#Vans fucked up eye my beloved I will bring you back thanks

[deankarolina]

I will never stop putting Van in silly shirts

[luveline]

could you maybe write struggling single dad!eddie? ily!!! 😘

love you! hope this is okay :D I did girl dad!eddie because ♡ fem!reader

Juggling car keys, a brown paper bag of groceries and a toddler that refuses to be put down today is not easy. And she's not always like this, Roan's usually a sweet (if quiet) girl who makes Eddie's life as easy as she can. A blessing, he thanks God or whoever for her everyday, but lately she's been clingy as climbing ivy.

"Babe," he says, stress seeping into the pet name and making it more chiding than he means, "could you relax?"

She glares at him. She's a mirror.

"You're being so mean to daddy today, you know that?"

She ignores him, small hands in the collar of his last nice work shirt and pulling. He can't stop her from stretching it out, doesn't have a hand free to pull her away and the shitty cruiser he swapped his beloved van for is still locked up tight.

"Baby, stop!" he scolds.

She looks like she might have a tantrum if she could. Roan pulls her hands away but starts to grizzle, a sniffle that turns loud that turns to full blown tears. He can't tell if they're crocodile tears or not. He feels awful anyhow.

Roan brings a hand up to slap his shoulder. Her fingers get caught in the fabric of his collar and she tugs to get free, jabbing herself in the eye with the back of her hand.

Her resulting cry is awful. Real, heart-hurting, Eddie forgets to be mad and starts shushing her gently. He presses his back sweaty with exertion against the cold window of the back seat door and pulls her in as close as he can.

"It's okay, sweetheart," he says softly.

She shrieks and hits the grocery bag. It topples. The groceries go everywhere. An orange rolls into the parking lot.

"Roan," he complains, defeated.

Patience, he thinks to himself desperately. Patience. She doesn't mean to.

He can't afford stuff like this. The time it takes to do simple things like get groceries feels expensive enough — he could be pressing Roan's clothes right now, or swapping out that cracked neck on the black Gibson so he can finally get paid for it, or fuck, he could be smoking a goddamn cigarette.

He sets her down. She screams bloody murder but he doesn't have a choice. He has to chase down the dispersed groceries desperately, cheeks pink with embarrassment.

Being a parent has made him hyper aware of other people's judgmental looks. He can feel eyes now on the top of his head and Eddie knows it's that cruel looking blonde woman from the cold cuts aisle who'd tried to lecture him on processed ham.

He picks his head up, words already rehearsed in his head. Lady, if you don't leave me alone I swear to fuck I'm gonna feed her nothing but TV dinners for the rest of her life. She's gonna be a junk food baby and you'll have no one to blame but yourself.

Only It's not the lady. It's a girl.

You wither under his fierce scowl and offer the two oranges in your hand to him unsurely.

"Sorry," you say, shifting forward a half step. "They rolled my way."

He accepts the oranges without talking, which is rude, so rude, but his heads already decided the order of things before his mouth can catch up. Shove the groceries in the bag. Put the bag on the floor. Pick up his kid. Help her calm down.

He hikes Roan onto his hip, rubs her back, and says, "God, I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else."

You visibly relax. Eddie's surprised you didn't turn tail and run.

"Yeah? Do I have a doppelganger?" you ask. You smile in this way that's totally your own, Eddie's never seen someone grin like that before. Maybe a little shy and the shyness is making you awkward, teeth peeking out, you're pretty.

He's shocked at the thought. She's pretty.

Years of womanising (with varying success) kicks in.

"No, God no. She wasn't nearly as pretty as you are, sweetheart."

Roan seems to realise that she's not the object of his whole affection and pulls on his hair. Eddie let's his head yank to the side with a hiss and then a rueful smile. The world skews. You follow his head movement with your own.

"Is that so? I guess you'd know all about pretty," you say, head dipped to your shoulder.

Eddie gets super excited thinking he's actually managed to pull this one off (a fucking impossibility).

You hold your hand out hesitantly and wave. He realises you had not been talking about him.

"You- Oh, yeah. She's lovely, isn't she?"

You beam. "'Lovely,'" you quote. "That's a nice word." Your attention slides to Roan. She basks in it. "Hey, baby. You're just something else, aren't you? You know! You know how pretty you are, don't go shy on me."

Roan goes smiley. Chubby cheeks full of colour, she grins and pulls her dark curls in front of her face. Like father, like daughter.

"What's her name?" you ask.

"Roan. I'm Eddie."

You introduce yourself, bent just slightly to talk directly to Roan. You offer your hand.

When Roan takes it, you shake her tiny hand gently and then rub your thumb over her fingers. "Nice to meet you, princess."

"Hi," she says slowly.

You give her hand a small squeeze and then take a step back, arms moving behind you. "God, she's a pretty baby. And she looks so much like you."

"Yeah?" he asks warmly.

You realise what you've said with a look like you've been struck. After a second, you blink and laugh self-consciously. "Well. It's true."

He's out of the game. He's miles away from the game. But if he doesn't ask you for coffee that's gotta be self sabotage, right? Eddie's trying to find the words when you take a strange breath.

"Listen, I've seen you around and- I know this is weird. Sorry, but you really are- God. Sorry, but do you wanna get coffee? Sometime?" you ask, clunky and awkward.

Eddie's enamoured. He forgets to answer because he can't believe his luck and you take it for something different, adding, "Or not coffee? What does the little lady like?"

He must smile wide enough to split his lip. "Chocolate, mostly."

"Like cake and stuff?"

"Loves it."

You nibble at the inside of your lip as you pull your bag around to your thigh and search inside for a pen. You pull out a leaflet, a Save The Children Pamphlet they pass around outside of the mall and wince as you tear a corner.

He watches you write down your number on the hood of his car. You do it quick, pass it to him quicker.

"You can just call me, let me know when you're free."

"I'm free when you are," he says like a loser. It's not even remotely true. Eddie's never free, but for you he's gonna make it happen.

"How about Thursday?"

Eddie nods. Roan slips down his side and looks between you both like she's watching a tennis match.

"Yeah, Thursday is perfect."

You smile. Eddie takes it all in, everything, your smile and your hair and your clothes and the way your fingers pull at one another. He can't believe you're the nervous one right now. His heart spins like a top in his chest.

"I'm sorry to ask you out and jet, but there's somewhere I gotta be," you say. You sound genuinely apologetic.

"No, of course-"

"But I'll see you on Thrusday. Outside of, um, Morgan's Desserts?"

"Sure, but-"

"Yeah?" you ask.

"I can bring Roan?" he asks.

Your expression softens. "Please. If you don't I'm gonna stand you up."

He laughs abruptly, a shock of it like a firecracker in his chest.

You move like you might leave but then pick up his grocery bag and pass it back it to him. "Bye, princess," you pause to say, looking melted by his daughter's puppy dog eyes, if he does say so himself.

"Bye," she says sweetly.

You nod at him. He nods back.

"Thursday," he calls at your retreating figure. You know, to make sure.

You shoot him a smile over your shoulder.

Roan turns in his hold to stare at his face.

"What?" he asks her.

"Chocolate?" she questions.

"Heard that, did you?" he mutters.

-

more eddie and roan

[tnoy-keraxis]

💤(A headcanon about their sleep), ❤️‍🔥(A romantic headcanon), 💄(An appearance headcanon), 🪢(A headcanon about their family) with max and kyle and richie ? and maybe. ruth also. if u feel like it <3

yesyesyesyesyes thank you beloved these are such good characters for this. all under the cut because ough theres so much

💤(A headcanon about their sleep) Max: sleeps like a FUCKING LOG. he has slept through every fire alarm ever. he could sleep through a natural disaster. he snores too it is the worst. hes just obnoxious frankly. Kyle: insomniac, he has like a little basket ball hoop on the back of his door and does that to pass the time. he is so tired always. max has woken up in the middle of the night to him doing pushups. Richie: He doesnt get enough sleep he is up til 4am, he sleeps during class, peter shakes him awake constantly. He claims he isn't tired, he is a filthy liar. Ruth: She seems to be nocturnal. she is most active at like 3am texting peter and richie, they don't understand her. But then when they have sleepovers she is out at 9pm, they are so confused and concerned. ❤️‍🔥(A romantic headcanon) Max: he had never properly dated anyone, all the rumours were literally just that. the first person he dated was kyle, promptly followed by richie and peter. Kyle: him and brenda fake dating is so special to me <3 he took it so seriously he bought her a gift for their FAKE 9 day anniversary hes such an odd dude and he committed to the bit Richie: his first date with each of his partners was showing them a movie or a show that reminded him of them/their taste in film, because thats how he shows love Ruth: she falls in love so easy and so quickly she adores her partners with all she has she is the most loving woman to ever exist. no one gave her the time of day for so long, but when they did <3 she was so fucking devoted and i adore her

💄(An appearance headcanon) Max: he has like greyish eyes and i think kyle brings up how pretty they are all the time <3 Kyle: his front teeth have like 3 chips in them from him getting hit in the face (this is kyle being a wrestler again, he got smashed into the mat <3) he has not gotten them fixed and probably will never. Richie: he has so many freckles idk why he just does, and thats it thats the headcanon <3 Ruth: She tried to do the different hairstyle every day thing and gave up after a week <3 it was taking time that cut into her, texting her friends obsessively time (this is based on myself i had the same fucking bad hairstyle all through high school until i just cut my hair, because i didnt want to take the time)

🪢(A headcanon about their family) Max: *cracks knuckles* time to pull out the jagerman-van brunt-walker-swanson family tree-- (in all seriousness I think he is very close with an aunt or uncle of his, just as some kinda reprieve from his dad) Kyle: he has the biggest family imaginable. they have family holidays and reunions every other week and kyle is so close with all of them there is no one he doesnt like. theyre the most obnoxious family. Richie: Richie has a brother (miles lipschitz my beloved) and a little sister, they watch anime together and are the best of friends tbh, the lipschitz household is weirdly peaceful. Ruth: Her parents (and brother) are complete and utter dorks they encourage all of her antics, they are proud of everything she does ever. the whole family dress up as padme, anakin, luke and leia for halloween every year.

[ageoffeet]

My Heart, Your Hands - A Jake Kiszka Fic

A/N: So I'm going to be adding parts to this and I'm honestly excited to see where it'll go! I've had this idea for a while and I'm finally writing in down. This first part doesn't contain a whole lot of gvf, it's more of an introduction of what's to come.

synopsis: slow burner fic with Jake Kiszka x fem!reader. Greta Van Fleet invites your band to open for them on tour.

word count: 1.2k (short and sweet to start off)

content warning: mentions of alcohol, cussing, brief mentions of sex, sibling bickering.

taglist: @way-to-go-lad @flowervanfleet (if you want me to add or unadd you from my taglist just let me know!)

