literally ONLY known her tribe && their home && it’s EXTREMELY different from the world ?? she’s so used to not physically speaking && just extending sho’ma && reading emotions from each other, so she struggles with communication && that can frustrate her sometimes, but she’s knows emotions && she can see past like faking things or past all those walls she’s got up !! it’d be neat...theyd be....cute tbh... i rambled too much but i just rly love neeko sm n if u wanna kno more about her or any of these u can ask too !! also...not for nothing but neeko rly rly loves n swoons for strong badass ladies !!

☆ KINDRED.    kindred is literally just...y’kno...death, the grim reaper whatever u wanna call them !! they’re as old as the concept of death && started as one man who cleaved himself in two so he’d have a friend -- they understand the deep pain of loneliness despite having each other now because they were born from loneliness. they’d sense that from her && i think there’s plenty of times she could have met them, when death was near to her or around her && theyre certainly not entirely happy about her resurrection. they’re easily translatable into any verse but they are very ethereal && magical && love to play with people. so anything considering death. near death or perhaps just running into them if cass happens near a particularly brutal bandit robbery about to take place on the road that ultimately she wont be able to stop even if they tell her about it :’)

☆ HANA.   hjdksmd u kno i love these already n all we’ve talked about aa !! but also i’d literally be up for anything i love them sm already !! but like ?? soft moments ?? cass getting to come to her kingdom ?? getting to pilot the mechs n getting to just uuhhhh live her life be free n be happy ??

but also :eyes: hehe what if we also have a plotline where hana finds out about the moonstone thing n meets her while she has the moonstone n tries to talk her down :’) possibly mushy stuff they don’t wanna say could come out too mayhaps :thinking:

☆ AMITY.   she’s a little witch !! in her tangled verse she’s still a witch but she && her family are more in hiding about their powers && school so they’re all hidden away but amity’s family is a very, very noble family with a lot of money && power -- which extends to magic too lol. but it’d be Neat to meet cass n like amity looking up to her ?? she’s a lot like cass tbh, pretentious mean girl type who is rly rly icy n mean n sassy on the outside but she’s soft inside she just CANNOT show weakness n she oof is rly oppressed by her family n standards set for her n she ALSO has a crush on a sunshine girl who happens to be human. n she reads to younger kids n helps them out she’s softe secretly...just has a lot of pressure on her -- her parents wont let her hang around witches with lesser talent either. they’d get along i think after like tension but she’s just a lil teen witch n needs a good strong role model but she could also help cass out with the whole magic thing ykno ?? 

☆ PERFUMA.   ooooh they’d be cute !! perfuma is just...so sweet n positive n !! i’d love to interact with her in any of ur she.ra verses or i could absolutely try to fit her into a tangled verse but i’d absolutely want to keep her plant powers but that’d be neat with ur cass n her powers too !!

oh !! or aaalso, concept: we could have perfuma interacting with chrys !! n like when her n cass start working with the princess alliance n her helping them out n giving them insider info even if shes nervous n its dangerous n just perfuma helping her with that n giving her pep talks about her being brave ?? helping her with fashion stuff, helping her adjust to life where her sister can’t help as much ?? that’d be so cute bhadjksbh

☆ AKALI.   hehehee akali n cass would be hilarious at first i swear it -- they’re both headstrong, stubborn && sassy tbh. she’s from an order of acolytes that try to keep the balance of the spiritual / magical realm && the outside realms; she was raised in it && her mother && father were higher ups && very powerful in the order -- her father died in an attack led by her master’s friend on the order && they had to flee && try to remake with smaller ranks when she was very young. she succeeded her mother as the fist of the shadow but could not vibe with the way her master wasn’t taking action like she wanted to -- she wanted to restore balance in her way && she wanted to spill blood to do it because that’d be the only way to do it, so as an adult she just peaced off to do it her own way. && tbh that could fit in with a tangled verse -- just in the shadows, keeping the balance of magic unseen to most. she’s a trained assassin && she can literally throw three kunai && pierce three different hearts while in the midst of a smoke bomb like she’s insanely good -- she is also tiny n has some amazing muscles on her arms back && has very visible abs n she sexy n she kills me daily !! but they could get along ?? she does some magic but she was never the best at it tbh but depending on where in the timeline they meet it could be interesting ?? like s1 would be neat for her to meet someone like akali ?? another strong woman fighter but she also comes from a place that praised women’s strength instead of putting it down -- buuuuut she was hiiiighly ignored by her own mother in favour of another neophyte growing up so....ykno...Mood right ?? it stings a lot -- she saved everyone from a corrupted tree spirit n had the girl she looked up to spit in her face because she lost her leg n blamed it on akali && then her mother praised the girl instead of akali despite the other kids telling her what akali had done n singlehandedly dragged them to safety n she was like around nine or ten or so at the time... but it’d be cool if they met s1 n got to kno each other n maaaybe akali joins them on their journey since it has a lot to do with restoring the magical balance of the world n they could use a master assassin but also...the angst with cass taking the moonstone n the conflict akali would face about having to oust her cause ykno...shes fucking up the balance n thats her ykno....entire purpose riiiip

