#on the bright side: tomorrow will be the part of bleaching my hair where there is a mm of brown hair and i feel like a barbie doll

[tap1rs]

every time i pass a mirror with my hair down i think about getting my hair cut in april and the lady asking me if i wanted layers. and me saying no i'm good. and now i just. feel like a dandelion. specifically the ones from dragontales, because i am currently very blonde and very fluffy

[wish-i-wasnt-a-coward]

Breaking the mirror

Janus is happier, Virgil helps, and the twins are still a raging homosexuals

Part 1, Part 2

Pairings: Roceit very background Intuality and Analogical 

Warnings: bleach, biting someones hair (idk man), potential second hand embarrassment 

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Janus stared at themself in the mirror. They looked better now, makeup on their eyes but birthmark uncovered. Their hair was curly and free and they wore a yellow button-down open over a shirt with snake facts. They looked a lot more like Janus, though traces of Damian seemed to cling to their thin face. 

Tomorrow they were going to get face and ear piercings with Remus and Roman. They were ridiculously excited. Virgil had jokingly suggested that they get snakebite piercings and, after finding out what that was, Janus had to get them.

Another big issue was their hair. The black locks were something the Mandax family prided themselves on, so of course, Janus hated it. They ran their fingers through the curls, Virgil might have some hair dye but would it show up on the black? Maybe they could just bleach it. 

“Oh virgilll” Janus sang, leaning against the doorway to Virgil’s room. The emo looked up annoyed, “what” he snapped. “I require some assistance, I want to bleach my hair and you have the hair dye. Help me?” they said examining their nails. “Yah sure, go get Patton, he wanted to dye his hair too, and meet me in the bathroom,” Virgil sighed pulling themself out of bed. Janus grinned and sauntered off to find their bubbly roommate.  

10 minutes later the three were situated in the bathroom, Virgil mixing a tub of light blue hair dye and Janus shaking a bottle of hair bleach. Patton was excitedly shimmying watching the two. Virgil turned around with a brush in hand. “K, Jan I trust you not to chemically burn us all. The door stays open for fumes and don’t get it in your eyes” Janus nodded, “Pat, you ready” Virgil asked laughing at the giggly boy who nodded vigorously, “alright, sit still”. With that, Virgil began brushing the blue gunk through Patton’s curly blond locks. 

Janus carefully opened the bottle and poured some into their gloved hand, it was far more liquid than expected and ran into the tub instantaneously. Giving up that idea Janus tilted their head back and poured a part of the bottle on their hair, rubbing it in. After around half the bottle was gone they reached for a plastic bag and wrapped their hair in it. 

Patton stifled his giggles, “what!” Janus questioned indignantly, “you look really silly” Patton giggled. Janus scoffed, “you’re one to talk,” they said pointing to the blue gunk covering most of their hair. Virgil smiled, their attention not wavering, “hair dye is a process, it looks ridiculous at first but you gotta trust the process” Virgil stepped back, “alright pat, I think you’re good to go” Patton grabbed a plastic bag, “35 minutes right?”, “right”

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Patton’s hair, now washed and dried, was a bright blue that suited Patton perfectly. It reminded Janus of cotton candy. Remus was going to put it in his mouth at some point, it was inevitable. But it did look really good. Janus carefully pulled off the plastic bag keeping their eyes closed to keep the bleach out. They put down the bag, took a breath, and opened their eyes. Their hair was blond. The teen felt giddy, they looked so different! They rushed through the washing process, drying it thoroughly, and looked at it again. 

It was fluffy and curly and blond!!! They looked at their face carefully, this is who they were. The traces of Damian were gone, only Janus and a mop of yellow gold hair left behind. Janus laughed running their fingers through the platinum hair, they loved it. 

There was a knock on the door, “you good in their lord of the lies?” Virgil checked, “yep,” Janus choked out, “I’m good”. They took a moment to compose themself and swung open the door dramatically. 

Patton was instantly on them, “OH MY GOSH ITS SO FLUFFY!!!!!” he said, reaching up to mess with Janus’s hair. Janus grinned, ruffling Patton’s hair as well, “yours looks like cotton candy,” they said grinning. A gasp was heard from the couch, “OH MY FUCKING GOD IT DOES!!!! Babe, can I eat your hair!!!” Remus called from the back of the room. 

“This is bullying, you knew that would happen” Patton wined at Janus as Remus scooped him. “You’re my little candy puff!!! Nom” Remus said, biting Patton’s hair. Patton giggled and pushed his head away. “No!!”. Janus moved on, as cute as they were they did not need to vomit on their new shoes. 

They flopped onto their bed, Virgil complimented their hair on their way back to his room, leaving them alone to take a nap. Janus stretched out on the bed and closed their eyes, they were safe. 

When they opened their eyes again light streamed through the windows. Janus blinked the sleep from their eyes and sat up, looks like they had missed dinner. Sadly, Patton had made perogies. They pulled themself up and stumbled to the kitchen where a surprised Roman sat eating toast. “You changed your hair!” Janus nodded, too tired to respond. “Looks good,” Roman said, blushing furiously. Janus just nodded again, shaking their head to clear it, “thanks, Verge helped yesterday” They mumbled. Pouring themself coffee. The two sat in silence for a minute as Janus woke up. 

“So, uh I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” Roman said, still blushing, “about the, um, the kiss”. Janus pushed down the worry creeping up in their throat, “yeah?” they said as smoothly as they could. “I don’t want to assume anything, but I don’t want that to be a one-time thing. And… I would like to, maybe, if you wanted, to go on a date?” Roman stared at the cup of tea in his hands, his face was flushed and he was shaking a tiny bit. Janus nudged his side, “I don’t want it to be a one-time thing either” Roman looked into Janus’s yellow eyes, “And I would love to go on a date with you”

Roman ginned, pulling Janus into a hug. “I’m glad,” he mumbled. Janus just laughed and pulled his face up. The two stood barely inches apart before Roman muttered, “you’re so… beautiful Janus” the person in his arms flushed, “just shut up and kiss me”

[plush-rabbit]

Burnt

Warnings: Non-con

Word Count: 2.4K

A/N: I wanted to try writing Dabi¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (doesn’t have much dialogue so fuck me i guess and my ambitions lol)

You enter your home and it reeks of bleach and a faint stench of smoke- any energy left in you is suddenly depleted and you grip the strap of your bag tight, lips pulling down into a frown and the tinge of a headache already appearing. The smell is strong, making you cover your nose and eyes burn- an awful combination of two things and even with the bleach, you can tell it’s a poor excuse of a cleaning job- something that you really aren’t surprised about but still find yourself annoyed at. 

You enter the kitchen and see a figure leaning against the sink. The smell here is the worst and it makes you gag in disgust. Eyes watering and a churning in your stomach as you can only manage to take one step into the area.

“You’re home late.” Slender fingers hold an unlit cigarette in hand and bright blue eyes glance at you. “Sorry about the smell.”

“What the fuck did you do?” Your voice is nasally as you pinch your nose tighter. “Smells like the fucking hospital and burnt-” your eyes widen and scowl deepens- “I swear, if you committed any of your little-”

“I’m not stupid-” pink flahes and runs over the bottom of his lip- “I tried cooking and it got all burnt.”

“And the bleach?” 

“Wow, you really don’t believe me.”

“Dabi-”

He puts his arms up and the cigarette falls from his fingers and lands quietly on the floor. “Sheesh. I tried cleaning. Sorry for trying to help.” He sounds irritated and a bit of skin is emitting a faint wisp of smoke.

“You never help.” Your eyes narrow and scan him. “What did you do?”

He sighs and dips his head before raising it and giving you a shrug. He walks towards you- shoes still on and leaving a trace of dirt behind. “The less you know, the better- isn’t that right?” He leans towards your face and he has a sly grin on him, his eyes widening in amusement. “You’re the one who said that. Don’t tell me you forgot?”

The hand that doesn’t hold your nose comes to his chest and you push yourself away from him, fingers grazing at the untouched skin that he has yet to make a scar of. “Open a window. It smells like death.” You turn on your heel and hear him scoff in amusement. You hold on tighter to your bag and you walk to your room, locking the door behind you, making sure that the slamming of said door can be heard throughout the home.

-

You’re in bed fast asleep. The rest of your day gone by silently- the majority spent in your room as you tried to forget the stench that invaded your home and you- one that only left after you lit a candle and opened your window. You’re underneath a blanket, and you look at bliss. The first time since you’ve entered through the front door and in sleep, you miss the way the door clicks open and a figure walks and gets into bed with you, lifting the blanket off your body and hands replacing where the fabric rested. 

They’re warm- warmer than most people and the staples have warmed to his temperature and in your sleep you flinch away from him. He tuts his tongue in annoyance and lets his hands continue to roam your body. He soon grows bored with the lack of attention and gives a firm pat to your face, tilting his head when your brows furrow in annoyance. His lips are on your unresponsive ones, sucking your bottom lip between his lips and letting his teeth press gently and pull on it, letting it go and watching as your tongue peeks out in a poor attempt to soothe over the blossoming red lip. He doesn’t know how long he’s on top of you for, how long he spends, letting his hand roll over your breast and let his fingers pinch at your hardened buds, rubbing his crotch on your thigh, trying to feel an ounce of pleasure from the friction. 

You start to mumble in your sleep, your legs jerking ever so slightly and he whispers your name, shaking you awake and he pulls his crotch away from you, palming himself through the fabric of his briefs. 

A small yawn escapes past your lip and you hum in response to being called. He calls your name again and you call out his name in a breathy whisper. 

“Yeah, it’s me doll.” His tongue swipes at your neck, hand slowly slipping out from under your shirt, nipples poking through the fabric of your shirt.

“How did you get in?” You mumble sleepily, eyes fluttering open but ultimately going back to being shut.

“It’s a simple lock. Anyone can get in.” His hand continues to run up your thigh and you whine in your sleep, jerking your leg in an attempt to shake him off. “Do you wanna know what I did?” His lips ghost over the shell of your ear and his hand rises past your hips and under your shirt. “In your kitchen I mean.”

“Thought you said you cooked and cleaned.” You peer up at him through your eyelashes and end up closing them again when you find him already looking intently at you. 

“I lied,” he whispers, breath hot against your face. His hand cups your chest and you furrow your brows, your own hand coming up to swipe him away. “Got a bit too sloppy on something and led them back here.” His hand leaves your chest and he twirls a strand of your hair around his finger. “Took care of it though.”

“You-” 

“Not the first time I’ve done it.” His lips drag over your face and he brings your leg to hook around his. “You know that. You’re the one who allowed me to stay even after finding out who I was.” 

“Dabi,” you try to push him off, sleep still calling out to you, “I’m not in the mood right now,” your speech slurs and your arms fall limply to your side.

“I’m in the mood.” His lips are on yours, tongue pushing past your lips and making claim in your mouth. His hips rutting into yours and a hand pulling your shorts to the side. “Come on. I promise to make it worth your while.”

You smirk against his lips and shake your head. “You always say the same thing.” Your smile falls. “I’m tired. I have things to do tomorrow.”

“I’m finally home and you want to leave me?”

“Stop it. I-” he turns your head to the side and his lips drag from your chin to your earlobe. “Dabi, I’m serious-” you narrow your eyes at him when his fingers are dangerously close to the edge of your underwear- “stop.”

“I’m hard.” He grabs your hand and makes you cup him. “Got this hard from a little kiss. Come on.” He leaves wet kisses on the curve of your neck, suctioning a bit and letting his tongue circle where he kissed you. 

Your hand is between your sex and his member- you’re warm and you’re unsure if that’s because your body is responding to him or if his own body heat made you hot. He ruts in your hand, hissing between teeth when your hand tightens around him. His teeth nip at your shoulder, and you turn your head to where his rests.

“Dabi. Seriously, just jerk off to a nude or something.” Your hand leaves his member and you try to turn your body, choosing sleep over his company. His hand stops you, finger pads pressing deep in your skin and forcing you to stay in your position. “I’m tired.” His fingers slip past your underwear and you make a disapproving noise in the back of your throat. You repeat your sentence, grabbing at the damaged skin on his arm.

“For fucks sake,” he mutters under his breath. “Just go to sleep then,” he says out loud. “Let me get my dick wet.”

“I’m not wet,” you protest, opening your eyes and your vision goes blurry when you yawn, tears filling your eyes and disappearing as quick as they came. “Just jerk off.”

“I’ll get you wet.” 

Before you can open your mouth, his index and middle finger push into you. A low moan sounds in the back of your throat and he takes that as encouragement. They move slowly inside of you, pushing at your walls, feeling them squish under his touch and his other hand grabs at your face and you stare at him through heavy eyelids, sleep still clouding your mind. He makes you look at him as his fingers are deep in you. It’s tight- you weren’t ready for him- and only droplets of your slick coat his fingers. But he takes his time with you, eyes devoid of any emotion while he works you up. He’s gentle, tongue peeking through his lips and your eyes scan his face, trying to find a hint at what he’s thinking. His digits circle inside of you, curling and urging more of your arousal out and soon he’s pumping his fingers in and out of you, lewd clicking noises filling the room while you breathe harshly through your nose, face burning in desire.

“Tell me you want it,” he whispers, eyes glancing to your lips. “I want to hear you beg for it.”

Your eyes widen and then fall to a tired expression. “You’re an asshole,” you manage to say between smooshed lips. “I didn’t want this and even if I did, I can get myself off.”

His eyes narrow at you and he pulls his fingers out of you and brings the wet digits between both of our faces, arousal making his fingers crinkle and shine. He glances at his fingers and then back at you and with your mouth already parted open, he shoves his fingers inside of your mouth, and drags them roughly on your tongue.

You gasp around his digits and he only shoves his hand farther down your mouth, fingers curving over your tongue and threatening to go down your throat. When your teeth make contact, his hand warms and you loosen your jaw. Your eyes burn with tears of discomfort and your body goes rigid. His name is muffled in your mouth and your hands wrap around his hand, trying to pry him out of you only for him to shove his fingers farther down. You gag around him, choke on him while the taste of your arousal fills your mouth, your hands loosening around him and bunching your shirt when the threat of bile rising becomes all too real.

He inches his digits closer to the opening of your mouth, the threat of sickness fading slowly but the tears still lingering and clinging to your eyelashes. You breath harshly through your nose and watch him with scared eyes.

“I’m giving you the choice to sleep with me,” his fingers press down on your tongue and they become warm, “you got that right? So are you going to sleep with me or do I have to convince you?” He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, drool sliding down his fingers. “Answer.”

You swallow the tightness in your throat and blink away the tears. “Please Dabi. I’m so wet,” your voice croaks and you clear your throat. “Touch me Dabi, please. I want it so bad.” Your words are quiet, a ghost of a whisper and you wait for him to answer with your bottom lip rolled between your teeth.

You flinch when he fingers pick at your shirt and wipe the drool off on it. “Good girl,” he mutters, pecking your forehead. “Wasn’t that hard, now was it?”

You shake your head in response and close your eyes when his lips meet yours. You shiver when his tongue moves past your lips and into your mouth. He’s heavy on top of you, running his hands through your hair, parting the tendrils and letting his fingers graze you softly, and leaving your hair and slipping towards your side and running his hand over your stomach. 

“Dabi,” you mutter against his lips, “condom.”

His eyes open slowly and he pulls away from you. He gives you a small smile, lips upturning and he tilts his head. His smile is soft and then shifts into haughty. “I don’t feel like wearing one tonight.” His kisses are fleeting as they move down your neck, pressing against the collar of your shirt and soon your clothes are tossed to the side, rough hands rolling your breasts in each. His cockhead hits at your inner thighs, leaving a sticky residue behind, trailing slowly down the curve of your thigh and into your mattress. 

Your take in a sharp inhale when he pushes his length inside of you, closing your eyes and your fingers tap against the bedsheets in a nervous tic. He moves slowly, rocking his hips in and out of you, eyes shut tightly as he looms above you, tongue coming out to swipe his lips. He breathes heavy, breath fanning out in wisps and his body begins to burn. He’s always  been hot- no doubt thanks to his quirk- and when you had first begun your relationship, you cherished it, leaning against him and calling him your own heater. Yet, now, as he turns hot, heat intensifies from deep within him and it's too much- uncomfortable and making you sweat under him as he mouths curses under his breath.

It wasn’t always like this- the odd touches that left a print, the fierce kisses that dripped with lust and need rather than playfulness and smugness, the threats that become more vocal as time went on. It was fun at first- a wild experience that you got to keep as a secret- knowing that you had sex with a criminal who kept coming back for more because you were “irresistible”. 

“I love you,” he mumbles, placing a kiss on your still lips. 

Tears make your vision blurry, droplet that aren’t enough to flood over and spill down your cheeks, they burn and there’s a tightness in your throat that matches the burning sensations, something painful and lumpy and you wonder if this is the new norm for you- to be awaken in the middle of the night and have a former friend threaten you into consent. He’s right- you allowed him to stay even after you found out who he was; you really have no one to blame but yourself and now here in your bed, blanket pushed to the side as a tear finally manages to slide down. 

“I love you too Dabi,” you whisper in a shaky breath.

[forthehpfanboys]

Tough Hufflepuff

Pair: Hermione Granger x Reader; he/him.

Summary: Reader is a shy bean who is willing to teach the DA for Harry and everyone and ends up falling for a specific witch in doing so. He ends up winning her after a fight with a specific bleached ferret.

Warnings: Fighting, Swearing, Cedric would be proud. Accidentally made Ron and Harry a little gay, but ya know.

Notes: Requested! I absolutely love this idea!! 👏 Sorry for spelling errors, I typed this on my phone and my keyboard is lowkey garbage??

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~

-

No one was exactly surprised when you walked into the Room of Requirement and quietly shuffled over to the group of students circling the Boy-Who-Lived. No one ever really paid any attention to you besides your fellow Huffle-friends, so you were used to the few students who glanced at you but didn’t utter a word. You felt like you were the only one there sporting the yellow robes.

You had been invited by Harry about a week ago to join Dumbledore’s Army but something always stopped you when you tried to go. Nothing physical. A lot of it was just mental stuff holdning yo back. Harry noticed how well you’d done in Charms and that’s when you caught his eye. He noted you had something akin to pure talent.

He asked Ron and Hermione if they knew anything about the (h/c) boy in the Charms class and all they could chalk up was your name and how, with friends, you would be loud and boisterous, but around strangers quieter than a mouse. 

The trio ended up asking your friends about you and shared a few stories, like the time Umbrige gave you detention for helping a first year Ravenclaw with her books. You’d gotten detention for standing too close to the girl. Umbridge deemed it ‘inappropriate’ and you almost threw hands for her to catch. 

"Oh, (Y/n)! I'm so glad you took up my offer!"

Your eyes snapped up at the voice calling your name and you looked up to see him smiling at you, Ron and Hermione at his side like usual. Suddenly everyone's eyes were on you. You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks and you looked down at your shoes. You fiddled with the edge of your robs sleeve, your throat becoming tight as you finally found the courage to speak. 

"Uh, oh.. Yeah, um.. No problem" your voice barely carried across the room. The raven haired boy to smile and nod and bring the attention back to himself, he continued on. He knew you didn’t love holding everyone's attention. The gryffindor wasn’t exactly thinking.

"Ok! So today, we're going to practice whatever we’ve-”

You stopped listening. You were trying to will your heart to slow down. See, you struggled in social citations and didn’t exactly know why. All your friends said you were outgoing and strong and awesome, but once you met new people, you were shy and scared to say the wrong things. Most people said that’s why you're a Hufflepuff, but you and literally every other Hufflepuff knew better than that. You jerked your head up when someone spoke your name. 

“(Y/n)?” Harry was standing in front of you with Hermione by his side. Your eyes drifted between the two and you gave a shy wave, your head down some. She casted you a smile and waved. “I’m really grateful you took my proposition. It really means a lot."

You didn't understand why it meant anything to him but you flashed him a polite smile and whipped your hands on your uniform. 

"O-oh, um.. Your welcome?" Your voice was shaky with uncertainty. You didn't miss how Hermione nudged Harry in the arm, as if to tell him to keep going. 

"We uh.. Well, we were actually hoping you could help us with teaching some specific charms." 

Wait, what?

"I noticed how talented you are with charms and-" 

His voice faded like an echo in a tunnel. The Golden Trio not only asked for your help, but noticed you! Why would the Trio need a simple, nervous, stumbly Hufflepuff to teach infront of- how many are there- 30 some kids when they literally have Harry Fucking Potter.

"What?" you asked, not noticing how you interrupted Harry's tangent. The raven haired male turned to his best witch buddy before looking back at you. 

"We want your help. Neville and some others are struggling with charms and we need someone like you to help." Hermione finally spoke up, her eyes filled with sympathy as she examined you. "Everyone has noticed how talented you are, (Y/n)." 

"Talen- Me? No!" You said it louder than you intended, causing some students to look at you. "I-I-I mean, um, I.. I don't- do good with.. With crowds or people or words-" You rubbed your arm subconsciously and looked back down at your sneakers. 

Hermione stepped closer and put a hand on your shoulder. You titled your head to look at her hand, your eyes trailed up her arm before finally landing on her eyes. 

Oh fuck-

Now was not the time to catch feelings. 

"You're very talented, (Y/n). Whether you believe it or not." She smiled at you and went on. "So, if you want to help us, we'd really appreciate it." 

Oh fuck, you arealdy got feelings, it was the fucking smile. You'd always admired her from a far, finding her absolutely breathtakingly beautiful. Oh fuck. 

"yEAh-" your voice broke horribly. "I mean- um yeah, I'... I'll do it!" you wanted to say you didn't know why you said it, but you knew. 

Her beautiful smile only grew as she thanked you and hurried off to find Ron and tell him the news. 

Your heart not only started frantically pounding in your chest, but it dropped to your stomach when you saw the redhead and the brunette interact. 

Harry asked if you wanted to meet at the Room of Requirement tomorrow a few hours before the DA showed up to go over techniques and how to approach teaching a bunch of people Charms that you'd managed to nail almost first try.

The next day you showed up early. Kinda. You showed up to the hidden room, got anxious, walked out, walked back in, got anxious, paced the hallway, debated, went back in. Godric where you a mess. You chewed on your nails as you paced inside the room, a habit you picked up around 2nd year.

Just when you were debating on leaving and never showing your face again, someone had tapped your shoulder. You whipped around fast enough the Golden Trio thought your head would spin a full 360.

Your face turned bright red when you saw they were here and rubbed a hand down your hair, apologizing. The three shrugged off your apology and you quickly began planning the lesson with them. 

About an hour later, the room was once again filled with bustling students and you stood in front of them. Even with Harry, Ron and 'Mione by your side, your hands were shaking and your heart was pounding. 

Everyone stared at you, expecting you to speak up or move or something, but you stayed frozen and pale in the face. 

"Alright." Hermione stepped forward to be the first to speak, giving you time to breath and gather yourself. "(Y/n) has graciously agreed to help us with some charms so if anyone is struggling with a particular one, just shout it out and we'll show and give you some tips." 

"I'm still struggling with expelliarmus." Neville spoke in a soft voice, his hand shyly in the air. This kinda snapped you out of your panicked state, but not by much. "I don't know if it's because of how I'm holding my wand or if I'm doing the motion wrong, I just- I can't get it and it's driving me bonkers." 

"W-Well how are you holding it?" you hesitated but walked over to him. He showed you how he was performing the spell. "Tighten your grip a little, yeah. Like that. Now don't be shy," like you could talk, "and just be sturdy." you casted him a smile. 

With a nod, the kid oozing anxiety walked over to the dummy, got in the same stance, took your advice and casted the spell. First time, it didn't work, but with some reassurance from you, he nailed it on the second one. 

The spell was powerful enough to cause the wand to go flying from the grip of the stone dummy and Neville managed to catch it easily. The room literally erupted in roars and happy cheers and you could feel some confidence growing in your chest. Neville thanked you and, suddenly, everyone was asking for help. 

You did your best to help everyone with everything, even the troublesome Weasley Twins. One of the mischief creators struggled with the patronus charm, but after chatting about some old memories, he managed to find one that was solid and joyful enough that it worked, leading to a loud thank you and a promise to never, ever, ever, ever prank you. Bless Godric, to be honest. 

You helped out Cho Chang with her concentration spells, giving her advice on how to better her concentration in the first place. 

Hell, you even helped Hermione with a spell you didn't know she was struggling with, which is what you were doing right now. You were standing beside her, rolling up the sleeves of your white shirt. The room had grown way to hot in the past few minutes, or maybe it was standing beside her. 

Hermione, meanwhile, was trying to focus on the spell and the ginger standing across from her. You had been running through her mind all day and she had no idea why, but the sight of your forearms gave her a hint. 

She loosened the grip on her wand and adjusted her stance. "Is this right?" She turned to you, blushing when you looked her up and down. 

"For the most part." You spoke. "Um, may I?" You put your hands on her hips and moved them ever so slightly to the right. "There ya go! Better if your foot and hop aim at the target. Gives you a better chance." You didn't notice the blush on her cheeks or the groan from Ron across the room. 

She was a little disappointed when you wondered away, going to help a young Gryffindor with his spell. 

"Blimey, it's worse than I thought." Ron spoke, causing Hermione to glare at him and cast Stupefy, sending him a few feet back with an embarrassing yell. The brunette simply smirked and walked away from him. 

Once Harry dismissed the class, you waved to some of the students who waved back and stayed behind with the Golden Trio. 

"That was bloody brilliant, (Y/n)!" Ron all but yelled at you, his hands stuffed in his pockets. A huge grin was stretched across his freckle covered face, causing you to smile back. 

"Oh, please. It was nothing." 

"You helped (imma just fricken guess but if anyone knows which one, please tell me, please-) Fred with his patronous! Are you kidding? That's bloody genius!" the ginger walked over and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, causing you to smile wider. 

"Really?" 

"Yes, really!" Hermione was playing with some of her hair when she spoke up. "You've helped everyone so much." 

"I told you he'd be useful." Harry spoke up, looking at Hermione, a cheeky grin on his face. 

"Hey! I never said he wouldn't be helpful!" She looked at him, her hands landing on her hips. 

"Girls! Girls, please. You're both pretty, can we bloody go now? I wanna go eat my troubles away." Ron spoke up, rolling his eyes and basically dragged you to the exit. 

"If I'm a girl, then what does that make you, Ron?" Harry spoke up, scurrying after the pair. 

"The bloke of your dreams, now shut it and walk." Ron teased, grabbing Harry's shirt and pushing him forward. Hermione let out a snort. 

"Oh, please, Ron. The only girl who has you in her dreams is Lavender." she stood on the side not occupied by Ron and smiled at you. 

"Oh, Godric, not this again." Ron groaned playfully. You smiled as the banter continued. You had more friends! At least, you hoped they were your friends.

Not too long after you left the Room of Requirement, you four made it to the dinning hall. You said goodbye to the three friends before making your way to the Hufflepuff table. 

Once you found their table, you basically dove into the empty seat, shooting Bones and Finch-Fletchey a cheeky smile. 

"How are my favorite besties doin'?" you wrapped your arms around their shoulders, causing Susan to giggle and for Justin to roll his eyes. 

"We're your only best friends-" Susan spoke up. 

"Ah, not anymore. We have computation, Bonesy. Word has it (Y/n/n) here has found a new bunch of friends!" Justin smirked at you. 

"Well, I might be meeting people, but they don't compare to my besties, now do they?" You chuckled, letting them go to fill your plate high with food. The three of you continued on with playful bangers and you told them stories, quietly, about the inside of the DA. They even said they'd join, which caused you to gleam happily.

After a long day of teacher, you were hungrier than a dragon after hibernation. You were also quite mentally tired. You didn't realize how much effort went into teaching, and now you were almost sorry for Snape. 

Almost. 

Once dinner was over, you and your two good friends walked down the corridor, advancing toward the Hufflepuff common room. Just before you could enter you froze, hearing a word you considered to be unforgivable. 

"Stupid mudblood! When will you learn that you're beneath us?" You turned around, instantly recognizing the voice. "My father will hear of this. You should've been fed to a pack of rabid wolves." 

Draco. Draco was yelling at Hermione while Crabbe and Goyle stood between Ron and Harry, separating the usual trip.

Fucking Draco. Of course!

"Oi, Malfoy!" you called out before your brain even caught up with your mouth. "Why don't you bugger off, yeah?" You began to stride over to the group, ignoring the calls of your friends.

"Who are you?" Draco spoke, looking you up and down. Dweedle Dee and Dweedle Dum let out an obnoxious laugh. "A Hufflepuff? Shouldn't you be collecting flowers or minding your businesses?" 

"Shouldn't you be leaving Hermione alone, stop acting like a child and actually grow a pair?" You shot back, your hands balling into fists by your side. 

Draco sneered at the words coming out to your mouth, his eyebrows furrowing. 

"How dare you!" He adjusted his uniform robes, as if he was some sort of badass. "Watch your silver tongue, boy, or it'll cost you!" 

"I'm the same age as you, idiot!" You almost wanted to puff up your chest like a dragon, show dominance, fight the blonde ferret and win. "And besides, you're a hundred percent bark and zero percent bite!" 

Suddenly, Malfoy was grabbing at your yellow and black robs, pulling you against his chest. 

"I said watch it! I'm a Malfoy first and you will respect me as such." 

"Like hell I will! A word doesn't earn you respect, it's your fucking actions that do!" before you thought of a better solution to bring distance between the two of you, you brought your knee up to collide with his stomach.  The blonde hunched over and gasp out a groan, his arms wrapping around his wounded abdomen. "You don't deserve respect if you pick on people. You don't deserve respect if you work for that, that toad in pink drag and you certainly won't get any of it from me." 

Crabbe and Goyle looked from their boss up to you, noticing you walk toward them with a fire in your eyes caused them to take off, the blonde following and stumbling beside them.

"Remember this day when you go to mess with anyone from any house again, Malfoy! This is just strike fucking one!" you yelled down the hall, definitely shocking the people around you. 

Hell, you managed to shock the entire corridor. Your friends, the Golden Trio, the people passing through. You turned toward said trio, the fire in your eyes replaced with concern. 

"Are you ok? He didn't touch you did he?" Impulses seemed to be taking over because as you asked the question, you cupped the brunette's cheeks and checked her for any and all injuries. 

"(Y/n), I'm fine." She stammered out. Her cheeks were heating up beneath your hands, not that you noticed, you were staring into her eyes. God damn it, those pretty fucking eyes-

"Blood fucking hell, (L/n)! That was- oh my Godric- I'd pay to see you do that again!" Ron was basically jumping up and down. It was so, so nice to see Draco get knocked down a peg like that. 

"Yeah, (Y/n/n)!" Harry spoke up, a soft chuckle leaving his lips as his hands shoved into his pockets. "Didn't think you had that in you."

"Hufflepuff’s are very loyal. We'd die for our friends in a heart beat." You spoke to him, your hands still on her cheeks and your (e/c) eyes still staring into hers. 

"Friends, huh?" Ron spoke out, a shit eating grin on his face. "Well, Harry, maybe we should leave our, ahem, friends to have a nice chat with each other, shall we?" the redhead held out his elbow for the raven haired make to take. 

"Why yes, Ron. I do believe that would be the wisest decisions. How about some wizard chess, hmm?" Harry wrapped his arm around Ron's extended one and the duo went off, laughing as they walked deeper into the corridor. 

You didn't even notice they left. You were busy. You were really busy. Hermione's hands had come up to gently hold your wrists, one of her thumbs rubbing over the vein of your wrist.

"I-" you spoke at the same time, this caused her to release a high pitched giggle and for you to blush. 

"I-I'm sorry, you first." 

"Forever the gentleman?" Another adorable giggle and more blush. 

"Have to be. Mom would bury me alive if I wasn't." 

You two stood in silence once more. You both knew words didn't need to be exchanged. They didn't have to be. You could read her eyes like a book and you couldn't stop turning the pages. 

She took a step toward you, and you met her in the middle. Your hands come down to her shoulders, rubbing them gently as you smiled, your head titling to the side. 

"Can I kiss you?" Your voice was barely above a whisper, your shyness coming back. It made her want to melt into a puddle of mush on the floor. This didn't feel real to her. It felt like a dream or a fairy tale. 

She nodded her head, bringing her hands up to your biceps as she pressed her lips to yours. Your eyes fluttered shut as you pushed your lips against hers. 

You felt actual fireworks going off against your lips and it was addicting. You pressed your body against hers, your hands falling to her hips as you held her close. Her arms came up to wrap around your neck, one of her legs lifting up behind her, like in those romance movies her father loved so much. 

Once you needed air, you two parted, chests rising and falling quite quickly. It surprised you. The kiss felt like it lasted for an hour. 

"So.. Can I call you my knight in shining armor?" she giggled, her hand coming up to play with your hair. 

"Wow. I actually love that!" 

She let out a snort and pressed her forehead against yours. You were so excited that, it made the brunette smile wider, her heart pounding in her chest. 

"Godric, you're perfect." 

"No, I'm not. I'm (Y/n)." 

"Ok, keep that up and I'm not kissing you again." 

"I'm sorry, please kiss me again." 

Hermione giggled and shook her head. 

"You sound like a kid during Christmas." 

"And we're still talking instead of snogging. Everything is shocking right now." 

"When did you gain Gryffindor courage?" 

"When I became your Tough Hufflepuff." you did some fancy dance move and dunked her, causing her to squeal. You cut the squeal off with a kiss.

You didn't want that Umbitch to find you snogging the girl of your dreams while your friends cheered you on. Last thing you needed was a stupid detention for falling in love.

[prfctparis]

Red Jell-O and A Trip to the Healers

AO3 Link

summary: in which mace windu spends part of night with two of the most stubborn kids in the jedi order. if he had any hair, they might make him go gray within the hour.

a/n: ok so basically, lately my mind has been super duper focused on my star wars au (which exists solely in my head right now) where anakin doesn’t turn to the dark side mostly bc he has a little sister (aka my oc zariza) and other factors, and instead of rambling about that for paragraphs on end i’ll just say: this is a drabble/one shot thing that takes place in that au, but years before the clone wars begins. if you’re curious, and if i did my math right, anakin is 14 here and zariza is 10. but yeah, hope u enjoy reading this!

Master Jedi Mace Windu stares at the young girl with a carefully blank expression. The youngling – an initiate, no older than ten, if he remembers correctly – stares back, almost as if she is daring him to say something, which… Doesn’t surprise him. Not in the slightest. This is Skywalker Number Two, after all, and even though she is much quieter than her older brother, she no doubt causes as much mayhem as he does.

He just wants a snack. He ran out of them in his own quarters. Looking at the young girl, something tells him he won’t be getting the snack.

Mace refrains from sighing.

This is not how he thought his night was going to go.

“Initiate Skywalker,” he begins, hoping it comes off as a greeting than a silent reprimand. “What a coincidence it is seeing you here.”

Her dark eyes narrow the slightest bit. The expression simultaneously looks like Anakin yet nothing like him at all.

Honestly, though he is loath to admit it, sometimes he forgets the two are brother and sister. After all, they hardly look anything alike – different fathers, he remembers Master Healer Che explain to him and the Council members when they were wondering if they were actually related. Anakin has blond hair that is bleached light from his years on Tatooine yet now is slowly darkening with age, and bright blue eyes and tanned, fair skin, whereas his sister has wild and wavy dark brown hair that almost looks black with eyes to match, and light brown skin. She also has abnormally sharp canines for a human – no doubt a hint at whatever type of alien race that is in her blood; they have yet been able to figure it out.

They both do that damn stubborn chin tilt thing, though.

It can be…aggravating, to say the least, when someone is trying to get them to do something and they don’t want to.

Mace gives into sighing when she doesn’t budge. “Zariza,” he tries again, “what are you doing? It is midnight.”

The stubborn chin tilt stays. Kriff. “I could ask you the same thing,” she says.

“You should be sleeping.”

“…So should you.”

“Skywalker.”

“Window.”

Mace’s brow twitches. Okay. Okay, he can deal with a ten year old. He successfully taught Depa, didn’t he?

(Then again, Depa hadn’t been a child who was hell bent on infuriating him on purpose; she had also been thirteen, and the only chaos she brought and still brings are the occasional pranks on him and the jokes about his bald head; luckily the padawan drama ended with the beginning of her Knighthood.)

If only Master Rheba Toome was available – or Kenobi. They both have somehow managed to become the designated Skywalker Wranglers, as Master Koon had once said after an incident when a slightly murderous droid with a flesh eating plant attached to it got loose in the Temple last year.

An idea comes to him suddenly. “You tell me why you are in the Temple’s kitchens so late, and I will say nothing to your crèche master. I might even let you leave with what you came for–,” he doesn’t miss the subtle yet sudden jolt of suspicious relief, “–but if you don’t, I will take you out of here myself and speak to Crèche Master Aryn the moment we get back to your clan.”

There’s a long, tense silence where Zariza debates with herself in her head. So long that Mace wonders if he will have to repeat himself. Then, “Ani’s sick.”

That…is not what Mace had been expecting. He raises a brow. “He is?”

She nods, and points to the fridge a few feet away. “And he likes the red jell-o.”

“Is he in the Halls?” Mace asks, growing slightly concerned because Obi-Wan got sent out to a solo mission just the day before and Padawan Skywalker hadn’t been allowed to go. He didn’t put up much of a fight, which shocked yet pleased everyone. Now, he knows possibly why he didn’t, and that makes the situation slightly worrying.

Zariza opens her mouth, pauses, closes it with pursed lips, and shakes her head no.

“And why isn’t he?”

She shrugs, a bit defensively. “I dunno. Probably thinks he’s fine. He went to his lessons all day – Aayla tried talking him into going to Healer Bant but it didn’t work.”

Mace frowns with furrowed brows, but quickly smooths his expression when gets a sense of guilt and shame and a vague impression of an apology, though he doesn’t know what for. He kneels down without a second thought, and hates (that’s not the Jedi way–) how her chin is tilted down, eyes casted to the side, as if expecting some harsh punishment for…what? Caring for her brother? Telling Mace that he’s sick? If he was any less of a Jedi, the ones who enslaved the Skywalkers would be six feet under.

He makes sure to release the anger into the Force before speaking again; he will need to meditate later. “I am not upset with you, little one. Not anymore, at least. I’m simply concerned about your brother’s health right now,” he assures her.

Zariza huffs, still looking away, but she’s no longer tucking her chin into her chest. “So am I,” she mumbles petulantly. “S’why I want the red jell-o. He likes it.”

“So you have said. Can you tell me how he was feeling last time you saw him? Or in your Force bond, right now?”

“Uh… Sick.” A beat; Mace refrains from spouting a heavily sarcastic remark to a ten year old. “Um. He threw up once he got back to his and Obi-Wan’s rooms. Said something ‘bout being really, really tired earlier. He’s sleeping now.”

Mace hums, and stands up. “All right. Well then, let’s go. I want to check on him, and if needed I will be taking him to the Halls of Healing.”

Zariza frowns as she finally looks at him, but then her eyes travel to the fridge. There’s a silent question there. She goes to ask it but stops herself, and nods. “Okay,” she says instead, almost a mumble, and turns to leave.

He watches her for a second, glances at the fridge that holds the red jell-o, and then moves to walk beside her. “If I was sure it would not upset his stomach, I would let you take some jell-o to him now. But… Maybe tomorrow, if he is feeling better, you can.”

As she tilts her head to look up at Mace in surprise, he makes sure to stare straight ahead. “…Really?”

Mace nods. Then, looks down at her and gives her the barest of smiles. “Really.”

Zariza’s eyes narrow once again. “You promise?”

“I promise– but only if he feels better,” he emphasizes when she starts to grin. “No other time than that.”

“What if he asks for some and he doesn’t feel better?”

Patience, he reminds himself as they walk through the sun halls of the Temple. “Then ask Master Healer Che, or one of the other Healers.”

He gets silence as a response and he glances down to make sure she hasn’t suddenly run off. It’s happened before with her crèche master and Master Rheba Toome and Knight Kenobi – one could say she has a knack for simply sneaking off at the most random times – and he would very much dislike if she snuck away from him in the dark hallways. But, she’s still at his side, clearly thinking about something. Hopefully about what Mace just said and not about putting another flesh eating plant on a half working droid of Anakin’s.

“…What if there aren’t any Healers around?”

“There will be.”

“But what if there aren’t?” she presses.

Mace sighs quietly, hopefully enough to where Zariza doesn’t notice. “Then wait for one.”

More silence. Another glance. She’s still there.

“…I guess I can do that,” she says.

That is, well, kind of concerning. But better than the girl outright disagreeing with him, that’s for sure.

The rest of the walk to Knight Kenobi’s and Padawan Skywalker’s room is done in silence. Mace acknowledges the nocturnal Jedi with a nod, and Zariza shyly waves at the ones who notice her. When they get there Zariza let’s herself in, unlocking the quarters with zero problem, and hurries inside. Mace follows at more relaxed pace. He notices as she takes one look at the living area’s couch, frowns, and makes her way to the little hallway. Mace looks as well, and notices the padawan’s abandoned holopads for a few of his lessons, as well as just a general mess of the area that one would expect from a 14 year old when left alone.

Zariza speaking tears Mace’s attention away from the mess.

“Why the kark are you lying on the bathroom floor? ”

“E chu ta, Zari! None of your business.”

Ah. Huttese cuss words. Nothing unusual, but still.

“Watch your language, young ones,” Mace reprimands lightly, and makes his way to the bathroom where Anakin, indeed, lying on the bathroom floor.

Anakin groans. “Ah, chuba, why’d you bring him?” He sounds pitiful, so much so that it comes out as a whine more than anything. He’s sweating, too, and sickly pale, with visible bags under his eyes from where Mace and Zariza stand at the bathroom entrance. By the smell, Mace and tell that he’s thrown up again. None of is visible, so he’s sincerely hoping Anakin made it to the toilet in time and flushed.

“Because you’re a sick koochoo,” Zariza says.

“Language,” Mace says almost absentmindedly.

She huffs and crosses her arms. “I only called him an idiot.”

“I’m not sick,” the teen denies. It’s a weak argument. Mace can only raise an eyebrow. “And I’m not an idiot, either!” Raising his voice defensively sends Anakin into a coughing fit that ends rather quickly. He groans and curls into a ball, all the while keeping his face on the tile flooring.

Zariza rolls her eyes. “And I’m Jabba.”

Mace sighs and enters the bathroom. He crouches down to Anakin, and places the back of his hand on the boy’s forehead. He jerks away just as quickly, though that doesn’t keep Anakin from making a pitiful sound at the loss of contact. Mace’s lips form a thin line. “I think it’s best if I take you to the Healers, Padawan Skywalker,” he says.

“Nooo, I’m not sick!”

Mace shakes his head. “You are – you have a fever, Skywalker, and it’s best we take you to the Halls of Healing since Knight Kenobi is off planet.”

He mumbles and groans something indiscernible.

Zariza walks over and nudges Anakin’s side with her foot. “Do you want some red jell-o?”

“Kriff no.”

Mace almost tells them to watch their language again, but decides that is a fight he will have with them another day. Preferably during daylight hours and not at midnight when they were all supposed to be healthy and sleeping. Preferably, it won’t be him having such conversations with them.

(Truthfully, he loves the children in the Order, the Skywalker siblings included – but right now in his exhausted, slightly hangry state, he can only spend so much time with them.)

She hums. “What about tomorrow?”

Anakin stills. “…Maybe.”

The initiate grins and looks at Mace, clearly pleased with the answer.

He nods and gives her a smile of acknowledgment, then refocuses on the task at hand. “Can you get up and walk? Or will I be carrying you?”

Anakin gives another response that might as well be in another language, and Mace closes his eyes as he pinches the bridge of his nose. He breathes in slowly a few times, centers himself, and opens his eyes again a few moments later.