Your fingers plucked the strings of your bright yellow bass and your foot tapped along to the notes that came pouring out of the amp.

"Hey, can you help with my drum set?" Jack sets down his snare and walks away, not giving you a chance to answer. Not your fault he has to put his set together every gig, especially when he acted like an ass in the van on the way here. You reluctantly swing your bass strap over your head and set your pride and joy on the stand.

"Y/N!"

"Oh my god, I'm coming!" You set off into a half jog towards the back exit where you parked the van. Miles gives you an equally frustrated look and continues helping Jack lug the pieces of his set out of the back of the van.

You just landed in Nashville, the last stop on your little America tour. This little band you started with your brother (Jack) and mutual friend (Miles) really started taking off after Miles graduated from high school so you all planned a "tour" which was more of a road trip with gigs at bars along the way. It had gone surprisingly well so far with more and more followers finding your socials and Spotify every week.

"Hey, are you guys MHYH?" You look toward the voice at the same time as your bandmates and nod. You guys thought your band’s name was cool but people hardly ever said the full name, preferring to use the acronym instead.

"Yeah, you coming to watch the show?" Miles turns away from Jack handing him another part of the drum kit to engage with the olive skinned girl standing at the opening of the alley.

"For sure! I was wondering if I could request a song of yours that might not be on your setlist." Miles smiles and walks away from Jack and I and towards the pretty girl. Jack lets out a loud huff and rolls his eyes at Miles' back.

"Fuck boy," he mutters. You laugh at his annoyance and pick up where Miles left, grabbing cymbals and stands and bringing them inside.

"I'm serious. He better be back in time for sound check." You set down what you're holding and turn towards Jack.

"You're just jealous you couldn't go talk to her first."

"Well I was crouched in the back of the van like a cave man." Jack was used to getting all the girls since Miles had been in a serious relationship but in the past month, things went sour between Miles and Katie so now Jack had some competition.

"I'm sure there will be plenty more at the show you can talk to." As much as Jack's banter was entertaining you, you couldn't get the sad thought out of your mind that this was your last show on this tour. With all the money you guys spent on gas and food, you barely broke even with tips and your share of ticket profits. It would be a while before you guys could afford to do this again.

Instead of watching Jack put together his drum kit, you decide to pick up your bass again and start plucking out the beginning notes of your most recent song, singing along in your head.

“I told you I had to leave this town

heaven knows you'll be alright

need to get away from here

start focusing on my own life”

"So Denim Dreams has been requested," Miles hopped up onto the small stage and started taking his guitar out of its case.

"Ew dude," Jack pauses setting up his snare to reply. "That's our worst fucking song."

Miles just shrugs with a ghost of a smile on his face and Jack sighs.

"If you make me play that song you better at least be getting laid tonight." You laugh at the two boys and turn to face them fully.

"We need to make our setlist." The three of you always waited right before a show to make the setlist but with thirty minutes to go before the doors opened, you were pushing it tonight.

"Fuck, I forgot we didn't do that yet. Y/N you're the lead singer, it's your job." You roll your eyes and grab your phone from your back pocket to make an impromptu setlist in your notes app.

"Make sure Denim Dreams makes it on there for our beloved fans," Jack replies, sarcasm dripping from his tongue. Miles flips him off and they both laugh at their bickering.

After you're happy with how the setlist looks, you pass your phone to Jack and then Miles to get their approval.

"Looks good, y/nic." Miles goes quiet for a moment. "Let's make this a show to remember, it'll probably be a while before we get to be on a stage again." You note the sad look in his green eyes and solemnly nod your head in response.

Your manager, aka another one of your mutual friends with a degree in business, hops on the crowded stage and hands you a beer.

"Thanks, Kay." After promptly taking a long gulp from the cold bottle, you give her a smile. She was the first one to suggest you guys needing a manager and she handled everything off of the stage, which you were very thankful for.

Miles motions for you to pass the bottle to him and you do so, earning a grossed out look from Jack. He wasn't much of a drinker, but what he didn't indulge in alcohol-wise he certainly made up for in dope.

"You guys got the setlist and everything?" Kay continues to take the bottle from Miles and chugs the rest of the amber liquid. After deciding nods were a good enough answer, she continued, "Hope you guys are ready because there's actually a crowd outside."

You can't hide your shocked expression and she laughs.

"How many are here for us and how many are just here for the booze?"

"That I do not know, Jack, but I guess we'll find out," she winks and walks down the wobbly stairs to the main floor.  "I'll tell Bill you guys will be ready in ten. Make it happen."

"Shall we check our sound?"

--

You could feel the sweat dripping down your brow but that didn't matter in this moment. What matters is the screams and the yells from the crowd as you finish your song.

"This next one is called Denim Dreams," Miles speaks into the mic which elicits a scream from the left side of the bar, no doubt from that girl from earlier.

You turn and watch Jack for his cue to start when he gives you a nod. You pluck out the familiar riff of the song you had written about some guy you met years ago, Miles following with the strum of his guitar, and finally Jack with a few stomps to his bass drum.

As you started singing the lyrics, making yourself sound as if you were still in love with the man you had written this song about, you didn't notice the door to the bar open. You certainly didn't notice four boys walk in and make their way to the bar, their eyes on your band the whole time. In fact, it wasn't until you finished with Miles’ solo that you spotted the members of Greta Van Fleet clapping along with the crowd and smiling at you.

[neovisioned]

♡ꜜ eddie ate dynamite﹫johnny suh

fangs - matt champion PLAYLIST

pairing : johnny x reader (f), feat. ten as johnny’s best friend and roommate and jaehyun as your college friend. 

genre : fluff, another case of smut with too much plot, pianist!johnny, guitarist!reader, college!au, neighbour!au, strangers to friends to lovers, warnings : ten being a cockblock, it’s overall really cute. heavy making out, grinding, marking, slight choking, slight thigh riding, mutual masturbation, slight panty kink and menhandling, oral, penetration. word count : +22k synopsis : where you never really tried to make friends with your neighbours. after all, most of them – if not all – are families that would not have much time to talk to a college student. you don’t mind, you’d rather spend some time with your guitar. but your new young neighbour doesn’t seem as anti-social as you are, it’s eleven past meridiem when someone airdrops a tab sheet on your computer, you play it. a/n : i got this idea while i was showering just after i ordered my electric guitar, i also felt like shit so figured writing about my ult would cheer me up.

Calm and clean streets, pretty cherry trees dotted in red, small park filled with multicolor flowers, you remember the day you moved in your neighborhood like it was yesterday. You don’t say it much, but you love everything about your district. Yes, it might be mostly – if not totally – filled with small families and couples in their thirties, and they usually don’t have much to tell you, you still love the tranquility.

No college students being obnoxiously loud, no parties every week, no gatherings of wannabe frats.

You have to say, you got lucky. The small – but convenient and comfortable – apartment you’re ranting is what you could call a “perle rare”, a gem.

After searching and searching for anything that could fit a college student and it’s budget, you found this very building, freshly built. Only fifteen minutes away from the city center, exactly seventeen minutes away from your university, you couldn’t really believe your eyes, you even thought it was a scam at first. A more than decently sized apartment at the second to last floor, elevators, almost soundproof walls, balcony, big windows facing south, you couldn’t ask for more.

Even better, the owner was a family friend, a deal that made everyone happy was quickly made and, a few days after your twenty-first birthday, you moved in.

It was a bit more than a year ago and you have to say, you quickly made yourself at home, you didn’t mind leaving alone either. Besides, you had friends over a few times a month, and your family didn’t hesitate to visit without any notice.

Ah, and, a few days after moving in, you found this very cute and cosy coffee shop down the street. Oh, how you got addicted to their éclair au chocolat and their croissant. You’re a regular there, now, and the short brunette girl at the register still makes fun of you for your pronunciation. They also make a pretty good iced vanilla coffee, one you’re drinking this very moment, hands turning cold over the transparent plastic.

“Y/N, hey ! I have something for you !”, a voice you quickly grew familiar to sings the moment your badge opens the front door to your building. Sun Sangkyu, building H7’s concierge, doesn’t even wait for the glass door to close behind you to stand up from his chair, searching for the said “something”.

He’s a balding man, you’d say he’s around sixty-something years old. He agreed to work at the desk for good money despite his age, you remember him saying he loves it, it distracts him for the day while his wife volunteers with kids in a less wealthy area. Sangkyu wears big glasses that often fall down the bridge of his nose, eyes half moons whenever he smiles with his little diastema.

“Ah-a, I know what it is !”, you match his tone almost perfectly, a smile stretching your lips. Walking a bit closer to the men’s cubicle, one he customized so much it contrasts with the minimalist style of the entrance.

Red banner for the Chinese New Year, you’re surprised he did not take it down sooner. Next to it, he has multiple drawings from the kids in the building, pictures of him, his wife and kids.

“There it is. Such a tiny box, what did you order ?”, he asks, and the middle aged men doesn’t hesitate to shake the box a little, bringing it to his ear. He’s a bit too curious for his own good, but you don’t mind, it’s funny.

“Guitar picks.”, you tell him with a laugh once he lets the cardboard box fall into your waiting hands.

At that, he frowns.

Small pout on his thin lips, his dark brown eyes shift to the left as he tried and search in his memory.

“But…What about the ones you brought last winter ?”, he asks carefully, almost like he’s scared of not recalling things well. But, after all, you were the only guitarist in the building.

“I…lost them…”, you answer after a few seconds of silence, like a child admitting they misplaced something to their father.

“Ya…”, his instinct kick in with the noise escaping his face, slightly rolling his eyes, drawing out the last letter. “Anyways, I have something else for you.”, he looks at something on the floor, probably where he left his leather bag.

“But, I didn’t or-.”

“My wife made some yesterday !”, he cuts you abruptly, wide toothy smile as he slides a paper bag. And, oh, you already know what they hold by the smell alone. Baozi, steamed stuffed buns Sangkyu’s wife can make like a real master, your mouth salivates with the thought alone.

“Oh, bless her.”, a sigh tumbles from your lips, clenching the small bag against your chest. As you open your mouth to thank him, the slight buzz of the door opening catches your attention. You notice a rather tall men pushing the door with his back, strong arms holding boxes.

“Thank you very much, Sangkyu. Have a nice day !” You conclude with a smile, nodding as the oldest returns the gesture, face already towards the unknown men.

You don’t pay much attention, quickly walking towards the elevator with your two precious items in hand. Your index taps the code and your floor number like a mechanism and, just before the metallic doors close, you catch the unknown men sighing, “One more box and we’re done, Mister Suh !” Ehm, the apartment on the second floor probably found a new owner, you think at first, the thought brushed away in a second.

The ride to your floor is a quick one, your full attention on the small box in your hand, one you’re trying to open as best as you can. But you quickly find hard to rip the thick duct tape with your left hand occupied with the wrapped food.