☆ WIDOWMAKER.   IDK BUT OOF i love widow. i haven’t thought about a tangled verse or a fantasy verse but like uuhhh something about being a french noblewoman married to a freedomfighter but ending up being brainwashed by some magical sect or talon but they’re part of zhan tiris crew or whatever ?? might be neat. she killed her husband && she’s just a little bit possessed now && a ruthless killer. so maaaaaybe....her trying to stop them on their journey to the dark kingdom ?? but her brainwashing starts wearing off the more she’s away from the source tbh -- but also, she’d be on cass’ side when she has the moonstone n honestly that’s very powerful, she’d have a very powerful ally to keep her on track && help like tell her she’s doing great because in the end she’s on zhan tiris side && she can probably see her the whole time && would be working to help get her back to power. also up in the air whether she ends up regaining herself later on && helping cass escape or whatever but she’d feel intensely guilty yikes but anyway i think it’d be honestly rly rly interesting n i’d love to do something with this if u’d be up for it bhdajkmd n like i said we can talk about any of these if u want too !! 

☆ BENSON.   i have zero ideas for this right now because his series is just so far removed from tangled....it’s a post apocalyptic universe where there’s extremely large animals some of which can talk n want to destroy humans who all live under the surface mostly except the ones who try to survive on the surface. TBH u’d love it...i think u’d love wolf specifically too ?? i dont wanna spoil anything but yeah it might be something u might enjoy ??

but also like mlm wlw solidarity pls ?? he’s a pretty carefree but smart gay teen, he’d get along pretty well with her n play off her iciness cause he’s just like that ?? he started off just caring only for himself n his bug buddy n just thieving a lot but like got a lot of character development -- but i guess he could be a thief in tangled verse ?? n like grow out of it or she could show him there’s better ways n stuff ?? idk...

[mutantsrisingrpg]

Congratulations DEAN! You’ve been accepted as ARIEL.

Dean, you don’t know how overjoyed I am to have you and your take on Lenox back in my life! Lenox is one of my favorite skeletons and you just capture him so perfectly. For Lenox, the devil is literally in the details, since he has the ability to control how they’re perceived. I love everything about him, especially when I view him through the lens you crafted (or is it the lens he crafted, and I’m actually under the spell of his powers right now? my brain hurts)! I can’t wait to see the havoc you and Lenox unleash on this dash.

Welcome to Mutants Rising! Please read the checklist and submit your account within 24 hours.

its britney bitch

NAME/ALIAS: Dean

PRONOUNS: She/her

AGE: 22

TIMEZONE & ACTIVITY LEVEL: GMT, i’m fairly active bean and am always here to plot

In Character Information:

DESIRED ROLE: Lenox Syed

GENDER/PRONOUNS: Cismale, he/him

DETAILS & ANALYSIS: This is where you show us who the character is to you! The format of this doesn’t matter, whether it’s in bullet points or in para form, and can be as long as you’d like it to be. Feel free to get creative!

Lenox as a boy’s name is of Scottish and Gaelic origin, and the meaning of Lenox is “with many elm trees”.

Syed or Sayyid or Sayed (Arabic and Urdu: سيدعلی) is a family of Syeds in South Asia, notably India and Pakistan. Syeds are the direct descendants of the Islamic Prophet Muhammad.

Lenox is lost in his own fantasy world. Creating so many illusions for people each day that he has become lost in one of his own. With a lack of attention through his childhood, he craves the limelight and approval of everyone around him and will do pretty much anything to get it, even if it’s false or trickery.