“Okay. Carrying, it is.”

Anakin hardly protests – well, he tries, at least, but it can hardly be counted as anything – and Mace picks up him with not too much difficulty; one arm around the boy’s shoulders, the other under his knees. As Mace leaves the rooms, Zariza follows and turns off the lights along the way, and even locks the door once they are out into the hallway.

And then she starts talking. Continuously.

It’s a vast difference from earlier, and it catches Mace by surprise. Quickly, though, it dawns on him that she’s talking for her brother’s benefit. From droids to podraces to Master Yoda’s swamp stew to the names of new plants she has learned about, and so and so forth. Something about the rambling must help, because Anakin relaxes more as the walk to the Halls of Healing goes by. So much so that he gives up on holding his head up and rests it on Mace’s shoulder, almost passing out completely by the time they make it to the Halls, Zariza tapering off about a holoshow she heard one of the older initiates talk about the other day.

“Master Windu,” one of the Master Healers, a nocturnal species, greets with a bow. Dark, large eyes focus on the brother and sister once they stand straight. “Ah, and the Skywalkers,” they say, playfully flicking their tail in Zariza’s direction to get a giggle out of her.

“Hullo,” she says, smiling up at the Healer.

“Healer Rou,” Mace returns the greeting. “I’m afraid we have a sick padawan on our hands.”

“Hm, yes I see,” Healer Rou says, and moves closer to rest a hand on Anakin’s forehead just like Mace had done before. They remove it quickly, though not as fast Mace did. “He definitely has a fever. How long has he been feeling badly?”

The question is aimed to Mace, but he looks down at Zariza for the answer.

Her eyebrows raise at the realization. “What? Oh, uh… Last night, maybe?” She shrugs, shuffling awkwardly. “I dunno, really, I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize, little one,” Healer Rou assures her. They pat her head with a kind smile. “It is okay if you don’t know.”

Zariza nods, relaxing a little. “He, uh, he’s puked a couple of times.”

Healer Rou hums, and motions for them to follow them. They do. “It is most likely a stomach virus of sorts, nothing too serious and nothing we can’t handle. It has been going around this month, I’m afraid. Padawan Skywalker will be the fifth one to have gotten it. I am assuming the plan is to have him spend the time here while he gets better? Until Knight Kenobi returns, that is.”

Mace nods while they enter a medical room, and carefully sets Anakin on the bed after Zariza dashes forward to pull the covers back. “Yes, it is. And Initiate Skywalker wants to give him his favorite red jell-o tomorrow if able.”

Healer Rou smiles, amused. “Of course. Come by at lunch and if he can stomach it, whoever’s rotation it is should allow it. Now; I have got everything under control from here, Master Windu – I will be sure to keep you updated, and will send a message out to Knight Kenobi letting him now as well.”

“Thank you, Healer Rou,” Mace tells them.

“Yeah, thanks Healer Rou!” Zariza exclaims, and rushes to hug the Jedi.

Healer Rou chuckles, hugging the young girl back. “Of course. Head on off to bed, now; we don’t need two sick Skywalkers,” they tease.

“Fine, I guess,” she sighs, far too dramatically for a ten year old that has both adults stifling their laughs.

But unfortunately, it actually takes ten more minutes to leave. Master Vokara Che appears, and speaks to Mace about how long Anakin might have to stay while Healer Rou pulls up Anakin’s medical file. Mace signs what he needs to, double checks with Vokara Che and Rou what he knows about any medicinal allergies he might have, and then leaves. Zariza sticks like glue to him the entire time.

Two steps out of the Halls of Healing, Mace stops in his tracks and picks her up after she yawns three times in less than two minutes.

“Th’nks fo’ helpin’, Window,” she mumbles into his shoulder with muffled, half asleep words.

Mace sighs, but smiles despite himself. He gently pats her back. “Of course, Zariza. Let’s get you back to your clan, hm?”

The answering soft snore he gets in return has him chuckling.

He hadn’t planned on his night to go this way, but he would be lying if he said he regrets it.

[suknas]

First Line Tag Game II

Tagged by @ruluxe (who dared to say that I have fanfics that I'm "holdin out on us" -- it is true tho lol)

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening lines then tag 10 of your favorite authors.

Tagging: Everyone who wants to do this! (I'm not sure which authors are still active here ;-;)

Now we all know how inconsistent I am. But I do like starting with what's going on with the characters/where they are... Don't I? Well I decided to start with the most recent published ones, descending to the first ones published (skipping some), and finally some of my WIP/"One day I will finish" fanfics.

Quick fun fact: I didn't remember writing most of those fanfics lol

So here we go!!!! (it's gonna be a bumpy ride)

1. Into the Storm [GrimmIchi]: The lightning and thundering's brightness and strong noises were slicing the dark-blue sky of a lonely and sleepless night. A storm was coming. The heavy rain and gusts of wind were not the only thing rapidly creeping through the night. Kurosaki Ichigo could sense something else approaching along with the dark clouds and the pouring rain that now was hitting his window. [2021 (but the draft was from 2017 maybe), Bleach]

2. Ascension [AoKaga]: Light appeared in the darkness and soon darkness became insignificant before the beauty and immensity of the bright light surrounding a tall and masculine figure. He walked calmly through the uncertain route that many others once also stepped into it. He had a goal. The time to seek the one whom he had once shared many memories with, good and bad. The one person whom he had loved immensely but had never gotten to experience that feeling truly and at its fullest. The time had finally come. [2021 (again the draft was probably from 2016), Kuroko no Basket]

3. The One Where Prompto Does Not Want To Be In The Middle [Gladios x Prompto x Noctis x Ignis]: Sleeping in the camping tent was always a challenge in Prompto’s opinion. It is not as if he does not like camping, it was pretty nice being able to sit under the stars and gaze them, it was relaxing. Sometimes Noctis would sit behind him, embracing him in a warm hug. They would spend a long time chatting and exchanging affectionate touches until both of them felt like sleeping. Other times Gladio would join him, and the shield would let the blond lay his head on his lap. More often than not Prompto ended up sleeping while feeling his hair being played by dexterous and caring fingers. And whenever Ignis had time to spare, he would also join him after cleaning the mess they did during dinner. [2020 (again the draft was maybe from 2017), Final Fantasy XV]

4. The Owl Who Got Caught [KuroTsuki + Bokuto]: The third day of the training camp was finally over. Soon, everybody was running to the school cafeteria to grab something to eat. In the meantime, while nobody was looking, Kuroo took the opportunity to take Tsukishima’s hand, guiding him to the room that the Nekoma team was sharing; closing the door right after they entered. Nekoma and Karasuno’s middle blockers became closer ever since their first practice game, now they were spending more time together, and their relationship had an unexpected development. [2020 (draft probably from 2017), Haikyuu]

5. A Boyfriend Text [KuroTsuki]: Laying in his bed with a smile on the lips Kuroo was texting his sweet strawberry shortcake boyfriend. Eyes rapt, staring at the bright screen in the dark room; he was feeling anxious if his stupid smile and trembling fingers were any indicator.

TETSUROU: Wanna come over this weekend?

It had been some weeks since they had the opportunity to meet; school and volleyball practice were mostly the reason for their inevitable long separation. Week after week something "magically" came up in their agendas, but Kuroo was hopeful, however, that maybe this time their schedules would finally allow them to meet. [2020, Haikyuu]

6. Domestic Bliss [KiriBaku]: Sitting comfortably on the couch, Kirishima and Bakugou were finally spending some time together after a rough week. It was one of those rare days where both could enjoy a peaceful and uneventful afternoon. To say that both men were lazily on the couch doing absolutely nothing productive was not very accurate. Bakugou was doing something with his spear time, he was reading a book. By his focused attention on the pages, anyone could tell that he was enjoying his reading and only someone stupid would dare to bother him. [2017, Boku no Hero Academia]

7. Getting Together [KiriBaku]: “Let’s grab something to eat!” The blonde shouted after stretching his arms above his head. Bakugou’s red eyes fixed on the figure of Kirishima, who was sitting comfortably in bed with his back against the headboard.The redhead’s own red eyes snapped at the figure on the chair, eyeing him from head to toe; he spaced out in no second. Kirishima wanted to touch those damn nice muscled arms, which were slowly lowered down while his hands were placed on his toned thighs. Kirishima couldn’t help himself and started to imagine Bakugou’s whole body underneath him wrapping his body with those strong legs and arms. [2017, Boku no Hero Academia]

8. AoKaga short stories collection [AoKaga]: The atmosphere of the place was hot and heavy. However, because of that, the two teens lying down on the bed were more connected than ever. Their bare bodies were united white skin with dark skin. Their breaths were out of rhythm and their hands slid skillfully on each other’s bodies. The movements were synchronized and intense. The pleasurable moans and whispers echoed in the dark room, making the place even more delightful for both of them. [2017 - Short Story #4, Kuroko no Basket]

9. It's Picture Time! [Pomptis]: In the Regalia, Prompto and Ignis were heading to the nearest outpost from their camping spot to get some supplies for the night. The sun on the horizon was almost hiding behind the tree path by Prompto’s right side, the scenery formed by dim light and shadowy dark spots caught Prompto’s eyes.“Wow! Look at the light, it’s amazing!” the blond shouted, “Can’t we stop just for a bit?” Prompto was thrilled by the idea of adding more photos to his portfolio. [2017, Final Fantasy XV]

10. That Side of You [MiSawa]: Miyuki was laying in the bed on his back, eyes glassy, hands shaking and skin hot. The body above his was driving him to a place where it was absolute bliss and pleasure. Hips moved together, swinging with movements that were making Miyuki moans the pitcher’s name in a short and breathless tone.“Sa-wamura– Aah! Do that again,” his voice low and hoarse made the order sound weak, and his usual snarky tone was lost a long time ago in some part of his foggy mind. [2016, Diamond no Ace]

11. Runaround [Sterek]: Everything was set neatly on the kitchen table. Stiles was going to be there soon, so Derek had already prepared every single book and even snacks that they may need for their studying.It wasn't new that both of them were hanging out for studying matters. Actually, Derek had come up with the idea first, mainly because he was having some issues involving fast heartbeats and some inconvenient hard-ons whenever Stiles was around. He had a ridiculous crush on his friend. However, the smart geek boy didn't have to know about that. [2016, Teen Wolf]

12. Eavesdropping [MiSawa]: Sawamura’s suspicions must be right for his sake. Otherwise, Miyuki would make sure his so careless kouhai would pay a high price for being so noisy about Kuramochi and Ryou-senpai making out when no one was seeing. The closed and almost claustrophobic locker didn’t have enough space to move around, but he and Sawamura managed to fit in somehow. So what? They were eavesdropping, and he still couldn’t say that he was regretting this. [2016, Diamond no Ace]

13. Sterek Short Stories Collection [Sterek]: Stiles had broken up with his last boyfriend a couple of months ago. Or it was what he usually says to Scott when his best friend asks him why he isn’t over his past relationship. Because according to Scott, it’s been a year and a half since Stiles had parted ways with, at the time, his other half. And right now it was one of those times.“You should move on. I haven't seen you with no one since then. What about Danny? Last night I saw him flirting with you, and when I looked again you were nowhere to be found, but Danny was still there drinking alone. And let not forget your grumpy humor because your sex life sucks. It's getting old bro.” [2015 - Short Story #3, Teen Wolf]

14. Urge [AoKaga]: The small public bathroom stall in that bar hadn't been made for sure to accommodate two giants, dumbasses, and impulsive basketball players. Nevertheless, this fact wasn’t that important for the Too player neither to the Seirin player. Kagami was already pressing his body against Aomine’s, who was stuck between the wall and Kagami while his mouth was being devoured by the other’s tongue. Both were fighting into that kiss as if there was no tomorrow. Their hands were traveling quickly by each other’s body, and quickly they were undoing their pants’ zippers and buttons. Their shirts were all messy, as well as their hair. Their breaths were heavy, and the kisses now were directed to their necks, sucking and biting the skin exposed. Soft moans could be heard, but not loud enough to echo in the bathroom. [2013, Kuroko no Basket]

15. After Dancing Lessons [AoKaga]: The music was set up, and his hips started to move, his steps were guiding him to where a dark skinned guy was sat on a chair. The dancer's eyes were fixed in front of him. The watcher's eyes sparkled with excitement when the other sat on his lap, one leg on each side of his body, and kissed his cheeks along to his lips and chin, returning the same way till his ear, biting there slightly. The dancer felt the other hands trying to take his clothes off and immediately stood up, preventing to have those hands on his body so easily. [2013, Kuroko no Basket]

16. Sleep Well [ZoSan]: The night was agitated on board of the Sunny and lots of dirty dishes were pilled up on a corner of the sink. Sanji didn't have this time someone to help him to clean everything up. 'Those lazy bastards!' He frowned, 'all right! Let’s put all these things in their right place!' And with that thought, Sanji started the tiring process of doing all the dishes. On the bright side, if he was the one doing it everything would be spot on in no time. [2013, One Piece]

17. Possessive Lover [KidLaw / LawLu]: The bell indicating the change of periods rang and the students gradually began to leave one room to proceed to another. In the middle of changing classrooms, some students went to a quick trip to the bathroom, which was where that a spiky redhead boy was heading to. He had a dangerous gaze gleaming in his golden eyes; he had quite a threatening presence, and his looks did not lie about his fiery and explosive personality. Any sane person would prefer to avoid crossing paths with him or to even look the boy in the eyes. [2012, One Piece]

18. English Lesson [WIP, AoKaga]: The room was a mess. There were a lot of magazines, books, sheets, some snacks, three soda bottles, two hoodies and two pairs of sneakers all thrown on the floor. Sitting side by side, in front of the center table with notebooks and pens in hands were Kagami and Aomine. They had that idea of starting to study at each other’s places every Thursday night after their club activities. It was not like they liked to take a book, read it and think about the subject, the matter here was way bigger than just casual study. Their grades were in the red mark, which meant that they needed to rise them at least not to get scolded and taken off the basketball team. This time around Kagami was helping Aomine with his English study. The redhead was doing his best to try to explain, but he wasn’t that good at teaching those so detailed grammatical things… [unknown year - present, Kuroko no Basket]

19. High heels [WIP, KuroTsuki]: Tsukishima walked all proud on a black suit, white button-up shirt, grey tie and black stilettos in the room. Kuroo was watching his slow movements with a fierce look from the bed, where he was sat with his hands tied to the headboard by a soft cloth. Tsukishima stopped at the bed foot, looking straight at Kuroo. Ever so slowly, Tsukishima’s hands loosened the tie around his neck, the button-up shirt was having his buttons calmly undone, soon the shirt was wide open reviling Tsukishima's snow-white skin for Kuroo’s delight. [unknown year - present, Haikyuu]

20. Christmas thing / The untitled fanfic [WIP, AoKaga]: It was Christmas the snow was falling outside, many sparkle lights, so many decorations everywhere, people receiving and giving presents, eating together and singing songs. A day to celebrate and stay with family and friends. A day full of joy and happiness.At Kagami's house every single tradition was made. Kagami invited the Seirin basketball team to celebrate, but it ended up with some unexpected guests, the self-invited guests were some of Touou basketball team. And of course, Aomine Daiki was there. The redhead didn't even want to know how Aomine had found out about his little party. He'd bet that Kuroko had told something to Momoi and she kindly invited Aomine and the rest of the troupe. [unknown year - present, Kuroko no Basket]

[sachigram]

Telescope Now Chapter 1

((click here to read on ao3!!))

It's a usual busy morning when Izaya catches sight of familiar bleached, messy hair. He considers his options, wondering if it might be in his best interest to let Shizuo pass by unprovoked. Izaya's got a deadline coming up and a meeting to get to, not to mention his stomach is a little sour from leaving his apartment without breakfast. He could wait until Shizuo passes, make his way to the nearest cafe, and the rest of his day could go without a hitch, but somehow the thought of another mundane day has Izaya's face scrunching in irritation. His work isn't normal by any means, nor is his life, but he thinks if it ever started to be predictable, he really might lose his mind for good.

He watches Shizuo, wondering when might be the best time to intercept him, but he pauses when he hears Shizuo's laugh ring out. It's bright, unbridled, happy. Izaya rarely sees Shizuo like this, and he's never seen Shizuo like this up close. By far, this is the most Izaya has ever hated Shizuo. This is the most hate Izaya thinks he's capable of.

Still, he isn't making himself known.

Shizuo passes by with Tom and Vorona, still chuckling about something Izaya didn't hear. All of them are in their own little bubble, and to anyone who didn't know them, they might seem vulnerable. Izaya grins at that, thinks of false perceptions. He really shouldn't interrupt their day, not when there's so much else to do. Shizuo likely wouldn't stop chasing Izaya for over an hour, and even afterwards, Izaya knows staying in Ikebukuro means Shizuo will keep hunting him. It's better for Shizuo not to know Izaya is even in the city at all.

He steps out onto the sidewalk anyway.

It's an instantaneous reaction. Shizuo's happy, contented expression is replaced entirely, and Izaya knows if nothing else, he's succeeded in ruining Shizuo's morning. Shizuo steps closer, his teeth bared, fists clenched. He growls something, but Izaya barely hears it, doesn't need to. It's the same old song and dance, and Izaya knows it by heart.

He turns and books it, and he can tell without looking back that Shizuo is hot on his heels. It's strange, really, that his least favorite person— monster— is always the one who makes Izaya feel most alive. It's probably an animal instinct, something leftover from the past. Shizuo is a predator, after all, another breed entirely. More than that, he's fun. Shinra has mentioned, more than once, that goading Shizuo is akin to self-destructive behavior on Izaya's part, but then what does that make it for Shizuo?

“Getting distracted, flea?!” Shizuo shouts, and Izaya cackles as he dodges whatever it was Shizuo just threw. “You're slow today!”

“Faster than Shizu-chan all the same,” Izaya mutters to himself. He hasn't been sleeping well, which isn't anything new. He's got so much work to do, took on a lot at once, maybe too much. Izaya has always had a hard time sitting still, but at some point he's forgotten how to stop. It's unfortunate he ran into Shizuo today, but what was he supposed to do? Leave Shizuo in peace? Never.

He's propelling himself forward, and he thinks he's finally gaining enough momentum to lose Shizuo, but what he loses is something much more significant. He hears a honking, some shouts, a woman screaming. He feels pain all over, and then his vision goes black.

***

When he comes to, no time seems to have passed. He tastes blood in his mouth and realizes he bit his tongue when he fell. He's flat on his back, concrete smooth against his palms, and he blinks stars out of his vision as he realizes Shizuo is on top of him.

“Oi. You okay? Flea?” Shizuo holds up a hand. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“None?” Izaya asks. He coughs a bit, choking on blood and saliva. He bit his tongue hard. “You're just— it's just a fist.”

Shizuo leans back, eyeing him. His phone is in his other hand. “I'm gonna call Shinra.”

“Don't bother, I'm fine. Fuck...” Izaya looks around. A crowd has gathered, circling them, and Izaya thinks of sharks in the water. “I can walk.”

“Your head's bleeding.”

“Was I hit?” Izaya asks. He looks around for a truck, but he never saw what it looked like.

“No,” Shizuo says. He holds his phone up to his ear, and Izaya realizes Shizuo is calling Shinra anyway. “You weren't hit.”

Izaya barely registers Shizuo's conversation with Shinra. He's foggy, unsure of details, and his head is pounding. He presses his hand into his hair and winces as pain shoots through him. When he looks at his fingers, they're covered in blood.

“I can walk,” Izaya says again. His legs seem to be fine, everything seems to be fine. It's just his head that's hurting, and Izaya has been concussed before. He stands and wobbles a bit, and Shizuo is on his feet in an instant.

“Izaya, stop. You're hurt.”

“I wasn't hit,” Izaya argues. “Did you save me?”

Shizuo glares at him before barking something else into the phone, and Izaya finds himself lowering back to the ground. His stomach is uneasy, and everything about this feels wrong somehow, like he's not in the right place or time. He draws his knees up and rests his head against them, feeling like he's dreaming.

Shinra arrives pretty fast. He's babbling something about already being in the area, and then he's pressing his fingers roughly into Izaya's hair and over the growing lump. Izaya hisses in pain and jolts back. Shinra laughs.

“You're fine if you can complain, Izaya-kun!”

“I don't think that's how pain works,” Izaya mutters. He's noticed that Shizuo is still standing off to the side, smoking as he observes.

“You should come over. You'll need monitoring.” Shinra checks over the rest of Izaya before deeming him fit enough to be moved. “Can you walk?”

“Yes,” Izaya snaps, but when he stands, his legs feel like jelly. “I already said I could.” He winds up blacking out before he can take a step.

***

As it turns out, it is a concussion, a pretty bad one. His head ends up needing stitches, and Izaya is surly and irritated by the time Shinra is finally leaving him alone. Shinra's guest bed isn't comfortable, but the room is quiet and private. Izaya wonders if Shizuo is still out there with Shinra and Celty, but then he decides he doesn't want to know the answer.

It's hard to focus at all, but time is definitely passing. Izaya keeps dozing off and waking to different lighting in the room, usually to Shinra jabbing him. It takes a while for Izaya to feel up for talking, but when he does, he blurts out the only thing he can think of.

“Shizu-chan saved my life, didn't he?”

Shinra hums and writes something down on a chart.

“He did. Tackled you right out of the way from an incoming truck.”

Izaya frowns and tries to make sense of that answer.

“What's wrong? Unhappy you were saved by Shizuo-kun? Or just unhappy you were saved?” Shinra asks, and he grins as he plops into the seat next to the bed. “You should be grateful. You probably would've died if you were struck.”

“Don't tell me how to feel about my own mortality,” Izaya says. ��It's rude.”

“You've always called him a monster, but he was human enough to save you! Maybe this is your new lease on life. You can become a better person,” Shinra quips.

“Does that mean I'll finally get better friends?”

“Maybe! I don't have any intention of changing, though.”

“Of course not.” Izaya grins and covers his eyes with his hands, rubbing at them as incredulous laughter escapes him. “Fuck. This can't be real, right? Shizu-chan saving me?”

“He's a good person,” Shinra says, and he swats at Izaya when Izaya just laughs harder. “I mean it!”

“He's barely a person at all.” Izaya uncovers his face and stares listlessly up at the ceiling again. Where does this leave him? Should he thank Shizuo, be indebted to him? Should he stop trying to make Shizuo's life a living hell?

“What are you thinking about?” Shinra asks, and he smiles when Izaya turns to him.

“I didn't ask him to save me.”

Shinra sighs and leans onto the bed, his hand tugging at Izaya's sleeve.

“I'm not saying you should thank him or anything. He'd probably be mad if you did, actually. But maybe just try and hate him a little less, huh? I think you can do that much.”

“Maybe I can't,” Izaya says. “Maybe seeing him as anything other than a monster is a fate worse than death. Maybe this was his plan all along, to torture me.”

“You're being dramatic. Now I know you're fine!”

They wind up playing cards. Izaya's headache is at a tolerable level, due to the pills Shinra gave him. Shinra's presence is warm and welcome, and Izaya's chest aches with how much he's missed this, playing a game with somebody. Usually he's alone, a master of solitaire and his own games, but this is better, much better, seeing Shinra get so competitive and bent out of shape about losing. Izaya considers letting Shinra win a hand, but thinks better of it. Shinra is an even worse sore winner than loser.

“I can leave tomorrow, right?” Izaya asks.

“I don't see why not. You're conscious and alert, no signs of brain damage.” Shinra shows his hand, a full house. He's beaming. “I win!”

“Finally,” Izaya says, bemused. “Here I was thinking that playing alone would be more of a challenge.”

“Liar,” Shinra says, already shuffling the cards. “You look far too happy to be thinking mean things about me.”

Izaya joins Shinra for dinner at the table. Neither Celty nor Shizuo are in the apartment, which Izaya is grateful for. He's not ready to face Shizuo, and he isn't in the mood to deal with Celty pestering him about being nicer to Shizuo from now on. Shinra serves some fried rice with vegetables, nothing fancy, but Izaya eats ravenously, remembering he hasn't had food all day.

“I wonder what's keeping Celty,” Shinra says after a few minutes of quiet.

“She's probably off with Shizuo, both of them discussing what a saint he is for saving my life,” Izaya mutters around his chopsticks.

“Mm, maybe. She keeps odd hours, after all. I love having her with me all the time, but just thinking about our reunion makes me so giddy! I can't wait for her to come back!”

Izaya rolls his eyes and then winces. He rubs at the bandage covering his head.

“Are you in pain?” Shinra asks.

“It's fine, really. It's going to hurt for a while. I think it's the stitches more than the injury.”

“It was a pretty bad injury. You really hit your head hard.”

“So you've said,” Izaya says, letting his hand fall. “Like I said, it's fine.”

“It's unlike you to be so clumsy. I expect Shizuo running into things, but you're usually more careful,” Shinra says, and Izaya nods.

“I've been a little under the weather. I shouldn't have provoked Shizuo today.”

“You shouldn't provoke him at all!” Shinra laughs. “A concussion is less than you deserve.”

“Second chances, and all. I suppose next time I get Shizuo hit by a truck, I'll be more sympathetic to his plight. After all, he saved my life.” Izaya takes another bite of food and then looks up at Shinra. “Have you got any sake?”

“I do, but you can't have any. You're concussed.”

“Worth a try,” Izaya laments, leaning back in his chair.

“I mean it, Izaya-kun,” Shinra starts, and Izaya waves him away.

“I get it, no drinking—“

“Not that,” Shinra interrupts. “I mean about Shizuo-kun. This fight really needs to end before someone gets killed. You came close today.”

Izaya sighs. “Freak accidents happen every day. It doesn't matter what I was doing before it happened to me. For all we know, it still might've happened.”

“Doesn't mean you should further your chances.”

“Why not? I'm a good gambler.” Izaya smirks, but he softens when Shinra keeps giving him a hard stare. “What do you care for, anyway? You've never minded our feud before, aside from your desire for us all to be friends.”

“I mind it! I've always minded it! I don't want either of you to die. It seemed kind of...playful, for a while, but you're both getting worse all the time.”

“Playful,” Izaya scoffs. “We've been trying to kill each other. This isn't anything new.”

“It is, and you know it. You're both out for blood all the time now. I'm so glad Shizuo-kun saved you today. He could've let you get hit, but he didn't. It gives me hope that you two could be—“

“Stop it,” Izaya says sharply. “I mean it. I don't want to talk about him anymore.”

“Izaya-kun.” Shinra is giving him an imploring stare, his jaw set. “No one is going to make the two of you be friends, but can't you at least consider not being his enemy?”

“No,” Izaya spits vehemently. “I can't consider that, and I won't. This isn't some stupid rivalry that's going to end from one act of selflessness. It's not that simple, for him or for me, and I'm sure he'll tell you the same.”

“Saving a life isn't just an act of selflessness, Izaya-kun. It's more than that! Don't you know how much a life is worth?” Shinra's stern gaze turns into something else. “Or is it just because it's your own life that you don't see it?”

“For fuck's sake,” Izaya groans. He puts his head into his hands. “You never know when to quit. I already said this was a pointless discussion, and you're still beating the dead horse into the ground.”

“I'm determined,” Shinra says. “Finish eating before it gets cold. And think about what I said before you just brush it off! I really think you two would be good for each other.”

Izaya doesn't respond because there's no point. No matter what he says, Shinra will always be trying to get him to make amends with Shizuo, and in a weird way, Izaya is grateful for Shinra's tenacity. Shinra is a selfish idiot, but he's the only person in Izaya's life who actually cares about him. He's the only one who would play cards with him on his sickbed, anyway.

“Did you call your sisters?” Shinra asks as he clears the table. Izaya gets up to help, not wanting to be a rude house guest.

“Of course not. Why would I?”

“Well, you almost died,” Shinra says, and Izaya chuckles, thinking to himself that it's really not as big a deal as Shinra is making it out to be. No one cared when he was stabbed, after all.

“I have no intention of telling them. They'd only use the information as an excuse to attack me, you know? Mairu really has it out for me these days.”

“You have a strange relationship with them. Have you meddled so much in their lives that they don't like you now? Maybe you should ease up a bit, and I'm sure they'll forgive you.” Shinra washes the dishes, and Izaya dries them with a fluffy towel. A bright cursive 'C' is printed on the towel, and Izaya shakes his head at it.

“It's not that. We just don't get along well. I'm sure they blame me for...certain aspects of themselves, and they're right to. I was never a very good parental figure.” Izaya stacks the dry plates together, unsure of which cabinet they go in. He doesn't come here enough to know where things go.

“You did the best you could,” Shinra says with a shrug. “When they get older, I'm sure they'll realize that.”

Izaya highly doubts it. He always took care of their physical needs, but when it came to emotional availability, he was out of it. He never understood their mood swings and their tantrums, and he didn't really try to. Their parents are painfully ordinary people, so the twins got every bit of their eccentricities from Izaya, who didn't think anything of it at the time. It makes sense for them to hate him. He doesn't take it personally.

He goes back to the guest bedroom after Shinra disappears to shower. There aren't any messages on Izaya's phone, not even from clients. Things are quiet tonight, and Izaya is grateful for it. He doesn't feel well enough to spend energy on getting involved in anything.

He dozes fitfully. He's tired, but different parts of him hurt enough to where he keeps waking up. He can't get comfortable on this shitty bed. He needs to remind himself to bully Shinra into getting another mattress, or at least a mattress cover. Izaya longs for his own bed, his own place, but there is a certain comfort in knowing Shinra is right in the other room, within earshot. Izaya doesn't have that at home.

By morning, Izaya is warm under the covers, and for all it's flaws, Izaya doesn't want to leave the bed. He forces himself upright, and when he pads into the living room, Celty is on the couch, her helmet off. Still, he can tell she's looking right at him. She holds up her PDA.

“You look funny all bandaged up.”

“Thanks,” he says. “Make fun of the mortal for injuries. How cruel of you.”

“Any lasting damage?” she asks.

“I doubt it. I'm nothing if not resilient. I probably won't have work for you for a few days. Things are strangely quiet, and I should rest anyhow. Phone screens are hurting my head.”

She lowers her PDA almost sheepishly, and he finds himself laughing at her.

“It's fine, really. I appreciate the concern.”

“Are you going to thank Shizuo for what he did?” Her shadows are swirling pensively. Izaya knew this was coming.

“Nope!” he says, and she shoves the screen in his face.

“?!?!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!!”

“I didn't ask him to save me, now did I? Besides, can you imagine what he'd say if I thanked him for anything, ever? He'd probably kill me then and there.” Izaya backs away from her and fetches his coat from the rack. “Believe me, pretending it never happened is what we both want.”

“You're wrong.” she types, and he ignores it.

“Tell Shinra I'll see him around,” he says as he exits the apartment. He's ready to be in his own bed, maybe call Namie over to wait on him. She'll hate him even more for it, but she cooks pretty well, and he actually likes her company. It's refreshing to be around people so openly hostile. They rarely hide what they're thinking.

Throughout the day, everything is painfully normal and boring. Aside from the twinges of pain he feels, Izaya thinks to himself it's almost like nothing happened at all. He contacts a few of his clients and asks for an extension, calls Shiki to check in and let him know he'll be resting for a bit, but will be ready for more work soon enough. When Namie comes, Izaya pesters her until she cooks, and she even joins him for dinner, though she says it's just because she's starving.

That night, Izaya sleeps well, though he has odd dreams, which is a normal occurrence for him. He dreams of the twins and himself, all young, together in that house. In the dream, he's trying to spend time with them, but they keep going off by themselves, laughing at him for even attempting to make a connection. No matter what he tries, he feels miles away, and in the end, he relents, leaving them alone until they both vanish. He wakes with a pit in his stomach, a feeling that something is very wrong, even if he can't place it.

He calls for Namie, but he knows she won't answer. It's daylight now, early morning, and she's long gone, clocked out on the time clock he installed just to annoy her. He looks up at his ceiling, remembering the dream. It's like a bad taste in his mouth, something that lingers despite his attempts to get rid of it. He swings his legs over the side of the bed, feeling like something is incredibly wrong, but unable to place exactly what it is.

He showers, forces himself to calm down. Nothing is any different from normal, and no matter what happens, being uneasy won't solve anything. He has so much to worry about already, especially knowing other people saw him injured on the sidewalk with Shizuo lingering over him. He considers messaging Shizuo, ridiculing him for stepping in, but he decides better of it. Izaya is too out of it to run from Shizuo right now, or anytime soon. He'll save it for later.

It's not until Namie is near him, clacking away at her own laptop, that Izaya says anything about it.

“I had a weird dream.” He looks up at her. She pauses from her typing, looks up at him with a deadpan expression.

“Okay. And?” she asks. He laughs, pushes his keyboard away before responding.

“It was about my sisters,” he says, and she raises an eyebrow.

“I thought you said you didn't care about them very much?”

“I don't. It's just... A lot has happened,” he says, and she rolls her eyes.

“Do you want their sympathy? You had a near-death experience. Did you want them to dote on you?” Namie is amused, grinning at him. Izaya shakes his head.

“It's not that. I always have weird dreams, you know? Sometimes I can fall asleep early like a normal person, but when I'm out of it, I see all kinds of things. I guess this one just stuck with me. It seems ominous, kind of. It made me feel...like something is going to happen soon.”

“Like a premonition?” Namie asks, and her playful expression is gone.

“Maybe? I... I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm bringing this up. I've had much weirder dreams in the past. I guess this one just felt different.” Izaya groans before rubbing at his bandage.

“Feelings are enough,” Namie says, and when she meets Izaya's gaze, she is sincere. “I mean it. If you think something is wrong, maybe something really is wrong.”

“You're being awfully engaging today, Namie-chan,” Izaya says, and she shrugs.

“They're your sisters. I understand how it feels to worry about family.” Her expression changes, and Izaya has no doubt she's thinking of Seiji. He makes a face and tries to get back to work, but he still feels off, a little nauseous, too. He's never felt this bad after a head injury before, and he considers calling Shinra, but it's entirely possible he was coming down with a stomach virus before he got hurt. He hasn't felt his best for a few days now.

“I think I'm going to nap,” he says after a while, and Namie glances back at him.

“Nap? You?”

“I feel gross.” Izaya stretches before standing. He pads over to the stairs. “You can go home, if you want. It was stupid of me to try to work today. Sorry to make you come over at all.”

“And now you're apologizing to me? How hard were you hit, anyway?” Namie asks, and she's grinning. Izaya rolls his eyes at her.

“It won't happen again,” he promises, and he starts climbing the stairs. Namie clears her throat.

“Do you need anything before I go?” she asks, and he's a little stunned. Usually she's out the door like a shot the second she learns she can leave for the day. As it is, she's looking at him with a neutral expression, but Izaya thinks she seems a little concerned.

“I still have leftovers from yesterday. I think I have a stomach virus, anyway. I doubt I'll eat much of anything.” He rubs at his stitches. They're really itchy, and underneath there is a constant, throbbing pain.

“Do you have medicine here?” Namie asks, and Izaya snorts.

“I have my own little pharmacy, courtesy of Shinra. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were concerned about me!” Izaya grins at her, waiting for her to argue with him, but she just keeps looking up at him with furrowed brows.

“You don't seem well,” she says, and he frowns. “You look like you're going to keel over.”

“I plan to collapse right into bed. I'm fine, really. Go home, Namie-chan, I don't know what to make of you being nice to me.” He turns and heads back for his room, and he can hear Namie moving around below. He's too tired to make her leave, and really, she has a key. She can come and go when she pleases. He closes his eyes and drifts off to the sound of her footsteps.

When he wakes, his head is buried in his arms, and he realizes he's at his desk. He bolts upright, his eyes wide as he looks around. Namie is looking at him scathingly, as if he's purposely annoying her.

“Bad dream?” she asks.

“I thought I...went to bed. I went upstairs. Didn't I?” he asks, and she raises an eyebrow.

“You said you were tired and fell asleep right there. Now that you're awake, though, can I go?” Namie is already standing, and Izaya blinks up at her. His head is throbbing.

“Did we talk at all? I mentioned my sisters...”

“Your sisters?” Namie asks, pausing in gathering her things. “You never talk about them. Why would you start now?”

“Was it all a dream?” Izaya asks. He feels queasy. He needs to call Shinra.

“You're dreaming about mundane conversations with me? Wow. Here I thought an eccentric like you would have a more colorful subconscious,” Namie quips. She pulls her jacket on and heads to the door. “You have leftovers in the fridge. Don't call me unless you're dying.”

“Well that sounds more like you,” Izaya mutters to himself, waving her out. Once he's alone, he stands and immediately groans in pain before flopping back into the chair. His stomach lurches, and he doesn't know if he'll make it to the bathroom. He sits as still as he can while waiting for the vertigo and nausea to pass, and when he can move again, he grabs his phone and calls Shinra.

“Izaya-kun! I'm having dinner with Celty!” Shinra says as soon as he answers, and Izaya sighs.

“Sorry, I think maybe— Wait, dinner? It's so early,” Izaya says, and Shinra doesn't reply. “Hello?”

“Did you need something or can I hang up?” Shinra asks.

“My head— I think something's wrong. I feel terrible and I'm nauseous.”

“That's normal. You were rattled around, you know? It was a big truck.”

“The truck didn't hit me.”

“Right, right, but Shizuo-kun has more strength than a truck. Either way, just take it easy. You'll feel better soon, but you have to actually take care of yourself. Have you eaten today?” Shinra asks.

“No. I feel like I'll throw it up.”

“You've probably got low blood sugar. Eat something and lounge around, and if it doesn't subside by tomorrow, I'll come by.”

“I'm having trouble telling what's real,” Izaya blurts, and there's a pause before Shinra bursts out laughing.

“I'm not that kind of doctor, Izaya-kun!”

“It's because of my head injury, you idiot!” Izaya snaps, and Shinra keeps laughing.

“I'm sorry. It's normal to have some fogginess. You hit your head hard, and you aren't taking care of your body. Just relax and stay inside tonight. You don't want to pass out in the middle of the city. I'll come check on you tomorrow, okay?”

“Right. Okay.” Izaya hangs up then. He knows Shinra is right. He forces himself to the fridge, and he heats up the food Namie made the day before. He's nibbling at it, already feeling better when his phone rings again. It's Shiki, and he frowns, not understanding why Shiki is calling his personal phone and not his work phone.

“Hello, Shiki-san! What can I do for you?” Izaya answers.

“Izaya-san, I'm sorry,” Shiki says. “Are you home? Are you safe?”

“I'm fine. Yes, I'm home— Is something wrong?” Izaya asks. There's static for a moment, and then Shiki's voice is louder, and it sounds almost like Shiki is right next to him.

“We were worried about you. I'm glad you're safe.”

“We spoke yesterday, right?” Izaya asks. How much of that did he dream? Shiki sighs in his ear.

“Yes, but something has happened. Unfortunately, nothing could be done, and... Izaya-san, it's your sisters.”

“My sisters...” Izaya murmurs. He rubs at his head.

“They're dead.”

[joy1579]

Mc spoils the RFA + saeran with their perfect bath

guys i love baths. bath bombs, I got a job at bath and body works because i love their products and lush doesn't have a store near me. baths are beautiful wonderful indulgent moments of relaxation and should be treated as sacred and holy times. so here we have MC giving the RFA their perfect bath.

also my master list grows with every new post so be sure to keep an eye on it.

Jumin

-        He has been so stressed its affecting his sleep

-        So tonight your bound and determined to get him to relax

-        He doesn’t usually take baths he’s a shower guy

-        His bathtub is HUGE though (mostly because he knows you love baths)

-        The water is so hot his skin is a little red but not so hot that hit hurts

-        Hot water helps relax the muscles you point out

-        you use a bath bomb that colors the water a deep purple with eco safe silver glitter

-        it’s scented with cedar wood and lavender oil

-        you even dimmed the lights and played cello music to create the optimal relaxation

-        he starts soaking as you pour both of you some wine

-        he asks you to join him saying that it would be “terribly boring” without you

-        you chuckle and slip in with him leaning against his chest

-        he tells you about a new cat business

-        you tell him about teaching Elizabeth the 3rd to do the obstacle course you and he set up

-        you mention that the water looks like the starry night sky and move to kiss him

-        he smiles and catches your chin in his hand to deepen the kiss

-        he thinks he will indulge in baths more often if you will be joining him like this

Yoosung

-        he knows that girls like baths but he’s never really enjoyed them

-        he gets antsy if he sits still too long and shows just seem easier

-        so you decide to show him the light

-        the bathtub at his place isn’t big but you can manage since there isn’t an easy solution

-        the water is another problem it doesn’t get hot enough to be relaxing and certainly not hot enough to stay relaxing through the duration of the soak

-        so you fill up what you can from the tap and add boiling water to bring the overall temp up

-        you have to be really carful to not get it too hot

-        you use a light blue bath bomb with gold glitter its shaped like a shooting start and has a tiny toy inside

-        you do not tell him about the toy the toy is yours

-        its smells like freesia and honey, fresh and lightly sweet

-        you play the LOLOL equivalent of the LOZ great fairy fountain music

-        he grabs your hand as you go to give him privacy and won’t meet your eyes when he asks you to join him

-        you share a bottle of cold cherry flavored sparkling water

-        he tells you about the upcoming LOLOL event and you laugh at his animated hand guesturse splashing around

-        you give him a bubble beard and when you kiss him you pull away with half the bubbles on your own face

-        as great as the bath itself was his favorite part is towel drying your hair because of how messy and super fluffy soft it becomes

Saeyoung

-        broski neglects himself when work gets bad

-        he can get nasty

-        you draw him a bath with the hottest water possible

-        you use a bright red bath bomb with black and gold glitter

-        it smells exactly like fruit loops

-        you also add several rubber duckies (one looks like him and one looks like you)

-        you were not planning to join him really

-        but he splashes you and I mean you where wet already so when in roam

-        you too may or may not play act with the rubber ducky versions of you

-        you pour Dr. pepper into those plastic fake champagne flutes and toast to honey buddah chips

-        you have to ban honey buddah chips from the bath

-        you share memes on each other’s phones

-        and play soft 8-bit music as background noise

-        you wash his hair and hum a lullaby

-        he tries not to get sentimental about a childhood he never had

-        but you can tell he’s getting a bit sad so you squish his face and say “my name is Saeyoung and I deserve love” you have him repeat after you while his face is squished until his laughing again

-        you wrap his hair in a towel hat then laugh when he forgets and his hair dries all crazy

-        bath time becomes a really happy routine for you too

Zen

-        he is familiar with baths they are good for your skin every once in a while

-        he’s read all about the benefits, the pros and cons, what to add what to steer clear of

-        he insists warm not hot water “zen hot water feels the best” “it can irritate our skin jagi!”

-        you concede because he’s basically a human furnace anyway

-        you choose a dye and glitter free bath bomb

-        but it does have seaweed extract, coconut oil, and Epsom salt

-        it smells like rose, lemongrass, and mahogany

-        he puts his hair in a bun to wash separately (what’s good for skin isn’t always good for hair)

-        you both do face masks during the soak and there’s something you really enjoy about seeing him in a face mask

-        it’s one of the few times he looks genuinely silly

-        you talk about the new part he just got and he admits he’s nervous

-        “it’s a romance Jagi what if I can’t act it properly because I’m too busy thinking about you?”