“Oh, fuck !”

What was meant to happen, happened. As the feminine yet weirdly robotic voice announces your floor with a “Floor number nine, floor number nine.”, you drop the small box. The cardboard hits the floor with a small sound, laying lifeless a few centimeters away from your shoes. Great, that will teach you. Leaning down, you pick the box up with a sigh, straightening your back as the grey metallic doors open in front of you, left wrist twisting to let your digits wrap around your keys. And it’s your turn to frown. Eyebrows furrowed, you take a step forward, taking your body out of the elevator before the doors close and head down again.

Boxes, boxes everywhere. Your door’s on the left, body naturally facing your apartment but your eyes can not help but look at the overwhelming amount of…stuff laying there. Probably a dozen cardboard boxes in the hallway, the door’s open to the empty apartment if it’s not for all the wrapped furniture in the entrance. Uh, so it’s not the second floor. You have to say, you’re a bit surprised. When you moved in, you remember this very apartment being owned by a middle-aged woman, the fake blonde told you about the three other places she owned and ranted all year around. Be it to travelers, students, young adults. Someone ranted it for two months at best, before moving out, you don’t even remember their faces, to be honest. You never asked why it was always empty, you just figured the area was more appealing to families that would rather buy their own place rather than rant it for god knows how much.

Well, seems like you have a new neighbor. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll introduce yourself later, once they’ll be done with moving in. Let’s be real, you’re not Bree Van de Kamp from Desperate Housewives but, you were well raised. Ah, and, you should probably tell them about your habit of playing the guitar a bit too late at night, you think as you finally take your attention off the open apartment and go for your own. Everything might be pretty well isolated, you don’t want to risk starting beef with people you barely know leaving right next to you.

Plus, who knows, maybe they’re nice.

Knife stabs the duct tape, the brown layer easily ripping under the sharp object. Comfortably sat on your bed, you quickly tear the cardboard with your hands, leaving the packaging on the floor of your bedroom, neatly leaving the small bag of picks you ordered on your white sheet.

It’s around ten and a half post meridiem when you finally get around opening your order. College life is one you knew would be busy, but seventeen years old you never knew you’d spend hours on an essay’s introduction. But thank god, you finished a good chunk of your assignment, showered, ate and now, it’s time for a bit of relaxation.

It’s sort of a ritual for you, a way to reward yourself after a productive day. You take a long shower or a good bath – it depends on the bath bombs you have in stock –, you eat a good, hot meal and get to your room for some alone time with none other than your beloved guitar.

The sun’s already set, the streets’ lights filling your bedroom. And, that’s when you notice the dim light coming from the room right on front of you. The layout of every apartment being identical, you know it’s another bedroom, few meters away from your own. It’s a bad habit you developed after your old neighbor left, you’d pull your curtains to the side and eventually took them out, they clashed with your room’s aesthetic anyways. After all, if no one was leaving there, you would let your window wide open for a bit more light.

You figure you should maybe go and find where you stacked them and get ready to struggle for an hour before eventually, putting them up again. But for now, you don’t mind, if your new neighbor actually pulls his curtains to look outside, all they will be able to see’s your light purple colored walls, paintings and pictures, your overly packed schedule stuck right on top of your desk.

You don’t let your mind wonder too much, after quickly opening the thin packaging, you let the small plastic picks fall on your bed. Medium sized, you choose the color you like the best, abstract design in red, black and white. Now that you think about it, you really don’t know where the six other ones disappeared, you even used to keep the last one in your phone case.

Digits wrap around the slender neck of your electric guitar, picking it up from the stand it rested on for a few days now, instrument easily finding its place on your lap. Ah, how you love the feeling of the smooth material under your fingertips, left hand on the body to keep it from falling as you lean forward. The Jack cable you left laying there a few days ago moved a bit, hiding under your bed but you’re quick to grab it, plugging it where it belongs. A flick of the wrist, you turn on your amplifier, turning a few settings. Now that you have neighbors, maybe you should turn the volume a bit down. Until now, you could play as loudly as you wanted thank to the building’s isolation and a few other…reasons. The men living right above you was a bit older than Sangkyu, and he had a few hearing problems, plus he didn’t mind the music at all even if he heard it a bit, when your window was opened. The women leaving right under you is in her mid-thirties, a nurse that had a working schedule you cannot wrap your head around. One thing you know, she’s never there from nine post meridiem to some ungodly hour in the morning.

You’ll talk to your new neighbors tomorrow anyways, brushing the thought off as you place the strap on your shoulder.

“Eddie ate dynamite.”, you mumble under your breath, pick plucking at the three top strings. In tune, great. “Good bye Eddie.”, the three last strings are slightly out of tune, but your quickly arrange that with a few twists. Right hand flat on the six strings, you stand up from your bed, walking to your desk with a few steps. You had left a tab sheet open on your devise before going for your bath, screen lighting up as you open it. It’s a song you practiced once a few weeks back before forgetting about it. Bold, black letters, “Fangs – Matt Champion”.

Eyes scanning the numbers, your fingers quickly find the strings without you needing to even look at your guitar’s neck. Your body follows quickly, shoulders and head moving at the rhythm, it’s a chill tune you can warm your fingers up to. It’s a moment you adore, when your entire building’s silent, fresh breeze of the early summer sneaking into your room, multicolor lights flashing in your bedroom (tiktok made you buy them). Tones and sounds of stings being pulled fill your room, it’s no hard for you to remember the notes at the end, eyes closing as you finish the song.

A good song to start on, you think before opening your eyes and…?

“What’s that ?”, you ask out loud, eyes squinting at the window that opened itself on your screen. Apparently, someone’s trying to airdrop something. It’s probably a mistake, you think at first. A weird mistake, for sure, your laptop clearly had your name on it. Your index finger’s about to decline the request before you take a look at the actual picture sent. Is that…A tab sheet ? Your eyebrows furrow a bit more. Clearly, this was not a mistake. Eye travel to the window, could it be ? Your neighbor’s room is now lit up, but you can’t make anything up in it, unconsciously waiting for a head to pop-up. But hélas, no movement comes from the other side. It could come from anyone, but you doubt

“The Less I know The Better – Tame Impala”.

Ah, you’re not a stranger to the song, you have it in multiple playlists, but you never took the time to look at the tabs. At least the person has some good taste. It’s a weird situation for sure, is this…a request ?

Unconsciously, your fingertips press on the right strings. Eh, might as well try it, right ? Tune familiar, you go through the intro easily, though maybe you should’ve taken something to loop the sound. Irises focused on your screen, you try your best not to mess up, eyes sometimes traveling from your computer to the neck of your guitar. Brown polished wood glow under the purple light, it softly transitions to blue, green, and you stop after the chorus.

Maybe you’ll keep the sheet.

Cold morning breeze, sounds of a city waking up. Birds singing a bit too loudly, a few cars driving by, chatter from families and young adults all around, voices muted by how high you’re apartment is.

You follow along, body turning in your bed, though maybe in a less graceful way, softly shaking the sleep out.

You changed your sheet right before going to sleep, after playing a few other songs, flowery fragrance comforting, nose deep into the soft fabric. You almost think about not leaving your bed but hélas, you have some classes to attend today.

At least, they’re starting a bit late. Sleepy eyes shift to your clock, the very one that woke you up, nine ante meridiem, you have an hour to get ready, that should be enough.

Another bad habit, your hand grabs your phone as you roll over to your side, cheek squished on your pillow, one eye closed. Maybe you should not do that, apparently the second eye's vision can and will go down if you do this too much. You have an appointment soon anyways, working on your computer all day long got your eyes dry.

Checking mails, social media, texts, you tour your phone before finally stepping out of bed.

Music theory class, multiple hours of it. But, at least, it didn’t end late at all, today was your only free day. But again, depends on what is your vision of freedom, you'll probably end up at the bakery slash coffee shop down the street to study a bit more.

Arms stretching above your head, your lips part in a yawn you quickly hide behind your hand. Fuck, you probably slept on your arm, shoulder aching under your fingertips massaging the muscle.

Walking around your bed, you take a few steps, dragging your feet on your floor towards your window. You needed a bit of fresh air before anything else.

The weather's pretty good today, you note as you fully step in front of your window, skin gratefully taking in the sunlight, a few white clouds here and there in the sky but nothing to complain about. The sun seems to already be heating the air up, maybe you can go for a light coat today, or a thick top alone.

Naturally, your eyes fall straight forward, to the very window you were looking at the night before.

Curtains pulled to the side, your curiosity gets poked, maybe you can have a quick look at the room, right ?

It looks empty anyways, you think at first, but it seems the universe wants to annoy you a bit today. Just as you're about to detail the room opposite to yours, a figure walks in.

His shadow is the first thing you see, stretching on the beige painted walls of the room before he eventually steps in front of his window as well.

Fortunately for your dignity, the men has his back turned but how... Broad do they look, even from a distance.

You have no idea why, but you're stuck there, one side of your brain telling you to leave before you get caught and inevitably get label as the creepy neighbor while the other whispers that you might want to see the strangers' face.

Shoulder blades move against the tanned skin, hands quickly run in his honey colored locks, pushing them back, it seems your neighbor's getting ready too.

That's when you realize your hand's still gripping your window's handle, right hand falling to your side, you really should go and get ready too but... You wonder, is he the one that sent you the tab sheet yesterday ? Wouldn't you want to put a face a the music taste ?

As you're about to take a step back, the men turns slightly, applying what you can only assume is cream to his face, digits running down his jawline as he angles his head as desired. And oh, the one second long glimpse you get at his profile is enough to make your lips part.

Shiny locks falling in front of his eyes, straight nose, full lips, sharp jawline, a curse almost falls down from your lips. You'd think anyone would find the guy attractive from the small peak you just got but... Isn't this a bit... Weird ? You suddenly feel like a whole voyeur, your eyes detaching from the stranger as your morals kick in.

He doesn't look like a father, or maybe he's very young father ? But again, you didn't see anything for a baby yesterday, nor did you hear one crying yesterday night...

Maybe he moved in here with his significant other, even though young couple usually go for the other side of the city.

Or maybe, he's a college student like you are, does he have a roommate ?

Pupils traveling up again to the window, you're about to get on your toes for a better look. Maybe you should say introduce yourself tonight, rather than guessing and throwing hypothesis out there. And maybe, just maybe, you want to get a better look at his face.

He turns around, you duck to the side.

It’s around six after meridiem when you finally, finally get up from the sit you occupied for several hours now. Maybe you should’ve taken a break between two massive paragraphs to write, you think as your arms stretch up above your head. Thank god, the beloved coffee you decided to drop your bag in had some comfortable light beige chairs, cushion as still cloud-like, exactly like you found them the first day you entered the shop.