He’s so painstakingly constructed, he’s his own work of art. Each detail of his personality and appearance delicately manipulated into something strikingly beautiful. Someone you can look at with awe just by the way they talk or move. It’s almost hard to realise there’s another man beneath the mask, someone raw and damaged. Like a bird with a broken wing.

BIO:

Tw: Drug mention

His mother is just fifteen when she gives birth to him, swaddled in a blue blanket and passed immediately to the arms of a doctor; she never held him, never looked at his freshly reddened face as his cries wailed down the corridors. It’s not because of his mutation, not because his birth family couldn’t bare to raise a being burdened with powers. She was a child herself, naivety leaving adoption as the only logical decision.  

A foster home decides to take him in, raising him from infancy without any awareness of any abnormality. It’s where he stays for the first nine years of his life, a cosy house in Oregon that housed five other children. But the dormancy of his powers didn’t stay concealed forever. It started with his foster siblings sleepwalking, Lenox’s dreams imprinting on them accidentally as they’d trample through the house enthralled by the vivid illusions of his fantasy worlds. Then it began intertwining into everyday life, emotional outbursts of temper alluding unsafe situations like fire or monsters that hid under the bed. Games became near impossible to differentiate between make believe and reality from the second he joined in.  

“You’re unsafe,” it’s a comment he’d gladly wear as a badge of honour once he’d matured. But to the little boy being dragged away from his foster family, betrayed by his caregivers and turned in for research, the words grazed his skin like stinging nettles.

The four plain walls of the room only further ignite an overly active imagination, a tool that was dangerous to have with a power like his own. The eleven years he spends there does the opposite of what society would have hoped, boredom allows for focus and practice, it sharpens his talents and he’s able to put them to good use. By the end of his stay the doctors had favoured him among the rest, because he wills it so. They go easy on him, carefully placed illusions write false notes on his reports. Detailed and intricate enough so that he doesn’t get caught out, handwriting remarkably identical to each nurse or scientist that take their turn testing on him. He starts to admire the way it feels, too chaotic to be part of society and embedded with more potential than anyone could have known.

It’s when that potential reaches a point where imagination can no longer be imprisoned by those four walls that he decided enough was enough. The process of discharging himself was a meticulous operation. Theatrically staged and miraculously timed with an annual cell collecting test. Before he can be sedated he’s enticed the nurses into an imaginary induced coma, deep enough into his intoxication that he can use the poisoned needle on them. The theater only has the two women on the floor when the doctor enters, sly projections manipulating each person he’d bumped into on his way to the exit into that same sleep, a psychedelic world of kaleidoscope landscapes and stained glass colours, once awakening they would never see this boy again.

“You’re unsafe,” the same words, just a different context. An ally ushers him to leave Oregon and head to Chicago. A place where policies were loosened and his own kind somewhat tolerated.

The new city put Lenox’s own fresh start in full swing.

Fragile reality was a vehicle for his reinvention, so easily malleable that to change it was simpler and more natural to him than breathing. He’s masterful in the way it’s applied, diminishing a past life of shame and grit in place of high strung worth and superiority. He’d created himself with utter royalty, his own nobility evident by the way in which he moved, regally eloquent and unmistakably ethereal to anyone who crossed his path.

He builds his career on the sins he knows other’s desire. Selling crushed up aspirin as a party drug in the underbelly of the city’s night clubbing scene, using his power to make it seem as if it were the legitimate stuff and not something that cost him a couple bucks from the convenience store across the street. Lenox could make them see whatever he wanted, turn their evenings into a production of his own design and leave with none of the being any wiser. It’s how Benjamin Granger catches word of him, a supposed mutant that was living life as if he were a king. He’s the first person to ever acknowledge his capability, strikes him up an offer he couldn’t refuse. Drawn like a moth to a flame after the slightest suggestion of power and the infatuation that he was finally wanted by someone and to belong to something.

EXPANDED CONNECTIONS:

Chance Matthews: He’s the face he can’t erase from his mind, the curve of his lips engraved in deep fixations when he couldn’t fall asleep on a Sunday night. Perhaps it’s the fact that he shouldn’t do it that makes it more enticing, a lust to ignite underlying passion to unearth exactly what they had both been burying.

Jordan Rojas: Jordan is somewhat of a curiosity for Lenox to unpick. A closed book that is intriguing because of their close association together. Always keen to show his worth, to prove himself to those around him, perhaps it’s a dangerous combination should Jordan utalise the other’s naivety in combination of his powers in the way that Benjamin does.