-        he either drinks bear or lemon cucumber water depending on if he has an audition tomorrow

-        if he drinks beer he shares the can with you since he’s trying to cut back for you

-        if it’s the lemon cucumber water absolutely runs the bottom of the ice cold glass against your neck to see you shiver and shudder

-        but then you wiggle against him and he’s starting to have a hard time controlling the beast

Jaehee

-        this girl needs a tropical vacation bad

-        but since you don’t have the money or time you decide a staycation will do

-        bath water is hot enough to steam but you give it time to cool a bit before she gets in

-        you use and orange, yellow bath bomb with gold glitter that looks like the sunrise

-        it smells like guava and mandarin to give it a tropical feel

-        you play ocean sounds and quiet ukulele music

-        you make chamomile and lemongrass ice tea sweetened with honey

-        she chats idly about all the benefits of such a drink and debates whether to add it to the café menu or not

-        you can’t help but chuckle at her workaholic nature as you turn to kiss the tip of her nose

-        you even move a laptop with its webcam covered because everything with the RFA hacker has made y’all hyper aware of the vulnerability of technology

-        to the bathroom counter so you can watch Zen DVD’s while you relax

-        afterwards you paint her nails and discuss new cakes for the café

-        she’ll admit it’s no trip to Hawaii but it was very relaxing

Saeran

-        boy refuses to admit he needs some serious TLC

-        but you coax him in if you say you want to share a bath with him

-        you bring fresh flowers into the bathroom and make sure everything is perfect

-        you use a deep red bath bomb with black glitter

-        its shaped like a skull and he enjoys watching it fizz and bubble before you two get in

-        it smells like a bouquet of gardenias, roses, and lilies

-        you play nature sounds with gentle harp music

-        you make sweet hibiscus tea to share with him

-        he tells you about his latest therapy appointment and you ask him idle questions

-        “did you end up planting all the tulips?”

-        “maybe we should build a bird house! Or install a flower box on the window sill!”

-        “are you gonna dye your hair again? Or let it grow naturally?”

-        A lot of your conversations used to be one sided since he was so unused to make his own decisions

-        So conversations where you gently guide him to find his own ideas are helpful

-        Especially in safe and relaxing environment like this.

-        “I think I’d like to keep it bleached until it grows out” he says cautiously

-        “I think when it grows out on its own it’ll feel like the last of mint eye being washed away, and I hope I’ll be better by then. I hope you’ll stay with me until then.”

-        “always and forever” you assure him kissing his cheek and giggling at his light blush

[jeonqukie]

SOMEBODY ELSE / 02.

SYNOPSIS / After years of working up the courage to confess his feelings for you, Min Yoongi decides to give up and move on from the unrequited position he has put himself in. However, when you discover his veiled attraction towards you, you dwell on what could have been. You find yourself ready to reciprocate the same sentiment for him, only you’re too late when he reveals he has already found someone else. Consequently, you’re lured into a series of meaningless and warped encounters from the one person you swore to avoid.

FEATURING / Primarily featuring Min Yoongi and Kim Taehyung.

GENRES / Angst, romance, mature, some fluff, unrequited love, & friends to lovers (?).

WARNINGS / This chapter contains alcohol consumption, graphic language, mentions of sexual activity, and other mature themes.

WORD COUNT / 15k words.

TABLE OF CONTENTS / To be redirected and get the latest on the story, click on the table of contents.

NOTES / After god knows how long, it’s finally here. I want to apologize now for how delayed this chapter was. For context, this was supposed to be completed by December 2019 but due to some poor organization and scheduling on my part, I’m so sorry that this is like, 2-3 months delayed. This will be a very short series (either 4-5 parts only), so I will be sure to start outlining part 3 as soon as possible. Again, this series was inspired by the famous sitcom, Friends with a lot less comedy and a little bit more angst. Feedback is very much appreciated as always. Thank you to those who have showed their love for part 1; I really appreciate it. ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

© All rights reserved to jeonqukie. All or portions of my work may not be reproduced, distributed, modified, or used in any way whatsoever without my permission.

“Yoongi better not put the blame on me for being late. I will cut someone who brings up the fact that I’m always late.” Cluttered in the back seat of the Uber driver’s car, you pulled out a crisp five dollar bill out of your purse and offered it to the patient man who sat at the driver’s seat. Notoriously known for his antiques of being fashionably late, Jimin first hops out of the back seat of the car and offers his hand to ease your exit out of the vehicle.

“I got ready an hour and a half earlier than usual and I was done just in time.” He offers his arm for you to cling onto and you savor the warmth of his clothed body. He wore a crispy white button shirt with the top buttons undone to expose the expensive jewelry that adorned his neck. The sleeves rolled up to his elbows to expose his milky skin. Skin tight leather pants practically pasted on his long legs and you could already feel the stares of the long line outside of the club at the posse’s arrival. 

“It’s fine. Yoongi isn’t one to throw a fit over something like this.” You scoff clinging so closely to his warmth. In contrast to Jimin’s neutral colored attire, you opted to wear a two-pieced ensemble. The crop top ending at the middle of your torso and your skin tight pencil skirt ending right at the middle of your thigh. The sparkling material still shimmering in the moonlight. 

Just in case the weather wasn’t in your favor, you clutched on a large leather jacket on your arm along with a plain black clutch that contained your phone and a few paper bills necessary for any emergencies throughout the night.

“It’s literally been six months since those two let us know that they’ve been secretly seeing each other. I still don’t understand how you never realized Hobi has been fucking with Michelle for a year.” With a simple shake of your head, at the corner of your eye, you see Seokjin awaiting with his hands tucked inside the depths of his pockets.

“Where the fuck have you two been?” He seethed taking long strides towards where you stood waiting for the arrival of another vehicle.

“Since they’re renovating Michelle’s bathroom, they have deprived me of my own bathroom.” You grimaced at the thought of the couple taking their time in the shower, refusing to hop inside the same shower that the couple resided in for a decent hour. “I had to drive over to Jimin’s place to actually get ready. It turns out traffic is a bitch and - well, here we are.”

“You may have to sanitize your bathroom tomorrow or something.” Jimin murmurs underneath his breath.

Seokjin shivered at your story and he grimaced at the thought of his two closest friends fucking in the shower for nearly an hour. “Fuck, alright, it was good enough for me. Let’s see if it’s good enough for Yoongi.” He scrolls through his contacts, only to tap on Yoongi’s name placing the mobile device on his ear. “Yeah, we’re here - Hoseok and Michelle are running a little la - oh, okay, see you.” Tapping on the red button on his screen, Seokjin motions his head over to the very beginning of the line were two bouncers held clip boards with a large list of names attached.

“Yoongi should be at the front to confirm with the bouncers.” Seokjin muttered while he paved the way towards the very first person in line. You hear a series of curses coming from club-goers while they accuse the three of you for cutting in front of the line. However, at the right time, the large doors reveal the man of the hour himself.

You weren’t aware of how tightly you clutched onto Jimin’s arm as Yoongi reveals himself to the crowd.

It’s been nearly two weeks since you had last seen him. He had been promoting alongside a bunch of the artists he has worked with the entire month and, just recently, he had bleached his hear a nearly platinum blonde.

It was a new look on him - definitely something new.

The bright blonde hair stuck out like a sore thumb to you… in a good way. You didn’t expect to like it.

His mane had been slightly ruffled to one side. He probably did it himself knowing just how lazy he had been when it came to making himself look presentable. The outfit, though, was a stark contrast from what you had imagined. He wore a black turtle neck tucked underneath a pair of skinny black jeans with a leather belt that you had gifted him for Christmas. He complemented the rest of the outfit with a leather jacket and, suddenly, you’re hyper aware of the fact that Jimin is shaking you as gently as possible.

All eyes are on you as you remain glued to the concrete floor.

“Are you just going to stand there and gawk at me or are you going to give me a hug?” Yoongi playfully scoffs at you, but you feel your weak arms let loose of the grip it had on Jimin’s arms and he encourages you to walk ahead of you.

As you both entered the nightclub, you are greeted by a conglomerate of people already raiding the dance floor and the bar that had resided adjacent to it. But your entire world stops spinning when you his arms - so foreign - wrap themselves around your frame before you respond back to his actions by slithering your arms around his neck.

“I missed you.” You admitted out loud to yourself and he chuckled into your hair before he pulls you away.

“I was only gone for a month. I told you that you could’ve came with Tiffany to visit.” The name still made your throat swell up and you chewed on the inside of your cheek, shaking your head.

“I figured I’d be third wheeling since I was the only one willing to come and see you.” Rolling your eyes at his statement, Yoongi’s eyes begins searching for something across the second level of the night club.

“Tiffany should be with my co-produer right now. I don’t know if you remember him - Namjoon?” You nod at once when you see Namjoon trying to have a private conversation with Tiffany as he leans in to talk into her ear. “She’s definitely milking this night more than I am.” You are reminded once again that this was Yoongi’s night. Just recently, three of the songs he had produced had been nominated for a multiple music awards and this was a celebratory night for the record label. On top of that, it was the company’s New Year’s Eve party and Yoongi was given the opportunity to invite as many people as he can.

“I’m proud of you.” You practically yell into his ear as he guides you over to the bar where Seokjin is already talking up the bartender and Jimin is ordering the necessary drinks for the newcomers. “I know I’ve said it a lot through text messages, but I just wanted to… say it out loud this time. I really am proud of you, Yoongi. You’re living the dream you always wanted.”

There was a small glint of melancholy in his eye, but you don’t quite catch it when you turn your attention to the drink that Jimin passes over to you. You decide to offer the drink over to Yoongi and bring it up in the air. “Congratulations, Yoongi. What a way to end the year, huh?” You laugh when you take small sips of the drink before passing the other drink over to him.

“Thank you. I wouldn’t have done it without you.” His sentence is left hanging in the air. It’s ambiguity very clear to the both of you and the tension in the atmosphere is so dense that you are left trying to breathe so deeply. “I - I wouldn’t have done it without any of you.” He refers to Seokjin and Jimin as well before they pass him over a bottle of beer. 

Your relationship with Yoongi got more and more complicated from the very first encounter you both had six months ago. Just a mere six months had passed by before your relationship with him was put at a fine line.

It took a decent month for things to cool down. You both buried yourselves in work, both made the excuses of passing up on any group hang outs and - for some odd reason - you both synchronized in not seeing each other. Until the cycle broke during Tiffany’s birthday where she personally wanted everyone at the group to be there. One month of not seeing his face or hearing his voice, you thought you could survive with the mere thought that he existed in the same universe as you did. But that wasn’t enough. You were slow to warm up to the idea of even making things right between the both of you.

You weren’t so sure when things started feeling somewhat the same again.

But it was when the news dropped that Hoseok and Michelle got together. Hoseok, being Yoongi’s roommate, and Michelle, being your roommate, had been sneaking our behind your backs late at night participating in unspeakable encounters. You remembered it so vividly like it was yesterday. Hoseok mentioned that he had to go out of town for a business meeting and you planned on visiting your mom’s for the weekend. However, your own mother ended up cancelling after she had an emergency at work only for you to come back to see Yoongi waiting at your front door dumbfounded.

He had caught them red handed when Tiffany requested that he would drop off a pair of shoes she had borrowed from Michelle earlier that month.

It was a big mistake to return the shoes that evening.

But it was almost a blessing in disguise for everybody.

The cat was out of the bag; Hoseok and Michelle had been seeing each other and you and Yoongi were left to piece the puzzles together only to end the evening in a total state of chaos and reprieve.

From then on, things were slightly coming undone. The tension between the two of you had lifted in the air and you were back to unconsciously suppressing your feelings for him and, suddenly, the pain you experienced seeing him with Tiffany had been numbed out. Though you weren’t necessarily happy to see him with her, you were more than grateful that you weren’t really suffering at this point forward.

It wasn’t until they decided to move in with each other where the familiarity of torment rose from the depths of your stomach. You remembered them announcing it at a movie night Michelle had organized and, immediately, everyone’s curious eyes had alternated from yours and Yoongi’s. 

You avoided his stare for the longest time, not wanting to risk the chance of physically vomiting.

But you thanked Michelle for helping you push through that evening.

“If it makes you feel any better, it didn’t look like he was too happy moving in with her.” The words echoed in your head repeatedly, but you remembered just how much of a good person Yoongi is. He didn’t gloat on purpose on your face. Tiffany made the announcement to share such good news to entire posse.

It was something to be proud of for Yoongi; he was moving forward from a healthy relationship… and that’s all you could really ask for.

The party came to full swing at the arrival of Hoseok and Michelle. They were quick to greet and apologize for their late arrival to Yoongi, but he refused to listen to their excuse. More so, he was just happy that they were able to attend. At this point, you can feel the heels you wore starting to be more of a nuisance than a fashion statement from all of Jimin’s dancing. But the drunken demeanor kept you distracted from the pain at the soles of your foot.

Not even one drink into the night, Michelle demanded that you save her a dance for the both of you but Jimin had been too busy twirling you around in the middle of the dance floor resulting in you seeing stars as you guffawed into his chest.

At the corner of your eye, you can see that Jimin’s dance skills had earned him a decent size of admirers - nothing special about that but you knew that once he found that one girl he was willing to hook up with, you were going to be left all alone with no one to kiss that evening.

For the most part, you were more than okay with not sharing the tradition with anybody. Normally, a simple peck on the mouth from Michelle was enough for you to participate in the tradition, but she had Hoseok now. It was a ludicrous idea to even feel remotely excluded from a silly tradition as a new year’s kiss, but Seokjin already had his eye on the bartender. Inevitably, you knew Yoongi would have Tiffany to share the kiss with. You’ve grown so used to the idea of Yoongi and Tiffany being so intimate with each other, but the pain had been so numbed down that you were just accustomed to the feeling.

The only two people left to find people to kiss had been you and Jimin and he made a deal that he would be your friendly date for the evening, even going so far to offer a smooch at the strike of midnight.

So when you saw the one girl he had his eyes on, you furrowed your brows at him, chewing on your cheek. “You’re my date, Jiminie.” You slurred and he rolls his eyes.

“Oh, c’mon, YN. She’s really cute. I’ll give you a midnight kiss, but I just want to get her number, please?” He coaxes as he guides you through the dance floor and you turn your head to the girl who had been eyeing him the entire time.

“She is cute.” You sighed, slowly releasing from his hold. Suddenly, he spun you into someone else, crashing into their chest as you grunted at Jimin’s abrupt motion. “You better be back in 10 minutes! I’m going to be real upset if you don’t kiss me at the countdown!”

Clutching onto the arms of a stranger, you slowly pull away from their hold only to realize that this was no stranger.

It had been Yoongi who was caught off guard as he held you in his arms. The song blasted so loud in your ears; the song that he had produced and your cheeks flamed a scarlet tint at the proximity of your bodies.

“Jimin’s kissing you at midnight?” You scoff at his playful sneer and you chew on the inside of your cheek, rolling your eyes at his chuckle. “Oh, c’mon, YN. You seriously want to be one of the simpletons who participate in a new year’s kiss?” Yoongi’s choice of words ensues you to erupt in a series of laughter and you unconsciously feel your body gravitate closer and closer to his as the amplitude of the music increases in your ears.

The night club had been too loud that you had to lean into his ear to respond back to him. “Well, you must be one since you’ll have Tiffany to kiss tonight.” You retort back to him before pulling away. His hands had been placed gently onto the small of your waist. It wasn’t low, but respectfully high so it didn’t seem so awkward having to sway to the rhythm of the song he had produced. “Where is she, anyway? She’s supposed to be the one dancing with you right now!”

“Bathroom.” He simply answers into your ear as your bodies bump into each other in the middle of the dance floor. “She’ll be back soon.”

The friction of your bodies against each other made your throat hot and your cheeks hotter than ever. You nodded once simply before realizing just how long you had been this close with each other. It’s been months since he held you like this in his arms. Instinctively, you feel your arms slithering themselves around his neck, still able to dance nonchalantly.

“Tiffany won’t be upset that I’m dancing with you?” You practically yell into his ear before he shakes his head, just as intoxicated as you were. The heavy scent of beer clinging so closely to his skin and mouth and you swallowed hard when your eyes shoot towards his pillowy petals.

“She’s not the jealous type.” He simply replies and you catch his eyes lower onto your glossed lips. Tilting your head to get a good read of his visage, the DJ hired for the event began screaming to the crowd that there was merely 5 minutes left before the clock strikes midnight.

“I would have pinned her to be the jealous type.”

“You are though.” He counters and you are left to knit your brows together, denying his statement before he rolls his eyes as he unconsciously closes the space between the both of you.

“I am not the jealous type.”

“You literal threw a fit when Jimin wanted to dance with that one other girl.” He justified and you rolled your eyes once more, clearly not accepting defeat. Yoongi swallows hard as you habitually pout your bottom lip clearly not enjoying being accused of letting the green-eyed monster take over you.

“He promised he’d kiss me.” You declared, scrunching your nose in the process.

Losing all sense of logic, Yoongi chuckles darkly, digits digging onto your exposed skin at your waist. “You’re such a brat.”

“Oh, now, I’m a brat?” You whine playfully, exasperated of his accusations. This earned a large gummy smile stretching on his mouth and you were hyperaware of how long it had been since it had been since you two bonded like this. It felt so nostalgic to have him this close, have him be this playful with you. Within that moment, it was blissful - forgetting of who was around you, forgetting about the confession made months ago.

“I missed you, YN.” He sighs blissfully, laughing and leaning forward, bumping foreheads with each other.

“I - I missed you, too.” Both of you had the wides smiles on each others faces. Guffawed laughters shared between your dancing bodies and, at that very moment, you were happy. You are taken back to a time where you two can be effortlessly yourselves with each other. You did not have to analyze your actions and words around him; everything was done purely out of pure desire.

You thought your actions would have no repercussions.

You were taken back to a time where you were two best friends, probably unconsciously in love with each other.

But the realization sets in that this was not some fantasy story. The smiles on your visages disappear very slowly at the realization that you can’t go back to where you had been nearly six months ago. Still having your foreheads pressed against each other, noses bumping with eyes fully pinched shut at the feeling of his hot breath fanning your face.

“I - I have to go find Jimin.” You sigh, itching and craving just to feel the slightest touch of his lip on yours. The DJ announces that there is one measly minute left - one measly minute to go looking for the guy you were supposed to kiss, yet you spent what little seconds you had to be with the guy you could not have.

“YN…” He sighs, opening his eyes. You are met his half-lidded eyes yet you read the desire, desperation, and exhaustion in his irises. “You don’t know how bad I want to kiss you.” Your heart stopped beating at that very moment and when the thirty second countdown begun, your sober consciousness had been screaming at you to pull away from his grip. But, deep inside, you felt your heart swell to a tenfold at his confession.

You had to chant to yourself that he was drunk.

You probably didn’t hear him correctly.

But your mind was no longer playing tricks on you when you feel his mouth move ever so closely, just centimeters away from the skin of your lips and he was a million miles away from you when Jimin saves you and Yoongi a million years of regret. Just in time, Tiffany finally squeezes through the crowd, glad to have found her rightful boyfriend at the perfect moment.

“There you are! I swear I was looking everywhere for you!” Eyes wide, Yoongi controls his breathing as he is faced with the girl he is supposed to be spending the evening with. She smiles unknowingly at him and then at Jimin and yourself. The tension was so thick in the air that you do not have the words to countdown.

“Five, four, three, two — Happy New Year!” Jimin’s gentle hands caresses your cheek and you read the sympathy in his eyes when you see Tiffany tip her toes to place feather-like kisses on Yoongi’s — the lips you desperately sought to feel on yours.

With tears in your eyes, you held them there, but Jimin read you very well. His thumb caresses the corners of your mouth, soothing the familiar pain arising in your chest. “Happy New Year, YN.” He sighs before he leans down to place a very delicate, quick kiss onto your mouth. You savored the comfort of your friend and you pull away only to pull him into a well-deserved hug.

“Happy New Year, Jimin.” He doesn’t let you go when he feels your body go limp in his arms.

“You can just drop me off here.” The Uber driver who sat in front of you came to a slow stop at the curb and you searched through your purse to offer the quiet man a ten dollar bill, offering him a kind smile. “Have a happy new year, sir.”

He thanks you for your gratitude before you carefully exit the vehicle. Your barefoot hitting the cold concrete floor as you clutch onto your heels. You closed the door right behind you as you began the long journey from the entrance of your apartment complex parking lot onto the front door of your unit.

You’ve sobered up a bit, still a bit tipsy from the hard liquor, but you were slowly getting there. The vivid memories of the past hour made your heart swell and shatter all at once as the scene replayed in your head. You knew yourself well enough that if you encountered Yoongi one more time that evening, you would not have been able to stay sane.

Your legs took smaller and slower strides towards your unit and when you begin to fish the keys out of the depths of your clutch, you come to an immediate halt as you see a tall, dark figure hovering around your door. You really needed to have a conversation with the homeowner’s association to add brighter lights at night because suddenly your senses had been heightened at the stranger’s presence.

“E - Excuse me, sir, is there somebody you’re looking for?” Your voice so small yet so familiar to the stranger and he spins around, surprised to see such a familiar face look completely different right before your eyes. “T - Taehyung?”

“You nearly scared the living shit out of me sneaking up on me like that.” The timbre of his voice deep and warm and his hushed tones tickled the back of your neck. He looked so different from the last time you saw him.

His dark long locks slightly curled and messy from, what you can only assume, the holiday festivities. He sported a silk button up t-shirt tucked underneath a pair of dark washed skinny jeans. However, he was wise to wear a large coat around his broad shoulders. However, you raise your brows as he nursed a bottle of champagne on his arm and you tilt your head as you studied the change in appearance.

He was still the same yet he looked like a change man.

“Wh - what are you doing here?”

“Right.” He shook his head, whispering to himself as he offers you a soft grin. “I was in town for work. My flight was supposed to be tomorrow afternoon, but they airline company had to cancel due to some scheduling incident.”

You swallowed hard as you awaited for him to continue his story. Meanwhile, he stood right across from you - this time, he studied the way you presented yourself that evening. Your hair is much longer. He compared the length to the last time you had seen each other. Your skin was paler due to the winter season at its peak. There was less sun and he could only assume that you covered yourself from head to toe. You had lost some weight yet you looked relatively healthy. The bags underneath your eyes seem to sunk deeper onto your skin.

Who knew in a matter of six months so much has changed?

“That - that doesn’t explain why you’re in front of my door step.” You retort shyly, encouraging him to explain himself further.

“I don’t leave for New York in two days.” He swallowed before he held the wine bottle in his hand. “I - I figured I would stop by and say hi.”

His appearance wasn’t the only thing that changed.

The way he spoke to you so shyly as if this was your first time meeting each other. He points towards your door with a look of suggestion. “Can I come in? Who knew the west coast would be so fucking cold?” He practically shivers, surprised to see you able to keep yourself warm. Perhaps due to the alcohol still in your body and you decide to make a move on it as you begin to unlock the apartment only to reveal a semi-presentable living room.

“I apologize for the mess. We were all in a rush to go to this New Year’s Eve party, so we didn’t have a chance to clean ourselves up.” Tossing the keys over to the coffee table, you strip yourself off of your leather jacket to hang it at the coat rack. Thankfully, Hoseok and Michelle left the heating on because you were greeted with warmth and the smell of vanilla and marshmallows in the air when you decide to light a candle to create a homier ambience.

“I see you’re one of those types who decide to wait ’til January to take down their Christmas decorations.” He jeers at you and you chuckle at his comment before you point towards the sofa for him to get comfortable in.

“I am not. Michelle and I put so much effort into actually making this place look good, so why waste our efforts when winter season hasn’t ended?” You counter and he decides to slip the coat right off of his torso and you stare at the slight tug of his collar to expose his translucent skin. “Did you want me to get you a glass for your champagne?”

“You should get yourself one as well because we’re drinking this together.” His forwardness still remained the same and you rolled your eyes before you began searching through the cupboard for decent glasses only to find two pairs of coffee mugs that you and Michelle purchased at Target. When you open the drawer to capture the wine bottle opener, you toss it over to Taehyung who began unwrapping the wine to reveal the cork and he attempts to effortlessly remove the cork with ease.

You amble over to where he sat and you offer him your pink mug which he knits his brows in confusion and you shrug at his reaction only to watch him pour a quarter full of the alcohol into Michelle’s blue mug.

“I probably should have said this when I first saw you, but here’s to a happy new year.” He finishes pouring his own serving before he raises the pink mug for you to clink at and you toast right back to him before you take small sips of the cool champagne, savoring the warmth that coats your throat later. “You said you were at a party.”

You nod at his statement only to place the mug on the coffee table, making yourself comfortable with the space in between the both of you.

“I was.”

“And it’s 1:30 in the morning and you’re home so early?”

“Correct.”

“Why?”

“I just wasn’t feeling it.”

He raises his eyebrows when he takes larger sips of his champagne only for him to lean back and look right at you with curious eyes. “This doesn’t have to do anything with Yoongi, by any chance?”

Trying not to offer him any reaction, you sat there with a neutral expression shaking your head. 

“Nope, not at all.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“I am not lying.” Your pitches increases and he shakes his head, deciding to drop the subject.

“Okay, clearly, you don’t want to discuss Yoongi.” He starts softly before he takes a scoot closer to where you sat. “How is Michelle? I’m pretty sure she still doesn’t like me, but I think it’s polite to inquire about someone who is near and dear to you.”

You erupt in a fit of laughter only for him to offer you a boxy grin and your palm wraps around the expanse of the mug on your lap. “She’s doing well. It turns out she’s been sleeping with Hoseok — I don’t know if you remember him —“

“The choreographer, right?”

“Yup, that one.” You correct before you took small sips of the champagne into your lips, already feeling the familiar buzz earlier that evening. “They’ve been keeping their relationship a secret ever since the beginning of this — oh, well, last year now and we only found out halfway through the year.” You shrugged at the revelation only for him to nod along.

“What about the other two? The chef and that guy I took headshots of for a casting he was trying to do for that one photoshoot?”

“The chef is Seokjin. But he is now a proud owner of a restaurant. It took a lot of investors and a lot of fucking money from his savings account, but the place is doing really well. Jimin is the guy you took headshots of; he’s not an actual model, just something we thought we’d do for fun, but he’s really just an art curator.” You read Taehyung’s face and he is utterly taken aback by Jimin’s career choice.

“Who would’ve thought?” Suddenly, you are presented with an opportunity to view Taehyung from a different perspective.

You didn’t know who was sitting right across from you and you see his mouth move but don’t hear the words coming out of them.

“H - huh?” You stammer, coming to a realization that you appreciated his seemingly interest in your life.

“I was asking if you still worked for that internship you were in since junior year.”

“Uh, yeah, they’ve been training me to be an assistant to the division head of advertising. I wasn’t really expecting to be a candidate, but they figured since I did technically work with them the longest, I sort of know the ropes around the company.” Finishing the remaining contents of your mug, you see Taehyung offer you a proud grin, swiping his tongue right across his rosy petals.

“Just one step closer to being a division head.” He encouraged and you feel warmth flutter in your chest, appreciating just how much he was proud of your achievements.

However, he truly meant it.

He has witnessed all of the trials and tribulations you went through to earn a permanent spot in the company you were currently working at. There was stiff competition, but he was there to remind you that you were worthy to achieve the goals as long as you worked hard. The stress of the internship got the best of you and you could only offer him so much of your time. Whenever he’d tried to offer comfort, half of the time, Taehyung succeeded in alleviating any frustrations. 

But there was always one guy who beat you to it the other half of the time.

You were in denial when Taehyung was curious about the nature of your friendship with Yoongi. 

He tread cautiously when it came to him. But as time went on, he could no longer bite his tongue and keep his thoughts to himself.

He had been your boyfriend at that time and he felt that he had some right to give his opinion regarding your friendship with Yoongi. He didn’t demand much — his time was to implicitly convince you that you possessed the same feelings as Yoongi did to you.

When Taehyung felt like he had enough of your denial and Yoongi’s obvious efforts, he surrendered his position and decided to take a step back, clearly not wanting to be a part of a cat and mouse game.

But he was a victim of it.

He wasn’t the same man he was the beginning of the year, though.

He’s more solemn and more accepting. He was more conscious of other’s feelings and perspective of things — he had a better understanding of others and he’s definitely had a better understanding of you.

Downing the rest of the alcoholic beverage inside the pastel-colored mug, Taehyung settles it at the coffee table before he runs his long digits through his textured hair.

“So what’s the real reason why you’re home, YN?”

The silence was overwhelming, but you find comfort in his presence. It wasn’t intimidating despite the way his eyes examined your much smaller frame from head to toe as you took measly sips from your own mug.

Was there even a point in lying?

“Yoongi said he wanted to kiss me.”

“Did you want to kiss him?”

Surprised with your speedy response, you nodded once, realizing the grip around the circumference of the mug.

“But you didn’t, right? You’re not like that.”

You shook your head silently and, now, you’re met with the familiar swell around your throat like somebody had been choking you gently, forcing you to hold onto your last breath.

“I — I would never do that, but… if Jimin didn’t come and save the day, I — I think we would have gotten into a seriously sticky situation.” The memory of Yoongi’s body against yours, the heat of his breath and words fanning against your scarlet face, and the scent of his cologne and cherries off of his skin — Tiffany’s scent. “It can’t happen again.”

“What’d Jimin do?”

“He kissed me instead.”

Raising one brow at you, he pokes the tip of his tongue to swiped across his thick petals.

“Jimin kissed you?”

You nodded once.

“Is this another guy I was supposed to be worried about?” He jokes which earned a song-like chortle erupting from your throat. The sound of your laughter spreads a warmth deep inside this chest. He enjoyed the way your voice filled with so much hope and how your worries were stripped away from you when you giggled.

“He promised he’d kiss me at the countdown.” Your statement earned a chuckle from him and he shakes his head, ridiculing your request. “I didn’t want to be the only who didn’t have anyone to kiss.”

“I didn’t have anyone to kiss at the countdown.” Taehyung simply states and you forced yourself not to stare at his lips but you, obviously, fail at this because he catches you red-handed at the instinctive motion. Your irises immediately shoot to his mouth and you swallow hard.

“You didn’t kiss anybody.”

“Not yet at least.”

You despised the cocky sneer on his face, rolling your eyes as you grabbed a cushion and shoving it in his face.

“I was kidding, I was kidding!” A hearty laughter erupts from the depths of his stomach.

But you did miss his cocky personality. It was a playful side of him and his comments seemed very much nostalgic of when you had first met him. When the fits of laughter settled into a comforting silence, he clears his throat when you see his boxy smile disappear into a more calming position. “Okay, hypothetically speaking, if I said I wasn’t kidding,“ He admits before he swiped his tongue across his mouth to wet his lips. “Would you kiss me right now? Be my first kiss for the year?”

The way the tone of his voice change in a millisecond knocks you out of your seat. You’re aware that you’re holding your breath as you examine his features for the umpteenth time that evening.

Did you want to kiss him?

“That depends.”

“Depends on what?”

Is he single? Was he seeing someone in New York?

“Are you seeing anybody?”

“I haven’t had time to meet anybody, YN.” He scoots his frame closer to where you sat whilst he leans his upper body closer to your smaller face.

Does he expect anything to happen that evening?

“If I do kiss you, are you expecting we go further?”

“Depends on the kiss.” He was so quick to his replies as if he’s thought this moment so many times in his heads.

Has he imagined this moment?

He takes his sweet time leaning in to your face. All throughout this tantalizing moment, he hovers over your lips careful not to touch your skin on yours. The smell of vanilla lingers from your skin and your breath smells of champagne.

“You want to kiss me?”

“If I say yes, would that change your decision?"

You thought about it for a moment before the tip of his nose collides very softly against yours and you can’t help but chuckle at the action, scrunching your nose in the process.

“Hm, I’m not so sure.” Your playful tone gave Taehyung further encouragement to lean in closer, just two lips barely brushing against each other.

Eyes half-lidded with so much fondness for you. He stares lovingly into your eyes before they fall on the two petals threatening to pucker against his own. The comfort that emerged from his chest so familiar to him.

“You didn’t say please.” You teased.

He breathes a chuckle fanning your face in the process.

“YN,” He starts as he pulls away very slowly from your face, missing the warmth of his own breath on your face. “Would you do me the honor of being my first kiss for the year, please?”

A series of laughter fills the room and Taehyung could care less if you said yes or if you had said no because it was more than enough for him to see that he has made your night somewhat better and you appreciated the way he helped you completely forget Yoongi — at least for the past 15 minutes, he’s helped you completely forget Yoongi.

“Yes, Taehyung, I would be delighted to be your first kiss of the year.” The sounds of your laughter soon fade into silence. You sat still where you were positioned and Taehyung froze in a subtle manner as he examined you from your eyes down to your lips.

His digits tickled the skin on your cheek to the back of your neck and an eruption of goosebumps appear on your skin.  You emitted one breath that visibly fans his face before you flutter your eyes closed as you feel his pillowy petals on your own.

There was a hesitance from both your mouths. Your touch on his felt so fragile, afraid that the slightest addition of pressure onto your mouth would have you falling apart. The tickle and warmth of his fingers caressing the skin of your cheek allowed you to relax and lean in forward into the kiss. Taehyung took this as a sign that you were enjoying this so much more than usual. He pokes his tongue momentarily, tasting the bitter flavor of the champagne lingering in your mouth. A sigh erupts from your mouth and the conscious voice in your head tells you to pull away before things go further — before you do anything you regret.

“Taehyung,” You swallow every ounce of desire when you attempt to peel your body off of his. “We can’t do this again. We’re different now.” He nods his head in agreement, swiping his tongue across the expanse of his mouth. “We’re different, but that doesn’t mean my feelings for you has changed.” You were left speechless; mouth open with no words slipping between your lips. “We’ve changed for the better, YN.” Hesitant at first, Taehyung musters all the courage to reach for your fragile digits that laid upon your thigh. First, he fiddled with the pad of your fingers before he laces them around his hands.

“I’m not this college asshole boyfriend who controls over every aspect of your life.” He confesses looking into your eyes. “Just give me one more shot, YN. I can show you that I’m better.”

“But I — I don’t think I’ve changed for the better, Tae.” You feel your fingers unlacing away from his and you could feel your heart drop on the floor. “I don’t even know if I’m ready for another chance in any sort of relationship.” It came out as a scrutinizing joke, but it was the cruel truth you had to face.

The silence was a little too overwhelming for your liking.

You were thankful the silence wasn’t as uncomfortable to him as it were to you. Because the pad of his index finger lifts your chin up and his eyes meets your once again. “You’re still in love with him, aren’t you?”

Choosing not to reply to his answer, you did not want your face to give away any sort of response for him, so you chewed on the inside of your cheek looking into his eyes.

“You — you don’t have to answer that. It’s not fair.”

His thumb caresses your cheek so softly and you savor the warmth of his palm on your skin. It was such a comforting gesture and he tucked the strand of hair behind your ear, hoping it was enough to soothe you.

“I can never have him.” You realize and his eyes meet your glassy irises. “We can never be together.” Unsure of whether this is your inebriated consciousness enabling you to think out loud, but you chew on the inside of your cheek as you focus on something else other than the salty tears building in your eyes.

Taehyung remains silent across from you and you can’t blame the guy. What was he supposed to say to you?

“I’m happy for him though.” You attempt to convince yourself when you feel his hot thumb at the corner of your lip.

“I’m glad you’re happy for him, but are you happy?” He reassures you, swallowing hard. “You’re amazing, YN. It pains me to see you like this. Even after all these months, it seems like you’re numb to the pain. If not me, there is someone out there very much willing to be with you.” Unsure of what to reply to him, you can’t help but offer him a meek grin. “I appreciate that, Tae.” He sighs as you finally got a hold of yourself, relieved to see that he has brightened up your mood even if it is for the slightest bit.

He pulls you into his arms to wrap his large arms around you and you can’t help but appreciate his warm embrace by slithering your arms around his as well. “Any guy would kill to have you.” He whispers as he pecks your forehead, digits combing through your silky hair.

You melt in the comfort of his arms and you feel your lids slowly flutter shut. The steady rise and low of his chest indicate that he is just as comfortable as he is with the embrace.

“I — I should probably get going now.” He announces very softly, hoping not to disturb your tranquility.

“I, uh, yeah. It’s getting late, huh?” You sigh and you slowly peel yourself once again from his embrace.

“It is.”

“How’d you get here? Did you want me to get an Uber for you or something?”

“No, I — I drove here.” You see him slowly lift himself up from the sofa and fish the car keys out of his pocket, carefully folding the blazer jacket he had on earlier.

“You’re not drunk.”

“Not the slightest bit.”

“I don’t believe you.” The crease on your brow exhibited concern over your former partner’s safety.

“I’ll be fine, YN.”

“I don’t want to risk you driving home when you’re tipsy. You could get pulled over or you could get into a little fender bender or you could —“

“Then what do you suggest I do?” Taehyung’s folds his arms, raising a brow at your rambling.

“Spend the night.”

The softness and warmth of your mattress had managed to keep you toasty throughout the frosty winter morning. You curl up onto your pillow and stretch only to open your eyes and discover your naked body entangled with the linen sheets underneath your frame. Swallowing hard, the notable fatigue from your encounter with Taehyung is evident in your inner thighs and the unpleasantries of a morning hangover soon rakes over your brain.

You slowly rise from where you lay only to find the other side of your bed to be completely tattered. Pillows clearly slept on and your clothes folded over by the foot of your bed. You blush at the thought of Taehyung gather all of your tattered clothing early in the morning only for him to sneakily depart from your household.

However, the smell of bacon soon emerge from the other side of the door and you are lured by the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. A muffled conversation is being held right next door and you scramble to search for a clean pair of pajamas to keep you warm and decent for your appearance that morning.

Creaking open your bedroom door to enter your living room into the kitchen, you are perplexed to see a shirtless Taehyung wearing a pair of plaid pajamas with a white t-shirt on himself. But what truly catches you off-guard is Hobi offering Taehyung a mug while he pours himself a hearty cup of coffee while Michelle cracks open the egg in a pool of bacon grease.

“How many did you guys have to drink?” Hobi curiously interrogates Taehyung.

“All we had was the champagne and we may have finished the last bits of tequila.” Michelle makes a face that contorts into disgust and you agree because you recall the burn of the spirit down your throat.

“Speak of the devil,” Michelle’s eyes darts over your confused state. “Good morning, sunshine. I’m making your eggs how you like it; drenched in bacon fat.”

Unaware of the strange situation right in front of you, you amble towards the cupboard where you grab yourself a mug, redirecting it towards Hobi signaling to pour yourself a cup as well. Unsure of what to really say currently, you take careful sips of the hot caffeine into your mouth. Your eyes meet Taehyung who can’t seem to read your expression well. Your brows knit together at how Michelle and Hoseok had manage to treat having Taehyung over at your household as a normal occurrence.

You were expecting Michelle to be kicking the poor soul out of the apartment. But here he was standing sharing a cup of coffee and sharing stories with your roommate and her boyfriend — your two best friends.

“A — alright, what the fuck is going on? Morning afters with him always end up a disaster.” Michelle raises both her brows at you and Taehyung can’t help but chuckle to himself as he swallows his cup of joe.

“Oh, c’mon, YN. I’m not that evil now, am I? It’s the new year, I don’t want to be rude to our first guest of the year.” She reaches for a clean plate before she offers you two cooked eggs with a slice of bacon and toast on the side. “Please eat. You need carbs in your system because Taehyung tells me you guys didn’t drink enough water before you two went to bed which is why I have these for you.” Popping open the lid of a painkillers, she offers you the proper dosage. Taking the two small pills into your mouth before you swallow them dry, you knit your brows further still attempting to understand the complexity of the predicament you have found yourself in. You take a sit on the stool where Taehyung seems to be sitting.

“How do you like your eggs, Taehyung?”

“Scrambled, please.”

Michelle then cracks two eggs into the pan before she hastily scrambled the eggs into the pan, hoping it would be enough to satiate his appetite.

“Where did you get these? I’m pretty sure I returned all your clothes that I have lying around here.”

“They’re Hoseok’s.” Taehyung simply answers. “I hope you don’t mind, but I used your robe to get a glass of water earlier this morning and — uh, he offered to let me use some spare clothes he had lying around your apartment, so I figured it’d be better than using your robe.” He chuckles and Hoseok laughs along with him as well.

“Yeah, man, I don’t know when you have to fly back to New York, but just leave it here when you’re done.”

“Thanks.” He expresses simply before Michelle places two slices of cooked bacon and the rest of the scrambled eggs on the side along with a slice of toast.

“Eat up, you two. You guys didn’t really drink much, but you weren’t hydrated enough before you two went to bed.” Michelle sighs. “It’s the basics of hangover prevention! I expect you guys to learn from this.” She scolds once more and you begin diving into your breakfast, shoveling the heated breakfast placed right in front of you.

Unaware of the conversation Hobi started between him and Taehyung, off of the corner of your eyes, you see Michelle excuse herself to her room. However, she shoots you a look before she enters inside your room — a signal for you to excuse yourself as well. “Um, I’m going to go look for my phone really quickly.” You conjure up an excuse before you lift yourself off of the bar stool and scramble over to your bedroom where you had caught Michelle awaiting for your presence inside your bedroom.

“Okay, I know it looks bad.” Her eyes had scanned your room, but you were tight lip when you see that your room had been relatively neat and organized. Your outfit and Taehyung’s attire from the previous night had been folded at the foot of your bed while his side of the bed had been tidied up. However, you were very much aware of the ripped up condom packet at the nightstand which gave an indication of your rendezvous.

“But I’m sure it was because we were drunk.” You lied through your teeth.

“He told me he wasn’t drunk.”

You stood silent and you chewed on your cheek.

“He wasn’t drunk?” You questioned.

“Did you think he was drunk?”

“I — I wasn’t drunk.” You confessed with blushed cheeks, unaware that Taehyung had lied about being drunken the previous night.

“So you were both sober?”

You shook your head, swallowing hard when you sat on your bed. “I was… buzzed, perhaps. But I honestly thought he had been drunk and I convinced myself that I didn’t want him anymore, but I think I was just trying to find an excuse to be with him again.” Michelle nods in agreement, wide-eyed at your justification. “He wants you back, YN.”

“You don’t know that.” You counter.

“I caught him in our kitchen this morning, YN.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion.

“He was naked.”

Your brows raised at once.

“I was, too.”

You sputtered at your thoughts and couldn’t help but escape a cackle, hoping it would lighten up the awkward with your roommate.

“I’m serious, YN! Do you know how embarrassing it is to walk out and see him butt naked in our kitchen looking for water?” You can’t help but continued chortling to yourself, clutching onto your robe. “I ran back in my room, telling Hobi to give him a pair of pajamas! The poor thing didn’t have anything to sleep!” Tears began swelling at the corners of your eyes and you grinned from ear to ear at her story.

Michelle nudged you playfully before she sat right next to you, settling into the comforts of your queen sized mattress. “When we were both decent, he said something along the lines of me hating him so much that I should probably leave the apartment.”

Your grin disappears at his statement, surprised to hear the statement leave her lips. “I was this close to calling an Uber back to his hotel.” Michelle sighs before she closes her eyes and you chew on your cheek, seeing that she is about to reveal something she wasn’t expecting. “But he said that he had a late Christmas present for you in the car.” You raise your brows, still confused about the statement. “And then he asked — very politely, may I add — if he could leave a painkiller and a glass of water by your nightstand, just to make sure you don’t suffer searching for the damn thing like you always do when you’re hang over.”

There is a giddiness at the depths of your chest that made the corner of your mouth twitch into a weak grin.

“He never did that before.” Michelle sighs as she stares at the ceiling. “You both just fuck and then he sneaks out in the morning. I catch up him so many times leaving your room and he doesn’t say a word — doesn’t really give a shit about you.” Inhaling deeply when she turns to look at you, you turn to look her in the eye as well. “He asked me if he was allowed to spend the night… just to make sure you were okay when you woke up.”

You immediately turn away from her profile, this time, you stare at the ceiling. “It’s different now because it seems like he seems to give a shit about you, YN.” She concludes and you begin to nibble at your supple bottom lip, concerned at her thoughts. “It could be some kind of facade. But, when you talk to him, he’s not… that bad.”