You wonder how they keep them so clean, someone must’ve dropped their dark coffee or chocolate on the unforgiving fabric at least once, you surely fear being one of these clients.

“You done ?”, familiar voice hums, and you just nod at the question, eyes falling on the black clock right behind the counter.

“Yeah, I can’t think anymore.”, you tell your friend, hand grabbing the second cup of coffee you brough, shaking it lightly to estimate the amount of liquid left. Jaehyun, maybe your closest friend in your university, pouts at that. Dirty blonde hair fall in front of his eyes as he grounds, before he lets his forward press against his computer’s touchpad. The poor guy had been struggling for an hour now, the rhythm of his fingers tapping on his keyboard gradually loosing speed. You have to say, you were in the same situation, writing and rewriting the same sentences again, brain refusing to cooperate after already vomiting out a few large paragraphs. But, unlike your friend, you decided to stop there for the day, you still had a full week to finish it anyways.  

“I can’t do this anymore.”, the Korean grounds again, dramatic nature kicking in as his head snaps back, rolling backwards, the men cannot go a day without faking death.

“Save it, we still have a week to do it.”, you sigh out, but you don’t hide the smile growing on your face at his antics. Though, you don’t wait for his answer, saving your own file before closing your laptop.

“Six days. Six.”, he corrects, like a day changes anything anyways. See, Jaehyun needs to turn his paper in a single day before yours, since he had chosen to attend the very class twenty-four hours before you. Rolling your eyes, you know the men cannot read your facial expressions, bag turned as you drop all your belongings into your bag.

“You gonna stay ?”, you simply ask, there’s no need for you to point out the slight difference in days. Jaehyun nods fingers running on his touch pad as he zooms out his Word Documents, eyes scanning over his six pages for any underlined errors. “Well, good luck. I didn’t finish this, want it ?”, you ask, eyebrows slightly raised as you push the still fresh iced coffee towards your friend, who doesn’t need more, lips wrapping around the straw.

“Text me when you’re home.”, Jaehyun mumbles, mouth filled with tiny ice pieces, pieces he quickly swallows. “Don’t work too late, text me too.”, you finish it like you too usually do, quickly waving before you walk out of view.

“Are you done, Y/N ?”, another familiar voice calls you out, one you know pretty well by now. See, the coffee shop is getting more and more exposure as days go by, but it does not meet the owner and workers will forget about the regulars, like you. “For the day, yeah. Still have a few things to write but I should be done tomorrow or the day after.” You smile at the brunette, Hana, coffee “Flâner”’s cashier. As said, she’s a brunette with the longest locks you’ve ever seen. Or maybe she has black hair, you think it depends on the lighting. Anyways, she’s been there since the opening, working 4 days a week, greeting costumers with a smile and a light French accent whenever she spoke, thought you remember her saying she was born somewhere else.

“Ah, I hope you’ll have a good grade !”, she says cheerfully, black irises leaving your form as she places some cakes into their signature black box. “Is…Jaehyun staying ?”, the smallest asks, even behind the counter, you can’t help but notice her small, petite figure. It’s like she doesn’t dare to look at you, and a small smile stretches your lips. Oh…She doesn’t hide her crush very well. You wonder, is Jaehyun staying late for another reason as well ?

“Ah, yeah. He’s proofreading what he wrote today.”, you explain, fainting obliviousness.

“Oh, alright !”, she responds with a smile, eyes flickering from your figure to the your friend’s. You’re about to leave, let them somewhat alone if you forget about the three other costumers drinking their tea, when your eyes fall the small cakes she’s arranging behind the glass. And god, how they look tasty. You guess they’re make of a chocolate mousse, a shortbread at the bottom, your mouth salivates. As said, you’re not the Bree Van de Kamp of your building but, if you’re going to greet your new neighbors today, shouldn’t you bring something ? And no, you’re definitely not doing this because of what happened this morning, no way.

“What are these ?”, you ask, taking a step closer.

“Un royal !”, she answers in French, your eyes squint as you try to say it back. How the fuck does she do that -r sound.

“Can I have two of them ? And a croissant, please.”, you order, hand already fishing for your phone. God, this shop will make you go bankrupt, they will also make you addicted to their food, if you’re not already.

“Sure, ma’am !”, the young girl answers, before she grabs yet another black box. Fingers push the cardboard until it takes the shape desired, iron tool dropping the cakes into it. You’ve done this so many times, it’s ironic. Right hand grabs the box, left hand turning your phone screen towards the young girl so she can scan the code.

“Thank you, good bye !”

“See you soon, Y/N !”

The glass door is pushed with a shoulder, smile stretching your painted lips when you give another look inside the shop, catching Jaehyun walking up to the counter. “Buying three coffees isn’t a way to flirt, Jaehyun.”, you laugh to yourself before leaving.

It looks like the sun is about to set, sunlight a lot less aggressive compared to the beginning of the afternoon. Cakes in hand, the walk to your building is a short one, though you come across the Hwang family from the fourth floor going to the park, greeting the mother with a smile, waving lightly at the twins she’s holding hands with. Ah, you really do love this area, you think as you walk along the park’s barrier, catching a few giggles and screams from young kids. And, from the sound of it, they started opening the water in the fountains.

“Cakes again !”, Sangkyu might be on the older side, he still has some sharp eyes, you note. The door closes behind you with a small noise, the lock activating itself. “Yes, cakes again.”, you say, shooting him a fake-ly offended glare, left hand to your chest. “But these aren’t for me, they’re for the new neighbor.”, you point out, walk slowing down in front of the men’s cubicle.

“Ah ! Mister Suh and…”, his face contours as he tries his best to recollect the second name. Oh, maybe it was a couple, good thing you got two cakes, even though you got one for yourself… “Right ! His roommate, Mister Leechayapornkul !”, his features light up with a smile as he correctly – you assume – recollects the second name. Ah, a roommate, you think, interesting. “Oh, I didn’t know they were two. I’m going to introduce myself now.”, you tell him with a smile.

“Ah, by the way, have you heard ? Miss and Mister Jeon want to organize something for the building’s anniversary, I’ll keep you up to date !”

On that, you leave the old men with a smile, quickly strolling to the elevator. The metal cubicle stops at the third floor, a young girl you don’t really know polite greets you before pushing the fifth button floor, she’s probably friends with the kids on that floor.

“Floor number nine, floor number nine.”, the metal doors open on your small hallway, and for the first time, you walk towards the right door. Deep, dark green color like yours, your shoes barely make a noise on the light beige carpet as they lead you to your neighbors’ place. You stay there for a second, mind questioning the dumbest things, should you wait a bit ? How many times should you knock…? Raising your fist up, the first joints of pointer and middle finger tap a few times on the dark wood. One, two, three. You wait.

Though, everything seems silent, if it’s not for the small noise of the elevator going up and down. Are they…Not there ? A small pout on your lips, you shift on your feet, both hands grabbing onto the black box. The apartment was silent, you guessed your new neighbors were not there, your luck.

From : Jaehyun, 8:37 pm. : “im home !!” : “ended up proofreading and wrote the second to last part” The well familiar name flashes on your phone, alongside a picture you took when you visited his family on the country side. Jaehyun’s rather tall body’s folded as he tries to ride on a small tricycle, legs so long his knees are above the handlebars. Quickly, your thumbs tap on the small keyboard as you walk toward your room.

After entering your bedroom, you decided to eat a bit earlier, taking a shower before going back to your guitar. The shower was a cold one, if the sun had already set, the air was dense, heavy. Moments after stepping out of your shower, a thin layer of sweat managed to gather around your hairline. It’s like the weather suddenly switched to the middle of summer, and you definitely were not ready for it.

To : Jaehyun, 8:38 pm. : “is it because of the third coffee you bought :D ?”

To : Jaehyun, 8:40 pm. : “…i do not know what youre talking about .” To : Jaehyun, 8:40 pm. : “when are you gonna ask her ?”

You send the message before locking your phone, throwing the devise on your bed. You’re quick to set up your guitar, since you left you amp’ plugged in yesterday. Right index flicks the switch up, before you plug the Jack cable in. However, as you’re about to flop on your bed again, you notice the screen of your phone lightening up as your college friend calls you.

“How did you know ?”, it the first think he asks, tone whiny, the second you accept the call and press the speaker button. “It is very much obvious, Jaehyun.”, you laugh out, left hand finding its place around the neck of your black and white guitar as you bring it on your lap.

“Do you she’s int-.”, Jaehyun starts as you play out a few random chords, thumb stroking the six strings ever so softly. “Yes.”, you cut him before he even manages to finish his sentence. “She’s into you. I thought you knew.”

“I, uh, I wasn’t sure.”, he mumbles, and you hear his fork pick whatever his eating. After hanging out around the male for some years now, you figured your good friend was a bit clueless when it came to his looks and charms. Yes, Jaehyun knows that’s he’s handsome, you don’t miss the opportunity to remind him whenever he gets dressed up or send you a selfie, as a good and supportive friend.

But, Jaehyun doesn’t really weight the affect he has on girls, guys, and everyone in between. You remember when this guy in your Music Therapy class, and another girl, you don’t really remember what hear studies were about, but she was in your distant group circle and they both had a big – massive – you’d say, crush on your friend. You remember both of them throwing some light hints at first, thought the girl went a bit harder after as the first eventually dropped it. Jaehyun, him, was completely oblivious until you told him one night, when he was staying over after a night out. “Ask her out already !”, you sign out, left hand over your guitar’s string, blocking any sound.

“I will soon, okay ! Give me some time, I’m…Thinking about the right way to do it.”, your friend starts, drinking something in between his words. “Anyways, moving on ! How’s your neighbor ?”

You sigh at the question, opening your laptop as you search in your files for something to play, you really should organize your things a bit better, you think to yourself.

“They weren’t there.”, you breath out, eyes unconsciously flickering to the window. From this angle, you can’t really see much, apart from the vague shapes behind the curtains, yellowish light on before you even came in your room.

“They ? Oh…Is it a couple ?”, Jaehyun asks, tone slightly disappointed. See, this morning, you obviously told your friend about the airdrop…Thing. Obviously, you had texted him before going to sleep but decided to keep much of the details for a real life conversation. After a hushed story-time, eyes travelling to your teacher every now and then to make sure he was not looking at you, you told him about what happened this morning.

Of course, it immediately poked the blonde’s curiosity, who would not be. As said, you and Jaehyun had been friends for some years now. When you two met, he was in a relationship that ended a few months after, you being there for him had strengthen the bond, he had been single ever since and you, had been single all the way. Sure, you had a few crushes, two or three people shooting there shot but, the crushes were always short-lived, nothing serious.

So, when Jaehyun heard that you found someone attractive after months of radio silence of the channel of your earth, someone who lives next to you at that, your friend jumped on the occasion, already hoping for something to happen before you even got to introduce yourself to the guy.