Jack Mizuno: He likes that he can get so deep into their head, that he can have full control of a world that wasn’t Jack’s domain. It’s all to do with power and annoyance, a deep craving to see exactly how far he can push people before they hit their breaking point. Even then, it’s fun to flip that breaking point into a place of pure bliss and drop it again just when his subject is at ease. He’s like a lab rat, someone he tries his tricks on before taking them to the main show.

EXTRA: 

https://www.pinterest.co.uk/dean_ie/ariel/

Lenox spends a lot of his spare time writing and doodling. It’s all extremely sketchy, there’s never any sort of final draft. It helps his imagination, which is a much exercised tool in his life.

He is probably more invested in mental health than most. Meditation and yoga being a crucial part of his daily routine after a bowl full of sugar packed cereal.

He’s naive and eager to please anyone that might create a bond with him, he craves companionship after never really understanding it due to the absence of it in his life.

Lenox works as a part-time artist and painter, he’s guilty of using illusions to get clients to buy his art by playing into their preferences .

He also works as a drug dealer, never selling legitimate stuff but using over the counter medicines with the combination of his powers to masquerade as the real stuff.

He has an unruly sweet tooth. He keeps lollipops in his back pocket and will order dessert off a menu at a restaurant instead of a main meal. His favourite thing on the planet is warm cookie dough and ice cream.

He listens exclusively to Grunge music. Celebrity Skin by Hole is his absolute jam and he only ever sings Are You Gonna Be My Girl by Jet is his go to karaoke song.

Lenox is openly proud of his sexuality as a homosexual, though he’ll flirt with anyone and anything for the fun of it.

He prefers tea over coffee.

He’s a bit of a poetry dork, he collects first edition poetry books and his most prized possession is a first edition of Howl and Other Poems by Allen Ginsberg.

He’s very judgemental of how others present themselves and will tell you if your new shirt is ugly.

Lenox lives in a small apartment, anyone that enters he’s carefully to make them see it as 3 times bigger than it actually is with far more light.

He has a fear of heights.

[marksloan]

cristalcarrington’s icon tutorial!

a little treat for day 28 of my filmuary challenge!

i’ve honestly lost count of which one this is, but welcome to another icon tutorial! here i’m going to breaking down my icon creation process step by step. i currently am a mac user and all my previous tutorials have been windows orientated (which unfortunately were all lost in the great url loss of 2017). my process hasn’t changed much since then, but i have picked up quite a few new go-to tricks and i’ll be sharing these tips in this post!

anyway! here’s what you’ll need-

photoshop (i currently use photoshop cc so be aware that options and tools may not translate onto other programs/versions of ps) and yes, i do pay for my photoshop but if you’re in need of a decent, safe download i might be able to point you in the right direction so hmu

patience (believe me some of these icons have taken me a painfully long time to create) just don’t feel discouraged if things don’t work out perfectly right away!

a creative mind. please be aware that this tutorial is only for educational purposes. under no circumstance directly replicate my icons! the one involved in this tutorial is clearly fair game, but please try to take creative liberty with your work. what i’ve found a lot of fun is incorporating bits and pieces of what other people do into my own work.

further resources

if you need more reference/help, here’s an icon psd for you to have a look around while reading the tutorial or instead of the tutorial. again, please do not re-upload or redistribute.

please consider reblogging this if you’ve found it useful. or checking out my resources!

starting off

so today, i’m going to tackle a screencap for my ongoing filmuary challenge!

i tend to get my screencaps from google, so for this i literally just googled “mirror mirror screencaps” and selected a image from google images. when i’m not feeling lazy, i tend to go through the whole movie (great screencaps can be found at screencapped or kissthemgoodbye)

my first move is to open the screencap in the photoshop on it’s default canvas. the one i’ve chosen is normally the sort of screencap i’d go for-- one that has a central focus on the character and allows me to get a solid outline.

i tend to avoid screencaps that cut off the top of the characters head. i also tend to gravitate towards scenes that look easy to colour; if you choose overly saturated screencaps or screencaps that are too dark/light, then you will find it difficult to colour while conscious of the screencap quality.

base colouring

i then duplicate the screencap.

and then i set that duplicated layer to screen.

i like to make my icons super bright so i repeat this. it will vary depending on how dark the scene is. i prefer to do this to the screencaps as i find that it preserves the quality of the cap.