You agree with her statement and tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Are you guys planning on getting back together or what?”

You shrug at her statement, attempting to piece the puzzle together as well. “We haven’t really discussed it. All I remember is we had our second shot and everything sort of… unravelled itself. One thing led to another and we couldn’t help ourselves from then on.” You whisper ever so softly, afraid that he would overhear your vulnerable thoughts. “It was… different last night; too raw to reply, to be honest.” You sigh in bliss and you try to shake your head back to reality. 

“I… I really don’t want to discuss anything — I don’t want to establish something we’re both not ready to handle, you know?”

She nods and gives you a meek grin, proud that you were — at least — attempting to take your time with your decision and your feelings regarding the current predicament.

Pushing yourself up from where you laid on your bed, you offer your hand for Michelle to get up from your mattress as well. “C’mon, who knows what Hobi is telling about me? I’d like to defend myself, you know.” You were hasty to your door when you hear a booming laughter come from the kitchen.

Ready to turn the knob of your bedroom door, you hear Michelle call out your name.

“YN,” she begins and you turn to her, wondering what else she has to say. “Believe it or not, but you’re glowing. That’s how I know it’s different.”

The muffled trickling of keys from outside immediately dropped the current conversation to hushed whispers. Because not only could you hear the muffled sounds of keys rattling outside your door, but you could also hear the sounds of Jin’s whining from your front door.

“I already told you guys before we left I left my key at my fucking place before we left to get the donuts. I don’t understand why I’m getting all the blame.” He hisses at somebody and you stand up from where you sat right next to Taehyung, folding your arms as you await for him to open the door.

“Because I texted you before I left to bring your keys, hyung. You’ve been boasting how you only have access to YN and Michelle’s apartment considering I’ve been revoked of my fucking keys because I threw that Friendsigivng at their place when they went back to visit their parents and left their place completely trashed.” He rattled the keys unlocking the first knob and attempting to jiggle the key into the other lock. “And Yoongi-hyung says he lost his, so you were the only one with keys!”

“Stop arguing, you imbeciles.” Yoongi grumbles before the door swings open slowly only to see Taehyung completely stop mid conversation at the presence of Jin, Jimin, Tiffany who held balloons that spelled out ‘Congratulations!’ and, finally, Yoongi who held the two stereotypical pink boxes that most likely contained donuts.

“Oh, shit, we didn’t think you guys would be up this fucking early.” Jimin scans the room to see Hobi already working on the dishes, Michelle is sat on the other end of the section sofa while Taehyung sat comfortably on the other end. However, you were busy tidying up the kitchen along with Hobi.

“And we have a new face!” Tiffany’s dulcet tones follows a cumbersome tension in the entire room. At this point, everyone is fully aware of your previous feelings for Yoongi and his feelings for yours.

To have Tiffany acknowledge Taehyung’s presence somehow is much better than any of the three acknowledging him because she reaches over to extend her arm while introducing herself. 

“I’m Tiffany — Yoongi’s girlfriend. Sorry for barging in just like that. I just get really excited meeting new people, s’all.”

Taehyung stands from where he sat and extends his arms shaking her hand as a response and nodding along to acknowledge Jin, Jimin, and Yoongi. “I’ve heard about you from YN. It’s nice to meet you.” He darts his eyes towards you raising his brows only for you to blush scarlet, avoiding any eye contact with your three other best friends.

“It’s been — what? Nearly a year since we’ve seen you, Taehyung.” Jin clearly forces a smile trying to keep the atmosphere as friendly as possible. Jimin already quite familiar with Taehyung’s personality and reads the expression of Michelle’s faces that she has seemed to be completely unfazed by his presence. However, her eyes pay close attention to Yoongi’s tense jaw as he examined the man at the center of the room.

“In case you didn’t know, Tiffany, I — I’ve dated YN for a while.” He clears the air, hoping to break the sudden tension in the room and you shake your head at his sheer audacity. However, it did bring some sort of relief to the situation. He always seemed like the type not to hide anything. He was transparent for the right reasons. There was nothing really to hide at this point. 

“Which is why everyone is so surprised to see me here… again.”

“Oh, I see.” Tiffany concludes, nibbling on her bottom lip and silence fills the air. But you come to the realization that you were questioning why the four new guests were somehow invited to your household.

“Hold on, what are we celebrating? What’s with the balloons and donuts?” You raise the question only for everyone to go wide-eyed before Taehyung tilts his head nonchalantly.

“Didn’t Michelle tell you in your bedroom earlier?” Taehyung scratches his head but the perplexes expression painted on your face answered it for him.

“Oh my god, YN, please don’t tell me you haven’t taken a long at Michelle’s goddamn hand.” Jin practically scolds and your eyes shoot over to where Michelle had scurried off to Hobi and you catch sight of the bright, shining diamond gracing her ring finger and you feel the high pitched screech erupt from your hand at the top of your lungs, running over to Michelle.

“I swear to god, Hobi! I didn’t think you had the fucking guts to do it!” You yelp at the newly engaged couple right in front of you. You leaped into the arms of Michelle and Hobi, bursting with so much joy that you couldn’t contain the grin that stretched from ear to ear right across your face.

“Alright, how much do we owe you, Taehyung?” Michelle nudges at Hobi and Taehyung shoves his hands in the depths of the sweatpants he wore.

“Ten bucks each, so twenty.”

“Wh —“

“We made a bet to see how long you’d figure out. Hobi thought you’d notice straight away, I thought you’d notice once breakfast was done and you would help clean up around the house, and Taehyung said you wouldn’t notice until someone gave it away.” You rolled your eyes at the three of them, immediately nudging Taehyung’s side only to have him wrap an arm around your neck, resting his arm on your shoulder while he nestles his head on top of yours.

“You guys suck, you know that?” You grumble only for Jimin to search through all your cupboards, searching for something around the kitchen. “Jimin-ssi, what are you looking for?”

“Wine.” He sighs only to be defeated to see the empty bottles by the end of the counter. “You guys must have been completely blacked out if you finished that all to yourself.”

“It wasn’t just me. Taehyung had some to drink too.”

“Plus, it’s not like we drank it all at once.” He clarifies only for Jin to realize that Yoongi had raised a single brow at the statement, already shoving a donut inside his mouth to keep himself busy, unable to distract himself from the old flame right in front of his eyes.

“We need a toast, you guys! We’re at that age where we have friends who are engaged.” Jimin emphasized only to look through the refrigerator only to find a gallon of milk along with orange juice and he sets the gallon of milk, grabbing 8 glasses from the cabinets to pour them in each. 

“Alright, everyone, grab a donut.”

Jin flips open both boxes only to reveal the heavenliest of donuts before everyone’s eyes only for you to grab a chocolate donut and grabbing a glass of milk to hold up. “Tiffany, honey, I know your resolution was to make healthier choices, but we can always go for a run right after this. It’s a special occasion.”

Everyone couldn’t help but laugh at Tiffany’s reluctance to reach for a donut, but she grabs the smallest out of the bunch before she grabs a glass of milk to herself. At the corner of your eye, you had caught a glimpse of Yoongi’s arms circling around her waist, nuzzling his nose into her hair before he places a single kiss on her head.

There is a hot swell on your throat as you look away only to feel a heated pressure at the small of your back to see Taehyung reach for the same donut as you and you offer him a glass of milk for him.

“To Michelle and Hobi-hyung,” Jimin starts only for everyone to clink their glasses, sharing a toast. “Who knew that YN and Yoongi would be the ones traumatized to witness you two butt-naked on this very spot?” His hands pats on the kitchen countertop and makes an atrocious reaction at the realization of their sweating bodies on the marbled counter top. “I must admit, I cannot believe I’m saying this, but we cannot wait to witness even more naked shenanigans from you two.”

An eruption of laughter fills the atmosphere and there is a sense of tranquility and solidarity with all of the dynamics of each and every individual in the room. When each person takes one large gulp of the milk, you all take a bite of the soft donuts only for Michelle and Hobi to share a delicate and sweet kiss.

There is a tug to your side where Taehyung pulls you closer only to watch him devour the rest of his donut and he drinks the rest of his milk. A milk mustache forms on his lips and you wipe it off with your thumb, chortling at his playful personality.

Suddenly, the ache in your chest numbs down to a bare strangle.

And, for once, your eyes aren’t locked on him.

“Hey, uh, congratulations again for getting engaged and all.” Taehyung awkwardly interrupts the conversation between Michelle and Hoseok only for Michelle to raise her brows at him. “Thanks for — you know, earlier this morning.” He scratched the back of his head as you observe him from afar.

“You mean, not kicking you out?”

Taehyung nods and you fold your arms, watching the dynamic between your roommate and your former partner unravel before your eyes. There was a glint of hope in the way her eyes traveled from head to toe and the desire for his eyes not to meet hers.

“You’re starting to grow on me, Taehyung-ie.” The man before you purses his lips and nods once at her final conclusion. You are confused, but — ultimately — curiouser about what the two have conversed about before you had awaken from your deep slumber. “Pretty sure YN will have you as her plus one for our wedding.” From the corner of her eye, Michelle glances at you before she winks over at him and he responds with a forced chuckle. “However, if you two have a repeat of your previous encounters, then I’ll be sending you an invitation, nevertheless.”

He looks up at her scratches the corner of his brow with a sly grin across his visage. “Well, let’s hope I won’t be getting one.” He implied causing a few stares from some listeners in your humble abode. A blush creeping on your cheeks at the realization that he had intentions of making sure that you two would not end up in this endless cycle of make-up and break-up. “Say goodbye to everybody, Taehyung, because I’m walking you to your car.” As you capture his wrist around your fingers, he merely waves a goodbye to everyone, sending his pleasantries to all the people he had met and to Tiffany who he had the pleasure of being introduced to. With the muffled goodbyes on the other side of the apartment, you close the front door right behind you before you begin stomping over to where the guest parking had been at your apartment complex.

“What — what did you mean by all of that?” You jumped straight onto the topic, not wanting to prolong the conversation.

“Do you have plans tonight?” You shake your head no and with a crest of your brow, he tucks a strand of a stray hair behind your ear.

“Have dinner with me tonight.” He requests and you swallow at his statement. “I told you. I’m leaving tomorrow afternoon. I would like to spend the last day here with an old friend.”

“Flame. Old flame.” You correct him.

“Ah, right.” He merely chuckles but you push past him, pacing back and forth at the parking lot, trying to get a better understanding of the predicament you both were in.

“Why is Michelle being so nice to you? And what did you talk about with her —“

“Why don’t you go and ask her for yourself?”

“She — she won’t tell me.” You sighed, rolling your eyes in the process.

“Then have dinner with me tonight. Have you been to that new sushi restaurant downtown?”

“I — uh, no, I haven’t had the time to try it out.” You grumble chewing on the inside of your cheek, awaiting for his response.

“Then I’ll pick you up at 7 tonight, dear. If you really don’t want to go, just shoot me a text.” He unlocks his car and he begins his journey over to where he had parked. “If you’re in anyway interested, wear something comfortable.”

You stood there glued to the asphalt of the parking lot floors as he hops inside his vehicle, turning the engine on. You shake your head in disbelief at the audacity for him to leave you even more confused than ever; expecting to get answers, instead, you were given more questions and inquiries running at a hundred miles an hour racking in your brain. You amble back to your apartment unit lethargically, trying to add two and two together before you see a figure standing outside of the front door of your apartment unit only to recognize it was Yoongi.

“Please don’t tell me they locked us out.”

“No, uh, we’re fine.” Yoongi merely grumbles and you fold your arms, hugging yourself for warmth as you feel the freezing breeze brush past your thin pajamas. “I was just curious about —“

“About?”

“Why he’s suddenly crawling back to you?”

Taken aback by his choice of words, you choose not to meet his eyes and they soon land on his shoes and your fuzzy slippers. The proximity of his stance from yours relatively distant from each other.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Yoongi.”

“Oh, c’mon, YN, you were doing so well. I haven’t seen Taehyung in months — you were doing well without him.” Knitting your brows at his estimation, there is a lock on your jaw when you realize that Yoongi had no idea of your encounter with Taehyung.

He was aware that you two had seen each other, but he wasn’t made aware of the gory details that occurred. As a matter of fact, it was only Michelle who really discovered of your encounter with Taehyung.

“I was doing well because I was desperate for a distraction, Yoongi.” You breathed out without hesitation, mustering up every ounce of courage in your system to look him straight in the eye. 

“It may seem like I’m doing well — I earned a permanent position at my job, got promoted, and now I’m a possible candidate for another promotion. But that’s because I forced myself into this lifestyle, Yoongi. I forced myself to suppress any emotion I felt.”

He stood still frozen as he gazed right into your eyes. The clench in his jaw indicated that there was an obvious tension between the both of you.

“With or without Taehying, I wasn’t doing well, Yoongi.” You admitted and gnawed on the inside of your cheeks. “I was just findings ways to… not self-destruct.”

“You will if you go back to him.”

“He’s different now.” You defend and see the tinge of annoyance in Yoongi’s pretty face.

“Don’t be silly, YN. I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

“Well, that’s just something we gotta get used to, I guess.” You grumble in annoyance as your teeth clatter against each other because of the cold.

“Stop being so stubborn. He doesn’t deserve another chance.”

You’re starting to grow annoyed at his words and you walk towards your front door, grabbing the knob. “Yoongi, I understand you’re my best friend, but don’t you think I’m doing this in an attempt to get over you?”

Glued to the cement, he is as a still as a statue at your response.

“I see you’re happy, Yoongs, so I’m going to try to be happy too.” 

After hours of scouring through your wardrobe to find something “comfortable” for your date with Taehyung, you settled upon a black bodysuit that is tucked underneath a faux leather skirt. You complemented the outfit with a pair of stockings and knee high boots along with a blazer in case the location of the date was far more fancier than the usual.

But the blazer was absolutely unnecessary.

When Taehyung had picked you up from your quaint unit, he wore a black turtle neck along with a pair of black skinny jeans complemented with a long trench coat to protect him from the chilly weather.

He informs you that a colleague of his is still holding a viewing session of his photography collection in a near by art gallery which piqued your interest. Relieved to hear that you were more than interested with the idea of the exhibition, you two listened intently to his colleague present the final viewing session before you two ventured together.

Of course, Taehyung guided you through the exhibited admiring the angle and the perspective his colleague had decided on. You would listen intently, enjoying the decent moscato served. There is a familiar warmth in depths of your abdomen, not from the wine, but from the way his beautiful digits tangled along with manicured ones.

After the viewing session, he had reserved a spot by the new sushi restaurant you heard your co-workers discuss every month or so. You decided to order the quintessential edamame where you two would pick at the pods and pop each bean into your mouth while you two decided upon what to try. You were both interested in the different rolls they had to offer, popping each roll into your mouth in a split second.

“Holy fuck, you need to try this one.” He would say. You witness the way he effortlessly picks up the roll and hovers it by your lips and you open your mouth allowing him to pop the small morsel upon your tongue.

When you would close your mouth and start chewing, he would nod happily only to begin diving into a different roll.

The dinner ends when the both of you are sufficiently tapped out. However, to your surprise, there is a gelato boutique next door to the sushi bar and you persuade Taehyung that you would pay for his gelato since he had paid for dinner.

He takes up the offer.

You both request for a piccolo sized gelato. He ordered an agostino which was an Argentinian dulce de leech. Meanwhile, you were taken aback by the charcoal vanilla which you ultimately grew to love.

When you get the order you had both requested, Taehyung mysteriously jerks his heads outside only for you to follow behind him as he looks both ways to cross the street.

“Where are we going?” You grumble, struggling to catch up with him.

“We’re going for a walk.”

“Why are you going so fast?”

“Maybe you’re too slow.”

“Well, slow down for me, will you?” He chuckles at your whines and you began scooping the gelato into your mouth, allowing it to melt inside your mouth.

“Taste good?” He hums before he shovels a large scoop of his gelato inside his. You nod at once. Your eyes settling on this cup and he moves it closer to you, nudging for you to try the agostino. You take a small scoop and place it on your tongue to taste the overtly sweet creaminess.

“Here, try mine.” You switch cups and while you mindlessly shovel more of his gelato into your mouth. Taehyung pauses, grins at the way your eyes glisten, despite the lack of light underneath the night sky.

He takes small shovels of your flavor into his mouth as you two amble around the block. He could really get used to this.

The conversation that you two participated in had been interrupted by the high pitched tone in the depths of her purse. She hands you back the small cup before she fishes the phone, unlocking it.

He enjoys the way the bright light shines upon your smiling face.

However, his brows knit into one when he watches your beautiful smile drop into a frown. The inflection of confusion is evident in the way the crinkle in your eyes disappear and the furrow of your brows are put together.

“What is it?” He inquires and you lock your phone, not hastily, but you shake your head, offering him a grin to ease his worries. “Did something happen?”

“No, no. It’s nothing to worry about, to be honest.”

But you were lying — to yourself and to him.

“Who was it that texted you?”

You didn’t want to have to lie some more to him, so you decide to take smaller scoops of your gelato. Suddenly, you had lost your appetite. “It was Michelle.”

“What’d she say, if you don’t mind me asking?”

You paused momentarily, debating on whether you should answer him truthfully or not. There was nothing to hide at this point. Taehyung knew about your predicament with Yoongi. 

However, would it be wise to disclose him on Yoongi’s stance between your renunion with the man right in front of you?

“She told me Yoongi had called Hoseok.. wondering where I was.”

“What’d he say?”

“He didn’t say anything. He wanted to consult with me, first.”

“You didn’t answer.”

“I’m on a date with you. It’d be rude of me to just text them, suddenly.”

The corner of his lips twitch to a weak grin. However, he understands your uncertainty of the predicament.

“You’re not sure what to do. You’re afraid if you tell Yoongi the truth, he’d be disappointed because we’re, hypothetically, together. But if you hide this from him, you’d feel like an awful friend for hiding such a big thing from him.” Taehyung voices out the dilemma and you shake your head, swallowing the heaviness of the situation.

“Taehyung, we are on a date.” You conclude and stop on your tracks, chewing on the inside of your cheeks. “As your date, my attention will solely be on you.” He appreciates the way you are approaching things. However, he stops you in front of you, eyes leveling with yours.

“And, as your date, I want you to have a good time and, clearly, you seeing that text dampened your mood.” You remained straight faced with him, losing all appetite for the Italian dessert laying on the palm of your hand. “I care about how you feel, YN. You can talk to me.”

He lifts his hands to caress your cheeks. The thumb nudging at the corner of your mouth to encourage a grin to appear on your visage. “Taehyung, the past two hours I’ve been with you, I — I have never felt this good about myself in a  while.” You confess and he stops caressing your cheeks, pained to see that you sincerely have not been satisfied for the past six months you had not seen each other.

“A part of me is happy to hear that. But the other absolutely despises the fact that you’ve been suffering for this long.” There was a heat suffocating you on your throat and you grit your teeth, forcing yourself to hold back the water works.

“It’s true though and I want to savor every moment I have left with you. I don’t know when I’m going to see you again, so I’m going to be in the moment with you.” You conclude, not wanting to discuss your current dilemma with him — not because you didn’t want to discuss it with him, but because you were spending every moment with him on a ticking clock.

Unable to control himself any longer, Taehyung leans down to firmly press his mouth onto yours. Petals enveloping your own and the heat of his tongue swipes across your lower lip to express just how truly touched he was by your words. His hand cupping your profile and swiping away your flying hair against the cool wind.

Eyes half-lidded with warmth and pleasure, you return the action with as much fervor as he had originally began with. His tongue tasted of the milky treat and you were growing addicted to the taste of the gelato. Careful not to spill any of the melted gelato onto him, you are already slithering your arms around his figure, pulling away to gasp for air.

“As much as I’d like to do so much more than kiss you,” Taehyung was the first to speak between the both of you. He tucks a strand of your hair behind ear and caresses the softness of your cheeks. “It’s starting to get a little late and I have an early flight tomorrow.” He sighs sadly, staring right into your eyes.

A small pout has formed upon your face and you decide that perhaps it’s best you both stop now.

“Time flies by when you’re having too much fun.” At your simple statement, Taehyung leans down and pecks your mouth delicately. His thumb nudging at the corner of your mouth.

“C’mon, let’s get you home.” He announces and you can’t help but agree with him. Delicate digits lace themselves around his skinny, beautiful ones as you both walk back to where he had originally parked.The entire ride back to your humble abode you spent the entire time singing many throwback love ballads at the top of your lungs. Two empty gelato cup nestled in between your thighs while you harmonized with Taehyung’s beautiful baritone voice.

He steers left and enters your apartment complex where you both try to calm your giddiness by lowering the volume of the radio. He pulls right in front of your building and you turn to him when he puts it on park and he bites his lip when he looks at you.

“I had an amazing time, YN.” Taehyung declares and you nod, blushing. “Who knew we would start off the new year together, huh?” He can’t hold himself from cupping your face and kissing your cheek, returning back his initiation by deepening the kiss.

“I had a good time too.” You sigh into his mouth and are reminded of your previous encounters the night before. “A — Are you sure you don’t want to come inside?”

“As much as I’d love to extend my evening, but I really need to get some packing done and get an early night in considering I’ll be traveling all day.” You were satisfied with his answer. Though, initially, you were upset he wouldn’t ease your desires, you were glad that you both were taking it gradually slow.

At least this time, you were taking it slow.

“I know it may be too soon, but do you know when I get to see you again?” He pulls away momentarily to think back. “I’m not quite sure. I do travel every other week because it’s part of the job. Most of the time, it’s here in Los Angeles, but it’s not a hundred percent guarantee.”

“I understand.” You replied and his grin softens when he lays his eyes on your mouth once again, placing the gentlest of kisses on your soft petals. “I guess I’ll see you whenever I can then.” His fingers tickle the back of your neck when you both share a sweet kiss.

However, you are interrupted by the bright light shingling right to your right. The sounds of the glass tapping right next to you startles you and Taehyung is visibly confused to see Tiffany and Yoongi standing right next to his rental car.

Your eyes meet Yoongi’s and you are visibly stiff from where you sat, shocked to see the couple outside.

Taehyung rolls down the window for you and Tiffany waves a hello to the both of you.

“Oh my god, you guys! You got back together!”

You both immediately shook your heads, wanting to clear the other. There is a wave of relief in Yoongi’s face, but shame in Tiffany’s at her assumption.

“No, we’re… we’re trying to work things out, but not officially together.” Taehyung clarifies.

“Oh, noted.” Tiffany nods and bites her lower lip. “I’m so glad you both get a second chance at something though. You guys should have came earlier though! We had a Disney movie night with Michelle and Hobi. It would have been a cool triple date.” At the mention of your future plans with Taehyung, Yoongi has returned to his state of disbelief once again. Unsure of how to react, he remains difficult to read.

“I bet it would’ve have been fun.” You sighed and turn to Taehyung, kissing him on the cheek, hoping for the cumbersome atmosphere to die down. “Call me when you’ve arrived to your hotel safely.”

When you hop out of the car, Taehyung says his goodbyes to both Tiffany and Taehyung and he exits the apartment complex, relieved to have clarified it for everyone that you and Taehyung were just working things out.

“I’ll see you guys later. I’m… really fucking tired, but we should definitely have another movie night next weekend or something.” You grin at Tiffany and fish your apartment keys out of your purse, hugging Tiffany goodbye before you head back to door.

There was a part of you that screamed to avoid any physical contact with Yoongi, but you did not want to alert the already tense moment by not offering him one in front of Tiffany. However, he had already decided upon himself to dismiss the conversation but unlocking his car where had parked.

“God, he’s been grumpy all night.” Tiffany complains and your curiosity is piqued. What could have possibly irked him so much to the point that he is still vexed up until now? You bite back any inquiries regarding his mood; afraid that perhaps it had something to do with your little reunion with Taehyung.

“Nothing like wine and chocolate can’t fix. I’m sure that’ll brighten up his mood.” You advise and Tiffany agrees before she waves another goodbye. Turning away from the departing couple, you attempt to fish out the keys out of your purse and enter your unit.

The living room is pristine. You would have assumed that it’d be trashed for the evening, but the cushions had been positioned beautifully on the sectional. Not a single crumb laid on the carpeted floors of your apartment and the scent of vanilla lingers in the air. The lights are turned off at the hallway and inside Michelle’s room, assuming that the couple have turned in for the night.

When you strip your coat off of your frame, you hear the lightest of knocks behind you, sneaking a peek inside the peep hole to see Yoongi awaiting for a response. Unlocking all the locks and opening the door for him, he invites himself inside and you are ultimately confused at his presence.

“Did you forget anything?” You inquired, unsure of his purpose for coming back inside your abode.

“How was your date with Taehyung?” You held your breath at the mention of his name and, suddenly, you can feel the density of the atmosphere around you. It was unbelievably quiet and all you can hear is the ticking noises of your noisy kitchen clock.

“I had a good time. If you were curious, we went to that sushi place downtown and there was a gelato shop next door.” His jaw tightens as you reply and he scratches the back of his neck, swallowing at his following inquiry.

“Was it really good enough that you had to reconsider getting back together with him?”

“Yoongi, it was just… a date. Taehyung and I don’t even know what’s going on, so we’re going to take it slow —“

“What the fuck does that mean? Hoseok says you guys fucked last night and, now, you’re taking it slow?” His annoyance was infectious and the knitting of your brows was a sign to Yoongi that you were puzzled with his current stance in your relationship.

“Why does it matter to you, Yoongs? Quite frankly, my dating life is none of your concern. You have your own to cherish and rejoice in. Meanwhile, I’m still trying to puzzle the pieces together.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt again.” He seethes and you scoff at his reason.

“I’ve gotten used to it, alright? I appreciate the concern, but this is my decision to make — not yours or Michelle’s or Hoseok’s — mine.” You take a step closer and you can’t help but savor the scent of his new cologne that Tiffany had recently bought as his Christmas gift. He stays silent as he reads your face, looking you directly in the eye before you swallow hard.

“Can you answer me honestly?”

You nod once and you can feel your heart beating faster, jaw clenching at the anticipation of his question.

“Why are you so hesitant to go back with him? You had sex with him, agreed to go on a date with him — why take things slow? What’s with the reluctance to establish a relationship when you think he’s changed?” The question hit you hard and there was one simple answer to it, but you bit your tongue because it’d complicate everything so much more; Because if you answered honestly at that very moment, everything at that moment would be real.

You were still in love with him.

And the way your eyes remained disconnected from his. Your breath hot as you sighed, releasing all the exasperation in this sticky situation was enough for Yoongi to understand your hesitation.

Nothing had to be said.

Frustrated with the excruciating silence filling the air, Yoongi takes a sharp inhale before instinctively cups your face into his palms and crashes his mouth onto yours. It was unexpected yet almost necessary for a moment like this. Months of pent up anguish, frustration, and desire to feel his mouth on yours, it was finally happening.

His mouth tasted sweet like ice cream. You hated the way you can taste a slight taste of strawberry on his mouth because you knew he had kissed Tiffany and it was her lipgloss that you were tasting. Suddenly, you are overwhelmed with Tiffany.

He wouldn’t kiss Tiffany like this. Unless, you didn’t think he had kiss Tiffany like this. He was kissing you like it was his last dying breath and you despised that he was good at it. You can feel the pace of his breathing when your bodies collide against each other, seeking for more contact than a lust driven kiss.

And you can’t help but inhale the scent of his goddamn cologne. It was intoxicating and you could smell the fabric softener of his clothes rubbing against yours. The callouses on his digits were rough on your cheeks, but there was a tenderness in the way he caressed them. A roughness in the way his other set of digits would tug at the root of your hair but a sense of comfort int he way the pads of his finger massage your scalp.

You were putty in his hands and you savored his mouth.

But it was too overwhelming; the taste of chocolate ice cream now tasted of strawberry lip gloss and the smell of his sandalwood cologne now a coconut infused perfume that littered his shirt.

The palms of your hands landing on his chest as you gently tugged his much bigger frame off of yours. The hold he had on you now gone and you whimpered at the loss of his touch.

“T — Tiffany’s waiting for you.��� There is a look of pain and regret painted on your visages and you wiped his taste off of your mouth, hating the fact that you loved the way he tasted. You wanted every fiber of him off of you, avoiding addiction.

“Right.” He cleared his throat as he backed away from your frozen body and he clutches the knob of the door. “YN, please —“

“My… lips are sealed.” You breathe, knowing very well that you two had committed into something that has ultimately ruin someone’s trust and happiness.

“Thanks.” He opens the door and turns around. However, before he leaves, he turns to you and you can see a sense of sadness in his visage. “N — Nothing has changed, hasn’t it?”

The tears began building up in your eyes because you knew perfectly well what he was talking about.

Even six months later, you two were hopelessly in love with each other.

“Not one single bit.”

↪ Please stay tuned for the next part!

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

this is dom harry bro no questions he'd just sit there eating u out for hours but wouldnt let u come

“Please.”

“No.”

“Harry, please.”

“Mm-mm.”

It’s been hours. Literal hours.

Her best guess is two, but it feels more like twenty. She’s hypersensitive, and it’s not helping that he’s refusing to let her cum.

Y/N can only hold out for so long before her body takes on a mind of its own and breaks down without his or her permission, so she tries to focus her thoughts on something—anything— else. Anything but him.

Her mind wanders to how she’d ended up in this position in the first place.

How she had thought he’d come in from the airport and they’d go out for some dinner and maybe save all of the raunchiness for the later half of the evening.

But of course he couldn’t wait. He’d been waiting for three days, and now he was refusing to leave his post between her drenched thighs to make up for it.

Harry had gone to Cancun for a couple of days to shoot something top secret, leaving Y/N behind in Philly, where he was planning to come back to put some more business details in order for his next album.

When he had walked through the door of the hotel room, she almost didn’t recognize him.

He’d gotten very tan during those days in Mexico and she could tell it was natural. His nose was already starting to peel and the edges of his hairline were sun-bleached, along with a wave of honey and auburn highlights running through his usual chestnut brown curls. He was sporting crisp white shorts, a simple black button-up with the first two buttons undone, a black windbreaker, and her own pair of scuffed up white Vans that she had let him borrow.

He tended to take something of Y/N’s with him whenever he went away, even if just for a little bit. An old oversized Jurassic Park t-shirt that smelled like her, a wooden bead bracelet she got when they visited Animal Kingdom, the silver charms from one of her favorite necklaces that dote her initials, which he would loop around his cross chain. A ruby and black diamond ring he had gifted her for her birthday that fit perfectly around his pinky, her favorite pair of cactus-patterned socks— the list is endless. Point being, this time around he decided on the pair of Vans he found at the bottom of her suitcase.

Harry loves that he never had to ask to borrow her stuff; she just let him raid whatever he wanted because it truly touched her that he always wanted to have a piece of her on him.

Those pair of raggedy Vans had ended up kicked into the corner of the room beside his suitcase as he distractedly shrugged off one shoulder of his jacket, the other occupied holding his phone to his ear.

“Yeah, that’s what we planned. Mitch texted and said he was boarding his flight so he should be here by tonight, probably around ten. The latest, twelve, depending on traffic.” Harry had grabbed his phone from its spot between his ear and shoulder, switching sides to slide off the rest of the windbreaker. “Okay, so nine tomorrow morning? The room’s booked and everything? Alright, sick! I’ll text you when I’m on my way. Later.”

Harry had tapped the screen of his phone, releasing a long sigh of relief through his nose as he chucked it onto the free bed along with his jacket, running one of his large hands up his tired face and through his messy locks.

Y/N had spoken up first, voice clear even over the Sugar Rush episode playing on the TV in the background. “How was Cancun?”

Harry’s drained gaze had focused on her and somehow, just looking at her— just seeing his girlfriend laying on the disheveled bed in one of the lavish, creme-colored hotel bathrobes with rainbow fuzzy socks covering her wiggling toes and her bangs pinned back haphazardly with a clip— had inflated a certain warmth inside him that rose up from the heels of his feet to the tips of his fingers, expanding in his chest and squeezing out any stress and exhaustion milling in his veins.

He had pursed his lips into a small, lopsided smile full of tender fondness, his eyes softening and glossing over with the comfort that comes from her familiar scent of chamomile shampoo and apple lip balm. “It went great. Everyone was lovely, the filming got done quick and easy, the food was as amazing as ever, but...”

Harry had trailed over to the front of the bed, falling onto his knees and then hands, crawling across the mattress until he was hovering over her with arms propped on either side of her head and knees straddling her hips. He’d pressed a delicate kiss to the center of her forehead, leaning down to nudge her nose with his. “...I missed you.”

Y/N cocked her head back to lock eyes with her boyfriend, his smile contagious. “Well, I missed my Vans.”

Harry had broken into an amused snort, shaking his head lightly as he speckled pecks all over her face. His tone was dramatic and full of pretend anguish. “My poor heart!”

She was reduced to a giggling mess as she wrapped her arms securely around his neck, his own arms weaving their way between the bed and her lower back to keep her trapped as his mouth brushed across every tickle spot he’d learned like the back of his hand.

Harry had pulled back from his little attack, grinning ear to ear with his dimples on full display. He’d balanced himself on his elbows, fingers reaching up to tuck her unkempt hair out of her face.

They’d laid like that for a moment; Harry snuggled between her legs, irises flickering over the tiny details of her face, taking her in. The way her lips were lightly chapped, her cheeks warmer than usual, her chest heaving and neck flexing with every breath she’d gulp down. The way her eyes were bright, almost as if infused with literal starlight. The way her hands were gripping at his wrists gently and the way she kept glancing down at his mouth, inviting it to meet her’s.

“Y’know what I’ve been thinking about all fucking day?” His voice had been soft— barely above a mumble— but filled with a type of desperate conviction that she rarely saw in him.

“Mm?” Her fingers had tightened around his wrists curiously.

He’d taken in a shaky breath, letting it out slowly in such a way that it rattled his lungs. His tongue had peeked out to swipe across his bottom lip, which had then pursed with his top one in anticipation.

“Been thinking about eating you out for hours.”

Y/N’s heart had tripped a step at his confession, which had come out as a sigh of needy pleading. 

“Yeah?”

Harry had nodded his head sluggishly, leaning forward to lightly touch his lips to her Cupid’s Bow. The warmth of his words traced the outline of her mouth suggestively, sending a shiver racing down the knobs of her spine. “All fucking day, baby. Spent every second on that plane thinking about how sweet you’d taste on my tongue and how good it’d feel to have you dripping down my chin.”

One of Y/N’s hands had left its spot, opting for tracing his top lip with its fingers instead. “For hours?”

Harry had nodded almost feverishly, a small whimper stringing at the back of his throat at the sensation of the ridges of her skin passing over his. “Just been craving you a bit extra, lately. Was practically running through the airport to get here.”

She’d release small laugh in the form of a scoff, taking her bottom lip between her teeth. “I thought we’d go out to dinner first or something and save this for later, but if you really need it that bad...”

“Fuck, minx, I need it so fucking bad.”

Harry had left no time for her to think it over twice, pushing back to sit on his heels and tugging the tie of her bathrobe loose. “Jesus Christ...”

Y/N had prepared for the occasion.

In the short time he’d been away, she’d gone shopping at a mall near the hotel. She hadn’t really gone with the intent of purchasing anything, but then she ran into a specific set of lingerie that she just couldn’t pass up.

It was bright red lace, the fabric littered with glitter. It came with a bra (which had a bow over the middle of each cup and one at the center of the piece, which could be undone to remove the article from the front) and a pair of high-waisted cheeky panties with matching garters that fit perfectly mid-thigh.  

Y/N could practically see Harry’s mouth watering as he had blinked at her a few times, utterly dumbfounded, mouth slightly parted. A hue as red as her undies had crawled up his neck and spilled across his cheeks, as well as the shells of his ears and the tip of his button nose.

“I was saving it for later.” She’d murmured softly, keeping her vision trained on his face, drinking up every twitch and jolt of his expression and letting it overflow her ego. She had spread her legs, hooking them over the back of each of his knees as she sunk further into the sheets, allowing her plush robe to skim down her upper arms. “But you can tear it off now, if you want.”

And that brings her to where she is now, with her head thrown back against the mound of expensive feather pillows, fingers woven into Harry’s damp curls as she bucks against his face, his forearms draped over her outer thighs to keep her pinned down to the mattress.

“Fucking hell, Har, please just let me cum.”

When he said for hours, she thought he’d meant it hyperbolically.

“Stay still.” His voice is low and raspy, thick with lust and drunk on her taste.

She thought it would’ve been maybe twenty minutes— forty, tops— but those minutes had turned to an hour, and that hour into two. The first hour he’d spent biting into her inner thighs and tonguing her over the lace panties, only removing them after they were embarrassingly drenched (and with his teeth, of course). The last hour had been him nose-deep between her thighs, fingers working into her thoroughly as he lapped at her folds like he hadn’t eaten in weeks.

“God, you’re so fucking wet.” Harry pulls back a bit, lips, dimples, and the point of his nose gleaming with her excitement. He messily drags his knuckles up her pulsing clit, trying to clean her up a bit so he can get in further without feeling suffocated.

The milky liquid coats the back of his hand generously, dripping down onto his fingers and smearing across the soaked sheets. He glimpses down at it, instinctively bringing it up to his mouth and licking every drop off his knuckles. His tongue passes over his skin and between his fingers, eyes flickering upwards to lock onto her’s. His irises glitter with a form of self-satisfied snarkiness, glittering with different tones of green, light blue, and crystal amber in the deeper crevices.

Harry pushes his first two digits entirely past his lips, lids fluttering shut as he inhales a quaking sigh through his nose, humming a moan in the back of his throat. His words are muffled over his full mouth, but passable nonetheless. “Shit, you taste so bloody sweet.”

Her whole body caves upwards, thighs clenching and heels digging into the bed. Her voice is broken and whiney. “Wanna cum so bad.”

“I know y’do, darling. I know.” He pulls out with a wet pop, licking over his swollen lips and glistening chin. “But I’m just having too much fun. Just a little longer, I promise.”

Harry’s large hands cup over her quivering outer thighs, yanking her back towards his face. He picks up again with tiny puppy licks across the sensitive bud at the center of her folds, hips absentmindedly grinding into the bed to ease the radiating ache itching the underside of his balls.

Y/N tugs harder at his sun-kissed curls, feeling him hiss against her— the vibrations cause her knees to twitch. “I c-can’t hold off anymore...”

The pads of his digits bruise her skin. “Y’can— know y’can. If you want me to fuck you tonight, you better.”  

Harry flattens his tongue out across the thickest part of her crotch, turning his face slowly from side to side as his fingers gently curl inside her, brushing against her tightening walls and resulting in a shattered whimper straining her throat. “That’s a good girl, hm? Love the sounds you make for me— they’re so fucking pretty. Love the way I make you squeal.”

Y/N’s words choke out in sputters, interrupted by abrupt breaths she can’t help but inhale. “Feels—so good— fuck—!”

“Such a darling little thing, aren’t you?” Harry looks up at her from underneath his thick lashes and cockily furrowed brows, the edges of his lips peeking up in a smug simper from between her legs. “Bought yourself something nice for me to fuck you in and thought you could go prancing around in it all night without me knowing until we got back.”

“Wanted it to be a s-surprise.”

“Yeah? Well, I’ve got a surprise for you, too.”

Harry backs away from her slightly with a final rough lick, removing his fingers from inside her and sloppily wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. He reaches over her left hip, hooking the ruined panties with his index finger and holding them up above her abdomen for her to see. A certain mischievous glossiness washes across his darkened eyes.

“You’re going to put these back on and spend the entire night in them. Want you sitting at dinner in the mess you made, thinking about how hard I’m gonna pound you when we get back.”

[maraudererasmut]

Black and White (Part XXIX)

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Part XI | Part XII | Part XIII | Part XIV | Part XV | Part XVI | Part XVII | Part XVIII | Part XIX | Part XX | Part XXI | Part XXII | Part XXIII | Part XXIV | Part XXV | Part XXVI | Part XXVII | Part XXVIII | Part XXIX | Part XXX

Remus Lupin was standing in the middle of a gallery that was hosting his art show.  

This was something he had always dreamed of, but never expected to actually happen. There he was, in Black and White, with his paintings on the wall, each with a price tag next to it. Better than that, there were art collectors and consultants roaming about, viewing this work, considering them for purchase. This was everything Remus had ever wanted.

Why, then, was his mind focused on something entirely different?

As Remus shook hands with wealthy people and smiled professionally at them, his only thought was of his kiss with Sirius. It was tender and intimate, with Sirius' hands holding him, finger tips tangling through his curls.

Every once in a while, Sirius would approach Remus, his Gallery Owner Grin plastered to his face. For all intents and purposes, it felt like a professional dynamic— then Sirius' hand would surreptitiously graze the small of Remus' back, gently guiding him towards something or someone. Was that normal? Did Sirius always place his hand on the small of people's backs? Was his smile always accompanied with that rosy glow of his cheeks? Did his eyes always sparkle that much?

At some point during the evening, Lily caught Remus on his own, approaching him and giving him a tight embrace. 

"Congratulations, Remus. This is an amazing turnout! And people keep saying how much they love your art! You should be so proud of yourself!"

"Heh… thanks, Lily," Remus responded, tearing his eyes off of Sirius, who was standing next to Dorcas and laughing. "And… you too. Your art is also beautiful. I've heard Dorcas is considering buying something for one of their clients."

Lily beamed at Remus, bright red lips parted joyfully. 

"Thanks, Remus! Yeah, they talked to me about commissioning some stuff. It's pretty exciting!" Lily paused, looking at Remus expectantly, raising a delicate eyebrow. 

"What?" Remus asked pointedly, trying to keep a straight face. "You clearly want to say something. Spit it out!"

Lily's ivory cheeks flushed as she glanced behind her shoulder at Sirius before turning back to the other artist.

"He seems to be in good spirits..." 

"So he does."

"Remus, what happened? You two were arguing and now… you haven't taken your eyes off of him all night!"

Remus shifted his gaze away from the gallery owner, who he just happened to be looking at. He brushed his hair from his eyes, trying to detract from the blush that was spreading across his cheeks. 

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Lily."

"Mhmm…" She clearly didn't believe him.

"Look, we'll get coffee tomorrow, okay? For now, I have to concentrate on being…" Remus gestured to himself, as if he was wearing some sort of costume and had to ensure that he was acting the part. 

Lily leaned in to give Remus a kiss on the cheek and a squeeze of the arm. She pulled away and winked at him.

"It's a date. We'll talk tomorrow."

As Lily glided away, Remus felt a hand press firmly on his shoulder. He turned around and grinned at James, who looked completely and utterly satisfied with himself.

"Glad you fixed it," he said, his eyes lingering on the lithe silhouette of his wife. "'Cause I was ready to hit someone."

"I'm glad you didn't," Remus responded with a chuckle. "My face is far too fragile."

"I never said it would be you…" James put his arm over Remus' shoulder and tugged him closer, causing the artist to stumble slightly. James was quite a bit stronger than he let on. "So!" He continued cheerfully. "You haven't introduced me to your friends or family yet! Which of these guests are yours?"

Remus shrugged nonchalantly, trying not to let the sudden heaviness in his heart ruin the mood. 

"I didn't invite anyone."

"What?!" James pulled away from Remus, placing a hand firmly on each of the artist's shoulders and bending down to look him straight in the eyes. Remus stared straight ahead, his mind focusing on the deep, ruddy brown of James' cheeks, the velvety darkness in his eyes. "Why didn't you invite anyone?! This is your first art show, Remus! You should be celebrating! Your family should be here with you! Or your friends! Someone!"

Remus steeled himself, trying not to show any of his anxiety on his face. He thought of painting, he thought of colours, he focused on the man in front of him. James' colours always reminded Remus of autumn, with their warm glows and subtle orange undertones. Autumn and summer— that was James and Lily.