“I don’t know, Sangkyu said they’re two roommates.”, you inform, trying to recall the two names the oldest men told you hours before.

“…Are you sure you don’t want me to stalk ?”, Jaehyun proposes for the second time today. As soon as you finished your small story this morning, the Korean asked if you wanted him to do some stalking, promising and selling his apparently, amazing, skills in the domain.

“Jaehyun, no. I didn’t even introduce myself.”, you breathe out, half-desperate, half laughing at his antics. “Alright, alright. Go see them soon, alright ?”, there’s a small silence, you simply hum at his question. “Play me something while I do the dishes.”, your friend yawns and you oblige pretty quickly, after finally finding a song to practice to. Maybe you need a little more practice on the song, one by Frank Ocean in the “channel ORANGE” album he put out in 2012, if you recall correctly. On the other line, the sound of water running and dishes being done drowns the voice of your friend slightly singing to the song, one you two have on the collective Spotify playlist you have. Your attention stays on your screen, just in case you forget a chord and, as you’re starting the second chorus, something comes between your eyes and the sheet. Your hand comes flat on your guitar strings, stopping the music at once. You already know what it is.

Jaehyun does not stop the water, but his voice does comes closer, microphone muted every now and then as you hear him struggle. “Why did you- Oh, fuck, nooo. There’s sop everywhere.” You laugh breathlessly at his whines, eyes quickly looking at the black screen of your phone, like you’d be able to see your friend. Though, you hear him wipe his screen, cloth going over his microphone again.

“There ! Why did you stop ?”, he asks, bringing his mouth a bit too close to his phone. Staying silent for a second, your finger tap on yet another Airdrop. “He sent another one.”, you simply say, a bit quietly, as if your neighbor will be able to hear you. Pupils look over at the window, you almost want to get up and walk to your window but…

Jaehyun gasps softly over the phone, “Play it, play it.”, he says as you’re scanning the sheet sent. And oh, he’s that type. It’s crazy how two songs alone help you draw a quick sketch of your neighbor’s personality, or his music taste at the very least. Unlike yesterday, you don’t hesitate and open the file sent, though you have to say you already know the chords.

“Jae’. He sent The Neighbourhood’s Daddy Issues.”, you squick into the phone after grabbing into with your right hand. Jaehyun knows well, you still love the band but had an unhealthy obsession a few years back, not to mention your massive crush on Zach Abels.

“Oh. Ooh. He’s like that.”, Jaehyun notes as well, before he presses you again to play it. Urged by your friend, you lean forward to adjust the reverb on your guitar. “That’s…Kinda hot, though.”, your friend whispers out and you, yourself, can’t comprehend the sound that comes from your lips, something between a laugh and a choked gasp.

“Jae’…What ?”

“No, but, I mean…Daddy Issues, that’s hot.”, he tries to explain himself, you quickly shut him up by running your fingers over the six strings. You don’t really need to look at the tabs, from memory, your fingers find their rightful place.

“3D, 5D, 3G, 5D, 5B, 5G.”, you say as you play the notes, humming the rest as you play the intro.

“C minor, G minor, B flat major.”, and from then, you remember the song pretty easily. Between two chords, you turn the volume on your guitar up, just to make sure your neighbor’s hearing you play.

“That’s flirting.”, concludes Jaehyun once you’re done with the song, you know him well enough to know his mouth a bit agape.

“It is not.”, you tell him, though you’re not sure yourself what this is.

“You have to talk to him like, right now.”, he urges so loudly you have to turn the volume on your phone down.

“Now ? No ! I’m in my pyjamas, and I don-.”, you start, and it’s your friend’s turn to cut you off. “’kay, okay ! Go talk to him tomorrow, please ?”

“I will, don’t worry.”, you start, but before you can continue, you’re phrase’s cut again but this time, it’s by…A piano.

Your mouth parts for a second, a single syllable falling from your lips before you close your mouth. The tune’s familiar, but you never heard in played on a piano. Your head slowly raises, eyes fixated on your window.

“Can you hear this ?”, you quietly ask Jaehyun, who answers with a soft “Yeah”, sounding as dumbfounded as you do. Slowly, you get up from your bed, leaving your guitar on your bed, that’s when you realize how hot it is. The fabric of your shirt sticks to your skin, hands lacing into your hair as your push them up in a makeshift ponytail to let your neck get some air.

It's after a few notes that you finally put your finger on it. The Weeknd's last album, “After Hour”. “Repeat after me.”, you tell Jaehyun, I single “Oh” coming from his lips as he recolls the song.So he's a musician as well, you conclude easily. You never heard anyone play this very song on the piano, you wonder if it's his own arrangement.

On the other end of the line, the blonde's silent, carefully listening to the soft piano tunes as you do the same. Few steps take you to your window again, just like you did this morning. This time, curtains are pulled to the side, enough for you to  see the same broad shoulders under a black hoodie, back straight as his head hangs down towards the keyboard.

From your spot, you can't really see his fingers, but you do see his hands quickly running over the black and whites, pressing confidently. Seeing a pianist's always mesmerising, eyes stuck on the figure, you try your best to get a better view but, what can you do from your room ?

When the song ends, unlike this morning, you don't hide behind your wall. Your neighbor doesn't move, stretching his arms above his head, fingers laced together, a curse falls down your lips.

“Y/N. Send him a sheet.”

It's around five in the afternoon when you find yourself in front of your neighbor's door, holding a black box of cakes, for the second time this week. Your classes had ended two hours earlier today and maybe, maybe you should use that time to work on your assignment but since last night, you don't think you can go another day without introducing yourself to the building's new people. Plus, you have enough time, you tell yourself.

It's ironic, isn't it ? You weren't the type to go out of your way to speak to your neighbors, most didn't have a lot in common with you but now. Now, this nameless, a bit too handsome young guy moves in and you're bringing some patisseries in front of his door.

Music brings people together, you've always thought, you've always known and this, this is a pretty good example. You're pretty sure you wouldn't have went out of your way like this if the guy didn't send you a tab sheet, if he didn't play last night.

Like yesterday, you bring your first up, knocking a bit more confidently this time, thought you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

You barely have the time to let your hand fall down to your side when a deep, voice a bit far away let's out. “Coming !”

Of course, broad shoulder guy had to have a deep voice to go along side.

“Oh, hi.”, your soul almost jumps out of your body when the deep green door abruptly opens to reveal none other than your - handsome - neighbor.

“Hi...! Uh, I'm your next door neighbor, the name's Y/N.”, you let out, maybe you should thank your past self for practicing this very line right before stepping out of your apartment.

Your right hand's stretched out in front of your for him to shake, but your attention's on something else. Deep brown eyes stare down at you, they almost make you feel small. Or maybe they're a honey brown, you wonder as the plane blocking the sun finally moves away to reflect into his eyes.

Yes, definitely honey brown eyes, the same eyes that turn a crescent shape, just like before a full. moon.

He smiles at you with the same full lips you saw from your window, hands wrapping around your own.

“Ah, yes. Johnny, nice to meet you !”, he says, hand slowly shaking your own. Finally, a name on the face. You quickly notice the slight simple in the middle of his cheek before he lets go of your hand.

“Oh, I bought some cakes from the coffee shop down the street.”, you tell Johnny, both hands one the black box.

At this, his lips turn from a smile to an - o shape, eyes round. Maybe you guessed right at the moon phase.

“You didn't have to !”, your neighbor blurs out, hands at his sides for a few seconds before they eventually accept the gift when you slightly push the box towards him. Your eyes fall to his hands for a quick second and yes, definitely some pianist hands.

“It's just a small welcome gift ! I wanted to drop them yesterday but, I think you weren't there.”, you explain, a lot, lot more relaxed, though turning your attention away from the men's hands. This isn't the moment nor the place.

“Ah yeah, me and Ten we're out for the first grocery shopping trip.”, he explains, right shoulder leaning against his door frame. You get a quick glimpse at the apartment itself, though you don't look at it too long, everything looks already set up. You remember taking a week to get everything as home-like, but you guess having a second pair of arms help.

“Ten ?”, you ask, right hand wrapping around your left upper arm. Probably the one Sangkyu was talking about the other day.

“Yeah, he's my roommate.”, Johnny answers, letting a silence settle between the two of you. “Do you want to come in ? I won't be able to eat two cakes by myself.”, the men proposes after a few seconds, pupils landing on the black box. He probably saw the two cakes thank to the transparent part of the cardboard box, at the top.

Come in ? And... Eat with him ? Suddenly, your palms grow sweaty, slightly shifting one foot to another. “Oh, but. Your roommate.”, you mumble out.

Sure, at first, you bought two cakes, one for him and one for you. Though you thought you'd eat them by yourselves, when Sangkyu told you about the second person living there, you figured you'd keep the two cakes for your two neighbors.

“He's at his parents’ house to get some things, he won't be there until the day after tomorrow.”, the brunette tells you with a smile. His body moves a bit more, enough to let you enter. “Come on, I need someone to help me eat all of this.”

How can you say no to this ?

“Wait, it ends like that ? There’s no way he does that.”, laughs Johnny, a full laugh that shakes his chest, right under his plain white t-shirt. Short sleeves rolled up to his shoulders, his body leans back, black jeans covered legs spread on his one person sofa.

“I swear he does, watch the second season !”, you interject quickly, straw mixing the iced tea in your long glass, ice cubes clashing against each other before eventually melting away.

“Yeah, I guess I will…! I never thought he’d kill her.”, you neighbor says, and he seems genuinely choked, bushy eyebrows raised.

After taking a step in his apartment, the pianist led you to the biggest sofa, where he left you for a few minutes. People say boys are bad at decorating their place, but you have to say Johnny and Ten’s apartment was already looking pretty good. Beige walls, a few black and white pictures were hung up right above the dark sofa. Wide windows on your left, your apartment has the opposite view. While you have a view towards the city center, street lights fascinating at night, Johnny has an amazing view on the park.

Large television right in front of you, you quickly notice de PlayStation 4 and switch neatly placed under it. On your right, just like your apartment, the small open kitchen, counter the only thing separating the two rooms. The honey-eyed seemed to have found his marks easily, navigating in the kitchen quickly. After taking out two plates and two small spoons, he placed the two cakes, refusing your help every time you offered it.

“Iced tea ?”, he had asked, taking out two long glasses when you agreed. Red hibiscus iced tea was poured and handed, before he sat in front of you. You do not remember well how the conversation around the series “You” started, but you recall seeing his Netflix profile on the tv screen.

“So, you live alone ?”, he asked after some seconds of silence, pillow lips wrapping around his metal straw.