alternatively, you can use a psd-- my favourite as mentioned in previous tutorial is @blairsfelicity‘s icon psd which you can find in her tutorial here. my new method is just a whole lot lazier and i’ve been really enjoying the way my icons have turned out.

outlines

now here comes the menial part-- time for the outline.

remember to add a layer (unless you want to break your own heart by doing it directly onto the cap and being forced to start over (which i would NOT recommend by the way, crying over a screencap is as demoralising as it sounds)).

 i vary between using the pen tool and a brush/eraser for my backgrounds. i like to shake it up depending on what i feel like doing or what the screencap would best fit. it also completely depends on whether i’m feeling particularly lazy or not-- if i have time to burn, i’ll use a brush. if i’m in a rush, i’ll use the polygonal lasso tool and refine my selection area with masks.

in this tutorial (due to my boredom of doing things over and over, this beautiful filmuary) i’m opting for the brush method. but if you want me to talk through polygonal lasso process which is a lot quicker and really streamlines the process-- then feel free to drop me a message and i’ll be happy to make another talk through.

i like to use a brush for my erasing, on 30-50% hardness. i like to use a diffused/low hardness so my icon doesn’t look too sharp and the background and model seem to go with each other more. i’ll go for a small brush size when it comes to detailing (for example, when it comes to profiles, hair etc).

once i’ve outlined the model, i select the area around her with the magic wand tool and fill in the selected area with either a brush or a fill layer. then i merge the outline layer with the new colour layer.

(these two examples are from another icon process bc im dumb and forgot to take screenshots)

there will be a full little line around the model once you’ve merged the layers. i just tend to fill it in manually with a brush.

now here comes the fun part-- the colouring.

make those colours pop!

as you can see, the screencap has a lot of colours, but we need to make them pop. i take one of the colours, make a new layer and just paint until it’s vibrant and bold. once you’re happy with your colour selection, set the layer to soft light and adjust accordingly.

i tend to go for softer brushes when it comes to facial features. the lips, to make them a darker colour, i opt to set the layer style to multiply instead of soft light, and paint over the lip shape with a light pink/red.

i always like to highlight the eyes to aid contrast in the screencap. i also like to fill all eyebrows in with a black (set on soft light) as well as the lashline, just to add further dimension and contrast to the model.

prepping the icon

this is what my screencap looks like with the colouring complete. as you can see, each colour is on a separate layer. this is so i can adjust/duplicate each colour accordingly. once i’m happy, i place everything into a group together.

i make all of my icons on a 100x100px canvas. 

i like to edit the screencaps on their original canvas as it helps with the quality of the screencap as well as allowing me to outline accurately.

i just drag the files from one tab into another.

and then you can size it appropriately. 

my next step is to select the same colour as the background and to paint over the white strip at the top of the icon. i do this directly onto my outline and then merge the two together. you now have the foundations of your icon to build onto!

final touches in the colouring department

there is honestly no direction that i could give you when it comes to these final colouring steps. 

i like my icons to be very bright, so i target the contrast with levels and brightness/contrast layers. I like to also turn up the vibrancy to make the colours pop even more. 

my preference is for the skin to be very neutral, so i try to combat the saturation of the skin with colour balance and selective colour layers (as well as another step i will explain later in the tutorial)

as you can see above, i place the final colouring all underneath the background layer as this makes it easier for me to place textures later on. 

if you have problems with the model’s skin appearing too saturated, i’d recommend taking a solid fill layer of a black/white/grey and setting it to colour. place that layer just above the screencap and adjust it so it combats any saturation you might be experiencing.

textures and finishing touches!

clipping masks are honestly a god send for me. you can find them by right-clicking on the layers and selecting clipping masks. as you can see above, i use clipping masks to place a green texture on top of the icon’s background. i then layer above that by using further clipping masks, adding other textures and even layers to adjust the colouring of the background.

my favourite place to find textures are livejournal and deviantart-- soaked on livejournal is my go-to at the moment and i really enjoy evey-v’s icon textures. i also have my own resouces/textures that you can find here!

once i’m happy with how the icon looks, i copy all of the layers together and paste them under the background.

this is a super lazy way of sharpening the icon-- an alternative method is explained really well by @jennifergarner (aka the god of icons) on her icon faq page. i have used this in the past but after filmuary i’ve found a few little tricks.

i then just sharpen the icon and adjust the opacity of the sharpened layer depending on my preferences.

and then there we go---

my chosen export settings are just to go for PNG every time. this helps preserve the quality of the icon and help it look super clean and tidy for whoever wants to use it.

and with that, that’s a wrap up of my tutorial.

for other tips and tricks, here are some of my asks that i’ve responded to;

do you have any tips for cutting short/curly/messy hair?

hey, would you mind sharing a psd icon?

what are some of your favorite icons textures?

can you break down how to use different types of textures?