"My friends are here," Remus managed to choke out, trying not to get emotional. "And I'm so glad that you guys came."

Remus was losing his resolve as he watched James' dark brown eyes fill with tears. James scooped Remus into a bear hug, squeezing tighter than the artist thought possible.

"We love you, Remus. So much." James' voice was muffled in Remus' shoulder, but the artist managed to make out the words. He patted James on the back, glancing over to Lily pleadingly, hoping for some kind of explanation.

"I...uh… I love you guys, too? Thanks James…"

James pulled away and held Remus' arms at his side.

"I'm so honoured to be your friend, and I'm thrilled that I get to celebrate this with you."

"Uh… right back at you, James…"

"James, honey!" Lily appeared out of nowhere, placing a gentle hand on her husband's shoulder and offering Remus an apologetic look. "Let's let Remus mingle with the other guests. He has some art to sell!"

"Yes, yes! We'll see you later, Remus. Good luck!"

James and Lily departed, leaving Remus stunned in the middle of the gallery. Just as he was about to go to the bar to grab himself a drink, he was approached by someone he hadn't met before.

"Remus, is it?"

"Yes?" The artist smiled at the stranger and held out his hand. He was used to the routine by this point in the evening. "And you are?"

"Caradoc. Dearborn. Pleasure to meet you."

Caradoc's grip was surprisingly firm as he shook Remus' hand. He was a large man, taller and broader than Sirius, and he held himself with confidence. He had beautifully dark skin, emphasized by the contrast to the bleach blonde of his closely shaved hair. When he smiled, gleaming white teeth showed and his rich brown eyes glimmered with excitement. Caradoc had round cheeks and a chiseled jawline, classically handsome features that Remus' heart responded to with a few sporadic thumps. 

"Likewise," Remus mumbled, lost in the woodsy colours that made up Caradoc's irises, and the smokey scent of his cologne. 

"Figured I should introduce myself to London's next big thing. I want to be in your good books for when you're famous!" He accompanied his grand statements with a cheeky wink.

"Oh, I don't know about that," Remus said casually, trying to remain modest despite the flattering words. "This is still my first show."

"And what a show it is!" Caradoc motioned around him, his arms spread wide in a bold gesture. "Look at everyone! They can't take their eyes off of your art! I've already heard talk from the owner of a second show!"

"Have you now?" Remus raised an eyebrow and glanced over to the spot where Sirius stood, chatting to a group of wealthy socialites. "I hadn't heard that from him."

"Well," Caradoc continued with an almost wicked gleam in his eyes. "If your next show isn't here, you should definitely consider showing elsewhere. It'd be a sincere pity if you didn't continue to ride the wave of your success." Caradoc pulled out a card from the inside of his jacket and leaned in close to Remus to slide it into his breast pocket, giving it a pat for good measure. "If you do feel like showing elsewhere… or just want to discuss the future of your art career…"

He gave Remus another wink and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Remus standing in stunned silence.

Was this really happening? Were other galleries propositioning Remus? Was this show exactly what he needed to kickstart his career?

Remus was so excited by the prospect that he nearly spun around right into Sirius Black, who held his hands out to catch a potentially falling artist.

"Oh, hello, Remus…"

"Hello…" Remus tore his eyes from Sirius', trying not to get lost in their depths. He knew he was blushing, but he couldn't help himself. He felt Sirius' grip tighten slightly on his arm as the gallery owner leaned in closer.

"The show is going wonderfully. You should be proud of yourself."

"I am," Remus mumbled, staring at the pair of lips mounted on the wall and desperately not thinking about Sirius'. "Tonight has been… amazing."

"It's not over yet…"

Remus didn't have a chance to ask Sirius what exactly he was implying before another guest approached the two of them and began discussing Remus' work. 

The entire evening had been a whirlwind thus far, and Remus just had to remain afloat as the rippling crowd tugged him this way and that. It would be over soon, and he would finally have a moment to himself to decompress and wrap his mind around everything that had happened. 

((Author’s Note: I know this chapter isn’t my strongest one yet, but I really wanted to get across that feeling of being pulled from every direction and the hectic feeling of being the center of attention at a show! I also wanted to introduce a few new things so that I have some new plot points to explore in future chapters. Please forgive me for this one!)

[outroshooky]

the aces up your sleeve | jjk

this is the third time i’ve posted this fic; let’s hope tumblr’s tags decide to actually show the post this time.

⇢ genre: series; part 2 of simmer down and pucker up (friendswithbenefits!au, friendstolovers!au)

⇢ pairing: jeon jeongguk x unnamed oc

⇢ word count: 12.05k

⇢ warnings: heavy angst (excessive drinking, hangovers, foul language, unhealthy coping mechanisms, jeongguk lets his heart get ahead of his head), implied and also brief smut, fluff. vomit tw. there are some darker themes here, read with caution

⇢ a/n: i started working on this fic five months ago to the day i finished it. 12,057 words and so many hours later, it’s done. i hope you enjoy aces as much as i enjoyed writing it, and a special kudos to all of the people who’ve helped along the way- @a-heart-full-of-javert and @yoonsgiggle for reading revision after revision and being my number one supporters always, and those mutuals whose feedback helped hone this piece (@pvrpletae @taeholic, and any other friends i missed). also, a nod to @genderfluid-jaredkleinmann, because anything is possible with twenty bucks and a metro card. thank you, thank you, thank you for all of your love!

“Come home with me,” she whispers. “We’ll figure out the specifics later.”

“‘m okay with that.”

He stumbles with her to her apartment building, ignoring the questioning glances and stares of strangers. He looks up at her and thinks she’s never been more beautiful, not even when she’s naked and writhing under him. He wants to immortalize this forever- her features glowing in the soft light of dawn, her arm supporting him, keeping him steady. He still believes he doesn’t deserve her, but oddly enough, he can’t find it in himself to worry too much, because he believes in her so, so much more. They’ll figure out the specifics later.

It’s cold, he thinks.

The air is chilly as it kisses his bare arms, burns his sore throat as he inhales, exhales. Breath after breath passing through his lungs, every single intake of sweet oxygen a reminder that he is still here; he hasn’t yet drunk himself to death. Everything is still a little fuzzy at the edges, something he attributes to the entire bottle of Delas Cotes Du Ventoux he’d downed on top of a vodka shot or two. He’ll apologize to his liver once he’s completely sober.

Step after step, his beat-up sneakers plod over an endless concrete plain. Exhaustion wears on him; he can’t even bring himself to avoid the gray gum stains, and every so often his foot sticks just a half-second longer to the pavement.

Jeon Jeongguk has seen sunrise after sunrise limping home after a night of indulgence, and yet something about this one is different. 

 Reds and pinks and oranges blot the sky like the misshapen wine stains on his t-shirt, a celestial canvas that, to his foggy brain, must’ve only been painted by God himself. God, an entity he’s never believed to be real, yet he’s never felt more spiritual hunched over and crawling home in yesterday’s clothes and tomorrow’s promises. There must be a god, some sort of master puppeteer defying the impossible and stringing together the inevitable, because there’s an arm around Jeongguk’s shoulders keeping him grounded and good fucking god, it’s her.

Her.

There’s no other word for her, no other name that can possibly summon that raw, unbridled feeling that resides deep in his chest. Rather than the term defining her, she defines it all on her own. She brings a new meaning to a normal, ordinary, everyday word that isn’t near worthy enough to refer to a personal succubus, midnight companion, best friend. His succubus, companion, friend. 

Salmon and peach pour over the piercing tops of the skyscrapers, leaking color onto the endless streets, monotonous in their grid-like ways. The same convenience stores, sex shops, traffic lights direct the flow of cars that cough and sputter like the smoke wisping from grates in the asphalt. Life goes on, and yet above, seemingly unnoticed, is a display of Elysian grace, empyrean beauty. Light seeps into a world of mist and twilight, and it paints over her skin too, illuminating her from the side. Her, a divinity in her own right, with two feet on the ground and five slender fingers in his own.

I must be dreaming, Jeongguk thinks. Dreaming, because the sun is oozing over the horizon like a lazy yolk and for once, he’s thinking straight. Dreaming, because this is the drunkest he’s ever been in his entire life, yet he’s never seen it like it is now, laid out before him. His cards are on the table and his heart is on his sleeve, whipping free and loose in the wind that tousles his already-messy hair. Dreaming, because he’s having a divine revelation that men of old have only when the life is seeping from their bones, and as far as he’s concerned, he still has years ahead of him. Fuck it, he could die tomorrow but he wouldn’t care; it’s as if he found the very essence of life itself, and it lies not in the cracked-egg sky nor in the lazy plumes of smoke, not in empty alcohol bottles nor bodies slotting together in twisted sheets. It lies in the only one who matters, the smart mouth who stumbled into his life when she tripped up the stairs and her books flew into the backs of his tweenage ankles.

Her.

Maybe Jeongguk is still drunk. Maybe he’s high too, lost in the clouds of delirium and pacificity. Maybe he’ll wake up in a mess of blankets and dirty laundry, noon’s glow filtering in through the kitchen window. Maybe it's the weariness that bears down on him like a train, pulling at his tired limbs and drooping eyelids, weighing on his shoulders with a divinely brutal burden.

And yet Jeongguk stumbles on through the fog, ignoring the looks of faces unknown. He stumbles on, trusting fate and God and the bleary, bleached world that seems so full of color now. The world is gray through cracked eyelids as he stares at slab after slab of concrete, dull only until he can tear his vision to the masterpiece that paints the heavens up above. Has it always been this beautiful? Or has he just never been able to look up and see it?

He mulls the question over as his feet move with a will of their own, pondering over and over until he finds himself in an apartment he’s only ever known in darkness. His shoes slip off, his shirt comes over his head; he's handed sweatpants and boxers and her fingers dance over his bare skin like she's known it all her life. Jeongguk’s head lolls and rests against her shoulder, and it's only then that she speaks, murmurs for him to stay awake with her just a little while longer. He's pretty sure his eyes are already shut by the time his body hits the mattress, and he sinks into a five-hundred thread count haven of her conditioner and her perfume.

Every fiber of Jeongguk’s body aches, with exhaustion or emotion he’s not quite sure. He’s wrapped in sheets that smell like her, but something is missing. His eyelids crack open to see her retreat from the bedside, and he extends one arm as if reaching for a lifeline. A drowning man, the life preserver skimming away across the waves. “Please-”

“Jeongguk...” She hesitates.

“Please just stay with me, please,” he pleads. “Just hold me.”

Maybe it’s the rasp in his voice that makes her pause; it doesn’t even sound like his own. Maybe it’s his frame, broken and small in an ocean of blankets. Maybe it’s the fact that in one night, her entire world has been thrown upside down without any way of making out what’s right and what’s wrong.

She takes a step forward.

Then another.

“Please stay,” He whispers.

Maybe it’s just him.

By the time she eases herself down next to him, he’s already snoring quietly, the shipwrecked victim clutching desperately to his life raft. Yet as hard as she tries, her tired eyes refuse to rest, mind working, thinking, processing. What else can she do?

And so she lets herself go a little, and then a little more until she’s sinking into the warm feeling that envelops her heart, cradles her soul. For the boy she loves is curled into her, head on her chest, and oddly enough, it’s in the midst of the chaos where she finally finds peace.

Mortal fucking agony.

The only three words that Jeongguk can summon when his sticky eyelids slit open and the light, airy feeling of sleep fades to be replaced with what feels like just about every cell in his body painfully throbbing as one. His head is spinning, limbs trembling, bile threatening to rise in his throat, bitter on a thick tongue. 

It couldn’t possibly be worse than this. This is, without a doubt, the worst hangover he has ever had.

Thank god it’s still dark outsi-

The blankets are ripped off of his head, and Jeongguk screeches as the pain in his head intensifies to a nearly unbearable degree. Bright light floods the room, casting warmth and comfort across a neatly kept apartment, the eggshell walls doing their absolute best to reflect the sunshine. He swears the sun itself is driving a railroad spike through his skull, and he wonders what he ever did to personally offend a massive ball of burning gas hundreds of thousands of miles away.

“Morning, sunshine!” A folded towel smacks him in the face next, perches on his head. “Time to get up!”

“What the actual fuck?” Jeongguk groans, rolling over and wrapping his arms around the towel. At least when it covers his eyes, he’s back in the dark.

“Oh, I think not, Gukkie. It’s four in the afternoon. You’re getting your lazy ass out of my bed and showering, because you smell like a personal minibar and puke.” The towel is wrenched out of his hands, and he whines in complaint. She chuckles. “I never knew you were such a baby.”

“Fine, fine, I’m getting up,” he pushes himself to a sitting position, scrubbing at his eyes with deadweight arms. “Where the hell is my shirt?”

“In the wash, along with the rest of your shit.” She pauses. “Shampoo and soap are in the shower caddy, towel and washcloth are right next to you.”

He pokes his tongue in his cheek, stares up at her standing over him through squinted slits. “Do I have a choice?”

She folds her arms. “Absolutely not.”

He stands, gathers the things she’s laid out for him, wanders around her bed. He’s closing over the bathroom door when he sighs, winces as a particularly agonizing wave of pain rolls through his head. “Oh, fuck me.”

“For the record, I have!”

His only response is the squeaking of the shower handle and the rush of water pitter-pattering a familiar melody.

The first thing Jeongguk is greeted with when he emerges from the sauna of a bathroom is the smell of scrambled eggs. The second is something burning, and that’s when the fire alarm goes off.

“Oh, shut up!”

He leans against the doorframe with his ears plugged, watching her bat at the detector with a damp hand towel, waving at the ceiling furiously. “Need some help there?” he asks when it finally quiets.

“Oh hey, you look a little more alive. Smell a lot better too.” She scrapes the eggs out of the pan, dresses them next to two pieces of blackened charcoal that he assumed to have once been toast. She can’t admit to either of them just how good he looks in a plain white tee, lanky frame drowning, and so she slides the plate across the table without a second glance. Jeongguk tucks one leg under him as he settles, reaches for the salt and pepper. “Find everything satisfactory?”

“Water pressure could use some work.” He gestures with his fork. “Whose clothes are these?”

She shrugs. “My ex’s.”

“Excuse me?” Jeongguk coughs. “I thought it’s been months since you’ve seen-”

“It has been,” she busies herself at the sink. “He left them here.”

“And you never got rid of them?”

She scrubs particularly hard at a bit of grizzle on a dirtied plate. “That’s a waste of a forty-five dollar shirt.”

He takes a bite, chews. “To each their own.”

Silence falls thick and heavy. Jeongguk swallows, clears his throat. Says her name, and when her eyes meet his, something in his chest hitches. “Thank you.” He pauses. “Really, I mean that. Thank you for everything.”

She freezes, water still pouring down her hands, soap bubbles swirling, leaking into the drain. Silence.

His heart thumps once. Twice.

“Jeongguk, what are we?”

It’s like a cavity has opened up inside of him, chasm splitting far and wide, and inside is roiling emotion, waves crashing and cascading with abandon. He isn’t sure if he’s about to vomit or weep- perhaps the former, because his head is still pounding, but his own heartbeat outweighs the drum thudding in his skull. “What do you mean?”

The knife she’s holding slips from her fingers, clatters against the basin of the sink. “What do you mean, ‘what do you mean’? You nearly drink yourself to death and I’m the one who goes out and saves your sorry ass, coincidentally the same person you’re fucking on the weekends, by the way. Are you just going to casually play off what happened last night? God Jeongguk, you’ve got to be shitting me!”

It’s easier to push people away when you’re about to crack, because they don’t have to watch you fragment into pieces that you can’t even hope to put back together without slicing your own palms into ribbons. It’s easier to watch your own blood run than see the ink of the ones you love stain a blank page crimson. She can’t breathe; her page isn’t blank, there’s scribbles all over in black and blue and now they’re running maroon. Messages embedded in gestures and actions, and she grips the edge of the sink white-knuckled. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.”

It’s foggy, misty in his head, the memories of last night. Concrete smooth under his fingertips, sacred confessions in a city of sin, but what did he confess? It’s blurred at the edges; her face is reflected in the surface of a still pool, but when he summons answers, he’s only left with more questions.

Her voice is a mere whisper, broken and raw. “Please don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.”

He rises from the table. “Tell me what I’ve forgotten.”

It’s a few steps to cross the kitchen, to see her trembling, still clutching onto the worn sponge. Silence is an old friend by now, sickening quiet, and the tumbling waves inside him threaten to break forth, gushing like a flood. He reaches out to touch her and she jerks away.

“What did I do?” he begs.

Silence.

“Did we fuck?” 

Nothing.

“Please tell me, I don’t even know what I di-”

“There are no fucked-up people in this world,” her voice is shaking. “Just good people who do very, very fucked up things.”

Jeongguk freezes, arm outstretched to touch her, fingers stilling.

“Drunk words are sober thoughts,” her voice cracks, and she bends over the sink, head between her arms. “If you can remember what it is you even said in the first place.”

“What did I say?” he nearly whispers.

Her shoulders shake and she’s crying now. It’s killing him to see this, killing him that he’s destroying her and he doesn’t even know how he possibly drove a knife through her back. When she speaks, her voice is so soft, he can barely catch each word. “‘You told me you fucked up, and you broke the rule,’” She quotes, pauses. “‘And now it’s my turn. I fucked up,’” she sniffles. “‘I broke the rule.’” Oh god, please don’t finish the sentence. Please- “‘I love you.’”

Ringing.

Pounding.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Air filtering through his lungs, but it’s as if there’s a vice crushing him, squeezing every ounce of oxygen from his fragile body.

Confessions are told behind closed curtains, doors locked with the intentions of secrecy and intimacy, spilling the worst of your intentions to the holiest of the holy. They penetrate the curtain, the wall between you and your savior, separating human and divine with shame, guilt, the need to atone, repent for the one who’s given their everything for you. In the ultimate act of love, you’ve been saved from what you fear the most, blood spilled on fine sand, pierced by nails and a spear. Nails and a spear, except this time it’s vices and virtues, and tears prick at his eyes like thorns brushing skin.

“That’s what you did, Jeongguk.”

You knew?

For so long.

“You told me you love me and I told you I love you, too.”

She cries quietly, hiccups jerking her small frame.

Jeongguk wishes he could say something, do something to stop the agony. But it’s all his fault and his head is spinning still; he wants to comfort her, protect her from the torment she’s locked in, except he’s the one that’s spurred on the waves, and now she’s desperately trying to stay afloat.

Slowly, he reaches out to her. A life preserver, something, anything to help. His fingertips brush the top of her head, and he’s forever shocked by how soft her hair is, like flaxen strands of silk.

It’s coming back to him now, in bits and pieces. Her sweatshirt, bundled in his arms, his only protection against the biting cold. The world spinning in black and neon and twilight gray until a face comes into view. Her face. 

His hand strokes the top of her head, slowly, stiffly. She leans back the slightest into his touch.

His savior. His sins, laid out for the sheep to bear. He had to go and fall in love with the one thing he couldn’t touch, couldn’t have, couldn’t attach himself to.

“I’m so sorry.” The words pale in contrast to the situation no matter how much magnitude they carry, and his voice cracks. It’s too heavy for her to bear alone.

She reaches out to him, for him, and in an instant he’s pulled her against his chest, and she’s sobbing. The lamb’s back has broken, and there’s nothing left.

Her fingers twist in his shirt, face buried in his shoulder as he strokes her hair, lowering onto one knee and then the other. When he eases himself into a sitting position, she collapses with him and he cradles her close, like she’ll fragment any second if he lets go. Perhaps she will.

He rests his head on top of hers as she finally lets herself feel the stress of trying to keep it all together for him. He traces patterns on her arms, her thighs, her knees and her calves, lets her shake and tremble and break against him. He doesn’t care how much she’ll cut his palms, if he’ll even have any left by the time he’s done piecing her together. She’s worth it.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers into her hair. “You deserve better than this.”

“Don’t,” she croaks, screws her eyes tighter. “Don’t push me away with an excuse like that when I’m crying in your arms on my kitchen floor.”

“Okay,” Jeongguk says. “I won’t.”

And so he doesn’t.

He holds her until she has no tears left, until her face is blotchy and her cheeks are damp. She doesn’t see the way he weeps too, his forehead against her own, eyelids fluttered shut. I love you. The statement doesn’t burst forth from his chest, but leaks like the sunrise filtering over the tops of jagged skyscrapers, oozing like the warmth of a yolk, spilling the reality he can’t hide from anymore. 

The dying sunlight casts the room in dusky reds and yellows, patchy opals and milky blues. The day is coming to a close, but he feels like it’s just begun.

He noses at her cheek, watching as she blinks up at him through tired, sticky eyes. “You asked what we are.”

“And what are we?”

Jeongguk hopes he’s being reassuring. “We are whatever you want us to be.”

She snorts. “So specific, coming from the guy known for running from his problems.”

He rolls his eyes. “Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you?”

“Somehow you ended up making more sense when you were drunk, Jeongguk.”

“No, I-” He sighs. “So we’re in love with each other. We’re best friends that fuck on the weekends when they’re stressed, and we’re in love with each other. And I- I think I’d like this- us- to happen more often.”

“So you’re saying you want to hold me as I cry on my kitchen floor every day? Jesus Christ, I know you’re secretly a sappy bastard, but even t-”

“I’m saying I want to hold you like this more often, minus the tears,” Jeongguk interrupts. “I’m saying I want us to happen more often.” He stops for a moment when he sees her brows furrow, her face soften. “I’m saying that I want to eat shitty takeout with you on Tuesday nights and watch Finding Nemo as many times as you want to, because I know you love animated movies and Nemo is your favorite. I’m saying I want to kiss you before I fall asleep at night, and this time I’m not kissing your neck, I’m kissing your lips because I’m tired of being ashamed of kissing you, any part of you, when I know you’re not mine. I’m saying I want to argue and drink dollar store wine and forget about it all in the morning. I’m saying that I want to say I love you and not be afraid of it. Or be afraid to show it.” His fingers tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “Did you not believe me when I told you while I was drunk?”

“To be fair, you told me and then threw up on the sidewalk,” she remarks dryly, cheeks shimmering with wetness. “Your vomit had more conviction than your over-emotional drunk self did.”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes. “Just let me love you, Jesus Christ.”

“That’s more trouble than it’s worth.” She sniffles.

His heart twists. “We’ve come this far.”

“You still haven’t answered my question. What are we?”

He lets his heartbeat echo in his ears once, twice before he responds. “Let me prove it to you.”

“Prove it to me?” She lifts her head from his shoulder, eyebrow raised. “I’m sorry, do I need to bring up my previous rant about how I’m the one who goes out and saves you when you attempt to murder your liver? You have a lot of proving to do, Guk-”

“Let me take you out on a date.”

And then it all goes quiet.

It’s like someone’s pressed pause on an old VHS tape, playing quietly on an old television. The room is dim with afternoon light slipping lower, furniture and faces illuminated with a soft golden glow. Everything is frozen; it’s as if he’s watching from outside the screen as her face freezes in an expression of pure shock. A Renaissance painting, perhaps- Boy Nearly Shits Himself Hoping Fuckbuddy Doesn’t Leave Him, Jeon, 1591.

She can’t do anything but gape at him, mouth moving and jaw working, except no sound comes out. When she does find her voice a few seconds later, all she can splutter out is every other syllable, spewing consonants at him until he holds up a hand. “If you don’t want to, that’s okay, I just- I dunno, I figured that’s what guys do when they wanna impress a girl-” She’s talking with her hands now, gesticulating wildly, still unable to formulate an actual word. “-I’m sorry, if you say no, I’m not gonna push-”

“Jeongguk, would you shut up and listen to me?”

“Oh look, you’re actually intelligible now.”

“I’m not saying no.”

It’s his turn to freeze in shock, eyes wide, his arms still around her going rigid. “So what are you saying?”

She hesitates. “Well, I’m not saying yes either.”

His mouth goes dry. “W-what?”

“Look, Jeongguk, I-” she pauses, buries her face back in his chest because there she doesn’t have to worry. It’s a familiar patch of skin; she knows every birthmark and freckle, and she traces the constellations over his shirt with one finger. “I don’t know yet. I need to think about it.”

Anxiety, growing in his mind like so many vines, overgrown and flourishing, creeping into his thoughts and constricting his throat. He swallows hard, resists the desperate urge to pull her closer. A drowning man and his life preserver. “I can’t blame you for that.”

“Thank you for understanding,” she murmurs. Her lips brush his chest over his shirt and for a moment he’s in a dark bedroom, hands gripping her curves, whispering sin in her ear as she grinds on his lap, a whimpering mess. Not now.

He cracks a small smile somehow, squeezes her hip gently. “I try.”

“Guk?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you just hold me for a while?”

Forget for a while that she’s not yours.

His hands slide under her legs as he lifts her up seemingly effortlessly, carries her through the kitchen into her bedroom, settling down on the bed next to her. He opens his arms and she crawls to him like she has so many times before, except this time there’s no post-sex haze, no panting of breath nor eyes that shine with a certain satisfied, mischievous look. It’s just her and him, as she settles between his legs with her head on his chest and he traces gentle, slow circles on her back. Neither of them will admit just how comfortable it is, just how right it feels- nor will they admit that it’s happened before, and indeed Jeongguk does his best to push the thought out of his mind. Live in the now. You may never get to do this again.

And so he calms her until her breathing slows to an even rhythm, and she drifts off peacefully into a deep, calm sleep.

jeon jeongguk: so

jeon jeongguk: did u think about it

Read, 2:23pm. Yeah I did.

jeon jeongguk: aaaaand?

Read, 2:24pm. 

jeon jeongguk: cricket cricket

Read, 2:36pm.

jeon jeongguk: i feel like i should be playing the jeopardy theme song rn

jeon jeongguk: do do do do do do do

jeon jeongguk: do do do do DO do do do do do

Read, 2:37pm. You’re so irritating.

jeon jeongguk: ty

jeon jeongguk: it’s a talent ive perfected

jeon jeongguk: especially with u

jeon jeongguk: anyways

jeon jeongguk: im picking u up on friday at 3 outside ur apartment building

jeon jeongguk: be there or u have to eat my ass for a week

Read, 2:38pm. I never knew you were into that.

jeon jeongguk: there r a lot of things u don’t know about me

jeon jeongguk: but

jeon jeongguk: if u see me friday at 3

jeon jeongguk: u’ll get to find out

jeon jeongguk: it’ll be lit

Read, 2:41pm. Please never use that word again in my presence.

jeon jeongguk: ur no fun

Read, 2:43pm. img.jpg

jeon jeongguk: sending an uno reverse card does not change that fact

Read, 2:43. I’m at work; my break just ended. See you Friday.

jeon jeongguk: peace

A date.

It’s Thursday night and she’s still trying to wrap her head around it.

A date. 

With Jeon Jeongguk. 

The person whom she refused to kiss on the cheek in middle school, scrunching her nose because he was a boy and he was gross. The person who caught her when she tripped and fell in high school at the ice skating rink, likely saving her from a broken ankle, but certainly not a busted ego. Also the person who she fucked a handful of times. Okay, more than a handful.

An actual fucking date, with all of the romantic aspects thrown into the dish, rather than garnished on top with a mockery of true aesthetic design. No more dancing around the truth, no way to fuck it out in the comforts of a messy bed and hazy midnight vision. Real consequences to be felt… as if none of their behavior had had consequences already.

Oh my god, I can’t do this, she thinks.

What is she even supposed to wear?

Jeongguk, what should I wear tomorrow?

jeon jeongguk: um

jeon jeongguk: probably clothes

jeon jeongguk: for once

Read, 10:14pm. You’re an actual dick.

jeon jeongguk: is now an appropriate time for me to send my own uno card

jeon jeongguk: anyways wear something nice but like

jeon jeongguk: not ridiculously nice y’know

Read, 10:14pm. That’s… incredibly unhelpful.

jeon jeongguk: don’t wear a wedding gown but don’t wear a t shirt n booty shorts

jeon jeongguk: even tho u look good in a t shirt n booty shorts

Read, 10:15pm. When have you ever seen me in a t-shirt and booty shorts?

You know what, don’t answer that question. I’ll figure it out. Ty

jeon jeongguk: bye

She tosses her phone to the bed and frowns, flips through the clothes hangers in her closet, pauses to finger a shirt sleeve. What could he even have to offer on a date? Where would he take her? Would they stay in? Go out? What could you offer to impress someone who’s seen every facet of you growing up and knows you inside and out whether or not either of you like to admit it?

Is she enough?

She shakes her head. She can’t be thinking like this before the date’s even happened.

She’d just have to wait and see.

Oh, how she hated waiting.

At 2:47pm on Friday afternoon, her phone buzzed.

jeon jeongguk: leaving now bc traffic, be there in 15

Read, 2:47pm. See you in a few.

At 2:59pm, a black four-door pulled up in front of her apartment building, and at 3:01pm, she pulled open the passenger’s door and slid inside.

“Hey,” Jeongguk said, taking the car out of park. “What’s good?”

“Only you could begin a date by saying ‘what’s good’,” she teased, shifting the buckle so it fell comfortably across her shoulder. “And for the record, I’m good, thanks.”

A smile tinged his lips as he spared a glance across the car, looking her up and down. “A leather jacket and combat boots. You look more than good.”

It was her turn to appreciate him- lean thighs clad in tight-fitting black jeans; off-white dress shirt tucked neatly at the waist, rolled at the elbows, unbuttoned at the collar. “As do you.” She snickered, elbowing him. “I didn’t even know you owned anything other than monochome tee shirts.”

Jeongguk raised an eyebrow, sparing a quick glance over his shoulder before merging into traffic. “Again, there are a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

She glanced over at him, tongue in cheek. “Care to tell me about them?”

He smirked, foot tapping the brake. “Oh, you’ll find out in time. Oh, and speaking of time-” he checked his watch. “-we have a long drive ahead of us. Aux cord is yours.”

“Did you really just give me the aux cord? So I can play my, oh, how did you put it- ‘shitty ass spawn of country music and dollar-store trap’?”

“Old Town Road is not real music, don’t you dare tell me otherwise-”

“Mm, but you gave me the cord-” she teased, swinging it around her index finger. “It’s my radio now, country boy.”

“Can we compromise with Post Malone?” Jeongguk begged, a hint of a whine in his voice. “Beerbongs and bentleys is where it’s at, plus I’d rather claw out my ears than hear ‘I got the horses in the back’ one more time-”

“Done,” she tapped at her phone, and as the opening chords of Sugar Wraith sang through the car speakers, they both visibly relaxed.

Perhaps she’d been anxious for absolutely nothing. It all felt the same here in his Jeep, like every day by his side had been before he’d turned a cold shoulder and disappeared for months. Nothing new, everything familiar, too familiar.

Had it been this easy to be with him all along?

By the end of the first half hour, Jeongguk had rapped more than half of the album, and she was impressed by the fact that his singing voice wasn’t, as she’d assumed in the past, absolute shit. “When were you going to tell me you can sing better than an autotuned Post can?”

He raised and lowered one shoulder, hand comfortable on the rim of the wheel. He looked so damn fine, effortless with a sharp jawline and a gentle smile. “I’m not that good. I can carry a tune and that’s about it.”

“Lies, Gukkie. You have a lovely voice.”

She noticed a hint of pink in his cheeks.

By the end of the first hour, the impenetrable rows of buildings had faded to flat land and open road. She gazed out the window, elbow propped up on the sill, and Jeongguk allowed himself a look at her. Not a hair out of place, finely polished, not too much makeup. Perfect. So utterly, wonderfully perfect.

He wondered when she would ask how much longer, and five minutes after the first hour, she answered his question. “Are you planning to take me on a romantic roadside picnic, Guk?”

“And if I was?” he hummed quietly to the melody filtering through the speakers.

“You wouldn’t drive an hour out of the city to do so; this is the person who walks everywhere, god forbid his bicycle leave his apartment.”

“You’re right,” he affirmed. “Just a half hour more. I think.”

“You think? What happens if we get stuck out here in the middle of nowhere?”

“I have twenty bucks and a working Metrocard, we’ll be fine.”

“We’re not even in the city!”

“Shhhh.”

At an hour and twenty-eight minutes exactly, the car slowed, bumping along as Jeongguk pulled into a parking lot that was more dirt than asphalt. She’d dozed off about twenty minutes ago, cheek smushed against the seatbelt, and his heart glows warm when he parks and finally looks over at her. His hand finds its way to hers, and he rubs the back of it gently. “We’re here.”

She wakes slowly, eyelids fluttering in a moment of confusion, and his thumb rubs over her knuckles. “Where-” She sees him smiling, and she’s instantly alert. “Oh no.”

He lets her hand fall with a final squeeze. “Oh yes.”

“I don’t trust you,” she chuckles breathlessly. “Where the actual fuck are we, Je-”

The rest of her statement is cut off by Jeongguk hopping the few inches from the lip of his Wrangler to the ground, and when he circles the car to collect her, her face is scrunched in confusion. “You drove thirty miles outside of the city for this run-down shack of a restaurant? It’s barely anything Gukkie, are you sure we’re in the right place?”

He turns to regard the one-story restaurant, pop-up roof signs peeling in their age, before nodding firmly, decisively. “I’m sure.”

She follows him inside, mumbling something about being assaulted by the dinner crowd, and Jeongguk strolls up to the maître d′ like he’s done this every day of his life. Maybe it’s the over-starched dress shirt. He swears it’s hugging his frame just a little too tight.

She misses the reservation name, spoken too softly and too quickly for her to hear, but she has no reason to suspect anything, not even when they settle at a corner table set with two places and a vase of four roses. She’s handed a menu, which she accepts with a polite word of thanks, and it’s when she sees the name of the restaurant in bright block font at the top of the page that she pauses. In one moment, the oxygen drains from her lungs, and the past comes alive before her eyes like a film reel, rewound for his and her pleasure.

She’s frozen across the table, lights dancing in her eyes in neon hues, flickering in her irises, countless bursts of color in pink and green and yellow. When he glances up to ask if she’d like to order appetizers, he swears he can hear her heart explode in her chest, crashing and roaring and perhaps aching just a little, too. His own beats just a little bit faster when he sees tears glimmer in her eyes, pinprick stars in her cosmos. “Jeongguk, how did you-”

“Find the only Moonlight Diner in three hundred fifty miles?” He relaxes, nudges the table leg with the toe of his shoe. “Turns out there’s only two in a thousand mile radius. One of which is at home, the other of which is, well- here.”

“Y-you-” she can barely get the words out, so overwhelmed is she with nostalgia and heartache and just a little bit of relief. “You found our childhood diner chain and you brought me here on a fucking date, Jeongguk, I-”

Her hands tremble on the corners of the menu as Jeongguk makes incredibly awkward eye contact with the impending waitress, who turns on her heel when she sees the scene in front of her. Something in his throat seizes with anxiety. “Is this okay? Did I do something wrong? Fuck, I-”

“Jeongguk, shut the actual fuck up and let me bask in the fact that you did this for me,” she chokes out. “We spent how many years going to this diner back home, having french fry sword fights, spraying each other with ketchup, truth or dare rounds involving coleslaw in your-”

“I try to forget the colesaw incident,” Jeongguk winces. “But- But is it okay? I-” He squeezes the edge of the sickly green leather seat, white-knuckled. “I’m not crossing any boundaries?”

“I swear to god,” she’s crying now, out of her control, but for the first time in so long it’s a good kind of cry, and she curses her tendency to cry for him at the drop of a hat. “How the fuck- you know what, I don’t even want to know how you came up with this or what else you have planned. You son of a bitch, I love you.”

Jeongguk bites his lip. “That’s the most contradictory sentence I’ve ever heard, but I’ll take your word for it.”

She sniffles, wipes her eyes on the back of her hand. He passes her a napkin, and she dabs at her face. “Are you getting the bacon cheeseburger? With extra bacon and ketchup on the side, because you know I’m going to steal some?”

“Yes,” he admits gently. “That was the general plan.”

She smiles through her tears, chokes out a laugh. “Nothing’s changed, has it Jeongguk?”

He’s starting to well up now, eyes shining with pride and adoration and remembering, because he remembers now. He remembers what it’s like to joke, to laugh, to love without the vices of the everyday world surrounding him. It’s been so long since the feeling bubbled up in his throat; a memory flashes before his eyes of dancing in the rain, and just like the flow of water down a storm drain, it’s gone before he can grab it, explore it. It’s okay, let it go, he thinks. There’s a more important memory he needs to make here with her, and as she reaches for her fork to playfully poke his arm, he finds himself falling in love with her all over again.

It is with full bellies and warming hearts that the two leave the run-down diner, clutching strawberry milkshakes and reveling in memories long-forgotten. There’s a bounce in her step and he’s beaming like the moonlight that lies silver across the breadth of the parking lot, shines off of the hood of his worn-out car. He can’t remember the last time he’s felt alive like this, without the help of his vices. He had thought he never would again.

He slides into the driver’s seat, pulling the door closed behind him, and she hops into the passenger’s side. “Home, now?”

“I mean, if you really want to.” He buckles himself in. “But there’s one more place I wanna take you.”

Her teeth shine bright as she smiles. “Where to, Gukkie?”

His heart flutters at the use of the nickname. “You’ll see.”

As the moonlight stretches long across the cracked road and his hand finds hers on the center console, Jeongguk turns the car back towards the city, heart beating just a bit faster than before.

Flat land rolls, tumbling end over end into buildings that grow longer and taller until the city envelopes the single black Jeep. The ride is spent in a comfortable silence, her thumb running over his knuckles, lazily playing with his fingers. She doesn’t miss the smile that graces his face, the way his eyes gleam with the nebulae of a thousand swirling galaxies. She wouldn’t mind getting lost in them more often.

He marvels at how small her fingers are, how easy it is for two of them to wrap around merely one of his. He wonders what it would be like to kiss each knuckle, treating each with care before they fall asleep with interlocked hands and limbs, and for the first time, he doesn’t feel guilty about imagining the possibilities.

A few blocks before her apartment, Jeongguk pulls over and parks. The sidewalks throng at this hour, individual faces blurring in the crowds, and when they meet around the front of the car, she takes his arm. “Are you absolutely positive you didn't just bring me home?” She teases.

“Nope,” he gives her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “There’s one more place we’re going, promise.”

He knows the way by heart, the place he discovered three months ago by accident that had ignited a little-known nostalgic streak in him. It’s a right on 65th West and a left on 15th North, go straight four blocks (five?) and a right on 53rd and then it’s there in front of him in all of its childhood glory. He pats his pocket, makes sure its contents are still intact.

“We’re here,” Jeongguk announces. 

“A playground,” she murmurs.

“Do you know why?” He asks.

“Where would we go after the diner?” She laughs quietly, disbelievingly. “The playground.”

“It’s got the three swings and everything,” he offers. “And the little ship’s bow with the climbing nets.”

“I can’t believe you.” She stands on her toes and kisses his cheek. His skin tingles where her lips press. “You’re incredible.”

“I’m really not,” he answers shyly. “I just think about these things is all.”

“Hey.” She pokes his ribs, a hint of teasing in her voice, and she’s off in a flash. “You’re it!”

“You- Get back here!” Jeongguk staggers back and then lunges forward, sprinting after her, past the monkey bars and the climbing wall. The playground is deserted save them, two fully-grown adults playing a chaotic game of tag, and he can’t even stop to think how ridiculous it may look to onlookers. He realizes then that he doesn’t care, because she’s within arms reach, nearly his, just a little bit farther, and he reaches just an inch more and snags her by the waist.

She trips over her own feet and tumbles, bringing him down with her, but he rolls to take the brunt of the fall. Loose stones on the colored rubber dig into his back and she’s heavy on his chest, but he’s breathless with laughter and her teeth flash as she too dissolves into giggles. His ribs ache as he wraps an arm around her, but it’s a good sort of ache, and as she hoists herself to her elbows resting over him, a loose lock of her hair brushes against his cheek.

“You’re such a brat,” He teases, his tongue poking his cheek.

“You’re such an dunce,” She responds, head tilting cockily.

“Dunce? When’s the last time anyone said dunce? Come on, you can come up with something better than that!” He pokes her ribs and she squeaks. “Asshole, thrice-cursed bastard, son of a fu-”

“Enough out of you,” she kids. “I’m not feeling creative today.”

“What if I was?” He lets his head fall back, tresses flopping messily on his forehead. “How about douchebag? Dickwad? Bi-”

“Shut up!”

“Make me.”

“And how would I go about that, hm?” Her fingers walk up his chest.

“Like this.” And in a rush of movement and fear and elation, Jeongguk closes the distance between her lips and his own, the oxygen draining from his lungs as he presses a kiss to her mouth.

It’s as if the entire world has stopped to take a breath with him, the rustling of the trees and the creaking of the swings frozen in a moment of infinitesimal, earth-shattering stillness. Her lips are soft against his; she tastes like strawberry Chapstick and vanilla milkshake, a drug on his tongue like any other. His hand is at the base of her spine and hers is at the back of his head, threaded through his hair. He is drunk and sober all at once, dizzy yet alert of a thousand sensations at once; he can feel her exhale and the way her weight shifts on his hips and the way her nose grazes his when he pulls away.

Her breath is faint on Jeongguk’s lips, a rush of dizzying intimacy, and then she’s pressing her lips to his, mouthing at their soft plush; he snags her bottom lip between his teeth as his fingers tuck under her jacket, settle against the curve of her side, crave the warmth of her skin against his.

Her fingers twist, the long, shaggy locks knotting around the slender digits as her nails meet his scalp and he groans from the feeling.

He sighs her name against her mouth, held sacred in the coveted pause of the universe, and when her eyes flutter open, he is locked into the emotion that sings so freely from her dark pupils. It entrances him, ensnares him in her web, a siren singing from her rock. He is utterly transfixed by her, and when she blinks once, twice, the haze is lifted. He is suddenly aware of the leaves scraping the ground, the slightly colder air that settles over them as wispy clouds roll in front of the moon. He leans in just a little bit, hoping to get that much closer, desperately chasing the high, but a finger to his lips stills him.

“Hi,” he says, breathy and unbelieving.

“Hey you.” There’s a smile on her face, but it’s matched by an expression he can’t quite read. His hand trails down her arm and she hesitates. “Guk, I-” she begins, stops.

“What is it, baby?” His fingers dance down her spine, settle at the base.

“Jeongguk, I don’t know if I’m ready for a relationship yet.”

And that’s when his world comes crashing down.

“I just- I don’t know if I can do this yet. I don’t know if I can be who you need me to be right now. I can’t come find you every time you get yourself shitfaced and need someone to bring you home.” She rolls onto one elbow, pushes herself into a sitting position next to him; his arm slips to the side. “I’m sorry.”

“Is that what this is about?” He too sits upright, matches her position. “My habits are the make-or-break for you?”

“That’s not what I said,” she gently corrects. “Because I know you told me that you want to get clean, you don’t want me to be embarrassed of you, and I’m not, Jeongguk. I’m really not. But I don’t think I am who you need in a girlfriend. You deserve someone who’s going to be able to give you time, and right now that’s one thing I don’t have.”

“Who do you think I need in a girlfriend, then? I don’t ‘need’ anybody except for you. You don’t see what I see,” he insists, gesturing widely. “You’re brilliant and warm and you’ve got everything ahead of you. I don’t even deserve you but I want you. Can’t you see? I’d do anything for you.” His cheeks heat; his arms fall. “Is casual fucking easier for you than a relationship because you don’t have to dedicate time to it?”