“Yeah, I’ve been there for a year, I’d say.”, you start out, spoon digging into the chocolate mousse. “You’ll see, it’s lovely here.”, you tell Johnny with a smile he mirrors.

“I’m sure it is, everyone’s really nice. Especially Sangkyu.”, you laugh at that, the old men really has the power to give one memorable first impression.

“Ah, Sangkyun-.”, you laugh, “He’s something.”, you point out, yourself taking a sip of the iced tea. “Really good memory too, he made fun of me for buying two sets of guitar picks in a few months span.”

“Oh, right, the guitarist.”, Johnny smiles, placing his empty plate on his table. Pink tongue pokes out to wet his lips, your eyes shamefully follow the movement before forcing yourself to find his honey eyes again.   There it was, you didn’t know when nor how to bring the subject up, but you were thankful it happened naturally. For two people, two strangers, the conversation was going pretty well.

“Exactly ! By the way, sorry if the music’s too loud.”, you add quickly, yourself reaching towards the table to leave your empty glass. You’ll have to ask for the receipt. Johnny’s reaction is almost comical, his head shaking from left to right. “No, no ! It’s not too loud, not at all. T-That’s why I sent you a sheet, I liked it.”, he blurs he words out quickly, cute, you think.

Crossing one leg over the other, your eyes shift to the left for a quick second at the small compliment. “Thank you. You’re a good pianist.”, you return with a smile, spoon scraping the last bit of biscuit.

“Thank you very much, it means a lot. Have you been playing for long ?”, he asks, glass a quarter full left on the table. His right arm comes behind his sofa’s backrest, getting more comfortable.

“Since I was…eleven. Got an acoustic for my birthday and ended up selling it for an electric a year and a half later. What about you ?”, you explain, remembering the light brown instrument your parents got for you, you also remember it being way, way too big.

“Ah, yeah, I’ve always liked the sound of an electric guitar better. I was seven, or eight. My mother wanted me to learn and I ended up really liking it.”, he explains, fingers tapping on the sofa’s fabric.

Music brings people together, you tell yourself a second time when Johnny tells you about how her mother loves the sound of a piano, how she’d always stop next to her when he played. A kind of art that helps you learn more about a person, when he tells you his favorite songs to play and you tell him yours.

“But you do have a real pianist’s hands !”, you argue back when Johnny down plays one of your compliments, to which the brunette looks down. Crescent shaped eyes fall on his ring clapped fingers, a small smile on his lips he struggles to hide. “You noticed ?”, he asks, and you try to convince yourself his voice did not get lower.

“Well, yeah. A music student always looks at people’s hands.”, nice save, Y/N.

You learn the young men kept music as a hobby and currently studies international commerce et economics, Ten is a long, long time friend pursuing performing arts. You learn your neighbor’s not only a good looking men, brown locks falling in front of his, nose crunching up every time he finds something funny, rosy lips tugging up to reveal a row of white pearls. He’s also extremely well mannered. Soft spoken, polite, his chuckles put you in a comfort zone, the way he almost doesn’t let you help him clean the two plates a bit too cute. You find his presence entertaining.

Maybe it’s because you just met him, things to learn about him awaiting, but you don’t see the hours running by, nor does he.

It’s around ten post meridiem when Johnny insists to walk you to your door, handwritten receipt of his hibiscus iced tea in hand.

“Do you want me to st-”, Jaehyun asks over the phone for the third time in a week, or maybe for the fourth time, you lost count. Your devise rests right next to your laptop, which is propped on your desk.

“No, Jae'. I don't want you to stalk him.”, you breathe out into your microphone, fingertips tapping on your touchpad at a random rhythm. A paragraph, the conclusion, and you should be done on your essay.

“Too late. Got him !”, he almost chants out and, at that, there's a silence. Clear sign of your disappointment and your blonde friend's concentration. “Oh, wow. He's a photographer too ?”, he asks as if you can see his screen.

You hate it, you hate how your curiosity gets picked by the simple sentence. Needless to say, Jaehyun was filled in by every bit of information you got once Johnny walked you to your door, at least he waited two days before searching for your new neighbor's Instagram. Or at least you think.

“Oh wow. OH. Woah.”, your friend gasps into his microphone, your index taps aggressively on your keyboard, deleting the last sentence you wrote. He’s obviously doing it on purpose, pushing your bottoms. The blonde knows how curious you are, he’s just trying to see how long you can keep it together.

“Uh, Ja-. Show me, what did you find ?”, not very long, obviously.

“Ah, see ! Wait, I'll send you some screenshots. He's hot.”

He is, you want to answer, but would rather shut your mouth for now or you’ll never hear the end of it. Eyes finally leaving the screen of your laptop, they travel to another, finger unlocking your phone.

Your text messages with your friend enlighten your features, bubble appearing at the bottom.

“Finding him was extremely easy.”, Jaehyun points out, before a few screenshots are sent at the same time.

And indeed, you see how easy it must've been for your blonde boy. User johnnyjsuh.

He must've been pretty popular in his old schools, you think after looking at his followers.

Pictures of him in the same white shirt you saw him in days prior, pictures of him with an argentic camera, selfies, mirror selfies, outfit pictures. His feed is almost as good as Jaehyun's. And that says something.

Unlike Jaehyun, you don't have to be careful, worried you'll accidentally like one of his pictures. Shamelessly zooming on the screenshots your university friend sent you, you unconsciously pull your bottom him between your teeth.

He's cute. Too handsome it should be illegal.

“That's a lot but, yeah.”, Jaehyun giggles, you learn you don't have much of a filter between your mind and mouth. “Follow him !”

“Are you crazy ?”, you almost scream out, eyes wide at the suggestion. “He'll know we searched him up.”

Basic social media rules, you can't follow the guy when you don't even have his number, nor talked to him more than twice at this point, if him talking to you in the elevator counts.

“Alright, alright. Don't scream in my ears like that, I have earphones.”, he complains, not leaving you a second before continuing. “Y/N, don't be a coward, airdrop something.”

“I-.”, you start out, attention drown back to your computer. With one tap of your finger, you manage to hide your word document, piano sheet open behind it. You’ve searched a few sheets the day prior, downloading one before going to sleep that night, just in case.

After all, he sent you two tabs, why wouldn't you send him something ?

Tap, tap, you open the airdrop settings. You really should, hm ?

“Alright. I'm doing it.”, you finally say, more to yourself but your friend softly cheers on anyways.

“Ocean Eyes - Billie Eilish.”, from the songs he sent you, it's a fair guess your neighbor is familiar with this one too, you’d doubt he doesn’t know who Billie Eilish is.

“Johnny's IPhone”, it's a click away. One you reach, tapping on the touch pad again. Sent. There.

“Now we wait.”, you announce, leaning back .

“Tell me if anything happens, I have a call to take.”

On that, simple goodbyes are said, you promise Jaehyun you’d tell me if anything happens, he hangs up after saying good bye a second time.

Minutes go by, you don't really know how many, maybe five where you debate going back to your essay, finger frantically tapping on the Word Document icon. Before a few notes are heard.

Piano notes, fingers pressed down on white and black keys. It has the power to make you smile, lips tugging upwards, there’s obviously not a doubt who’s playing at this very moment. Even the way he plays feels confident, he's sure of himself, he knows what he's doing.

Attention for your school work long gone, your pupils naturally find your window again.

It's slightly open, the music would come in easier if it was fully pushed, you think to yourself.

Do you even have to hide anymore ? You guess not. He knows, you know, it's just music you want to enjoy, you convince yourself even though your palms are slightly warm, heart fluttering in your chest.

Leaving your phone on your desk, you quickly walk to your window, right hand in the handle pushes it towards yourself. Warm breeze enters your bedroom, in a soft gush that sends your baby hairs floating away from your face, framing your features.

The sun's just starting to set, purple hue tiger stripes on the blue sky but your eyes are on another shade of purple.

Johnny's wearing a light lilac hoodie, brown locks the only thing you can see, he hasn't moved his piano, his back facing you again.

Forearms against the window frame, you lean forward, humming at the summer sent floating in the air.

A bit too quickly, your neighbor ends the song, hands lingering on the keyboard. Finally, his right hand grabs the very phone he propped up on his piano to see the sheet you sent him, sliding it in his back pocket.

He stands up, fingers toying with a button on his instrument, probably turning some things off.

He turns around, you don't duck to the side.

The men's visibly taken back, his turn stopping mid-way, lips slightly parting for a second. Honey brown eyes find yours before his pupils travel down at your body behind your glass window. He genuinely smiles after a few seconds, eyes half crescents, full lips tugging upwards, you can almost hear his giggle.

“Hi.”, voice soft, Johnny says once he opened his own window a bit more, forearms on his frame, mirroring your own posture.

“Hey, that was very good.”, you tell him, head tilting to your left.

“Ah, thank you. I messed up somewhere in the beginning, though.”, one hand scratches the back of his neck like an embarrassed teenager, before his elbow rests on the frame, hand holding his jaw.

“Ah shoot, I'll send something easier next time.”, you tease, to which he laughs lightly, the sound airy.

“Would be easier to send it by text, wouldn't it ?”, Johnny asks, one eyebrow raised and you have to say, you took a second to understand. But when the brunette hands you his phone, pricy devise between two apartments on the ninth floor, your eyes grow wide.

Your number, he wants your number.

Probably just because you two are neighbors, you have a bunch of your neighbors’ phone number too...

And also probably because sending sheet via airdrop isn't the most convenient thing in the world. Don’t over think it, Y/N. Don’t overthink it.

Two hands grab his phone, just in case, and you struggle to remember your phone number all of a sudden.

You have to retract in your room, too scared you're going to drop the devise with your slightly trembling hands before eventually typing in your name and phone number. You don’t get why you’re so nervous, maybe it’s because Johnny didn’t stop looking at you, slightly giggling at your antics.

“Oh, by the way. I'm sorry if sending that tab sheet the first time was too much. I just couldn't resist.”, Johnny blurs out once he gets his phone back, sliding it back into his pocket. It’s his turn to look slightly nervous, hand rubbing at his shoulder.

“Ah, no, not at all ! It was fun, plus I think we might share the same music taste.”, you reassure him with a smile.

“Really ? You should send me your playlists.”, your neighbor says with an enthusiastic tone, eyes lightening up.

If Jaehyun was there, he'd tell you this was blatant flirting. Maybe you'd agree. At that very moment, you thank your past self for having a pretty organized Spotify accounts, you're one of these people with matching playlists accounts and vague names, a playlist for each feeling almost.

“Yeah, sure ! I'll send you my Spotify user !”, you immediately tell him, as keen as he is.

“Nice, and I c-.", his sentence is abruptly cut by a surprised noise falling from his lips, brown eyes looking up at the sky. He sticks out his right hand, palm up.

Rain starts pouring down.