[serendipityseulgi]

soccer boy.

— lee jeno

･*:༅｡ the one where you fall for soccer player jeno.

aka, a really cute headcanon :)

so let’s make your best friend in this story our dearly beloved Mark Lee ™.

as your best friend he often tries to drag you to his soccer practices since soccer season has been coming up but you never rly got the chance to bc

p o i n t l e s s and b o r i n g

just kidding

you’ve just been super duper busy so you haven’t been able to attend

but AT LAST your schedule has finally freed and you get to see your bff in his element

so after school Mark’s dragging your arm onto the field and he’s all changed into his clothes and knee high socks with his new cleats that he made you buy with him

homeboi was so excited for soccer season

anywho

he’s dragging you on the field and all his teammates r giving him The Eyes ™ and the coach is all like

“Lee, is that ur girlfriend?”

and your eyes widened and he started fake gagging and you’re just about ready to scream

“EW NO WTF”

“no swearing, Lee.”

“sorry coach.”

but you’re literally retracting in disgust at the assumption bc

you love Mark more than anything yes, but he’s your bff and he’s just gross

anyways enough about Mark, let’s bring in Jeno.

so the moment you arrive on the field with Mark, Jeno instantly sees you

and he’s all **heart eyes**

he thinks you’re so pretty

and boom.

just like that,

he’s in love with you.

jk, not yet but he’s extremely interested in you and he's heard Mark talk about you a few times and from what he's gathered is that you’re super nice and smart and really funny and that you annoy Mark A LOT but that’s not important

so when Jeno sees you for the first time he literally loses his breath because what Mark failed to mention was that you were sO PRETTY

so you on the other hand are once again being dragged by Mark so he can introduce you to his teammates

you meet Jaemin and Donghyuck first, then Lucas, and a few other guys, but the last person you’re introduced to is Jeno

and when you meet Jeno

boom.

now YOU’RE the one in love.

and you notice his pretty eye smile, and his pretty face, and he has such a nice laugh

so there you go,

now you got a crush.

and if Mark finds out, then you’re in for hell of a shit show.

so you keep quiet and take a seat on the bleachers

now you promised Mark you’d come for him, which you did

but you couldn’t help but stare at Jeno

the whole time, might I add.

and you notice how .. freaking good he is??

see like i don’t know a lot about soccer but

this boy is scoring goals left and right

when he kicks the ball to pass it to another member it’s spot. on.

at a point he had to play in the position of the goalie and he managed to block every single damn goal???

HOW

you don't know

but what you do know is,

you're so impressed,, and it makes your heart go !!!!!

so about an hour and a half later the boys finish up and you go to meet Mark and he’s all like

“so how good was I doing?”

and you're all like “uhhhhh”

and he’s like

“you weren’t watching me were you.”

and you're like “I WAS AT FIRST.”

and he's not mad at all, because you've been to past practices before in the past many years you've been friends.

but he does question WHO you were watching because ..

if it wasn’t him then it was someone else on his team

you shrug it off and change subjects

but what you didn’t know what was that, while Jeno and Mark were taking breaks on the bench Jeno was asking so many questions about you

“Dude you didn’t tell me y/n was so pretty”

“Ew are you gross??”

“??”

“She's so ugly lmao.”

“Shut up she isn't.”

“Yikes.”

Mark is such a bitch but you know he's only teasing

anyways, he catches on to Jeno’s peaking interest in you

“You know, if you like her I can ask her about you.”

Jeno starts choking on his water as Mark starts patting his back.

“Wha- I don’t l-like her wha??t the ?? fuck ?? lmao stopnfnsns”

that’s enough indication that does in fact like you he's just too scared to admit it because he's only met you like .. half an hour ago and you guys talked for .. 30 seconds at most

anyways,

on the way home Mark starts asking you questions about Jeno and you're getting hecka nervous bc ???

he wasn't supposed to know so soon ??

“Mark why do you keep asking me about him, I met him like an hour ago.”

“I’m just wondering what your opinion is on the guy, am I not allowed to ask questions?”