Her own face flushes in the dim moonlight, rosy hues darkening the apples of her cheeks. “That’s not true and you know it, Jeongguk. What about all the times you stayed over till morning? Or I stayed over your apartment for two days straight? I’m trying to be honest with you, I really am.” There’s hurt in her voice but the blood rushing in his ears drowns out the world around him, the pit in his stomach swallowing every good feeling. “I’m telling you the truth not because I want to hurt you, but because I don’t want you chasing a ghost of something for the rest of your life.”

“But you love me back,” he sounds small even to his own ears. “You love me back.”

“I do.” She takes his larger hand in two of hers. “I love you Jeongguk, so fucking much, but right now I don’t know if I’m ready for us.”

“But what about tonight? What about this? The diner, the playground? You can’t tell me you didn’t feel something,” he begs. “I felt something.”

“I did feel something, yes,” she admits. “Tonight with you was incredible, Guk. You didn’t have to do any of it, but you did anyways.”

“I did it all for you. Can’t you see that?” Jeongguk stands, shoulders tensing, heart breaking. “Can’t you see what I would do for you and more? Can’t you see what I want to do for you? I’ll buy you a dozen roses every day, I’ll raze a mountain, I’ll be whoever you want me to be if you’d just let me fucking love you!” He doesn’t even realize he’s shouting until the sound of his voice rings down the deserted block, and then it sinks in that he shouted at her. She’s shaking just enough for him to notice, and when guilt sinks its needle teeth into his gut, he deflates.

“I’m trying to protect you, Guk.” She stands too, head bowed, refusing to make eye contact. He hates himself for doing this to her. “My only hope is that you’ll realize that soon.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“It’s okay.” She smiles, but it’s painfully empty. She takes a step towards him, pats his arm. “I know the way to my apartment from here. Get home safe, Jeongguk.”

He can’t even bring himself to offer to walk her home, for it’s as if he blinks once and he’s alone, standing firmly planted in the middle of an urban playground, the swings creaking a faint melody as the street light winks a dull amber above him. He reaches into his coat pocket and withdraws a single red rose, examining the crushed petals, mangled from the impact of her having fallen on top of him.

She loves me. She loves me not.

Jeongguk runs his thumb across the stem, wincing as he snags the digit on a thorn.

She loves me not.

For the first time in what feels like forever, her phone is silent.

It doesn’t sigh with a seductive feminine air, the sound of his ringtone slicing through her apartment with a piercingly high-pitched moan. It probably made the neighbors raise an eyebrow on quiet mornings, but they kept her up with the sounds of their late-night trysts anyway. She guessed it was only fair.

Hey Guk, hope you’ve been doing alright. Call me tonight if you get a chance, I finally got around to watching Santa Clarita Diet and wow, you weren’t kidding when you said it’s oddly wholesome as fuck.

One day turns into two, and then three. The first post she sees on Jeongguk’s social media is of a blurry red cup in a filmy haze that is all too familiar, and a fire burns low in her gut.

Hey uh, so my shower head came off and I don’t know how to reattach it. Any advice?

P.S., I should note. In regards to the last text, it came off randomly, not because I sat on it or something. Seriously.

The second is of scraped palms and grinding bodies, heavy trap music blasting from a car stereo, bass thumping wildly.  Four days turns into a week, then a week and a half.

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Look at this dog I just saw on the subway. It’s dressed as Marilyn Monroe. I’m not shitting you. I found the costume on Amazon for $25.

The third involves a crowd of strangers and a beer keg, and she doesn’t care to describe it in any further detail.

Hi Jeongguk, I haven’t heard from you in a little while and wanted to ask if you’re doing alright. If you don’t want to hear from me, please just tell me and I’ll stop texting you.

Nothing.

He knows she’s seen his posts. He most certainly knows how they make her feel, too. He knows the game they play, for provocation is an old friend of theirs, made known in the pictures and videos he displays for the world to see. Bad habits, it seems, are easier to slip back into than to break after all.

Then, at the two-and-a-half week mark, late in the evening when she’s perched on the couch in pajamas and a face mask, she sees it.

A blurry photo, taken in a dark bedroom, flash illuminating a bare back, navy sheets twisted around the lower torso. Hair cascading down a pillow, pulled to the side just enough for a violet bruise to be visible, blossoming on the side of the mystery woman’s neck.

The candle flame dancing in her belly ignites into a fucking wildfire.

Before she can even think, she’s sent the text.

You asshole. I fucking hate you.

She doesn’t know if she’d prefer a response or utter silence.

Turns out, she gets the latter.

A month without him hurts.

As quickly as he’d tripped and fallen back into her life, Jeongguk was gone. Ten words out of her mouth and he’s fled back into the world he promised her he’d claw his way out of. The danger of betting your stakes on one person is that when they inevitably fall through, you’ll come crashing down even harder than anticipated. And he bet just about everything on her.

She throws herself into work, doing her best to forget. It’s hard, however, when everything reminds her of him. When a hooded stranger brushes past her on the subway,  sandalwood and sage graze her nostrils; suddenly she’s wrapped in bedsheets, surrounded by cologne and the musk of sex. Instant ramen is a reminder of shitty rom-coms on snowy Tuesday nights and the warmth of a blanket covering tangled legs. Even an Overwatch figurine brings back endless numbers, countless statistics that were rattled off at the mere mention of the O-word. She misses him even more acutely than before.

Jeongguk seems to have made quick work of the past, the chronicles of his new present documented in late-night Snapchat trysts. She sees one, two, three girls decorating his page, and yet they last one post and never appear again. She wonders if they’re merely even just for show.

She gave up hope that week, the fourth week without him. The boy she loved, the man who slotted so easily into her life despite their differences. He was gone, having fled the scene of the crime with the evidence bag, leaving the splintered fragments of her heart behind. And he did so without a second thought.

It was so easy for her to hate him. It was so easy for her to burn the Polaroid photographs they’d taken together, to delete text messages and the playful reminders he set on her phone, to cut out every single scrap of evidence she had that he ever existed. It was so easy to scrub the physical reminders from her surroundings like blood from dirtied fingernails.

And yet, she didn’t. She couldn’t.

Jeongguk wasn’t the easily hated type. At least, not to her.

He had so much of her that he took for granted. The sides that she revealed of herself to him, the only one who even knew they existed, could never be taken back. Whether he liked it or not, he had held her in the palm of his hands, cradling her like a bird with a broken wing. And when it came down to things, he dropped her without a second thought.

After all they’d been through, she couldn’t bring herself to do the same.

That just wasn’t her way.

Bent over the sink, she brushes a strand of hair out of her face with a soapy glove, doubling her attention on a greasy pan.

Some said she forgave too easily. Some said she was too quick to leap to the defenses of others, too trusting in those who had access to her heart. She had always struggled to go against the grain, push back against the very thing that resonated deep in the marrow of her bones. Whether she could help it or not, it was simply who she was, for better or for worse, deep down at her core. It was, at least, who she thought she was.

She scrubs harder at a troublesome crumb of grizzle.

She wasn’t so sure anymore.

3:14am.

She stretches, blinks wearily, squints at the clock on the nightstand table.

She must’ve been imagining things.

Her eyes flutter shut, chasing the alluring clutches of sweet, blessed slumber.

SLAM!

“What the fuck- goddamnit.”

It must be the neighbors’ headboard again.

SLAM!

Her eyes shoot open, because there’s another, more primal sound that accompanies the earth-shattering noise that seems to be emanating from the opposite side of her apartment.

She throws the sheets back, inching across her apartment. Every impact against her front door sounds, to her groggy self, like a bass drum amplified to fill every nook and cranny of her skull. Surely, every neighboring suite would be awoken by the noise, wondering what could 31 could possibly be doing awake at this hour, and why it sounded like a rhinoceros was throwing a temper tantrum in the hallway.

She edges her way to the door, peers through the hole to inspect the contents of the hallway, but nothing seems out of place.

That is, save the choked, heart-wrenching sob that vibrates through the thin wall.

Her fingers close around the doorknob and she pulls, revealing an empty corridor, darkened and silent.

She looks right, and all is quiet.

She looks left, squints a little, and there’s a standing figure slumped against the wall, fingers gripping the chipped doorframe, head braced against the plaster.

“‘M sorry,” are the first words that tumble in a rush out of Jeongguk’s mouth, slurred and heavy.

She moves to close the door over, slowly so that she doesn’t accidentally slam his fingers in the gap, but he shifts to extend one leg, effectively trapping the door open. “Please-”

“Jeongguk-”

“Please,” he looks up at her for the first time, the utter brokenness in his eyes trapping her heart in her throat. His cheeks are stained with tracks of moisture, tears rolling from his waterline as he slumps. “Please.”

The microcosmoi in his pupils swirl, miniature galaxies that are flecked with dappled brown and raven black, eddy with agony and the deepest ache. They speak to her own, the conflict of her heart haunting her inner landscape, and she sighs, hating herself, hating this all-too familiar scene. “No matter where you start, you always end up back here.”

“No matter where I start, you always end up fucking with me somehow,” he exhales, alcohol-tinged breath fanning her face. She barely recoils.

“I thought you said last time was the last time.”

“‘M not as drunk as last time.”

“That doesn’t change a thing and you know it, Jeon Jeongguk.”

“Take me in again, maybe I’ll r’member it this time.” He shudders, hand relaxing on the frame, knees buckling.

She catches him as he lurches forward, arms linking around his waist to support him, stepping backwards into her apartment and stumbling to the couch, where she deposits him into the cushions with a huff. “You know, you’re lucky I didn’t leave you outside. I didn’t want the neighbors calling the cops on you.”

“And if they did?” An audible thump emanates as his head hits the back of the couch, lolling aimlessly. “You’d bail me out an’ways.”

“You don’t know that,” she hisses, dragging the garbage pail to the couch from its ready position by the refrigerator. 

“May be drunk but ’m not stupid,” he breathes, running a hand through the tangled strands of hair that frame his damp face, spill over his brow. “Love makes people do things they wouldn’ admit to in front of God himself.”

“And when did you get so religious?”

“There’s something spiritual about this,” he gestures to the empty room, legs splayed. “The high an’ then the fall. It’s too good to be true an’ then you’ve got a taste and it’s all you want, over and over, ‘til it all comes crashin’ down and then cold reality fuckin’ hits an’ it stings like a motherfuckin’ bitch.”

She stares down at him. “You do it to yourself when you try to drown out the pain. We either learn how to cope or bury it deep down until it rears its head again and then you’re back where you started. Maybe it’s time you tried coping instead of pretending that your hurt doesn’t exist.”

“An’ why do I d’serve that after all the hurt ‘ve dealt you?” His jawline catches the faint light of the corner lamp, casting his profile in shadow. 

“Because you’re a human being, Guk? You’re human like the rest of us, the same flesh and blood.” She kneels at his feet, hand cautiously brushing his knee, then settling. He intakes harshly, shuddering.

“‘M so fucked up an’ you know that an’ you stay. An’ that’s why you won’ date me, ‘cause of this. Disgustin’, fuckin’ asshole me-”

“Jeongguk, you know that’s-”

“‘M so fucked up an’ you know that an’ you stay ‘cause you love me, but you won’ confess to God,” his chest heaves and she stands over him, grabs the pail. “You won’ ‘fess to the one who really matters.”

“Who really matters then? God or you?” She shakes her head. “If you think other people need to see us together for the way I feel about you to be validated, you’re completely wrong.”

“Then why do you hide me?” He stifles a sob with the back of his hand, fresh tears threatening to spill.

Her careful ministrations on his knee pause. “Because I like having you to myself,” she confesses quietly.

“We’ve n’ver been a thing,” his gaze fixes steadily on her face. “N’ver been a real thing.”

“We’ve always been exclusive, though.” She gently squeezes his thigh. “I know you, Jeongguk. And I know that deep down, you commit even if you won’t open your mouth and tell me. I was your first just as you were mine.”

He goes to say something but pauses, eyes wide, face white. Without pause, she lifts the pail and he grabs at the base, burying his face in the mouth and retching. Her fingers brush his hair back from his face, the dampness of his skin clinging to hers, and his whole body shudders in dry heaves. He spits one final time and wipes his mouth with his sleeve. “‘Ve been yours from the start.”

“I know, Guk.”

“An’ you never though’ to ask?”

Her eyes flicker to the tear in one cushion, the white stuffing a stark contrast to the dark couch. “I did.”

“An’?”

“You can’t just casually ask your best friend if they’ve been in love with you for your entire lives.”

“We n’ver kept much from each other an’ways.”

Her fingers pause in his hair. “If that’s the case, then answer me something.”

His grip around the bucket tightens.

She inhales once, twice. “Jeongguk, are you running from us?”

His jaw flexes, stiffens.

Her voice lowers. “If we never kept much from each other, why are you running away from this, right now?”

“Shu’ up,” he hisses.

She withdraws her hand; his bangs tumble in his eyes and he tosses his head. “You’re afraid of us, Guk,” she challenged. “You’re afraid of something that’s too good to be true, so you bury the way you feel because it’s easier than admitting you’re afraid of losing your best friend when shit goes south. You’re afraid of throwing everything we have away because one of us will inevitably fuck up, but you don’t have the security of knowing if we’ll make it through. So rather than give your heart away as one whole, you divide it up, partition it off, let me see bits and pieces while keeping the rest under lock and key. But Jeongguk, I’ve seen you. I’ve seen your heart bleed and sing and grieve and I’ve seen it love, too. I know you better than anyone else does. You don’t have to run from me.”

A moment of silence, weighted and thick, hangs low like fog.

When a horrible sob tears its way from his throat, she’s right there to hold him, let him wrap an arm around her waist and bury his face in her pajama shirt. Once again her hands find his hair, working out the knots in a manner she hopes is soothing. “You don’t have to be afraid of us, Jeongguk. You don’t need my validation to know that what we have is real.”

Words spill from the crumpled figure, alcohol seeping from the mouth of the bottle. “I love you,” he blubbers. “Love you so much.”

“I love you,” she assures. “I love you, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“Please don’,” he gasps. His hands cup her face with a tenderness only found in late nights, when the world is quiet and they have only the moon for company.

“I won’t.” She places her own over his before continuing, “You thought I turned you down because your habits are the ‘make-or-break’ for me. But Jeongguk, you were wrong. You weren’t ready then, and neither was I.”

He looks up at her, brows furrowing in confusion. “But my sorry drunk as’ is ready now?”

“You’re not afraid anymore.” Her arms link around his neck and she coughs once. “Neither of us is afraid anymore.”

When he says her name, she looks down, gaze meeting his. The warmth of her clasped hands heats the back of his neck; the strands of his hair brush her knuckles, and she toys with the clasp of the chain he wears. “‘M sorry.”

“It’s okay, Guk.”

“‘S really not. ‘M sorry for ignorin’ you an’ yellin’ at you back at the playground an’ jus’ generally being an’ asshole. Includin’ showin’ up at yer ‘partment an’ makin’ a scene.”

“It’s okay.” A tinge of a smile pulls at the corner of her mouth. “Thank you for the apology.”

He shrugs one shoulder. “You deserve that an’ so much more.”

She sees in his face the want to kiss her, and when he moves to reach her, she pulls away. “Please kiss me when you don’t reek of puke and Hennessy.”

He nods once. “Okay.”

She sighs, hands sliding to his shoulders, feeling the muscle flex under her fingertips as he trails his hands down her hips. “So it looks like we’re back to where we started.”

“Yeah,” he huffs, setting the pail down. “Goin’ in circles is our specialty, I guess.”

“Wanna try moving in a straight line for once?”

“Ar’ you sayin’ that ‘cause it’s like, four-thirty in the mornin’ and you wanna go back to bed?”

“Well, not completely.” She nudges the bucket away with one foot, the smell beginning to permeate the room. “I guess it’s my turn to ask again. What are we?”

A corner of his mouth tugs with a hint of familiarity. “Wha’d’you wan’ us to be?” “Together,” she says hesitantly, then more firmly. “Together, this time.”

“Together. I like that word.” His ministrations on her thighs, soft nondescript patterns traced by adoring fingers, spark heat under her skin.

“But Jeongguk-” she cuts herself off, then begins again. “Jeongguk, there’s gonna need to be some boundaries set.”

“Wha’d’you mean?” He hums.

“Well for starters, we’re going to need to communicate. Like, actually talk about the way we feel instead of just fucking it out, you know?” 

“Done,” he says with way more confidence then she feels. She attributes it to the fact that he’s still utterly wasted.

“It’s not just that, Guk. You can’t run away from this boyfriend thing, and you can’t get completely shitfaced if we have a fight, because then I’ll be the one holding you as you cough your lungs up and then you’ll feel guilty and the whole thing will just repeat itself.”

Jeongguk waves his hand. “‘Ll figure it all out in the morning.”

And with a squeak, she’s hauled onto Jeongguk’s lap, his arms tightening around her as he gazes up at her and for the first time in a very, very long time, feels wholly and completely okay. “Can I kiss you if I brush my teeth firs’?”

“No, gross ass. And this isn’t really a figure it out later kind of thing-”

“Baby,” He hopes he sounds reassuring. “‘Ve gotten this far, right? An’ we’ll get farther, and we’ll figure it out, an’ whatever happens happens, you know?”

“I can’t tell if this is sober you trying to be wise or drunk you trying to be prophetic. Either way, it’s not working.”

“‘Ll figure it out.” He tries to imbue as much warmth and understanding into his voice as humanly possible. To Jeongguk’s ears, he sounds like an angel. To hers, he slurs every other syllable.

“Jeongguk…” she wavers.

“Promise.” He crosses his heart and hooks his pinky finger in the air, waiting for hers just like, she remembers, they used to do in the treehouse in his backyard whenever they made a pact that was supposed to last the rest of their lives. 

She swallows her worry back and blinks, exhaustion tugging its subtle pull on her eyelids. “We will talk about this in the morning.”

“Talk, talk, talk. The firs’ thing ‘m doing in the morning is kissing you real soft an’ slow, because ‘ve got you to myself now, and ‘m gonna revel in it as much ‘s I can.” Jeongguk flexes his pinky. “C’mon. Promise.”

Her digit wraps around his as she murmurs, “Promise.”

His teeth glint as he smiles, a real, slightly loopy Jeongguk smile. “You’re precious.”

She taps the bridge of his nose. “You’re so drunk.”

“I know,” his eyes are glassy and he almost warbles. “I may be drunk righ’ now, but you’re beautiful even when ’m sober.”

She wrinkles her nose in faux disappointment. “That is no way to treat your brand-new girlfriend, Mister Jeon.”

“Girlfriend?” He relaxes into the couch, limbs limp, then sits up and moves to stand. “Jus’ fuckin’ marry me already, baby. Les’ get married-”

She pushes on his chest with ease and he falls without concern. “Ab-so-lutely not, good sir.”

His hands dance down her body to quickly grope her ass. “Why not?” Jeongguk squeaks as her nimble fingers slide down his chest, playfully pinching his nipple. “Fuckin’ love it when you call me sir.”

“I thought you preferred daddy. Besides, you gotta get past boyfriend status first, mister I’m-only-married-to-my-Twitch-Prime-subscription.”

“Tha’ was like, fifteen years ago.”

“Days,” she corrects.

“Whatever. Fuck, you’re an angel,” he groans. 

“Not quite. I don’t think angel will be the name that comes to mind in the morning when you’re hungover as fuck. Again.”

“Last time this happens. Promise this time.” He kneads her thigh, causing warmth to blossom in her chest.

She leans forward to plant a kiss on his forehead. “We’ll see.”

Jeongguk suddenly wrinkles his nose. “Baby, wha’s that?”

“What do you m- Guk, did you knock over the garbage pail?”

“Oh fuck, uh-”

She clambors off of his lap, side-stepping the offending mess. “I’m about to clean an entire gut’s worth of cognac-infused vomit off of my living room floor. You’re really, really lucky that we’re back on unofficially-but-now-officially-dating terms, because let me tell you- wait, did you get it on the rug, too?”

“Y’know, is’ not too late to change those terms.”

“Shut up and go get me the spray bottle under the sink.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Are you always this obedient? You’re holding out on me in the bedroom.”

Jeongguk winks at her from across the apartment, sliding a casual arm behind his head. “Only for you, baby. Only for you.”

[illneverrecover]

Better When it Feels Wrong (m)

➛pairing: saeran x reader/MC  ;   unknown x reader/MC ➛genre: halloween shenanigans. smut. porn with a plot if you squint really hard. ➛word count: 4,643  ➛rating: nsfw/mature ➛warnings: alcohol use, rough sex, unprotected sex, slight dom/sub, rough oral/face fucking (male & female receiving), over-stimulation, squirting ➛notes: Well, here it is! This is the piece I wrote for the @2019loveforallseasons project, which has been released (and is gorgeous, if I say so myself). I was very honored to be included in this with some amazing people, and am grateful for the experience. It still weirds me out to think people own physical copies of my smut, but in a good way 😜. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, let me know what you think!

“Truth or Dare?”

“Really Trustfund, you’re asking me?” Zen scoffed, swigging the last dregs of his beer before reaching for a new one.

“Do you have trouble understanding the question? Would you like me to repeat it for you...slower?” Jumin smirks, pouring the remains of a vintage red into his and Jihyun’s glasses.

You couldn’t help but laugh; the light buzz of alcohol pumping through your veins, tinting your cheeks. This wasn’t what you had expected when you invited the RFA over for a planning meeting. The Halloween Bash was only a few days away and there was still so much that needed to be finalized. However, the sight of your boyfriend slumped against his twin, laughing loudly at Zen’s disdain, would surely make tomorrow’s hangover worth it.

Saeran looks down at you before throwing his arm over your shoulder, amusement pulling at his lips as he takes in your glassy eyes and drunk-flushed face. He truly is beautiful, you think, still amazed by the fact that you’re lucky enough to call him your own.

Staring into his eyes, you didn’t hear what Zen was asked to do after he agrees to ‘dare’, instead leaning up to press a quick and small kiss to the side of Saeran’s mouth. While you had been together for a while now, the euphoria of being able to kiss him, to touch him had yet to fade. You linger for a moment, relishing in the way his skin feels under your lips.

It’s the cries of laughter that pulled your attention back the room. Zen was swinging his hips slowly to the music that, up until now, had served only as background noise, sashaying himself closer and closer to a very flustered Jaehee. When his arms cross to whip his shirt off, swinging it in circles over his head, Saeyoung stands up, screeching.

“Okay! Enough, enough! It’s been more than 30 seconds!”

“But I was just getting into it!” Zen pouts, shrugging and sitting back down, reaching for his beer.

Jumin’s eyes were brimming with tears, his hand wiping them away as they spilled over his lashes and down his ripened cheeks. It only took a glance to let you know that Yoosung and Jihyun weren’t fairing much better.

These idiots.

You love them.

“Okay, so that leaves…Oh. It’s your turn,” Jaehee smiles at you, nodding her head as you reach for the drink in front of you and shot it back. The soju burned, but you love the pleasant thrum – only rivaled by the way Saeran was smoothing circles into your shoulder.

“What will it be? Truth or da-“

“Actually, Jaehee, I haven’t gotten to ask anyone yet. Let me take this one.”

You roll your eyes as Saeyoung waggles his eyebrows at you. You know that he was taking this game very seriously and instantly realized that if he was the one asking, there was only one, definitive answer.

“Fine. Truth. And don’t pout at me – your dares are honestly terrifying.” You pour yourself another shot, fingers circling the glass.

“What’s one fantasy you have?”

“Pfff, really? And you call yourself a God-”

“I wasn’t finished. What’s one fantasy you’ve had...that you’ve never told Saeran?”

You gulp then, your eyes widening with a glare. That little shit. He looked beyond pleased, a hand coming to rest under his chin as he stares at you expectantly. Shifting nervously, you peer at Saeran in your peripherals,  attempting to gage his reaction.

He gives away nothing.

Your mind immediately goes back to that night…the first time he showed Unknown to you, all those months ago at Saeyoung’s apartment. Unknown...he was rough and dominating; his words clipped and bruised, demanding obedience, and as much as you hated to admit it, you couldn’t help the rush of arousal that pooled in your belly. Ever since returning, he treated you reverently, like a precious piece of glass, one that would crack too easy. Gentle and nurturing, he still pleased you every time you were intimate, always checking in and making sure your needs were met first. But you knew he was holding back, and there was a part of you that wanted him to take control again – to be rough and have you begging. You wanted to be ruined.

Of course you hadn’t told him this. He was still healing from the years of trauma, not to mention that you were perfectly happy with how things were. But, he did ask for a fantasy…and you know if you lied, they would know. Both of those demon boys.

“Um…can I pass?”

“No.”

“I hate when you two speak in unison.”

“Then answer the question, babe.”

Suddenly remembering the shot in your hand, you down it quickly, wincing. Pulling in a shaky breath, you look everywhere except at the white-haired man beside you. “Uh, well, I sometimes think about…Saeran tapping into his ‘Unknown’ side a bit more.” You practically launch for the bottle, refilling your glass quickly, face hidden.

“What does that mean?” Yoosung’s head lolls to the side like a puppy.

“It means our little party planner likes it rough. Kinky,” Saeyoung winks, and poor Yoosung’s face turns bright red.

You choke a bit on the liquor, sputtering into the back of your hand and sending a pointed glare at your boyfriend’s twin. “So anyway, moving on...” You silently hoped someone would take over the conversation before the shameful flush that was working its way up your face reached your ears.

It was a squeeze at your thigh that had you looking over to him finally, a small reassuring smile on his face. He was opening his mouth to say something further, when another voice cut him off.

“My baby brother is a secret freak, huh? I mean, I should’ve been able to guess, with the collar and chains and everything...”

“Saeyoung, sincerely fuck off,” Saeran deadpanned, eyes rolling as the hacker roars into a fit of laughter. The unsolicited comments continued, and even Zen began chiming in, not missing the chance to take the heat off his own back. It was only when Jumin starting offering tips, much to your horror, that Jihyun finally clapped to get everyone’s attention, suggesting that the group end the night there. You offered him a grateful smile. Admitting your fantasy to your boyfriend was tough enough, you didn’t need your closest friends harping on it all evening.

A quick look at the clock tells you that he’s late. You huff impatiently, reaching for your phone to see if you have any missed texts.

None.

It wasn’t like Saeran to get delayed – not when it came to you, anyway –  and your anxiety flares at the thought  that he had changed his mind. Maybe the costume idea had sent him over the edge? You thought it was cute; you in your homemade Princess Peach costume, while he would be dressed as the Luigi to Saeyoung’s Mario. When Saeyoung first suggested it, your eyes lit up and looked to him expectantly, clapping with glee when he sighed but nodded his approval. But maybe it was too much?

The ring of the doorbell pulls you from your thoughts, and you move to grab your purse before heading to the door, ready to give him shit for making you wait. Which is why you were surprised when you open the door and found the wrong twin waiting for you.

“What the fuck, Saeyoung?”

“It’s not Saeyoung, it’s a-me, Mario!” He pinches the side of his obscenely thick, fake mustache.

You cock a hip, scoffing, “Mario, where is Luigi? Wasn’t he supposed to be picking me up?”

He reaches for your arm instead of answering, tugging you behind him towards his car. He had picked the red one for the evening, of course.

“He had to handle important plumber business. As the youngest and also the side kick, it was his duty.” He snorts then, realizing what he had said. This idiot. “Anyway, he’ll meet us there Princess, don’t worry!” He smiles at you, shutting the door and placed himself behind the wheel. For a brief moment, you could’ve sworn you saw the flicker of a smirk darken his features, but before you could even think about questioning it, he was back to beaming at you.

“Let’s-a go!”

“Please shut up.”

The event was a success, of course – the room was filled with costumed bodies, drinks being poured, heavy bass beats pulsing through the speakers near the dance floor. It didn’t take long to spot your fellow RFA members, offering a quick wave before resuming your search for the one person you wanted to see.

One scan of the floor yielded no results, so you made your way to the bar, requesting whatever red concoction that was currently in the punch bowl. Sipping to calm your nerves, you started your sweep yet again – and finally – you spot him.

Otherworldly ice green eyes pierce the crowd, his hand tangling through his errant bleached locks. A black hoodie was slung off of one shoulder, the obsidian inked eye tattoo on clear display, as well as the laced up red tank top showing off his toned, lean chest. A thick choker rested at the base of his throat; the roll of his adam’s apple drawing your gaze up his neck and to his eyes.

He smirks then and saunters to you, his eyes raking up and down your body. You could feel the heady lust as he drank in your appearance, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

Jesus fuck. He had changed his costume. He was Unknown.

“Well hello, Princess,” he cooed once he was within ear shot, his body looming as you unconsciously press your back into the wall. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Sae-“

“Ah, tsk tsk, Princess. That’s not my name and you know it.”

Swallowing thickly, you meet his eyes once more. Heart thrumming with anticipation, you attempt to clear your throat, your voice coming out as a pitched squeak, “Unknown. What are you doing here?”

“Mmm, much better.” His hand toyed with a strand of your hair, amusement ringing in his voice when you tremble under his touch. “Don’t play dumb. You know why I’m here...You asked me to be here.”

Your thighs clenched together at his husky tone, arousal wallowing shallowly in your gut. Biting your lip, you nodded instead of answering, gulping down the sickly sweet punch.

“Is Princess thirsty? Come on, let's refill your cup.”

Pulling at your arm, he started making his way back to the bar, dragging you behind him while you struggle to keep up. A new cup was forced into your grasp, and he studies your face as you take a tentative sip. Smiling, his right hand comes to rest dangerously low on your back.  “Follow me.”

Moving on autopilot, you’re guided away, mind churning with thoughts you couldn’t quiet. Was he serious? Did he really want to do this? Is he only doing this to make you happy? You steal a side glance at the towering man, cheeks rising with heat at the darkness swimming in his eyes, a sneer on his face. Fuck, it did make you happy…

The whipping of wind and the sudden blunt deafness of the music alert you that you’d been lead to the balcony, the patio large and overlooking the grounds of the property. Besides the twinkling of a few orange fairy lights draped over a pergola, it was mostly black, shadows blanketing concrete where the moon didn’t quite reach. Another gust of wind had you shivering, and it was then you finally looked around – no one else was crazy enough to be out here, it was freezing.

You were alone.

Suddenly, you’re falling backwards,  icy stone of the building making you arch and gasp. His mouth smothered yours, swallowing any noises you make. Strong hands that caged you now slide down until they’ve grasped your wrists, your forgotten cocktail slipping unnoticed as he pinned them both above your head.

Fire smolders in your veins, your eyes rolling back with the intensity of desire that slammed into your every nerve. He was licking into your mouth, demanding control, and you couldn’t remember the last time you had taken a breath – if you could even breathe. He was assaulting every single one of your senses, and you soon found yourself giving in to his devilish intoxication. His lips move lower, nipping gently at the tender flesh of your jaw and breathing hot on your ear. You couldn’t stifle your moan when he rolls his hips against your needy core, the friction delicious before he chuckles lowly. “You never could be quiet, could you? Don’t worry, I’ll have you screaming for me later. ” Pressing another wet kiss to the base of your throat, he pulls away. “But now it’s time to be a good girl and say goodbye to our friends.”

“But, Sae-” you stutter, catching yourself. “Unknown, we just got here. Our friends will notice we’re gone...”

“Say goodbye to your friends now, Princess, or you’ll be greeted with a punishment at home.”

Eyes widening, you stare up at the man in front of you, the rush of arousal at his words turning you into a puddle at his feet. Your body craved to give in to him, to submit, and for once you just wanted to let go. Steeling your resolve, you nod once, turning away with a look of determination on your face, pulling your boyfriend by the cuff of his jacket.

You didn’t say goodbye before you left.

Getting home was a blur, your heart and mind still reeling at what was happening...with what was about to happen. You aren’t sure if it’s the lingering effects of the alcohol consumed or just him, but the next thing you know, you’re in your bedroom, chest heaving as he finally released your mouth from a fervent kiss.

His grip was tight on your hips, mouth scraping and biting at your throat, your collarbone. Moans spill from your lips at an embarrassing speed as you clung to him like a lifeline. Just when one sensation would become too much – his tongue in your mouth, the sharp sting of teeth sinking into milky skin, his strong thigh pressing between your legs – he would move on to something new, always taking, taking, taking. Dizzy with greed, you give in to instincts, and fall pliable under his skilled mouth and hands.

You whine when his warmth leaves you, feeling exposed despite being fully clothed. His hungry glare trails up and down your body as he gasps for air.

Licking his lips, his darkened eyes boring into your own.

“Strip for me.”

It wasn’t a question but a demand.  You do as you were told, trembling hands removing your costume piece by piece; crown, gloves, and shoes tossed aside. Your fingers fumble with the zipper of the dress, refusing to find purchase. A soft ‘tsk’ had you looking his way; his expression was inpatient, eyes hard. “Do I have to do everything?”

Before you could question what that meant, his hands were spinning you, your back towards him. He grabbed the top and, without hesitation, ripped it down the seam, satisfied once the flimsy costume was in two pieces. You gasp when you feel his fingers trail up your spine, making quick work of your bra – which you are glad he decided to not tear to shreds – before you were facing him once more, only your lace panties left.

“On your knees, Princess. Be a good girl; don’t tease me.”

Wincing as your knees connected with the hard floor, you peer up at him through hooded eyes, the thought of having him on your tongue making you salivate. Licking your lips, you started to reach for him. “Ah, look how greedy you are for my cock,” he coos, batting your hands away to undo his jeans, sliding them down and off his body. You don’t move until he gives you a slight nod, reaching out to take his thick length into your hands and keening with pride at the hiss he lets out on contact. You place a kittenish lick at the head, swirling it lightly to collect the precum that had begun to pool there, before slowly tracing down his length. Thigh muscles jumped under your touch, and you know you are pushing the line of teasing – but you couldn’t stop yourself. Trailing lower, you press wet kisses on his balls, gently sucking the tender flesh into your mouth. The loud groan that releases from his throat was your reward, and you can’t help but moan when you see his eyes screwed shut, his face looking fucked out under your ministrations.

Just when you are beginning to feel smug, fingers tangle into the back of your hair tightly, wrenching you away from him completely. Titling you back until you could meet his glare, his free hand grabs your jaw, forcing your mouth open.

“I told you not to tease me, brat,” he growls, his hips pressing his dripping length closer to your pliant lips. “I really do have to do everything myself, don’t I?”

He thrusts himself inside your mouth, his hand dropping from around your jaw to join the other in your hair, guiding you down until your nose is pressing into the soft hair at his base. “Fuck, that’s it, Princess.” You swallow around him, gagging at the intrusion, and he pulls back hastily to repeat the action.

He fucks your face and you feel your eyes water, his pace punishing your gag reflex. Saliva drips from the corners of your lips, painting you a mess. He was using you so roughly, feeling emboldened after each stroke in your mouth, and you love it; moaning around him, thighs clenching. Your cunt was pulsing and throbbing with the need to be touched, and it took all your self control to not slide a hand between your legs for relief, knowing the man towering above you wouldn’t allow such disobedience.

Despite the harshness of his actions, you can see the soft smile pulling at the corner of his lips, secret fondness shining in his eyes as words of praise fell from his lips. “Such a good girl, taking me so well. So perfect for me, with her perfect fucking mouth…”

By the time he pulls you off his length you were wrecked; chest red and heaving, lips swollen and slick with spit, eyes shining and makeup smeared. Gasping for air, you didn’t even register that you were being picked up until you were pushed on the bed face first, a sharp grip at your hips positioning you onto your hands and knees. Pressing your face into the mattress, you mewl when you feel his hands slide up and down the backs of your thighs, hot breath fanning over your clothed cunt without ever receiving the relief of his touch.

“You are so needy, aren’t you, Princess? Just need to be fucked good by my cock, don’t you?” You whine at his words, your hips gently rocking to entice him to do something...do anything. Instead, a loud smack rings throughout the room, the suddenness of the assault on your now reddened cheek making you to yelp. “I asked you a question.”

“Yes, Saeran,”

Realizing the name you called out, you cringe in anticipation of punishment, only letting  the air in your lungs loose when it doesn’t come. Instead, an ironlike grip yanks the last scrap of fabric covering your core down your thighs, effectively binding your legs together. You can feel how wet you are, your slick coating the inside of your thighs, causing you to hiss at the cool air when you’re finally exposed.

“Then beg for it.”

His fingers began tracing slowly up and down your slit, featherlight and expertly ignoring your clit with each sweep. “Please, please give me your cock, I need it so bad, need you so bad,” you pant, not caring about anything but the feel of his fingers against your swollen folds. “I’ll be a good girl, I’ll do anything. Please, Saeran.”

As the last syllable leaves your mouth, he finally slides two fingers into your awaiting heat, curling them expertly to press at the tender spot inside you. His pace is punishing, not letting you ease into the sensation, before he leans forward to lick and suckle your needy clit into his  mouth.

“F-fuck,” you gasp, cries of pleasure incessant and becoming pitched. The coil in your stomach was so tight, so close to snapping, and you couldn’t help but catch your breath as his talented mouth and fingers brought you closer and closer to toppling over the edge.

You cry out when he stops abruptly, pouting until you feel his hands gripping the flesh at your hips.  He flips you onto your back, tearing your underwear from you and hurriedly sliding back down between your legs. “I want to see your face when you cum for me, Princess. Want to look in your eyes as you yell my name,”

His hot mouth tugs at your bundle of nerves again, fingers sliding home to the soft spot of your walls. “Cum for me,” he murmurs against your skin, another demand. One you were quick to comply with after a few more swipes of his wicked tongue. Shouting his name, white heat courses through you, your eyes screwing shut and thighs clamping firmly around his head. It takes you several moments to remember to breathe, and when you finally drop your legs to release his head he sits up, his fingers still fucking you through your orgasm until the feeling becomes too much.

Flinching, you attempt to push him away, body wiggling in attempt to separate him from you.

“Saeran, I can’t, it hurts.”

Instead of stopping like he normally would, your eyes flash open to see a devious smirk on his face, teeth biting into his bottom lip as he continued to press his fingers into your battered walls. You claw at him to stop, your hands reaching out to grab his wrists before he’s pinning your arms above your head, effectively halting all movement.

“You can do it, Princess, I know you can. It’ll feel even better the second time.” He presses his lips to yours, swallowing down your moans as he pulls his fingers from you. Confusion clouds your face, and it’s not until he pulls your legs up to bend them towards your ears that you realize that his throbbing length is pressing hotly into your core. “You’re going to come again, Princess, but this time it’s going to be on my cock.”

Suddenly his hips are slamming into you, groaning as he fully sheaths himself inside. The stretch burns slightly, but instead of giving you a moment to adjust he’s fucking you. Stars dance behind your eyes, and the heat in your gut is rapidly building at the onslaught of his hips, the powerful harshness of each assault  against your center. The angle is too much, too fast; the thickened head of his cock pounding that perfect spot inside you was sending you hurtling towards your peak, moans and broken cries spilling from your lips.

“Saeran, I’m, I can’t-”

“It’s okay, baby, let go.” he growls, a hand snaking down to swipe at your clit. You were thrown over the edge with unbridled force and a loud cry, heat snapping and bursting behind your eyes. You felt the gush of your orgasm flood your thighs, the force of it pushing him from your tender walls. You couldn’t help but mewl pathetically as he continues circling your abused nub.

“That was so fucking hot. Squirting all over my dick. You’re so good to me, taking me so well, like you were made for me.”

Fatigue sinks into your bones, and you want to nuzzle into the blankets until sleep takes you. Instead you feel him pulling you into his lap, arms circling his neck as he grips your hips and starts fucking upwards harshly. You whimper loudly, pressing your face into his neck as he seeks his high, the stutters and gulps of breath telling you he wasn’t far off. With each precise slam of his hips, his persona starts to slip more and more; the Saeran you have come to know and love over the last several months shining through. “I fucking love you, you’re so beautiful,” he moans, a hand leaving your waist to tilt your face towards his. Kissing you harshly, he suckles your bottom lip into his mouth, biting down lightly before releasing the abused flesh. “I’m so close baby, you’re doing so well.”

You watch as his eyes screw shut, the light sheen of sweat coating his face at the effort over his overworked muscles. Knowing he was close, you clench around him, coaxing him to his end. Turning to bite at the lobe of his ear, you beg breathily.  “Cum inside of me, Saeran. Please, I need you to cum. I need you.”

With a bite at your shoulder, you feel him tense beneath you, cursing as he finally releases. His thrusts slow as he milks himself inside your walls, hot spurts filling you. You collapse against him, chest heaving with exhaustion and Saeran wraps his arms around you, falling back until you’re both against the bed.

You feel your eyes getting heavy, about to succumb to slumber when he mutters huskily beside you.

“So…Happy Halloween?” You can hear the grin in his voice, your eyes snapping open to meet his. “I hope that was okay… was it too much?”

“I can’t believe you hid this from me!”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me your fantasy!” he chides back, a playful smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“I didn’t want to pressure you…I love you the way you are and the way our sex life is now. I didn’t want you think you had to change to keep me happy. I’m already so happy with you, Saeran.”

Warm hands cup your face as you finish speaking, and soon his nose was nuzzling yours, lips pressing softly against your own. “You’re so damn perfect.” He tugs you into his chest, arms smoothing errant patterns into your back.

You’re enveloped wholly, smiling to yourself at the rapid beating of his heart, enjoying the scent of sex mixing with his cologne. A small part of your brain reminds you that you should probably get up and clean yourself, the sticky mess of your combined release rapidly cooling against your skin. You take a few deep breaths, pressing your lips against his jaw before leaning back to get out of the bed and head into the adjoining bathroom.

“So…are there any more fantasies you have?” his voice rings out, and you laugh loudly, finishing within the bathroom and moving to find one of his shirts to pull over your head. “What? That one was actually pretty hot, I think I might like to live out all your fantasies.” He waggles his eyebrows at you, and you giggle at the sight, tossing his boxer briefs to him.

“Yeah, actually I do have another one. I’ve always had this fantasy of being double teamed by twins…” you let your voice trail away, sighing dreamily.

Suddenly you were pulled back into the bed, a growl your only warning before Saeran was back on top of you, pinning your arms to the bed once more.

“Do I need to punish you? Remind you who you belong to?”

“Who, Unknown?” you stifle a grin, a sharp bite at your throat letting you know you wouldn’t be getting off that easy.

“You are such a brat.”

[secondchancesfic]

S.C Chapter IX

Superhero!AU

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Pairings: Parental Analogical, Platonical Anxceit. Sibling Roman and Remus, Logicality. 

Tags/Warnings: Anxiety, panic attack, villain!Roman, villain!Remus, kidnapping implied, torture implied, violence implied, nightmares. Murder mention. (There’s fluff like... fluffy fluff and silliness) 

Words: 6786

NOTE: You might want to read chapter VIII to have a refresher of what is going on jaja.

-Remy…-

-Yes?-

-Remy…-

-Aha?-

-Remy… What…?-

That’s the only thing Gregory could say while also pointing, incredulously, at the The Duke. How come all of the sudden this sneaky villain was soundly sleeping in Remy’s couch? From the call they had, it sounded that his friend was in extreme danger, so the confusion in the hero’s face was justified.

-Ok. So…- Remy began. -I came back from work-

-You have job?- Gregory interrupted as if that was an important thing to question at that moment.

-Yeah, shut up. Don’t interrupt me- The hero kept silence. –I came here to change into my outfit and do my usual round up. Nothing planned, I was just gonna see some friends and hang out. And while I was doing that, I didn’t notice this creep staring at me-

-What? How?!-

-To be fair, it was really dark and he was in a corner. He looked so fucking creepy. And before I could even scream he tried to choke!- Remy fling his arms in the air, completely indignant.

–Fortunately, as you can see, I manage to make him fall asleep… The problem is… I’m not sure for how long-

Remy smiled awkwardly. Gregory took a deep breath and passed his hands through his bleached hair. He stared at The Duke and thought to himself “This is extremely dangerous…”. The Duke without his powers is strong enough to take down whoever he wants, who knows how dangerously stronger he is with his powers intact.