Saturday, laundry day. It’s not a moment you particularly cherish but at least, you do not have to walk meters or kilometers to wash your clothes. Half thorn basket on your left hip, your right hand mindlessly scrolls through Johnny’s playlist, small smile on your features.

See, after the rain started pouring down, you two decided to return to your rooms in unanimity. Now that he had your number, communication was a lot, lot easier. As promised, you sent him your Spotify profile, where he followed you and you did the same.

User youngho’s listening to “The Weekend – SZA” from “late summer nights and city lights” playlist.

Your playlist.

User citylight’s listening to “Angelina – WIINSTON” from “yellow” playlist. His playlist.

Blatant flirting, Jaehyun would say.

Johnny has his playlist organized by colors, a simple theme you quite like. You have to say, you like all of them but, you had to follow his “purple”, “blue” and “yellow” playlist, where your neighbor managed to capture the color’s feeling. However, after a few days, the “red” playlist sat untouched. You didn’t dare. For having a similar playlist Johnny was actually shamelessly listening to, you knew exactly what the “red” playlist held.  

To : Johnny, 1:25 pm. : “how does angelina only has 40k view on youtube !!”

You quickly type on your keyboard, right after saving the said song to your likes. Finding new artist and finding new song’s always fun, especially when Johnny’s as invested as you are. He’d send you his thoughts on some songs, and you quickly learned the brunette was musically more intelligent than some people in your course.

From : Johnny, 1:27 pm. : “I honestly don’t know….” : “It’s such a catchy song too like”

Double text. Fuck, Jaehyun really got into your brain, didn’t he ? The notification bar slides down for a few seconds, enough for you to read his texts. At the same time, the metallic doors of your elevator open up to the lobby. Leaving your devise in your basket of dirty clothes, you figure you’d answer in a few minutes, once you’re done with your laundry.

“Good afternoon, Sangkyu !”, you call out the the older men before he manages to see you. It’s a fun thing you like to do, catching him off guard whenever you can. Turning his face towards you, the bold men vigorously waves.

“Y/N ! Hello !”

You don’t stop by his cubicle, rather turn to your left right before. There’s built the building’s laundry unit, you thank the architect every week for this. You do pay a little for it every month but again, it’s better than having to walk for minutes with a basket of heavy fabric. Four small machines and four bigger, it’s enough for everyone in the building. It’s also where some announcements are tapped, probably because people usually sit around the laundry room waiting for their clothes.

You’re probably going to watch an episode of Chambers while your clothes watch, you think to yourself as you open the door. It seems the universe has some other plans for you.

By now, it’s almost comical how easily you recognize Johnny’s back. Brown t-shirt on his broad shoulders, his head bob to a rhythm you can’t hear. He’s dropping his wet clothes in the machine to dry them, face turning towards the noise as you close the heavy door behind you.

“Oh, Y/N, hey !”, his smile is heard through his voice, right hand taking his earphones one. Johnny places his Airpods in their case, one you quickly notice is Marvel themed.

“Hey, Johnny.”, you wave with a hand, taking your earphones off as well.

“I was just listening to your playlist.”, the brunette says, shaking his earphones in his hand. You laugh at that, leaving your basket on the table. You assume the second basket there is Johnny’s. “Same !”

There’s a comfortable silence, the brunette pushes a few buttons on the machine and his clothes are sent for a cycle. You, yourself, drop your clothes in the washing machine after setting your phone on the brown table. You’re about to turn around and sit down, but you’re abruptly blocked by a tall figure, accidently bumping into Johnny’s chest.

“Oh, sorry.”, he breathes out, you hear him place another basket on his machine, right hand on your shoulder as if his chest did anything more than surprise you. “No worries…How many clothes do you have ?”, you ask with a laugh, not meaning to sound rude. But your neighbor’s dumping a second whole basket into the machine right next to you.

“Ah, Ten. He needs an entire outfit every day. Sometimes he even changes in the middle of the day.”, the machine quietly starts after the blue liquid is poured, Johnny leans against it. You’ve never seen your neighbor so up close, how is his face so symmetrical ? Slender eyes curling inwards, short little lashes batting a few times.

“Y/N ?”, fuck. His lips sure were moving and you didn’t register anything at all, you probably look dumb.

“I’m sorry, wh- what did you say ?”, clearing your throat, your eyes travel down to the machine, looking at the settings like you forgot to turn something on.

“I found your guitar picks. I mean, I assumed they’re yours.”, he says again, but he doesn’t hide the wide smile on his lips. You probably look dumb, really dumb. Right hand fishes into his back open, before he presents what indeed is one of your guitar picks, the light blue one. He holds it between his thumb and index, you notice he does so the right way, maybe he plays guitar.

“Oh, yeah. That’s definitely mine. Where did you find it…?”, you half ask, already knowing the possible answer. His palm opens to reveal not one, but two other picks of different colors.

“Washing machine.”, he says simply.

You learn Johnny uses a detergent that smells like vanilla and some flower blossom you can not distinguish, but the smell sure is comforting. It floats in the air as he folds his clothes next to you while doing a very detailed report on The Weeknd’s new album.

“But he’s right, though. “Repeat after me” is just a song where he brainwashes her but it’s so good.”, you tell Johnny while you take care of your wet clothes.

“His storytelling skills just keep getting better.”, he approves while popping a candy in his mouth. “Want some ?”

“Oh yeah, thanks !”, dropping the small chocolate in your hand, both your attentions are caught by the sound of the door opening. A lady in her mid-thirties enters the room, dyed red hair stopping at her shoulders.

“Miss Jeon, hi !”, you great the lady with a smile, one she easily returns. For the entire year you’ve been there, you don’t think you ever saw her without one tugging her lips.

“Hey, kids !”

Ah, yes. Miss Jeon also insists on calling everyone slightly younger than her “kid”. You don’t mind, though. You notice the rolled up paper in her right hand as she takes the hairband out.

“Doing laundry, eh ?”, she starts out, “Ah, it’s a great thing you two are here. Me and my husband are organizing a little gathering for the building’s anniversary.”

Right, Sangkyu told you about it, you remember. You hear Johnny hum behind you, to what Miss Jeon continues.

“It’ll be Saturday in two weeks ! Johnny, you and your roommate could come and get to know everyone a bit better, yeah ? Though I see you’ve already made friends with our Y/N.” Oh no, there she goes. You love the Jeons, but they’re so, so talkative, and they never know when to stop. They’re like parents taking your old embarrassing pictures out when your friends are over. Your eyes grow wide, a slightly embarrassed chuckle coming out of your lips.

The lady struggles to unwrap the paper, to which Johnny leaves the shirt he was folding to help her out.

“Ah, thank you. You know, Y/N isn’t really that talkative, but I think it’s because we didn’t share a lot in common, and we’re not as young and handsome as you.”

God. Stuck on your chair, wide eyes look at the scene as your neighbor chuckles. “Oh, really ?”, he urges her to continue to your misbelief,  but you quickly understands he’s doing it on purpose, crescent eyes sparkling with amusement as he looks over at you, the young and handsome bit wasn’t necessary but it sure did boost his ego.

Miss Jeon finally unfolds the paper, a big announcement on the anniversary gathering she’s holding. In the park, with the date and hour, you guess you should find an appropriate dress for the event and something to eat to bring.

“Anyways, it’s great having new faces ! You’ll come, right ?”, sticking he paper to the wall, the lady claps her hands, a little joyful jump when Johnny nods.

“Yeah. We’ll go together, yeah ?”

You learn Johnny isn’t only a good looking guy, he’s also a really good friend.

The friendship grows easily, after Miss Jeon left, he helps you out with your clothes while already planning what to bring for the gathering. The brunette tells you he’s better at cooking salty dishes than sugary cakes. You agree on that, it’s one of the many reasons why you buy anything sugary at the coffee shop down the street. Nonetheless, you and your new neighbor decide to challenge yourselves, you propose some French crepes and Johnny agrees on using his kitchen for it, with the help of Ten who’ll surely be here. Surely, the kids living in the buildings would love them and, they aren’t that hard to make.

You two walked to your apartment floor, basket in hand, though Johnny’s ability to carry two at the same time is rather impressive. One on top of the other, you try to be as discreet as possible when your eyes travel down to his arms, flexing, to his ring clapped fingers, gripping at the handles. He doesn’t walk you to your door but, is it really necessary ?

It’s funny how the universe seems so willing to put him on your path.

Every now and then, you catch a glimpse of the men through your window, walking in his room, mindlessly walking back and forth when he’s thinking about a composition, pen taking on his full bottom lip. He seems really concentrated whenever he tries to write something, eyebrows furrowed, whispering quietly to himself. He catches you carelessly dancing to songs late at night under your lights, moving like nobody’s watching, hands in the air as the singer’s angelic voice seems to control your body, silently giggling when you catch his eyes and abruptly stop.

He seems to vaguely have the same schedule as you do, you see him getting ready some days of the weeks, applying cream on his face like the first time you ever caught a glimpse at his sharp features at a distance. And you bump into him in the elevator every other day, both so exhausted with your classes, heavy backpack carelessly throws over your shoulders, so tired you two would rather smile and stay silent in the metal cubicle. You see him with his roommate a few times too, the first time happens to be right in front of their door, both of them carrying two bags of groceries.

Finally, you’re introduced to Ten, a much smaller and a bit thinner guy, though you quickly find out his personality might be as big as Johnny himself. His bright smile and laugh are both extremely contagious, and you also notice for yourself how much he cares about his appearance. Just like Johnny told you when you first saw him in the laundry unit, he wears different outfits like he’s going for a runway every day. Sharp eyes covered under his jet black hair, you can’t help but notice the multiple piercings on his ears.

Funny enough, you catch your new friend at the “Flâner” coffee shop, getting the exact same cake you brought him and some dark coffee, he tells you he got addicted to everything they do but regret not having enough time to sit down and study here.

On top of that, he never stops texting you, you never stop texting him. Conversation flows easily to the point where you sometimes have to pause to type out a response while you’re on the phone with Jaehyun.

Ah, your dear friend Jaehyun. Your blonde friend follows the events like a drama, though you tell him multiple times that “Nothing will happen, we’re just neighbors.”

Are you, though ? You don’t know if neighbors send each other sheet, you and Johnny never stopped, it became easier with his number. You don’t know if neighbors talk to each other by the windows, for so long it leaves marks on both your arms at the end of the night, red dent on your skin. You don’t know if normal neighbors talk to each other that much.

You and Johnny tip toe on the lines between neighbors and friends, the line between friends and…a little more ? The line snaps right before the building’s anniversary.

Thursday, one in the afternoon when the metal doors of your elevator open to your hallway. The sun’s shining, birds singing, your teacher’s car broke down, leaving you with a free day. Truly, the universe was on your side, you thought when you got the text from your classmate. After texting Jaehyun who told you he already went to the mall at your opposite, you decided to use that time to buy some curtains and take a day off your studies. A well deserved day off, you might add.