“well for your information, you nosy fuck, he seems really sweet and he’s really cute.”

“ah, noted.”

“noted for what??”

“lmao did i say that out loud?? lol dwbi.”

so of course you started freaking out because Mark is about to expose your ass

“Mark don’t tell him oh my god, don’t ruin my life!!”

“RELAX. i’m not.”

and so to your better judgement you trust that your best friend will do as he says.

(( spoiler alert: he doesn't ))

so for the next few days you’re forced once again by Mark to attend soccer practices

in turn, Mark gasses you up to Jeno and he gasses Jeno up to you

to Jeno:

“so as much as i want y/n dead sometimes, she’s a really good best friend. she cooks for me, she takes care of me when i’m sick, she can be kinda strict but she’s also super fun to be around, she likes to drag me to different places to explore and she loves going to new restaurants and she especially loves getting ice cream or donuts at 2 in the morning and then sitting on the roof of her car to talk. see, if you date her you’re in for a fun ass adventure ;)))))”

to you:

“Jeno is very dedicated to soccer but this boi is hecka smart, so friendly, he really likes going out and having f u n and he also enjoys volunteering at that daycare next to our school bc he likes kids, and YOU like kids and wow, he’s amazing-”

“are you sure you don’t wanna date him Mark?”

“stfu and listen to me bitch, he is very nice as well so I KNOW for a damn fact that he’s gonna treat u really well. and you know how protective i get when guys try to talk to you, but clearly i like Jeno enough to let him date you.”

after that, you two were instantly sold for one another.

sO, it’s thursday right, and after a practice Jeno taps you on the shoulder and is like

“s-so I heard you um, liked, ice cream,, do you maybe wannacomewithmeandgetsome?”

and you nearly combust on the spot bc JENO JUST ESSENTIALLY ASKED YOU OUT

on the inside ur like!!@$@$#%!

but on the outside ur like, “ya sure why not.”

so you go to Mark and tell him you’re going with Jeno and Mark just winks at you and tells you to have fun and aLSO “DON’T FORGET OUR FIRST GAME TOMORROW” before pushing you off to go with ur soon to be man ;)

so Jeno can drive which means he has his own car and he opens the door for you and you get in and it smells so CLEAN AND FRESH

(stan a hygienic king)

he suddenly pulls off his shirt and you're like o_o

and he’s like “oH MY GOD IM SORRY. force of habit?? I always change in my car.”

and you’re like “DW IT’S OKAY” like really, you’re not complaining

but anyways, he relaxes because the last thing he wants is to already make you uncomfortable and he's relieved he hasn't royally screwed this up

so you two drive to your local ice cream place and this boi pays for you

you told him it was okay but he refused 

so you guys go outside and the sun is starting to set and he helps you onto the hood of his car and he sits beside you

you guys start to talk

you tell him some stuff about your childhood, what subjects you liked in school, how Mark became your best friend,

all that Good Stuff

and then he begins to tell you about himself

he loves science and gym

hates math (but doesn't everyone tho lol)

he’s really close with his parents and he thanks them everyday for getting him into soccer

“My dad would play soccer with me when I was like 4, everyday he would take me out onto the backyard and set up a small net and I would play with him for hours until my mom would call us in for dinner, and then my mom noticed how good I was and she signed me up for a team and I’ve been playing ever since. They always encouraged me to get scholarships and to do my best, but only to do it so long as I was happy. And I think that’s why I love it so much is because they always made me feel confident about it and always encouraged me but they never pressured me to continue if I didn’t want to.”

you melt on the spot

and he would tell you what kinds of things he enjoyed doing other than soccer, and he, similar to you, liked going to new places and going on adventures 

“we should make a bucket list and go on adventures together”

“really?”

“Mark might get a little jealous, but he’s always complaining, and I’ve spent too much of my life with him.”

Jeno laughed and your heart skipped a beat bc he has such a nice smile

“okay, we’ll make a bucket list.”

and so you do.

and now you have a whole list of things Jeno and you plan to do together.

you haven’t realized how many hours you’ve spent in the parking lot, laying beside each other on the hood of his car, your ice cream finished a long ass time ago

you check the time on your phone

it’s almost ten o’clock

you’ve spent nearly six hours with the kid, not that you’re complaining but you really need to get home bc school tomorrow

so he drives you home and you’re watching him

you realize right then and there that you’re in deep for the kid

when he drops you off you feel kinda sad but it’s okay bc he knows you’ll text him

“Thank you for tonight”

“Don’t thank me, I would do this again a million times.”

your heart? sNATCHED.