-Remy… I need to take him in-

-No! You promised!-

-Why not?! Didn’t you say he was a creep? HE TRIED TO CHOKE YOU!- Gregory yelled exasperated.

-Well, yes! But… It wasn’t him-him, you know?- Remy lack of explanation made the hero even more annoyed and confused.  

-What exactly do you mean?-

-Dee, his eyes are green. When he attacked me he had bright sky blue eyes. He wasn’t himself- Remy explained.

The hero was taken aback. Sky blue eyes are the only description for the mysterious villain. Between Remy’s previous description and Elliot’s, the only thing that seem to be the same are the eyes. Mind you, Elliot’s version said the guy wore a mask after the first meeting but still, the eyes shine through the eye holes.

Gregory explained the anecdote to Logan without saying where did he heard it, it brought a bit of suspicion from the older hero but he took it anyway. So far, no face description has been said, although The Duke might be what they need to get a clue of who this mystery villain is.

Also “He wasn’t him-him…”? That can mean a lot of things, but the easier one might be he was under the influence of this villain. Or even controlled.

-Either way, he has to come with me to the base.- Gregory said, getting an annoyed look from Remy.

-I won’t let your stupid grandpa crush brainwash another one of my friends- The villain said fiercely

-He doesn’t brainwash them!! And he isn’t a grandpa, why do you have to make it weird?!- Gregory snapped back

-NO! You are doing his bidding! It’s annoying! Where is the Deceit I knew?! The one who didn’t care for rules?! The one who did what he needed to be done!-

-Remy! This is above you and me! Whoever this villain is, he is dangerous! He is disappearing people! And now it seems he is disappearing villains too…- The hero looked at the disheveled villain.

-SO?! We don’t need this super morons to figure this out! Come on! We are smart enough! Don’t you remember all our grand robberies? Like the spotted diamond?- Remy smiled, trying to convince his friend.  

-THIS ISN’T ABOUT STEALING! THIS IS ABOUT MISSING PEOPLE! God! I remember why I decided to go with Logan now, you are just a selfish, egocentric prick!-

Gregory’s anger got the best of him, the look of shock and hurt in his friend’s face was something the hero never thought he’d seen. Remy looked down and went to the kitchen, for the first time in a while he was completely silent.  

The hero stayed in place and sighed, then looked at the unconscious villain to check him out. The Duke’s hair had a string of white hair and both that and his moustache were really messy. He had bags under his eyes, he seemed to be slightly malnourish, his costume was missing some parts and his sleeves where ripped. Around his neck there were a couple of marks, maybe of a type of collar of sorts. The guy might have been kept by the villain, he really did not look good…

Gregory then realized something: Remy wasn’t worried he almost got choked, he was worried because of how bad The Duke looked. He called him his friend after all.

The hero rubbed his eyes and forehead. Logan’s method can be helpful, however it could also be seen as forceful. Gregory was really grateful for what Logan did but maybe this villain might not want it. Something in the hero was telling him to go by the rules, rules he was repeated over and over again. It might have been his crush on the older hero that he didn’t realized how tired and bored he was of following him.

Maybe he was really doing Logan’s bidding, maybe he was doing it in a hopeless attempt of gaining the affection of a man who clearly didn’t see him the same way. Maybe he was getting a bit… well a very huge amount of annoyance of following dumb rules.

He shouldn’t totally break a couple of rules right now. Of course not mindlessly.

-Fine- Gregory said.

Remy turned to him slowly, rubbing his cheeks and eyes. –What?- He choked out.

The sound of his friend’s voice made him feel guilty. –I won’t take him to the base. He can stay with you-

Remy cleaned his face while running towards Gregory and pulling him into a tight hug. –I knew you’d understand…- The villain said, smearing his friend’s shoulder with old tears. Gregory returned the hug.

-…I’m sorry about what I said…- The hero said.

-Oh, it’s fine- Remy pulled away and batted his hand in the air.

–Just buy me a burger and we’ll be even- Remy smiled and patted the hero’s arm. Gregory snorted and saw his friend walked towards the Duke.

-So… What do you want to do?- Gregory asked while fixing his hair.

-I… Have no idea- Remy stated, getting a groan from Gregory. –In my defense, I didn’t know I was going to convince you-

-Wow. As always, you half assed your way around-

-Hey! Improvising is our specialty, ain’t it?- Remy smiled and pointed between the both

Gregory sighed. –Yeah…-

The hero sat down at the feet of the sofa and started to plan. Remy looked at him and smiled before standing up to prepare some tea.

Back in the old glory days, Gregory was the one who’d plan in full detail how a burglary would go. Of course, there was always something that would go wrong since Remy was spontaneously and probably not intentionally trying to get both of them in trouble. His love for the dramatics always drove him insane and had to plan a way to safely get of any building before the police would get there to arrest them.

They learn to be really good at sneaking away from the law’s hands, although they were definitely amazing at not leaving tracks. (Thanks, Remy) Even so, most officers and heroes like Logan couldn’t even get the hang of them. Only by pure luck, Logan manage to catch Gregory. Well… Not catch him per say, if Remy didn’t want to make a statement by burning the bank they were robbing BEFORE they could be out safely, Logan wouldn’t have saved him from the collapsing building.

Remy walked towards him once he had the tea prepared, Gregory took the cup and blow it a bit before taking a quick sip. He stared at it for a moment before putting it down. He looked back at The Duke and Remy.

-Alright. First step. We’re are going to wake him up- The hero said.

-Uh… Yeah, I don’t know how long it will take for that… I did throw a lot of my sleep powder to his face…- Remy said while rubbing his neck.

-I think I can cancel the effects- Gregory looked at his hand but before doing anything he thought again. –Hmm… I still need some of the cancelling bracelets Logan created-

-What? Why can’t you just do it right away?-

-Because I can’t be a nanny 24/7-

-Sure you can! You can stay here and nullify his powers, ask what you need to know and set him free!- Remy said sheepishly.

-Yeah, I’m not gonna do that- Gregory stood up. –Keep him asleep. Tomorrow I will come by and bring the bracelets, then…-

-Then?-

Gregory sighed. -I know you don’t want me to bring him to the base…-

-Dee…- Remy begin to feel annoyed again.

-But, we have his brother with us…- Gregory said looking guilty. –Remember?-

Remy was about to say something but stayed silent and thought to himself. They stayed silent for a moment.

-Can’t you… take him out?- Remy asked smiling in a hopeful manner.

-…No, I’m already practically betraying Logan’s trust by doing this. I’m not going to dig a bigger hole for myself…-

Remy groan. –Yeah, I wouldn’t like you to get brainwashed again…-

Gregory snorted. Both man smiled nervously, this was a dangerous thing. The Duke could wake up and attack them at any moment. That is… if he was still under any type of influence.

They had a limited time though, remaining asleep for more than 3 days could potentially kill anyone. It shouldn’t be that hard to get a pair of handcuffs and coming back to Remy’s apartment, the main problems could be not looking suspicious for Logan and not telling Virgil anything. For some reason the hero felt anxious but also excited.  

Sudden mumbles made both of them turn towards The Duke’s direction. He was turning around and sweating, something must be scaring him. A nightmare? The Duke began to gasp for air, as if something or someone was… choking him. His hands were on his throat desperately trying to get something off.

Gregory turned to Remy expecting him to do something but his friend stood there, frozen and confused while staring at the situation in front of him. He has never seen The Duke scared. The hero took a deep breath and exhale before walking towards the unconscious villain, he began to feel nervous due to what he was about to do.  

Gregory went and hold the Duke’s hands to stop him from scratching his throat, he then moved the villain so he could sit and rest his head on his legs.

The villain was shaking and sweating, his eyes were tightly shot and he was still gasping for air even though there was nothing impeding him to take deep breath. Gregory was feeling nervous, he wasn’t usually one to give comfort. His years with Virgil did gave him an idea of how can he exactly comfort someone having some kind of breakdown. This was similar, right?

He placed a hand on the villain’s head, it felt as if it hasn’t been washed in weeks… Maybe even more so… It was a bit gross but the hero didn’t mind it that much, his focus was on trying to calm this mess of a guy.  

-Hey… Uh- He begin speaking as if the villain was listening. –It’s ok… You are safe… Nothing is… hurting you?- Gregory was really not good at that, he look up at Remy who gave him both thumbs up.  

The Duke’s hands were opening and closing while shaking violently, almost spastic. He turned and kept mumbling, Gregory continue talking to him and petted his head trying to convince him he was alright.

The villain started to breathe evenly but was still shaking. The hero thought it was process and smiled to himself, suddenly the villain went to grab his hand. Gregory felt flustered by the action but let him do it, maybe it brought some sort of comfort to the villain. It wasn’t something so bad, although he didn’t expected for the villain to slowly rise and turn towards him to look at his face. The hero stayed there frozen, the sky blue color in the villain’s eyes remain faintly before fading and turning into green. The villain looked drowsy and confused.

-You… aren’t Roman…- Was the only thing he manage to say before going back to sleep.

Gregory and Remy looked terrified at each other. No one could come up from the stupor of Sleep’s Powder. Not even the fiercest of villains or strongest of heroes could suddenly just snap out of it. Remy walked towards them and took Gregory out of the way before blasting the villain with more powder.

-Holy shit- Gregory said, freaking out. –This dude is stronger than I thought…-

-Don’t leave me alone with him! He might still want to beat my ass for keeping him high on sleep powder!- Remy said while holding Gregory’s arm.

-You know I can’t stay here. Logan could get suspicious, he also could look around for me…- Gregory stated

-Wha- Does he keep a leash on you or what?!- Remy yelled

-No, he’s just kind overprotective. Like a dad, you know?-

Silence fell upon them, Gregory looked at his friend who stared disgusted.

-What?-

-Dude, you’re crushing on your dad?-

Gregory pushed Remy while groaning very annoyed, the villain started cackling and curling in himself. The young hero blushed and rolled his eyes, landing on the unconscious Duke. This could either end really well or really, really bad…  

NEXT DAY, AFTER NOON

Logan was excited to get out of his class, something he never expected to think. Don’t get the wrong idea, he loved teaching and helping his students, he would even stay behind if he thought it was necessary but right now he was hoping to meet Patton before he had to go to the base.

He had made sure his students understood the themes completely and gave them a well thought guide for the upcoming test. And as a special treat he didn’t left them homework, since he was in an extremely good mood. Everyone thought he might have forgotten but no one planned on asking Logan about it.  

Once the clock hit 2 pm he stood up, said good bye to his students and before any of them he was already in the corridor. Elliot saw how their teacher was practically and desperately leaving, it made them snort.

-He’s gonna get some dick- Kai said non chalantly.

-Dude, gross- Elliot said while giving a disgusted glance to their friend who just laughed as a response.

Logan walked out of the faculty premises, he had told Virgil and Gregory he would be spending some time with Patton that evening to which he got a thumbs up and a “FINALLY” from Virgil and nothing from Gregory, he was probably still in class.

With everything looking good enough for him, Logan felt more than prepared to go out with Patton. They’ve only been talking through phone due to their heavy and busy schedules, besides the really awkward wave they still feel about the whole dating thing. They decided to see each other that day and manage to make some time in between their usual working hour.

Excitement and nervousness took over Logan, feeling his heart beat faster and faster, as he approach the park they both chose to meet at. It was perfect since it was the middle point for each other.

Once he got there, the teacher walked through a running path. He passed a couple people there who were doing exercise or just hanging out. He then went to a bench and sat down, fidgeting and looking directly in the ground.

It was a really pretty and well maintain place, to his back there were so many tall trees. It was like a small forest, full of dead leaves at the bottom and bright green ones at the very top. In front of him there was the running path and an open space full of grass, it looked like a hill. People were running around it, some were even falling and rolling. The giggles and the sound of the branches been moved by the gentle breeze gave him a bit of piece after pondering the whole walk why he felt so anxious: “was it because he hasn’t seen the bubbly man or because of the social interaction he had to make to be around him?”

-Oh shoot… where could he be…?- A recognizable voice came from behind and kind of startled him. Logan turned around and to his surprise a messy Patton was walking out of some bushes. He was wearing a pair of loose dark pants and a long sleeve shirt, both were stained with leaves and mud. Logan also notice he was wearing a pair of boots, the type explorers would wear for long walks.

-Um… Hello?- Logan said incredulous, confuse to see Patton just popping out of seemingly nowhere and looking a bit disheveled. Not like he looked bad, though… “What?” Logan pushed that thought back in the mental trashcan.

Patton look up quickly and blushed as he saw Logan, he tried to go towards him but slipped and fell to the leafy ground. Logan walked towards the man, wondering what he was doing. The teacher kneel down and let his hand out so the bubbly man could take it.

-Thanks…- Patton said embarrassed.

Logan smiled kindly. –No problem… If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly where you doing over there Patton?-

Patton shook his head and chuckled. –Nothing, it’s dumb…-

-Hmm… Well, you seemed to be dress properly for some… Search?- Logan question and waited for an answer, what he got was a shock glance from Patton and a big smile.

-Wow, you are very clever- The vet chuckled.

-I think the word you are looking for is observant-

-Why? Have you served any ants around here?-

Logan looked at Patton confused before he made the connection, then rubbed his face as the other man giggle at his horrible joke.

-Now, to give you a gay answer- Patton looked at Logan for a reaction, he notice the teacher was containing a snort. –I was…Um… I was kind of looking for frogs-

That spiked some interest in Logan. –Frogs?-

-Yeah… last night was really humid and it did rained a bit. This parts retain most of its moisture and I’ve heard some of them croak. I just can’t seem to find anything- The vet scratch the back of his head confused while looking around.

Logan thought for a moment, this was a peculiar interest but intriguing and entertaining none the less. He didn’t expect Patton to be the venturing kind. –Well, certain types of frogs will get close to sources of water, maybe if we find puddles there could be one-

The vet’s eyes flicker for a moment, excitement showing in his face.

-Will you help me find them?!- He shouted then paused and calmed before speaking again. –I-I know this might be a tad weird and not really… Up to your standard but I think it could be fun?-

Patton was waiting for a rejection, he knew some of his actions and mannerisms were not really usual for someone as old as him, but what was the point of being an adult if he couldn’t do what he wanted? Especially having fun! But Logan was too serious, way too proper, he came to the first date with a tie for goodness sake… Maybe they should go somewhere else…

-I would love to help you- Logan said, determination shining through.

It’s been a while since Logan did any kind of exploration of this kind, the only exploration he did was looking around the city for any suspicious activity. That was his job but it certainly was becoming a rather boring routine. This is not only helping him relax and be out of his office, it’s also helping him be closer to Patton.

-Well let’s go then! Oh… Wait… Won’t you get dirty?- The vet pointed out to Logan’s outfit; he was wearing black pants, a pair of black shoes and a navy blue dress shirt. Logan looked at himself and was thinking on turning the whole thing off just because he wasn’t dressed properly but… He was never as adventurous like other people. Sure, he would fight villains but his outfit was made for that, he was getting even more out of his comfort zone by getting dirty with this type of clothes.

“Screw it”

-It’s quite alright, Patton. This can be wash later, let’s go search for amphibians!- He proclaim in an attempt to sound valiant. This got a chuckle and a bright smile from Patton who walked through the messy terrain effortlessly, Logan made sure to step on solid ground but everything felt slippery.

The vet notices Logan having some troubles to walk around, he gets his arm out so the teacher could steady himself. Logan took it and thanked Patton, trying to ignore the clear blush he was feeling spreading around his cheeks. Both man started to walk deeper into that mini forest, looking around to several plants and insects.

Logan was fascinated and relax, even though the fauna and flora were common in the area, he admire nature in all its forms. He didn’t realize how a mantis landed in his shoulder until it was just walking around, this made Patton jump in surprise. Logan chuckled and hold it out in a tree with care. Looking how he was gentle to tiny creatures made the vet smile fondly, and might also made him fall a bit more over heels for the teacher.

They continue to look for puddles and looked at leaves, they confused a couple of those for frogs. It even made Logan fell when he confused a bunch of leaves for an animal he tried to avoid, earning a concern look from Patton and quickly acting to help him but to the vet’s surprise Logan laughed at the silliness of the whole situation. It was the most symphonic sound he has ever heard and wanted to listen to it forever.

He helped the teacher to stand up while chuckling nervously, Patton asked and checked Logan to make sure he was alright before the teacher reassured him. He was blushing deeply through the embarrassing situation, at least Patton’s concern helped him feel less dumb.

Both man finally arrived at what seemed to be a natural pond, pretty odd to the man-made forest. Patton gasped delighted by the sighted and tried to run over the pond, not noticing there was uneven ground and small hill. Logan tried to hold him back but Patton’s running start pulled the teacher with him and both man fall over. They ended at the feet of the pond unharmed yet really filthy. A fit of nervous giggles started from the vet. How humiliating.

-Oh gosh… I guess I got overexcited- He blurted out while giggling while fixing his glasses. Logan didn’t respond. The vet felt something under him and quickly realize he was above a really embarrassed and blushed teacher.

Patton himself began to blush a really deep red, and tried to move away as quickly as possible, but stumble clumsily. Logan himself was frozen in the spot not really knowing what to do or say. He snapped out when he heard Patton rambling apology over apology.

-I’M SO, SO, SO SORRY! I didn’t meant to do that! Oh my gosh.- The vet could only hide his face, he really just wanted to drop dead at the moment. His immaturity was always seen as annoyance, of course it would be annoying he should be acting like an adult! Logan will certainly think the same way after this stupid mistake. He could have hurt him! How irresponsible.

There was no anger, there was no reprimand. He only felt something taking his hand away from his embarrassed face. Logan was smiling.

-You really should be more careful, Patton- the teacher said between chuckles.

The way Logan said his name, so kindly and with no ounce of anger nor annoyance, made him calm down a bit. Patton looked at Logan’s eyes and felt like melting, the teacher was genuinely enjoying that weird meeting.

God, Patton was falling too much for him. The realization made him feel guilty and embarrassed since they barely know each other. They talked through their phones and exchange a couple of info about them but it’s different when you have the person in front of you, and not only that but getting that same person below you for a stupid mistake.

-I’m really sorry. Are you ok? Did I hurt you?- The bubbly man tried to amend whatever harm he could have done.

-I’m alright, Patton. Don’t worry- Logan said still chuckling, this sure was a strange way to know someone better. Strange but really fun. He doesn’t recall the last time he had fun with someone like this, or act silly in any way. He would act silly from time to time with his son but it was different with someone who wasn’t as close. This is just… The simple act of getting out of the metaphorical box and do something he wouldn’t usually do is…nice.

-Aren’t you mad?- The vet asked while looking at how muddy Logan had become

- Quite the contrary, I think I’m more amused than when we started- Logan said smiling gently while trying to clean his shirt.

Patton smiled and was about to help him clean himself when a croak made them froze in place. The croaking continued and both man looked at the pond and saw a couple of frogs, they were in different sizes and were moving around rocks and leaves. The vet gasp and his eyes sparkled with joy, for a split second Logan thought he saw his eyes turn another color. It was probably the messy glasses Patton was wearing. The teacher smiled by the excitement of the bubbly man and slowly stood up, giving a hand to help him stand up.

They slowly and as quiet as possible approach the pond, once they were close enough they crouch and stared at how the amphibians were swimming and climbing in the muddy rocks and leaves. Patton was delighted and looked peaceful, Logan looked at him and smiled to himself.

 -Do you usually do this?- Logan asked while walking back to the park’s normal path with Patton by his side looking at the sky that was covered by the branches of the trees.

-What?- The vet question, he didn’t quite catch what he said.

-Search for frogs?-

Patton chuckled. –I search for more than just frogs. Animals are just so cute!-

-Can be dangerous as well- Logan stated

-Yeah, I know. But sometimes animals need help.-

Logan hummed as an agreement. They stayed quite for a bit before Patton spoke up.

-Did you know there are poisonous frogs? They showcase really bright colors as a way to warn other animals. With one touch, boom! You’re dead!- Patton said while smiling, happy to share information of his job and interests. Although quickly realize how macabre it sounded.

-Oh! I think I’ve seen those in a documentary. Really impressive creatures- Logan stated, he didn’t felt awkward or nervous. Conversing of this type of scientific topics made him feel a bit more in control on the situation since he was a living encyclopedia of knowledge. He didn’t know if he could keep up with the animal knowledge though.

-Right?!- The vet shouted. –They are so tiny and adorable yet they could just…- Patton stopped by what he was going to say, he then just went quiet. Logan looked at him waiting for the rest of the sentence.

Patton chuckled. –Sorry-

-Why are you apologizing?- The teacher sounded genuinely confused

-I just…- The vet hummed. -Sometimes I get so passionate, I guess… I really love animals but I know it can be annoying…- Patton said really flustered, as if his job and interest should be something to be ashamed off.

Logan stop in the path, making the other man pause in his tracks. He looked at the teacher who had a puzzling look, something was off to him.

-Logan?-

-Sorry… It’s just…- He paused for a moment before speaking up.

-You aren’t annoying at all-

The vet looked bewildered at him, as if those words were a sound he couldn’t recognize. It was odd to say the least. Patton felt his chest swelling, as if those words were what he always needed to hear.

-Just because you enjoy something, something you are passionate about… You shouldn’t feel ashamed. You should embraced it, no matter what.-

Rejection is something this two are familiar with. Logan has always been the outcast everywhere he went, even in the association the heroes don’t look at him as an equal but as a useless scientist. He had to make himself tough to not let the harsh words and looks hurt him. The idea of Patton being rejected or hurt the same way made his blood boil… Metaphorically. Logan couldn’t fathom the idea of such a sweet and kind man being mistreated in such a horrible way and just because he was passionate in rescuing or studying animals.

-Even if people…- Patton spoke –Just… Hates you for it?-

-Especially when they hate you for it- Logan continue, looking serious towards the other man. –You shouldn’t be punish just for being you…-

The teacher started to blush. –And… well… From all people… You should feel really proud of yourself, Patton. Being knowledgeable in a complex career to save very vulnerable creatures… It’s, on its own, a very noble and heroic decision- He looked away from Patton and tried to dissimulate his embarrassment.

-Heroic!?- Patton shouted and laughed, Logan’s blush deepened. –Oh! I’m anything but that! I’m just a clumsy moron!-

The harsh diminishing words made Logan look back at Patton, the vet was blushing and scratching his neck while looking at the ground with a shock expression. He seem to be getting anxious.

-Patton, I really mean what I said- Logan said at him, he was looking seriously at the vet and a bit of concern could be seen in his eyes.

Patton smile flickered, kind word are so odd to hear specially the way Logan said them so kindly and truthfully. He didn’t know exactly what to say at all, his mind was going blank. In an attempt to deflect any kind of conversation about him, he began to ramble.

-Come on, Lo… Sure, I help some cute critters and such, but real heroes are the ones who save the people in the city! Especially from the several villains who suddenly appeared- Patton continue, his tone began to rise. –Like, uh… Oh, I forgot his name… Ah, Syllogism!!-

Logan jolted at the mention of his hero name, trying to remain compose he made himself look way more serious than he should. –Wh-What about him?- He asked.

-Well, I think he’s truly the best hero there is! His creations are really impressive and I bet he could put them into service for the whole place to see.-

Logan felt the blush deepening, feeling really nervous and awkward although it would be lie if he said he didn’t felt proud of his technological achievements.

-Also! He manage to stop the Royal Pain duo! I mean, getting rid of The Prince? That was a relief!- Patton said it with a nervous smile.

Logan froze, instead of hiding a proud smile he tried to hide the horrifying chill he suddenly felt. Do people think he… killed The Prince? He didn’t meant to throw him from that building… The Prince isn’t dead though, he’s recovering at the base. Even if he had… murdered him, why would Patton be so… happy about it?

-I…Disagree, what Syllogism did… it was a horrible thing to do- Logan remarked.

Patton hummed and looked at Logan a bit more serious.

–Why do you think that?-  

-Killing someone doesn’t stop anything. Whether a villain or a hero does it, it’s still wrong- The teacher said it in a factual manner.  

-Hmm…- The vet stayed quiet. –Killing can be wrong, but if it for a greater good then some sacrifices must be done- He stated, getting a wince from Logan then he tried to backtrack. –Ok, ok. I know it sounds bad, but hear me out. Let’s take The Prince and The duke as an example… They’ve been destroying and hurting people all around the place, not only in this city. They exploded buildings, streets and hurt countless innocents. There was no sign they would stop, especially with The Duke. If someone got… uh… rid of them, wouldn’t that stop the harm they do?-

Silence fell on the both, Logan placed a hand on his chin and thought for a moment, he was rather confused by this type of mentality. Patton expressed a concerning thought before at their first date, “forcing others to be good so they stop hurting others” now it’s “if they won’t stop harming, then they don’t deserve to live”. He could understand that train of thought though, but it still was horrifying.

–They are well known thieves and have no record of actually killing anyone. I don’t think that gives them a death sentence. And even if they did, it’s still not in the hero’s jurisdiction to make a judgment nor execution-

-You didn’t answered the question- Patton said seriously. –Would the harm they do, stop?-

Logan sighed and looked down. –Yes, it would. But again, it’s not the hero’s job to do an execution -

The vet hummed. They began to walk again, staying silent for a moment.  

-So…- Patton started again. –You think death is not a good punishment?-

-Of course not-

-What do you think it should be?-

-I believe some of them just need some guidance, so maybe… Get them help.-

-Oh frogwash!- Patton shouted. He placed a hand on his mouth before giggling.

–Oops… I mean… Do you think all villains can be… easily redeemed?-

Logan thought for a moment. –Well… Not everyone, I guess… If anyone still chooses the path of villainy the other option is to place them in jail. As I said, death is not a well thought option. Where’s the change? What about forgiveness?-

-Hmm… This people don’t deserve any kindness nor forgiveness…- Crimson was burning buildings, The Duke and The Prince were scaring and robbing people, Scarlet Mist made people blind for months, Meltdown almost destroyed the city…-

Patton paused for a moment.

–If heroes were as bold as Syllogism, there wouldn’t be as many villains showing up here and there. They have to keep taking the villains out like a weed-

Logan looked at Patton, he notice the vet looked rather shaken but he could also identify anger in his eyes.

–That statement doesn’t have a ground to stand on. If you…-

He got interrupted by Patton repressing a chuckle. Logan, confused, thought about what he said, after a couple seconds he made the connection: Weeds are on the ground. He sighed and Patton got in his giggle fit, at least Logan lighten up the mood.

-Sorry… That was good one, teach’- Patton said smiling lightly.

-It’s alright, Patton- Logan said as he gave a small smile at the other man. –As I was saying…That statement can’t hold itself. A weed might be taken out from the root, but there’s always going to be more weeds. Fighting violence with violence doesn’t stop villains.-

-What do you think it does…?- Patton raised his eyebrow and looked genuinely curious to what the answer might be.

-Comprehension and care. Like I said, maybe not all of them will respond to it. At end of the day, they have free will to decide whether or not to take the help but there is always someone who will, and that can make a bigger change than just mindlessly disposing of them-

The vet stared at Logan for a moment, not angrily, it was more like… concern…? Patton then lower his eyes, and looked at the ground and stopped in his tracks, which made the other man to stop. Logan waited patiently to see what kind of response he would get. The teacher began to worry due to how silent the other man was being.

-If…- Patton paused before continuing. –…If your son was…murdered and you knew who did it, wouldn’t you want revenge?-

That was not what Logan expected to hear. The teacher would do anything for Virgil, he would risk his own life to save him. But… Could Logan hurt someone else if they did anything like that to his son? He doesn’t think he could… He doesn’t believe in eye for an eye, but… Virgil is his world. Would he betray his son if he didn’t took revenge?

Why would Patton ask that?

Patton chuckled.

-Sorry… I got serious all of the sudden- His smiled seemed rather forceful. –You don’t have to answer. It’s really not important-

Logan looked at Patton, he wondered if… if that’s the reason he doesn’t have his own child… He wouldn’t ask right there and then of course, he doesn’t feel he has the right to know. Patton probably wouldn’t want to talk about it anyway. The vet notice Logan looking at him with concern in his eyes.

-Uff!- Patton shook himself –That was a bit too intense for my liking- He chuckled nervously

-Yes, it was- Logan reaffirmed, not knowing what else to do or say.

They remained in silence, it quickly became awkward but there was nothing to talk about. They continue walking, finally getting to the running path. Patton started giggling at the sight of Logan. Deep within the trees it was a bit darker, so they didn’t fully see the mess they both were. At least the imaginary thick wall of awkwardness had been shattered by something as wonderful as Patton’s giggles.

The teacher looked down on himself and smiled. He was covered in dried mud and a couple of leaves were stick in his clothes and hair. Patton didn’t look any better, his boots were indistinguishable from the ground and one of his sides was fully covered in mud. They laugh at the silly image, 2 grown man playing with mud and branches. How immature yet fun.  This was, without a doubt, a very strange yet wonderful date….

Date? Was that a date? Logan begin to think to himself. He fixed his hair and embarrassed, debated in his head whether or not it was. Then the thought of asking Patton for reassurance seemed reasonable but he was too shy beside he could potentially hurt the vet’s feelings. How exactly? He doesn’t know but he still could. Yet, as if the other man had read his mind.

-Uh… So… Um… Do you…- Patton began mumbling. –Was this… a date?- He winced, as if he was waiting for negative reaction from Logan.

Logan just blushed while fixing his shirt. He coughed, trying to hide his embarrassment. –I… Frankly, I’m not sure… But… I think it was?-

The situation was so dumb, it just made them smiled. Sure, the conversation from before became a bit too serious but it wasn’t a bad date for any of them at all. Logan and Patton don’t seem to agree on many things, but they still remain respectful at the end.

Logan’s goal was to learn more about the other man, and he got that and more. Maybe their relationship could blossom into something more, although, between friends or lovers, he didn’t mind which type would evolve. He was happy with any of those as long as Patton was in his life.

Meanwhile, Logan didn’t realize how Patton was completely head over heels for him already, and was already prepared to just jump into the romance wagon, yet he restrain himself so he didn’t scared the teacher off.  

They walked the path all the way to the entrance of the park and parted their ways, they had to go back to their works after all. The day was sunny, warm but tolerable. A nice breeze came by to bring refreshing air, but also to bring a couple of dark and stormy clouds.

Prologue/ CH 1/ CH 2 / CH 3 / CH 4 / CH 5 / CH 6 / CH 7 / CH 8 / CH 9 / CH 10

I’m sorry again! I’m trying to be more productive this summer, now that I have stopped having classes. Hope you enjoy this chapter! I sure did!

TAG LIST:

@thatweriddoodlingllama @kaimariethebi @potato–justpotato @enderperson43

[ravenbrenna09]

Unattainable - Chapter One - A Robbe/Sander Fic

LET’S TRY THIS AGAIN (thanks for deleting it Tumblr).

Summary: Sander is Instagram Famous and Robbe is his biggest fan. Someone like Sander would never notice someone like him… right?

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22135918/chapters/52836538

...

I would like to thank @milanhendrickx because this AU has completely taken over my life from the moment that I first saw her gifset. Originally, this wasn't supposed to be as long it was. It was only intended to be a one-shot, but there was just too much that I wanted to include. So, as of right now, there are only two chapters that deal with the events shown in milanhendrickx's original gifset, but I could easily expand to include more.

Like, this was soooooooo much fun to write. I enjoyed it. 

There are some texts in this chapter. The formatting might be a little easier on AO3, but I’m going to make the texts Robbe sends to be bold and the messages that he receives to be italicized. I hope this makes it a little bit easier with the texting sections. 

...

The party drummed around him, music floating through the speakers that were on either side of the television.

It was a small gathering, a get-together of sorts to celebrate Senne and Zoë’s engagement in their brand-new apartment. The bride-to-be was on the other side of the room, the bright shiny ring on her finger as she let Amber take a look at it. Senne was talking with Milan and some of his friends from school, leaning against the wall with a beer in his grasp.

The girls teased Zoë endlessly, probably because of Zoë’s retelling of the proposal where she had asked Senne to marry her a week before he had meticulously planned to propose (Robbe and Milan had spent so much time trying to help him plan it perfectly that they had gaped, having all been out together; Robbe managed to get his phone out to record the actual proposal when Senne surprised her by getting down on one knee in the middle of the market), and the blonde’s cheeks were dusted pink in response to her friends’ teasing. 

Robbe glanced the room for his friends, who were over on the edge of the room, trying to fish out the details of Jens’ new boyfriend, who had been sneaking in and out of their four-bedroom apartment for weeks. Robbe wasn’t a part of it because he had run into Lucas in the kitchen with Noor as they made breakfast. The boy hadn’t said anything, simply grabbing a bottle of water and returning to Jens’ room (which was then followed by a yelp from Jens and much laughing). Later that evening, the black-haired man had sworn Robbe and Noor to secrecy. 

(Noor was the one who had slipped up on Jens having a boyfriend and Jens had mock-scolded her at three in the morning one night.)

Robbe glanced at his phone, upset that he hadn’t heard from his mom quite yet. He ran a hand through his hair, reminding himself that it was normal for the first couple of days in the institution as doctors did evaluations and checked things over. His mother had been going down again, not taking her medications daily and her meds weren’t working like they were supposed to. When Robbe was in high school, she had checked herself into an institution, being there for months before she had been able to come home. Now, she had checked herself back in.

His phone buzzed and he barely registered the fact that it had been an Instagram notification before someone wrapped their arms around his shoulders. 

“Hey,” it was Zoë, pressing a kiss against his cheek. She pulled back to stare at him, reaching up to wipe away the deep red lip imprint that she left in her wake. Robbe glanced at her, spotting the concerned look on her face. Ever since Robbe had gone to live with her and Milan, the three of them had remained close. Zoë and Milan had been there for him when he needed it the most and they hadn’t let him go. “Why are you looking so glum for?” she questioned, a smile growing on her lips. “It’s a celebration, Robbe.” 

“I’m sorry,” Robbe replied, straightening up on the arm of the couch. “I’m just worried about my mom.” 

Zoë gave him a comforting smile, squeezing his shoulders as she pulled back. “I know, but I promise that she’s in the best place in the world. Now, come on,” she spoke, extending her hands. 

“Come on what?” Robbe questioned, taking them. 

The blonde grinned, pulling him off the couch and towards the middle of the room. The furniture had been pushed aside to have a makeshift dance floor which is where his friends were all gathered. Robbe rolled his eyes as he realized Zoë’s intentions, wrapping his arms around the woman that he had always considered to be the closest thing that he would ever have to a sister and dancing with her. Once Robbe spun her, Zoë let out a laugh and landed against his chest. 

“Can I ask you something?” she questioned, stepping back to glance up at him, still swaying. 

Robbe nodded his head, furrowing his eyebrows. “Of course you can. I’ve learned my lesson. Never say no to the bride.” 

Zoë laughed, a nervous look crossing her face as she bit down on her bottom lip. Watching her getting so nervous instantly made Robbe nervous as well. Then, after a bit, Zoë gripped onto his shoulder as she let out a laugh, lighter and showing her nerves before she managed to form the words together. 

“Would it be okay if you walked me down the aisle?” Zoë questioned, her voice rushed and breathless. Robbe’s eyes widened as she continued, “With Milan, of course, I think he would be quite offended if I asked you and not him, but both of you are like family and since my dad is out of the picture and you’re practically like my little brother-”

“Zoë,” Robbe cut her off. She blinked up at him, the nervous look crossed back over her face. “Of course, I would love to walk you down the aisle.” 

Zoë grinned, throwing her arms around him and pressing another kiss to his cheek. She shrieked out a sorry and tried to wipe away the red lipstick once again before she moved back towards the girls that were demanding the bride-to-be’s attention. Robbe laughed, moving back to the couch now that the only reason he was off the couch had been dragged away. As he flopped down on the couch, pulling his phone from pocket and glancing down at the Instagram notification.

earthlingoddity has started a live broadcast

Glancing around the room, Robbe slid open the notification and kicking his volume down to mute. Within minutes, the broadcast was up, showing ‘earthlingoddity’ in a store, lightly banging his head as he sang a song or mumbled a song. Judging from the angle, someone else was holding the camera and possibly talking to the chat. Robbe couldn’t tell, but he could tell that a fond smile had already begun to form on his face as he watched the man move through the store, grabbing things and dumping them in the shopping cart as he talked, and sung, to the camera and whoever was behind it. 

The brunet wasn’t for sure how it had started, this intense fascination for a person that he had ever seen in person before. While scrolling through Instagram one day, Robbe had come across one of the numerous drawings that he had posted on his profile and had liked it. Then, upon seeing three or four more, he ended up on his profile and following him before proceeding to scroll through every single picture that he had ever posted. He didn’t leave a like on all of his posts (though, Robbe knew that he wanted to).

But, if Robbe hadn’t been aware that he liked guys and only guys, he was certain that earthlingoddity, or Sander, would’ve been the final nail in the metaphorical coffin. 

The man was beautiful, almost angelic, like the type of person that you wouldn’t have suspected could’ve ever possibly existed on Earth. His hair had been bleached to a bright white and bright green eyes. Somehow, in (almost) every photo that featured himself, he was wearing the same black leather jacket and his live video now was no exception. He smiled brightly at the camera as he talked and Robbe had been certain that his stomach was performing somersaults. 

Yeah, he definitely had a problem, Robbe decided as he typed “you’re amazing”. His response was quickly followed by the fast-moving chat and Robbe locked his phone as he heard heels approaching him. 

“Robbe,” someone spoke, a light begging tone in her voice. 

He glanced up to find Noor walking towards him. His roommate’s girlfriend was dressed in a black long sleeve shirt with a plunging neckline coupled with a dark red skirt. She had her black hair pushed behind her ears, exposing her black stud earrings, and her bangs were slightly pushed to the side. Robbe noticed that she wasn’t wearing a septum ring tonight which could only mean one thing. 

“Noor,” he spoke, already sitting up and already suspecting that she was going to ask. “Again?” 

On their first ‘date’ following a mad dash from a party all those years ago, Noor had taken Robbe to a secret spray-painting club that operated out of a warehouse that someone owned. Some of the members were from her school and a handful were other spray-painters around Antwerp. Robbe and Noor had been a fresh couple back then, having literally met in a bathroom hours before. It had been before Nick and the harsh words that Robbe had thrown in Nick’s face in fear of what it all meant. After Robbe was out and had apologized to her, the two of them became friends. Once Moyo and Noor started officially dating, it became apparent that she wouldn’t be leaving Robbe’s life anytime soon. 

As a result, she tended to bring Robbe with her to the underground painting ring when Moyo couldn’t go with her. 

“Please,” Noor spoke, folding her hands in front of him. She glanced at Moyo, who was still trying to get Jens’ to fess up with Aaron and now Amber had joined in the conversation. “Our anniversary is tomorrow and we’re going out with his parents after I get out of work. I won’t be able to go for a week so I have to make sure it’s all done tonight. I’m almost done, I promise that it won’t take that long. Plus, Moyo is meeting with his mom and his mom’s doctor in the morning and it’s supposed to be a surprise.” 

Robbe looked at her. “Why me?”

“Because they know you,” Noor supplied, putting her hands on her hips. “And, besides, if I don’t show up with either one of you, I have to fight off some newbie with spray-paint who wants to hit on me.” She folded her hands in front of her again. “Please?”

Robbe let out a sigh and Noor grinned because she knew that she already won. 

… 

Upon arriving outside the old garage, Noor had practically forced the mask over his face before he even had the chance to ask for one. Once she had made sure that her own was secure, she stepped over to him, making sure the straps were tucked behind his ears and locked in place. The knock was simple and deliberate. After so many trips coming with her over the years, he had the knock memorized but he never came here of his own accord. 

Just like any other night, the garage was full of people. Robbe recognized the blue eyes of the man that had let them into the building. The man had made a joke about Noor ditching her boyfriend to which she rolled her eyes and pretended to not be offended before grabbing Robbe by the wrist and dragging him further into the large warehouse. There were a handful of vehicles along with the vast empty space, a handful of people here and there, and there was at least one person that had a camera, taking pictures of everything around them. 

Noor shifted the bag that she had been carrying up further on her shoulder. 

One artist that they passed had chosen the canvas to be one of the poles that held up the building. The person was switching from a can of spray paint to a paintbrush and palette that was balancing dangerously on his knee. Another had started an abstract painting on the floor, his space coordinated off by a bunch of backpacks that had to have been from the other painters. The entire life and feel of the warehouse had always made him smile, the support and the secrets brimming in the building. 

“Come,” Noor spoke, grabbing his arm and directing him further into the building, all the way to the back wall. There was a section of the wall that had already been spray-painted over. The section was a majority of a dark blue with a beautiful blend of blues and purples. There was only a section of the wall that had small white bursts against the blend. As he stared, Robbe could make out a handful of constellations that he couldn’t remember the name of. 

“Wow,” he mumbled.

“Do you like it?” she questioned, sounding insecure. 

“Of course I like it, it’s beautiful,” Robbe informed her. Even with the mask obscuring half of Noor’s face, he could tell that his friend was grinning from ear-to-ear. But, he couldn’t help but feel like there was more to the story. “Why are you so eager to finish this tonight?” he asked, curious. 

“Oh,” Noor spoke, her cheeks flushing. “Well, for our first date, Moyo and I had spent the night looking up at the stars. His mother used to always show him the constellations. We sat there forever just looking up at the stars and he was telling me the stories of them. I’m going to show him, but I know it’s not going to stay here on this wall forever so I was going to have a friend take a picture and print it out so we could keep it.”

Robbe smiled. 

“Too cheesy?” she questioned. 

“No,” Robbe replied, shaking his head. “I think it would be a perfect gift for Moyo.” 

Noor smiled.

The artist had a reference picture on her phone which she was meticulously following. In his initial visit to the warehouse, the two of them had sprayed a garage truck together. But, Robbe knew that he was here as moral support. As such, he sat on the floor, not far from her with his legs crossed beneath him and her bag of spray paint in front of him. Whenever her can of white paint ran out, he fetched her another from her bag. She must’ve known that she would need to use a lot because there were at least ten cans of white spray paint. 

Noor was meticulous, going a little at a time. Robbe knew that she was focused on the task at hand so while she was spray painting, Robbe was playing on his phone. There was a text from Moyo asking about any information about Jens’ boyfriend which Robbe ignored and informed him that they had made it to the warehouse safely. Jens sent him to let him know that he (and Moyo) had all arrived back at the apartment and that they were headed to bed. Once he had finished the text, his thumb instantly opened Instagram with the hopes that the live broadcast was still going on. 

To his disappointment, it wasn’t.  

So, he ended up playing a game. 

“Robbe,” Noor whined, tearing his attention away from his game. Robbe glanced up to his friend, who was standing on the top of the ladder that she had pulled over some time ago. She had reached the top of the mural now, the stars covered the entire mural except for one section in the upper hand corner. The ladder couldn’t go any further over, stuck by a pole. “How does it look?” 

Robbe gave her a look. “It looks beautiful, just like it did when you started nearly three hours ago.” 

“Three hours?!” she questioned, glancing at her phone. There’s a surprised look on her face as she filtered through what she presumed to be messages. “I didn’t realize it would take this long.”

“Noor,” Robbe spoke. “It’s fine. You just might have to deal with an angry boyfriend when you climb into bed in the middle of the night.” Noor chuckled, starting to climb off the ladder to move it. Robbe’s phone buzzed in his hand and he glanced down. It was an Instagram notification, but his tired brain doesn’t register it at first let alone read it. “How much do you have left to do?” he questioned, curious. 

“Just one more thing, I promise,” Noor admitted, locking the ladder in place. “And, this one won’t take three hours.” 