“You’re coming to the game tomorrow right?”

“Of course I am.”

“Good.”

he leans over and kisses you and you’re STUNNED

but you kiss back obviously and 

you’re kissing for a solid minute before he pulls away, and his eyes crinkle into that eye smile

“I’ll see you tomorrow beautiful.”

“see you tomorrow”

aND YOU’RE ABOUT TO COMBUST BC WOW

and you walk into your house with biggest grin on your face and you go to sleep so so so happy

sO IT’S FRIDAY the school is joining for their first soccer game

everyone’s hyped as fuck and you’re wearing your school colours.

you get front row seats bc ur special to now TWO boys on the team

before the game starts Jeno sees you

“okay, fun fact, i always do a lot better when you watch me during practice, so now you’re my good luck charm. oh and also, if we win this game, you're my girlfriend.”

and with that he runs off and you’re just O_O but again

you’re not complaining

so the game starts and

things are going rly well

but then Mark gets benched for nearly assaulting someone on the opposing side and Mark is one of the best players 

and a few of the other guys are benched to give the other players a chance in the game

you’re currently winning anyways so you don't worry too much

but then

no offence but now the sucky players are on

and now,

unfortunately, they’re losing by a lot

and you feel sad bc you know how hard these boys worked and also, Jeno’s words “if we win this game you’re my girlfriend”

sO DAMN YOU RLY WANT THEM TO WIN

they’re losing by a lot and you’re all in a slump and even tho the coach is starting to put back the better players they have a lot of catching up to do

it’s down to the last minute and you’re tied to the other team

you’re now feeling hopeless and everyone is on edge hoping for the best 

Mark is now put back on to play

he passes the ball to Jeno and Jeno iS DOING THE FUCKING MOST

and guess what??

HE SCORES THE LAST GOAL SO

Y’ALL WIN!!

and so you run down the bleachers and you’re screaming and you practically tackle Jeno to the ground but boi is strong as fuck so he catches you and you’re so glad he won that you just

KISS HIM in front of the whole school

and everyone’s like screaming too now

and you pull away and he’s like

“you’re my girlfriend now.”

and the last thing he cares about is how he score the winning goal, all he’s focused on is that YOU’RE HIS GIRLFRIEND NOW

so fast forward, you’re officially dating

you’re dedicated as fuck to going to every single soccer game, and as tradition, you, him and Mark will go out for ice cream or pizza

sidenote, Mark gets a girlfriend so y’all will double-date a lot but also when you and Jeno hang out alone Mark no longer complains that he’s being left out

you’re still BFFs with Mark tho,

after all, he is the reason why you and Jeno are together.

Jeno as a boyfriend is honestly the most amazing feeling. 

he is exactly how Mark described him to you, and after practices he’ll often take you to that daycare he volunteers at and you and him have a good ass time with the kids

one time he accidentally blurted out that he couldn’t wait to marry you and have kids of your own

of course he was embarrassed but you reassured him that you were perfectly fine with having that future

so he often talked about your future kids a lot

“-And our little boy or girl is going to be the next best soccer player. He or she will take after their mother’s good looks and their father’s amazing ball skills.”

you feel like your heart is going to burst

and Jeno will often take you out onto the field and try and get you to play soccer

you suck at it

but he enjoys spending time with you

and he’s so happy you’re wiling to do the things he loves

because yeah, soccer, and you (and school) are his biggest priorities

he begs his coach to make another jersey with his last name and number on it so you can wear it to his games

which you do

your coach lowkey loves you guys together so he does it

and Jeno forces you to take cute couple pictures with the jerseys and captions it something cheesy like “the two things i love” with your username and a soccer ball and heart emoji next to it

and Jeno has two soccer hoodies and he gives one to you because it smells like him and you LOVE the way he smells

and he loves the way you look in his oversized hoodie

OH and that bucket list you two made?

you complete every single one

and add more to it

every day is an adventure with him tbh

you two have so much fun

and you two have the best late night talks

you become each other’s lovers and best friends (shh don’t tell Mark)

you guys are so close

“All thanks to me fuckers” - Mark Lee, 2018.

Jeno loves you so damn much man

and you love him so much too

he makes you so happy

and you’re so glad that he came into your life

(thanks to Mark)