Robbe let out a laugh, shaking his head, as his phone vibrated against his palm. However, this time, it’s a text message from Jens, which he quickly opened, wondering why Jens was awake now. 

I just checked your room and you’re still not home.

Why are you still not home?

Noor has been pretty focused.

She’s finishing up now.

Why are you still awake?

Robbe, I know that I don’t need to tell you how sex works.

Oh, Lucas is there?

Tell him hi!

He says hello and that he’ll see you in the morning. 

When are you going to be home?

Thirty minutes to an hour?

Why?

So I don’t think someone’s breaking in?

Why would a burglar have a key?

We’re going to bed. 

Goodnight. 

Be quiet when you two come in.

We’ll be quiet.

I hope you didn’t wake up Moyo.

We didn’t. 

Unlike someone (*cough* Moyo *cough*), we can be quiet. 

Robbe let out a chuckle, glancing up when Noor’s boot tapped against his foot. She had pushed the ladder off to the side, exposing the entirety of the work. Her final touch had been a shooting star which was placed in the dead-center of the mural. He grinned at it. 

“Who’s still awake this late?” she questioned, placing the white cap back on the can. Robbe handed her the phone to show her the texts which she read through with a grin on her face. Robbe took the spray paint and placed it back in her bag with the other cans. Most of them were empty but Noor recycled them. Noor let out a laugh, her eyes scanning over the texts. 

“Noor?” 

The deep voice stirred both of their attention. Robbe glanced up, spotting the man standing behind him with a black hood over his head, obscuring his face in shadows. The man even had a black mask that covered his mouth, almost draping him completely in darkness and shadows. The only thing that stood out was his eyes but even those were partially obscured in the shadows. 

But, Noor seemed to recognize him, stepping forward and wrapping him in a hug. “Hey, how are you?” The man moved to respond, but Robbe’s phone vibrated in Noor’s hand, managed to get the attention of both of them. She glanced down, reading the screen, before handing the phone out to him.

Robbe’s breath knocked out of his throat at the sight of Mama on the screen. “I’ll be right back,” Robbe promised Noor, taking the phone and stepping away. He vaguely registered that he paused to take his mask off as he moved to a section of the warehouse that hadn’t been touched tonight. “Hi Mama,” he spoke, right before a yawn escaped his mouth. 

“I’m sorry, Robbe,” his mother spoke. “I just realized what time it was. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“You didn’t wake me up,” Robbe spoke quickly. He glanced around, unsure what to tell his mother about what he had actually been doing. Noor was talking to her friend that had walked up to them, but she glanced at him, worried. His friends, including Noor, had been waiting as anxiously as he was for news about his mother. “I was just studying for a test that I have on Monday. Time got away from me.”

His mother let out a breath of relief. “That’s good. I meant to call you earlier, but I guess I must’ve fallen asleep without realizing it. How has the apartment been? Are the boys taking care of you?”

Robbe smiled. “Yeah, they are. How are you feeling?”

“I’m good. The doctors think that I’ll only be in a couple of weeks this time. They were talking about how they’ll have to change my meds again,” his mother spoke. “Will you visit me while I’m in here?” 

“Of course,” Robbe promised. “I will.” His mother let out a yawn. As much as Robbe didn’t want to get off the phone with his mother, he knew that she needed to get some sleep. “Mama, I’ve got to get to bed. I’ll talk to you in the morning, okay?”

“Make it in the afternoon. I have a session with the doctor in the morning. I’ll ask when you can start visiting,” his mother spoke, sounding sleepy. Even though she couldn’t see, Robbe found himself nodding his head anyways. “Have a good night’s sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Robbe replied before hearing the dial tone. He let out a breath that he didn’t realize that he was even holding. His mom was okay and safe. 

“Is everything okay with your mom? Why was she calling so late?” It was Noor, appearing at his side with a concerned plastered on her face. Her bag was thrown over her shoulder and his brown jacket was bundled up in her arms. He took it from her, slipping it over his shoulders, as he nodded his head. 

“Yeah, she’s okay,” Robbe informed her. Noor let out a breath of relief, running her hand through her hair as she turned back around. Robbe glanced where she was looking, only to find the boy wrapped up in the black hoodie, leather jacket, and a mask to be taking a picture of Noor’s mural. “She meant to call me earlier and had fallen asleep. She didn’t realize what time it was until after I picked up.” 

“That’s good,” Noor replied. She reached out to take his arm. “Let’s go home, yeah?”

“What about your mural?” he questioned. 

Noor pointed a finger to the guy taking photos. “He’s going to print it out for me. He’s got a studio for everything that he’s into. I’ll get it sometime in the week.”

“Alright, let’s go home.” Robbe laughed, letting her pull him from the warehouse. As the two of them left arm-in-arm, the two talked about Robbe’s mom had talked to him about, unaware of the green eyes that staring at their backs.

It’s only later in the morning after Robbe is woken up to the sounds of Jens talking with Moyo in the kitchen, talking about making another vlog, after Robbe had groggily walked in on the two conversing over the coffee pot with a sleepy Noor at the table, that he realized that he had never checked the Instagram notification. As his roommates bickered and Noor sipped on her coffee, Robbe checked his phone. 

earthlingoddity has added to his story

It was a simple black picture, not showing anything other than a faint outline of where the platinum-haired man was vaguely standing. There was white text across the screen, diagonal and slanted: Do you ever see someone and just know they’re the one? 

…

When Moyo and Noor were finally able to have their anniversary celebration that weekend, the rest of the boys had vacated the apartment, leaving it to the happy couple of four years. Jens had hopped on the train to visit Lucas at his flat. Aaron had an exclusive party to go to Amber’s house. Robbe had wandered a bit where he could end up going, but he decided on texting Milan and ask if he could stay in the spare bedroom (which had been empty since Zoë had moved out). With Lisa out of the house with party plans and no third roommate, the two of them had the living room for the night and a bottle of alcohol passed between them. 

“How’s school?” Milan questioned. 

“Almost done,” Robbe admitted, letting out a sigh. His eyes flickered around the room, catching all the empty places where Zoë’s things once were.

“And?” Milan pressed. 

“And what?”

“Are there any cute boys?” Robbe chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t give me that look. As your gay-guru, I have the right to make sure that you are properly satisfied.” 

Robbe barked out a laugh, shaking his head. “There’s no one. I’m afraid that Jens is getting more action than I am right now. I think I’ve actually seen his boyfriend more than I’ve been seeing someone,” Robbe replied. 

“So no one? Not even one night flings?”

Robbe shrugged. There were a couple of one-night flings that he had over the years, but it had been a while since he had one himself. “Not for a bit.” 

“Well, you’re boring,” Milan deadpanned. 

Robbe scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “But, what about you, Milan? Have you finally decided to ask out that guy from the coffee shop or are beating you around the bush because you don’t want to get hurt?” 

Milan looked offended, holding his hand over his chest. “Excuse you, baby Robbe? As your gay-guru, you have no right to speak to me like that,” he started before the older man descended into laughter, almost falling off of the couch. He straightened up, wiping the tears from his eyes. “I’m just waiting to make my move.”

“At a snail’s pace,” Robbe teased. Milan let out a gasp, getting up to go into the kitchen and fetch another bottle of vodka or wine. Whatever Milan decided. His phone buzzed in his lap and he glanced at it with a curious gaze. There was an Instagram notification from Noor (noor.bauwens has tagged you in a post) and Robbe was smiling before he had even opened the post. 

The post was simply a photo of Noor with Moyo in their apartment kitchen. Moyo was sitting in a chair, pressing a kiss to Noor’s cheek as she sat perched on his lap, her arms curled around his neck and one hand on his cheek. The framed photo of her spray painting masterpiece was being held up on both of them, partially cut off by the Instagram photo restrictions. The frame itself had been larger than Robbe had been expecting, but it could’ve easily been hung above their bed. Robbe was certain that he would be able to see it in person once he was able to go back into his apartment tomorrow morning (or afternoon, depending on how long his tequila/wine-induced hangover lasted). 

noor.bauwens: happy anniversary, my love. here’s to many more years and moments together. special thanks to @sterkerdanijzer for keeping me company while I stayed up too late to finish and to @earthlingoddity for taking the photo of my gift and framing it (and the photo credit) love you both <3

Wait… Robbe thought, his eyes staring at the second username tagged. Since when did Noor know him? Had she known him the entire time?

“Aww,” Milan had returned, leaning over Robbe’s shoulder and placing the bottle of wine on the table. The smaller boy jumped with a start and his friend gave him an apologetic grin. “That’s adorable. And, that’s a beautiful picture. Is that the mural that she dragged you to the warehouse to do?” 

“Yeah, it’s pretty amazing in person too,” Robbe replied, shaking his head. He posted a comment beneath the photo. 

sterkerdanijzer: glad to help; love you two <3 @noor.bauwens

“Oh? Maybe she’ll show me one day,” Milan spoke. “Want some wine?” Robbe gladly extended his glass to be filled before announcing that he had to go to the bathroom before they started the next episode. Milan had laughed, pouring his glass and Robbe had run off, sliding down the hall and forgetting his phone in the living room. As Robbe headed back into the living room, Milan shouted, “Hey, who’s earthlingoddity?”

“Huh?” Robbe questioned, stepping into the living room. The older man was sitting on the couch, his glass of wine in one hand and Robbe’s phone in the other with his legs curled beneath him. Robbe felt his eyes roll in his head. That’s what he gets for leaving his phone unattended with Milan in the room. As Robbe passed him, he snatched his phone from Milan’s grasp. “Milan, when we were roommates, you promised that you would stop looking through my phone.” 

Milan rolled his eyes, pulling up his phone and typing into the search bar. “Jokes on you, I can still find out who he is,” Milan teased. Robbe rolled his eyes, moving to start the next episode as he tucked his phone between his thigh and the couch. “Oh, he’s cute,” Milan spoke up, scrolling through his Instagram. “And, it looks like he’s quite popular. Wait, is this that Instagram guy you have a crush on?”

Robbe rolled his eyes. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you. I don’t have a crush on him. He’s an influential Instagram profile that just so happens to have a lot of interesting art.”

(It’s a lie, of course, because Robbe definitely has a crush on him, in the completely unattainable celebrity-crush kind of way.)

“Well,” Milan spoke, locking his phone and putting it down on the couch between them. “Well, either way, he followed you on Instagram.” 

“Huh?” Robbe blinked, his brain short-circuiting. There was no way in any universe that Sander, earthlingoddity, whichever you wanted to call him by, would follow Robbe of all people. Robbe wasn’t anything interesting, mostly being tagged in posts by his friends and random stuff with the boys. “What are you talking about?” 

Milan didn’t even glance away from the television as he took a sip of wine. “Robbe, did you even look at the notification?” 

Robbe pulled his phone out from between his thigh and the couch, pressing the lock button. There were a number of Instagram notifications now. There were a handful of comments and likes from their friends and family members. There was even a comment from Moyo’s mom, who had spent the better part of the past four years mumbling to Robbe that Noor was going to be her daughter-in-law someday. Robbe scrolled through the notifications until he found the one that Milan had mentioned. 

earthlingoddity started following you

As Robbe settled back into the couch, he felt a smile grow on his face. 

“Was I wrong?” Milan questioned, leaning towards him. 

Robbe scoffed, pink growing on his cheeks as he ducked his head. “Shut up.” 

Milan grinned, bright and toothy. “You do have a crush on him!” 

“Shut up, Milan!” 

… 

earthlingoddity sent you a message

Robbe didn’t know why he was so nervous, his thumb hovering over the notification. He knew that he was acting like a kid with an intense crush on a boy, his first real crush, and the very thought was ridiculous because Robbe had crushes before. Robbe had boyfriends before. Hell, Robbe had one-night stands that ended with him leaving in the dead of night, nervously trying to leave quietly so he wouldn’t be caught. He had experience with guys. So, why was he so nervous about a simple Instagram message?

Robbe didn’t know but it was beyond frustrating that this man, someone who Robbe had never even met before and had spent far too much time staring at his photos and his live-streams, had managed to have such a profound impact on him in such a short span of time. 

Pushing up from his bed, the topic of his essay forgotten and his mathematical proof half-finished, Robbe crossed his legs beneath him and nervously fiddled with his hair. He realized how ridiculous he was being. It wasn’t like Sander could see him through the camera of his phone. It was just a simple Instagram message. In fact, it probably had to do with Noor’s photo. 

Yeah, that’s all it was, Robbe decided, finally opening the message. 

That wasn’t what it was. 

You’re so beautiful.

I’m such a fan.

Robbe’s cheeks flushed as he stared down at the message, trying to figure out what to say in response. The first response that pops into Robbe’s mind is have you seen yourself? But, even though it was wholeheartedly true, Robbe decided quickly that he did not want to send that message. He did not want to have to admit how much time he’s looked at the selfies that Sander had posted a little too long since Robbe had started following him.

So, instead, he decided to answer the second half of his text.

You’re a fan? I literally check your Instagram every day. 

Shit.

I mean… like I see you on my feed every day. 

Please don’t take that a weird way.

Robbe spent the next couple of minutes, nervously tapping at his phone and refreshing the conversation. He could see that Sander was still online and there were nerves vibrating throughout every fiber of his being. His phone buzzed, bringing him back to the conversation. 

God, you’re so adorable :)

Robbe exhaled a breath of relief, his cheeks growing hotter by the second, and ran a hand through his hair as another message popped up. 

So, you’re a fan of mine?

Yeah.

Do you listen to David Bowie?

Yes, I listen to your Bowie playlist all the time.

God, Robbe thought, running his hand across his face and letting out a groan. The man must think that Robbe was a stalker or something, listening to his playlist and following his Spotify as well as basically stalking him on Instagram. His chat had flickered offline after he had sent his last message so Robbe knew that he hadn’t seen the message quite yet. Once his eyes had caught sight of the green bubble beside his profile picture, indicating that he had returned online, Robbe quickly added:

It’s a good playlist.

Oh really? I’m glad you like it.

It’s only the beginner playlist.

The beginner playlist?

When do I get permission to listen to the advanced set?

When you pass your first exam.

Oh? Is it difficult?

Extremely.

That’s going to be a lot of studying.

There’s a shout from Noor down the hall before the door to his bedroom was opening. Glancing at him, she blinked in surprise and Robbe glanced around. He was in the midst of all his books and notebooks from class, spread out around him like a disorganized tornado of papers and notes. She leaned against the door frame to his room and tilted her head, “How’s studying for your tests going?” 

“Non-existant,” Robbe admitted, locking his screen as she stepped into his room. He made space on his bed for her to sit down and she flopped down on his bed, crossing her feet beneath her. “What’s up?”

“What are you doing tonight?” she questioned. 

“Lucas and I talked about trying to figure out what to do for Jens’ birthday in a couple of months,” Robbe admitted, quietly despite the fact that he knew that Jens hadn’t been home yet. “Jens is going to his weekly dinner with his dad so it’s the only time that we’ll get the time to have an idea. Why?” 

“Britt’s been bugging me about going to dinner,” Noor admitted. 

“Britt?” Robbe questioned. “I thought you guys stopped talking years ago?” 

“Yeah, we did,” Noor replied, shrugging her shoulders as she looked over a sketch he made in the margins of his notes. “But, she messaged me the other day. I wanted to make amends or something. So, Moyo and I are going to meet her and her friend to hang out and catch up.”  

“And you’re asking me? Even with our history, Britt and I never really got along. I am Jens’ best friend so when the two of them broke up, I basically became scum of the Earth,” Robbe replied, shrugging his shoulders. “Then, it was only amplified when the two of us broke up.”  

Noor shrugged her shoulders. “While all completely true, I was thinking that you might come by and pick up Moyo and make some excuse for him to leave,” Noor admitted, turning towards him. “Britt never really cared for Moyo either and I don’t want him to have to be at a dinner where someone doesn’t want him there.”

“I want to be there,” Moyo spoke up, entering Robbe’s bedroom. The man was carrying a large plastic bag filled with cereal and was eating out of it. He stepped closer to Noor, who turned to him. “She’s your friend.”

“I know,” Noor admitted, reaching up to touch his hand. “But, I also know how she can get. Plus, she’s never been too keen on my boyfriends anyways. When I mentioned to her that we had gone a date the first time, I thought she was going to faint. The last thing I want is for you to be caught in the crossfire.” 

“I could show up and make an excuse to get you both out of there,” Robbe supplied. 

“That might work if the date ends up going badly that is. We’ll see,” Noor admitted, glancing at Robbe. “Britt and I were never really good at double dates.”

The front door slammed, followed by hasty movements. The shuffling continued down the hallway, towards them, until Jens appeared in the doorframe with Lucas’s lips pressed against his neck and his hand under his boyfriend’s shirt. After Robbe’s best friend spotted them, he stopped outside the door as Robbe was already reaching for his headphones on his nightstand. 

Jens glanced at them, a threatening look on his face as his eyes flickered between all of them, “Consider this a ten-minute warning to vacate the apartment or your complaints are invalid.” Lucas laughed before Jens is backing them into the latter’s bedroom across the hall, slamming the door behind him. 

Noor was already moving to get up, grabbing Moyo’s hand and leaving. “I’ll text you the restaurant,” Noor spoke. “I’m sure one of us will let you know when we’re ready for you to make an excuse. If it decides to happen at all.” Robbe nodded his head, giving her a thumbs-up as she closed the door to his bedroom. He turned his attention to connecting his headphones to his phone, starting up the music as soon as it was connected. Once the music had started wafting through the speakers, effectively blocking out any noise around him, Robbe turned back to his notes. 

His phone vibrated, remind him with a start and pulling him back fully to his phone, his homework abandoned once again. 

Sander. 

Who knows? Maybe you might be able to bribe the teacher.

Robbe smiled, his stomach churning in knots. It might’ve been a while since Robbe had been interested in a guy, and it might’ve been through text message, but this entire exchange felt like flirting. He almost wished that they were face-to-face so that way Robbe would know for sure. 

Should I dare to take that risk?

I’ll give you some advice later tonight.

If you want.

Robbe’s heart thumped in his chest, wishing that he didn’t have plans with Lucas (and possibly Aaron) for Jens’ party or possible plans with Noor and Moyo. But, he knew that they needed to work on the party, or at least have an idea, since they would have a limited amount of time to put it all together. So, he typed out his response.

I’d love to, but I have plans tonight. 

Ah, okay. 

Tomorrow?

Robbe couldn’t keep the grin off his face, biting down on his bottom lip in an attempt to smother it.

...

Concept: The Broooers are a famous YouTube vlog channel located in Antwerp that updates weekly and Sander has a crush on the brunet boy that has a wide range of facial expressions and an affinity for making a fool of himself (and looking beautiful while doing it).

[mama-m1na]

The Kiss of Death: Chapter 5

~~~V~~~

“Right on time,” the golden-eyed male smirked as the teen around to be met with the sight of an older styled, wooden ship.

Despite this being an incredible sight on its own, what caught the ravenette’s attention was the torn, black flag flying from just above the crow’s nest, marked with a dirty white skull and crossbones.

‘Pirates?’ she thought as a nearby door slammed open from the deck above the pair.

“It’s the Lilium!” exclaimed a male voice from the opened doorway.

“That would be correct,” Assad spoke before sweeping the teen off of her feet, carrying her bridal style.

“Wait!” What are you- Holy shit!” the female exclaimed, gripping onto the male as he vaulted over the railing, bracing herself for the icy sting of the dark waters below.

However, it never came. 

The female opened her eyes to see that the male was running across the water’s surface with a chuckle at her expression as a faint green aura surrounded his form.

“Don’t worry, Prinsesa,” he spoke with a slightly cocky grin as he reached the edge of the pirate ship, “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

If her heart wasn’t already broken, then it shattered right in that moment.

The ravenette let out a small whimper as she was set on a floating bubble of water that began to ascend to the main deck.

“Nessa, take her back to my quarters and watch over her for me!” the male called before running back to the cruise liner along with other pirates.

“God dammit, Assad! I’m not your… babysitter,” a woman with dark skin and short, bleached hair spoke as she walked to where the bubble had dropped the teenager off.

“What the hell would he want with a Ukaidian woman?” she muttered to herself in confusion as her amber eyes swept over the female’s form.

“Whatever,” the woman scoffed, taking the teen by the wrist and leading her to a door on the main deck, “orders are orders.”

Upon opening the door, the eighteen-year-old was shoved into a very lavish room.

Despite the low ceiling, it was much nicer than the small house the ravenette had back in Ukaidia, with treasure displayed almost everywhere and a decent  sized dining table in the center with a large bed towards the back of the room.

“You can explore the room if you want, just don’t fuck the captain’s shit up,” the woman spoke as she popped open a bottle of what smelled like beer.

To her surprise, the teen just took a seat at the dining table without so much as a word, only turning her head to look around the room in slight curiosity.

Some time passed before the pirate spoke again, swishing whatever liquid was left in the tinted, glass bottle.

“You sure are a strange one,” the woman commented, gaining the teen’s attention as she leaned on the wall next to the door, “Usually girls like you would be panicking right now.”

“This is honestly the least concerning thing that has happened to me in the past month,” the ravenette spoke before letting out a heavy sigh.

“Care to elaborate?” her temporary companion asked before the door opened to reveal the young pirate captain.

“Welcome, back Captain,” greeted the woman as he hung his coat up on a hook by the door, “I take it that things went well with the raid?”

“Yes, they didn’t put up much of a fight, but that’s to be expected,” the male replied before his gaze fell upon the teen who was still just sitting at the table with her hands in her lap and ankles crossed with her toes pointed towards the floor.

“Are you just going to keep hiding your face?” he asked, walking over to the table, “No one here is going to do anything to you.”

The female pulled down her mask, earning a gasp from the other female in the room as her glamour fell to reveal the ravenette’s true form.

“There’s my Prinsesa,” the male spoke softly as he reached over to take hands into his, fondly running his thumbs over them.

“Are you really the same pirate boy that would keep visiting my temple all those years ago?” the ravenette asked as she avoided his gaze, “Because I can’t imagine that he would be treating me so kindly after I just left without saying a word.”

“Prinsesa, I saw what happened to the temple, I heard what happened that day,” Assad began, “You didn’t leave just because, you were taken.”

“No,” she retorted, shaking her head as her form stiffened, “I could have kept fighting, but I chose to give up. I was just a coward. The king was on the same ship that I was dragged to. If I had just sunk it back then…”

“Rhamina, let me ask you one thing,” Assad started as the female finally looked up at him, “What were you feeling that day?”

It was silent for a few moments before the female sighed, gripping onto the hand he had offered her.

“I was angry that they had just invaded my homeland and life for no good reason, but I was mostly just tired,” she admitted, finally able to express her feelings after eight long years of trying to forget, “I was tired of all the the hostility, tired of all the violence, and I was tired of being left alone.”

“You know, I still don’t understand why you’re forgiving me,” she continued, biting her lower lip.

“I’m not. There’s nothing to forgive,” the male replied as he sat next to the ravenette, “You were a kid that was thrust into a war she wanted no part of. A war that took your parents from you and forced you to take on a role you weren’t prepared for. You had a right to be tired and what you did was what you needed to in order to survive.”

“If you didn’t,” he continued with a sigh as he relished in his found friend, “Then I would have never been able to see your pretty again.”

His golden irises met with her mostly brown orbs, letting her see the honesty within his words despite the cool tone. 

The ravenette gave a small smile as a chuckle escaped her exhausted from.

“I don’t remember you being this smooth when we were younger, though I guess I changed quite a bit as well,” she spoke before stretching over the back of the chair, releasing small squeaks as her back popped.

“I could tell that much from our little meetings after your quite provocative performances,” the male quipped earning a huff and smack on the shoulder from the ravenette.

“But one thing has stayed the same over all these years,” he continued, resting his elbow on the table to prop up his head as he smirked up at the teen.

“Oh yeah?” the ravenette asked with a raised brow, “and what would that be Assad?”

“The fact that you’re still my cute little Prinsesa,” he replied suavely causing the girl’s jaw to drop.

Rhamina’s eyes widened as she felt her face heat up and she immediately looked away, telling the male to shut up as she sputtered out about how she wasn’t cute in the slightest bit.

“Sorry for interrupting your little reunion, but could one of you explain what the hell is happening here?” the woman, holding a now empty beer bottle, asked.

The ravenette stood up and bowed before saying, “I am Rhamina Miyu, the last remaining guardian of the Gods’ temple in Lemuria. It’s nice to meet you.”

“She’s the girl I talked about before,” Assad added as the ravenette straightened out her posture.

“The chick with the crazy high magic affinity, got it,” the woman nodded before turning back to the teen, “but what were you doing on a cruise ship, disguised as a Ukaidian?”

“Well,” Rhamina started with a frustrated smile as she reached up to scratch at her neck, “you see, I was framed for murdering the queen of Ukaidia and I kind of needed a way out, so I couldn’t exactly do that as myself.”

Her expression immediately dropped as a realization struck her.

“Fuck!” she groaned, almost slamming her face down into the wooden table, “My plans are absolutely screwed now!”

“Not that this wasn’t a good thing!” she continued quickly, “I just needed that ship to get me to Norcht.”

“Why Norcht?” the woman asked with a raised brow, “Shouldn’t you go back to Lemuria to, you know, let your people know you’re alive?”

 “I will, but I needed to get my friends out of Ukaidia and with me first,” explained the ravenette, “the king has finally lost his shit. Many of them would get in the crossfire, so I need to be able to take them with me or at least transport them to somewhere where their chances of getting fucked over aren’t one hundred percent.”

Alright, that’s enough for tonight,” Assad spoke as he stood from his seat and turned to the dark skinned woman, “We can talk more tomorrow, Nessa.”

“Alright, I’ll leave you two to yourselves then,” she sighed as she made her way out the door, “Have a nice night.”

“You can take the bed, I’ll just-” “No, it’s fine, you take the bed,” the ravenette spoke, cutting off her childhood friend, “It’s not like I could use it anyways.”

“I haven’t been able to actually sleep since the night of my shit show of a trial,” she continued with a bitter frown on her face.

Assad’s expression reflected her own before he once again swept the girl into his arms earning a yelp from the teen.

“What are you doing?!” she almost shrieked before she was placed onto the bed, Assad climbing in after her.

“Even if you can’t sleep, you’d stay and keep me company, right?” the male asked as his arms snaked around her waist, keeping her in place.

“It doesn’t seem like I have a choice, now does it?” she replied with a chuckle as she relished in a warmth that she had missed since the war so long ago.

As the male closed his eyes he began singing as a familiar lullaby drifted into the female’s head, one that she had taught to him.

“Let me sing a lullaby, as you close your eyes,” he began, causing the female to tense, “And as you’re drifting off to sleep, how I hope that the dreams that you find are bright.”

“Love, can we meet again soon in the bluest of skies? Where a tomorrow waits for you and I,” he continued as the female let out a yawn, “So hold me tight one more time, but don’t kiss me goodbye ‘cause I know that I’ll see you on the other side.”

“I will think of our song when the nights are too long,” Assad sung as the female relaxed, eyes drifting shut, “Love, can we meet again soon in the bluest of skies? Only in my dreams do we meet again.”

It felt as if she was floating in an eternal black void before the ground formed beneath her feet.

 Looking around at her familiar surroundings, Rhamina noticed that she was in the room of Prince Umi.

She immediately turned to see the said male tossing and turning in his bed, probably having another nightmare.

With a frown, the ravenette moved to sit at the edge of the bed, petting his head, praying that even if she weren’t actually there it would bring him some sort of comfort.

“I’m so sorry, Umi,” she whispered as his squirming slowed, “I promise that I’ll get you out of there soon enough. I just need to settle things out first, but I promise I didn’t forget about you.”

Her ears perked up at the sound of drowsy words coming from the male’s mouth, causing her to lean in to properly hear what he was saying.

“Rhamina… ” she heard him call out in his sleep as her chest tightened in pain, “… Don’t leave…”

“I didn’t leave you, Hun,” the ravenette spoke, pressing her forehead to his, “I’m right here.”

When she woke up, Rhamina noticed that she was alone in the large bed, the blankets pulled up to voer her form as she rested.

She stretched out her limbs before noticing a bundle of clothes on the table with a note explaining that Nessa decided to lend her some clothes so she didn’t have to keep walking around the ship in just her nightgown.

With a smile, the teen changed out of her light blue nightgown and into the black leggings and matching cropped tube top before folding the enchanted fabric she used as a mask to hold her hair back as a headband.

Nessa was also nice enough to leave her a pair of black sandals, so Rhamina slipped them on before walking out to see busy bodies all over the ship.

“Hey, good morning, Ms. Lemurian!” a female voice greeted as a hand was placed on Rhamina’s shoulder, “Good to see that everything fit.”

“Thank you, Nessa,” smiled the ravenette as she bowed her head in thanks, “You really didn’t have to do this for me.”

“Trust me, I really did,” muttered the woman, “you have no idea how long a lot of these guys have been dying to ruin an innocent thing like you.”

“What?” the Lemurian asked with wide eyes and a nervous smile.

“You got nothing to worry about since everyone knows you’re important to the captain,” Nessa chuckled, slinging an arm around her shoulders, “but seriously, you should stick around me for now.”

“Oh, yes, that makes me all the more comfortable,” the ravenette replied as the pair walked towards the bow of the ship.

“It isn’t that bad,” Nessa chuckled, “You get used to it. You just gotta put them in their place if they get too pushy.

“Me watching you is just to make sure Assad doesn’t lose his shit,” she continued, watching as the younger female looked down to the ocean below.

“Where is Assad anyway?” Rhamina asked as she sat on the nearby railing, facing away from the water.

“He’s out training right now so he’ll be back soon,” the female explained as she stood in front of the teen.

The ravenette nodded as she closed her eyes, legs swinging back and forth like a child would.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how exactly did you and the captain meet?” Nessa inquired, seeing the blissful look of the younger female, “he never really explained much about his relationship with you. Just that you were important to him and really good with magic.”

“Well, he was actually caught trying to steal a relic from my temple,” replied the ravenette with a smile, “and this happened when I was… seven, I think?”

“So your parents caught him?” the woman asked, causing the ravenette to shake her head at the assumption.

“No, they were at an important meeting with the leader of our country that week, so I was in charge of the temple,” continued rhamina with a soft, reminiscent smile gracing her features, “he was so frustrated when he saw that I was able to stop him.”

“This went on for a few weeks, even after my parents came home, until one day he just walked up to me and plopped down on the stairs in front of the main entrance of the temple instead of barging in like normal,” she continued, remembering the serious expression of the young boy, “When I asked, he said that he just wanted to talk, so I sat down with him and that’s what we did until he left for the night.”

“You just sat down right next to him?” Nessa asked with a raised brow, earning a nod in return, “Were you stupid? He could have killed you.”

“I wasn’t stupid, just too trusting and naive,” clarified the teen before continuing, “and I’m pretty sure his original plan was to kill me that day because he had a knife hidden in his sleeve, he just never pulled through with it.”

“From that point on, he visited me almost every other day at the stairs of the temple and we became good friends,” Rhamina chirped with a smile, “My parents were weary at first, but after seeing how well we got along and how he would frequently pull me out of stupid situations and vice versa they warmed up to him. I even was able to introduce him to my extended family by the time my birthday rolled around.”

The ravenette was happily explaining her childhood memories with the infamous pirate captain as Nessa watched over her and listened intently, imagining the scenarios being described in full detail.

Suddenly, a pair of hands grabbed her waist from behind, causing her to leap forward, away from the railing, in a small cloud of smoke with a squeal leaving her lips.

When the smoke dissipated, Rhamina was pouting on the ground with a pair of black fox ears pressed flat against her head and the nine matching fox tails thumping on the ground behind her.

“Y’all are mean!” she huffed as the pirate pulled himself over the railing to join his first mate who was laughing her ass off.

“Just when I thought you couldn’t get any more adorable,” chuckled the twenty-year-old male as the teen wrapped herself in her tails.

“Fuck you,” the teen hissed from her ball of fluff, “how did you do that anyways?”

“I would’ve thought you would remember the magic you taught me,” Assad spoke before holding out a hand to the ravenette who took it as he non-human appendages disappeared in another puff of white smoke.

“If I’m being honest, I never thought you’d seriously start using magic,” the ravenette replied as she dusted herself off, “I just taught you because I could sense you had a decent affinity towards magic.”

“Well, I’m glad I actually paid attention then,” replied the male as he leaned against the railing, “It has been a crucial part of many raids.”

“Care to demonstrate?” the ravenette suggested, wanting to see what exactly her old friend was capable of.

The male then turned to the water before he took a calming breath, a green aura shrouding his form as his pupils narrowed into vertical slits.

Like he had done many times before, he let his energy call the water to rise into a large wall at the side of his ship.

“So I was right in assuming you would be a serpent,” spoke the teen as she caught a glimpse of his eyes, glowing gold.

“Yes you were, though I have no how you were so accurate,” Assad replied as his eyes returned to normal and the aura thinned while the water fell back down.

“Lemurians tend to have very good spiritual intuition,” chirped the ravenette with a bright smile, “but I guess that’s just because of our high magical affinity.”

    “That’s a legit thing?” Nessa asked as the female blocked the sun’s blaze with her hand.

“Yes! Because of it, every Lemurian is capable of using magic even if they don’t use it actively,” she explained before gesturing at a Lemurian crew member.

“Like him,” she started, “I’m betting he says that he can see ghosts or predict the future quite shockingly well.”

“Good job, two out of two,” the blonde nodded with a smirk, “I knew that he was like that, but I never knew it could be a whole people.”

“That’s because in ancient times, we were very close to the gods; in fact, there’s a doorway to the spirit world somewhere in Lemuria,” beamed the teen as she spoke of the homeland she hasn’t seen in years, “I just haven’t found it yet.”

“Why don’t you catch us up over lunch?” Assad suggested as he led both females back to the dining table in his quarters.

“So what was it like living in Ukaidia for so long?” Nessa asked as the male walked out to get their food, “if you want to answer, that is.”

“No, it’s fine,” chuckled the ravenette, “It was actually okay. Everyone fucking despised me at first and a lot of people still do, but I made a lot of friends.”

“Oh, did you make any ‘special’ friends?” the woman asked, leaning in closer with a smirk.

“Huh?” the teen asked with a straight face, not exactly getting what the woman was asking of her.

“Kid, did you have any romantic relationships with anyone?” the woman sighed upon seeing the confusion on Rhamina’s face.

“Oh,” replied the ravenette as her face warmed up, “Well, there was one guy who was courting me before I had to go.”

“”Just one?” questioned the blonde with a raised brow before shaking her head, “Continue.”

“Well, he’s a year younger than me and stubborn, very stubborn, but he’s actually very sweet to those he cares about. He always denies it when asked though,” the teen explained with a bright smile on her face.

“So the boy is a tsundere?” Nessa asked as she pulled out a bottle of beer from… somewhere…

“Very much so,” chuckled Rhamina before continuing.

“Despite his initial cold front,” she explained, “He’s actually very thoughtful when it comes to others… that he can tolerate… and he’s very humble when it comes to his own skill when he’s very skilled with a bow and when it comes to swordplay, he is only shown up by his older brother.

Nessa was silent as the teen continued to gush about the boy of hers before things clicked into place.

“Rhamina, is the boy who’s been courting you the second prince, Umi?” she asked with narrowed eyes as Assad walked back in with a basket of food.

“I know it seems weird, but he wouldn’t do anything to me,” Rhamina replied as the male silently set up the plates, “I trust him.”

“You can’t seriously believe that after what that kingdom just did to you,” groaned the woman.

“What happened?” Assad asked with a small frown on his face.

“Apparently, the second prince of Ukaidia was courting her when she was accused of murdering their queen,” Nessa replied.

“Umi isn’t like that though!”the ravenette defended as she shot up from her seat, “he’s very kind, albeit a tad bit frustrating at times, but he isn’t one to stab friends in the back. The one who condemned me to death was that bastard king!”

With her last outburst, her eyes flashed gold as her magic flared, needles of ice to materialize and fly from her, nearly hitting the two pirates if they hadn’t had the reflexes to duck behind the table and other furniture.

With her breath evening out and realization settling in her head, Rhamina closed her eyes and took a deep breath to further calm herself.

With a sigh, the eighteen-year-old slumped back into her chair before laying her forehead on the wooden table, resting her hands on the back of her head as thoughts raced through her mind.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, bringing her head up after a minute or two with a strained smile, “If you couldn’t tell, the past month has been quite an adventure for me.”

“No, I should be the one apologizing,” Nessa sighed as she came up to sit down as well, “I shouldn’t have pushed you on such a sensitive topic.”

“Prinsesa, I know you have the ability to tell whenever a person is lying, so normally I would trust your judgement,” Assad spoke in a calm tone as he placed a hand on the teen’s shoulder, “but I have to agree with Nessa. It’s very suspicious that a Ukaidian prince tries to court you when the king hates you with his entire being.”

‘Don’t you both think that I already thought about that?’ she thought, merely blinking at the two in front of her, ‘It could be true, but maybe I just wanted to believe that it isn’t. It could just be my mind reverting back to unhealthy defense mechanisms like when I was so paranoid whenever that boy at my temple would leave for more than ten minutes… I guess I haven’t changed at all in that aspect. I still cling pathetically onto others in times of distress.’

“In other news,” Assad spoke as he poured a glass of sparkling cider for the ravenette, “We should be reaching Norcht in five days.”

“We’re going to Norcht?” Rhamina asked, processing the words that were just spoken.

“That’s where you said you needed to meet your friends, right?” the male replied with a shrug, “As long as you use this ship for your travels, I honestly don’t care where we end up going.”

“Assad, you do realize another war could easily break out from what I’m trying to do,” Rhamina spoke as her expression darkened.

“And do you think I’m making the same mistake I made last time?” the male shot back with a serious tone, “I don’t want you to have to be alone anymore.”

“Prinsesa, you aren’t getting rid of me that easily,” he continued with determination in his voice, “Not when I just got you back.”

“So, tell us about these friends of yours,” Nessa spoke up, changing the subject, ignoring the stubborness radiating from the two in front of her.

“Where do I even start with these idiots?” she sighed with a chuckle, “Well, if anything happened to any of them, I’d kill everyone in this world and then myself.”

The trio stayed in the room, just retelling what had happened to them in the past couple of years as they ate their lunch.

“So, you were the ones that fucked up Captain Leon’s ship?” Rhamina asked through her fit of giggles, “Fuck yes! It was so funny hearing about how he got his haughty ass whooped!”

“Thing was, it wasn’t even that hard to do,” Nessa explained as the teen kept laughing, “Like, it wasn’t even a challenge.”

“I know! That’s what makes it funny!” chirped the ravenette, “see, Leon only got that position by through his ties through nobility, so when the pompous ass got demoted, it made him a complete and utter laughing stock!”

“Sounds like a cruel thing to laugh at, but he shouldn’t have been a captain in the first place,” she continued, “Now someone actually qualified has that title.”

“Ah, the human race is full of complete and utter scum,” she chuckled, leaning back in her seat as she caught her breath and calmed her heart.

“Prinsesa, you said that you didn’t have much opportunity to practice with your magic right?” Assad asked.

“Yeah,” she replied, “between my rolls with the band and the close watch the Ukaidians had on me, I didn’t really get much time to practice magic all that often, why?”

“How about we spar as a training opportunity?” the male suggested as the ravenette took a sip of her drink.

“Oh, I’ll definitely be training a lot more, but I’d save a battle between the two of us till we get to Lemuria,” Rhamina replied, “Wouldn’t want to cause a scene when I’m still on the run and you’ll be closer to immediate medical aid.” 

“Are you saying I can’t handle it?” the male asked with a raised brow.

“I don’t actually know,” she answered honestly, “lately my magic has been growing rapidly and i haven’t had the chance to test it to its full extent.”

“Also, It’s getting a little harder to control,” the ravenette explained, “Yes, magic is fueled by intentions of the user, but if I had that same outburst two months ago, my magic wouldn’t have spiked that much, if at all.”

You sure are a scary girl, you know?” Nessa chuckled.

“Good,” Rhamina replied, “I should be.”

About two days travel ahead of the Lilium was a Ukaidian ship, full of musicians of various races.

“Did you get any other messages from Mina?” Chloe asked as she joined the remaining two girls (plus one) within Chaos Trio.

“Nope, not since she got on that cruise ship,” Kerstin replied with a sigh.

“Don’t worry though, she’s fine,” Sam spoke, “Probably just ran out of decent stationary to use in order to write to us.”

“Yeah, fucking stationary nerd,” kerstin scoffed as she shook her head, “I just have a bad feeling though.”

“About?”

“That Jester character,” the darkette spoke, “if we left to go find Mina, why didn’t they just kill us on the spot, unless they already planned for us to do it and this is just a trap for someone?”

“We should have snuck the siblings with us,” she continued with a sigh, “This is all really sketchy.”

“We would have been killed if we tried to sneak them out,” Sam replied, “Plus I’m sure Mina wouldn’t just leave them there. She cares too much about them.

The green-eyed brunette sighed before saying, “We can only hope nothing weird happened before then.”

“Anyways,” she continued, turning to Kerstin and Chloe, “have either of you ever been to Lemuira?”

“Nope, but I’ve heard things about it from my parents and Mina,” Kerstin replied, “a lot of it is literally jungle, so prepare for humidity.”

“Better than being crusty,” Sam retorted before turning to the younger brunette,” What about you, Chloe?”

“Same as Kerstin, but from what I can tell, Mina comes from one of the more traditional islands,” Chloe explained, “so, there’s less people and probably more dangerous things there.”

“Makes sense,” the older two females agreed, imagining the ravenette to come from an island where killing a jungle beast with one’s own hands was normal.

“If you guys want to know what Lemuria is like, then why don’t you just ask Shay?” Tijarah suggested from her spot on her bed, “She’s actually been to Lemuria and is accessable to us.”

“Oh yeah, she has,” Chloe replied with a smile on her face, “I forgot.”

“Obviously,” scoffed the dark skinned girl as she peered outside the window.

“So what do you think she’s doing right now?” she asked out of no where, “Probably snaking her way to Norcht like the little demon she is, right?”

“Yeah, honestly I wouldn’t be surprised if she killed someone by now,” Sam replied.

“Good,” scoffed Tijarah, “Less summy people to fuck shit up in this world.”

“Tijarah, you aren’t still upset with Umi, are you?” Kerstin questioned as she turned to her friend, “This wasn’t his fault.”

“You know, things have started getting shifty with Armadeyus every since that the royal brat started courting her,” Tijarah spoke, keeping her gaze on the window, “Maybe if he just stayed friends with her, none of this would have happened.”

“Maybe if he really cared about Mina, then he would have been there with that stupid bow of his,” she continued, gripping hard onto the edges of the book her held, “maybe we could have broken the barrier on that first night!”

“Tijarah you need to calm the fuck down, none of that was Umi’s fault,” the brunette with green eyes retaliated, “Chloe knows that, Kerstin knows that, I know that, hell, I’m sure even Mina knows that! If you’re going to blame anyone, blame that fucking Jester! The king only had mina apprehended because they suggested it!”

“How are you so sure Umi wasn’t just trying to gain the favor of his father?” Tijarah questioned, venom lacing each and every one of her words, “How are we sure he actually cared about Mina? Maybe he planned this whole thing in order to kiss up to daddy?”

Things were tense in the small, three person cabin that night as the females outburst lingered in their heads and of those who had heard the argument through the thin walls and open doorway that Chloe stood in so that she could ask her original question.

The topic of the Second Prince of Ukaidia was a sensitive one amongst the entire band as they all had differing ideas of his intentions and involvement in the ravenette’s persecution.

“I’ll fix this soon,” spoke a glowing purple flame in a black void, “I promise.”

~~~Fin. Chapter 5~~~

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Song used: Issabella’s Lullaby - Amalee

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