After searching again and again, you thought it’d be better to get new ones. You remember the old ones got dirty anyways. Plus, it’s not like you want to hide yourself from Johnny, he has some and you figure you should too for some privacy every now and then. A pack of clear curtains in your hands and some cushions in a bag for your living room, you step out of the metal cubicle, only to be greeted by a Johnny standing right in front of your door. Attention caught by the sound, your friend turns around, half expecting to see you and, he looks slightly flustered ? Short eyelashes bat a few times, rosy cheeks as he opens his month just to close it right after.

“Hey, Johnny ?”, you start, completely clueless at first, you don’t notice the white fabric he has in his hand. “Do you need something ?”, you ask, setting down all the new things you bought down, alongside your bag as you fish for your keys inside.

“I-uh…”, he starts. Why is his voice so shaky ? Eyebrows slightly raised, a knee down, you look up at your friend with a curious look. At that, the brunette looks away. Honey eyes diverge to his right as he shifts his body from left to right.

“Johnny ?”, keys in hand, you rise to your feet, slightly turning away to open your door, struggling a little at the last lock.

“We uh, got some clothes mixed up.”, he tells you, pink hue on his cheeks. You take a few seconds to understand, before recalling the meeting in the laundry unit.

“Oh ! I didn’t even notice anything missing.”, you tell him with a laugh, before your smile wavers to a more…stunned expression. The white fabric he’s holding in a hand, you only need a second look to distinguish the lace waistline you know too well. Your panties. He’s holding your panties. God, you didn’t even notice ? You wear these often, you don’t have that much panties. “Oh.”, you say again, with a much different tone. Heat washes over your body, a much deeper shade of pink coloring your cheeks.

Lips dry, you extend your hand down, almost timid to hold your own piece of clothing.

Johnny stays quiet, handing you the white underwear, hand hiding in his pocket right after.

“Erhm, thank you.”, you mumble out, hiding the fabric behind the pack of clear curtains, like he did not have the time to look at it before.

“I’m sorry, I found them in my shirts this morning and I first thought about just leaving them at your door but it would’ve been even more awkward.”, he laughs slightly, hand rubbing at the back of his nape again. You laugh lightly at that, it sure would’ve been even weirder to find your panties in a box in front of your door. Creepier too.

“Would’ve been very Joe-like.”, you tell him with a smile, the atmosphere immediately a lot less tense. You’re thankful for it, it’s clear Johnny didn’t want things to be…weird either. He laughs a little, cheeks high, before noticing your new purchase, especially your curtains.

“Oh, redecorating a bit ?”, his arms cross in front of him, biceps building up, stretching the sleeves of his shirt. “Ah, a little. I just needed new curtains, I forgot where I stored the old ones.”, you tell him, shoulder leaning again your door. “Putting them on was a nightmare.”, you sigh a little, head resting on your door as well. When you first moved in, you had to put the curtains all alone and only remember the ache in your neck and arms.

“…Was it ?”, he asks with a sly smile, eyebrows lightly furrowed like he’s questioning your experience.

“Some of us aren’t blessing with your height, Johnny.”, you tell him with a fakely annoyed glare, “I almost fell down and broke my back.”. You dramatize with a pout on your lip, to which Johnny only smirks lightly.

“Need some help ?”, Johnny finally, head tilting to the side. “I don’t want you breaking your back.” Yet, Johnny thinks.

“Ah, please !”, no need for him to propose a second time, you’d take anyone to help you with these demons any day, let alone someone like Johnny. One hand turns your door handle, proceeding to push it with your body. “Welcome to my humble home.”

Johnny lightly chuckles at your antics, curious eyes scanning over your apartment. It’s always weird to see an apartment so similar to yours yet so different, he hums at the sent of the light incense you blow out right before leaving. Sliding your shoes off, your friend follows quickly after, though he takes them with one hand to neatly store them right next to your door.

“It’s really pretty.”, he hums behind you as you walk towards your living room, letting the back full of cushions on your table. Smiling brightly as his compliment, you have to say you were pretty proud of your decorating skills. You took multiple months to pile everything you wanted up and, after a year, all your plants grew green and luscious.

“Thank you very much !”, hands gathering your hair, you quickly attach them with a hairband you always have on your wrist. “Do you want something to drink ?”

“Hm, maybe later ! Let’s start with these nightmare curtains first.”

“Alright, let me just get the stool.”, and on that, you take a second to remember exactly where you stored it before quickly jogging to the small closet near your entrance door. You don’t remember the last time you used it, you take a few seconds to take the cold iron object out of its hiding place, one foot stuck in a random box you still have there. You finally pull the object with a sharp tug and not without a small sound of struggle. Johnny is quick to grab into the heavy object and lets you take care of the pack you just bought. For the few seconds you take to move from your living room to your bedroom, you pray you didn’t leave anything too embarrassing there, you really didn’t think you’d have Johnny over today. But thankfully, when you open your bedroom door, the only think you left on your bed’s your pyjamas or rather, shirt you sleep in you didn’t fold the morning.

“So that’s the room.”, Johnny notices softly, the very room he seems fragments of from his own. Curious eyes look over your desk and the multiple things you sticked right above it, before they travel to the side he definitely never saw from his window. Denty fingers gaze at your guitar’s neck like he’s afraid of touching it without your permission, though it’s definitely clear you don not mind.

“It is ! Is it weird seeing it entirely ?”,  you joke a bit around as you sit the pack down on your desk. Scissors you leave on your desk are used to cleanly open the transparent protection as Johnny opens the stool and places it where he desires. “Really weird, I’m used to…this.”, he jokes too, thumbs and pointers digits forming a frame in front of his eyes. “And that’s what you see. My room looks so empty from here.”, Johnny notes, leaning a little in front of your window.

“It looks like you only have a bed and a piano in there.”, you tease him.

“I don’t ! I spent two entire days decorating it ! I’ll show you next time.”, he promises and somehow, it has the power to make your lips part a little, heat slightly burning your cheeks. The brunette doesn’t notice though, and immediately starts helping you out with your curtains.

Or rather, you help him. Johnny does most of the work on your curtains and you won’t complain. The men takes things into his hands, stepping onto the stool. Where you needed to climb the four steps, Johnny barely needs to climb two, body barely needing the extra height. His hands work quickly to detach the metal bar on each side, fingers twisting at the sides. When the black bar is finally off, he hands it to you so you can work on the hoops and slide the curtains in, which you do quickly.

As easily as he took it out, Johnny slides the metal bar back in before screwing each side in. From this angle, his jaw looks even more sharp, eyes focused never leave his work. He looks even more intimidating, especially when his eyes look down at you and you have to dodge eye contact. “Much easier like that.”, you say, almost dumbfounded at how easily he just did…that. Johnny laughs with the breathy giggle you’re starting to get used to. “See, only took a few minutes at best.”, Johnny says while stepping off the stool, hand lightly touching the curtains.

“Wait, let me throw this away.”, you mumble out, picking the packaging in your hands. Again, Johnny isn’t slow to follow, telling you he’ll help you with your stool. The young men follows you quickly, easily finding the small closet you store anything and everything in once you point it with your index. From your small kitchen, the sound of the stool being pushed inside and the door closing is followed by Johnny’s joyful “Done !”.

“What do you want to drink ?”, you finally ask when the brunette sits down right in front of your kitchen counter. Elbows on the cold grey material, he stares for way too long at the two choices you offer him. Tropical juice in your right hand, still unopened bottle of some bubbly beverage in the other, your friend acts like it’s a life or death decision. “C’mon ooon.”, you laugh out, arms getting tired at the way you’re holding the heavy bottles.

Finally, the brunette points your right hand with an index.

“Oh, you’re a slytherin ?”, he asks when you open your cupboard. Glasses on the bottom and mugs at the top, you look up at the same exact mug he noticed. Right in the middle, the grey and green logo is a clear statement on your Hogwarts house.

“Yes, a very proud slytherin.”, you tell him while setting the two tall glasses on the counter, pouring equal amounts of juice into them. “Let me guess, Gryffindor ?”, you ask, arching an eyebrow.

“I actually never took the test.”, Johnny says, to which you dramatically gasp. “And I never watched the movies. One of my friend’s just a really proud slytherin as well, I bought so many slytherin themed gifts that I just can recognize the logo right away.”

Double gasp, you set your glass down, eyes growing wide as you’re trying to judge if he’s actually joking or not. You found he definitely isn’t, but he does find your reaction quite funny. His laughs resonates into his glass, liquid half drowned.

“Are you for real ?”, you ask him just to make sure, and your neighbor just nods.

“A hundred percent, I just never really had the chance to watch it.”, poking his tongue out, pink muscle collects the drop of juice threatening to fall down.

“In 2020 ?”, you’re dumbfounded, you never thought someone could actually go so long without watching it. “You have to watch it.”

“I will. One day. Maybe.”, Johnny teases, eyes falsely rolling back.

“Now.”, you tell him, a certain sense of urgency in your voice. “I won’t let you get out of my house uneducated, young sir.”, you tell him before looking through another cupboard, hand pushing some unopened chips bag and opened for too long biscuits. Finally, your hand find the flat package you were looking for, proudly taking out for Johnny to say right after checking for the expiration date. “I have popcorn.”

How can Johnny refuse ? How can he, who he has to say, already has a soft spot for you, say no to such a proposition ? Not when your clutching the said uncooked popcorn bag against your chest, slight pout he’d probably kiss away on your lips. Wait, what. Johnny understands he’s utterly fucked once he agrees after a very short time thinking, he’s fucked because he knows the more time he spends with you, the more he’s probably going to fall. You, on the other hand, only understand what you did once Johnny comfortably takes place on your coach. You’re unaware of it, but you have the same exact soft spot, the same small butterflies whenever music is heard from the other’s bedroom, the same tiny smile creeping up whenever one sends a song recommendation, the same tingly feeling in the middle of your chest whenever one catches a glimpse of the other.

Another thing the two of you have in common, you two have some impressive actor abilities, if Johnny acts cool and unbothered, totally not lowkey stressed and watched over by adrenaline at this very moment, you can do the exact same.

Has his thighs always been so…Muscular ? Firm ? Your eyes quickly move away when you catch the train of your thoughts, looking into your bowl like it’s most interesting thing ever as you pour down the hot popcorn. Picking one up, you pop in into your mouth, unconsciously trying to distract your thoughts. This brand’s popcorn really good, right amount of caramel on each piece, you wonder what hickeys look like on Johnny’s caramel skin.

Fuck, bravo. Way to go. It’s his jeans, you blame it on his jeans and how they seem to perfectly hug his legs as he spreads them on your coach, one arm right behind it as he scrolls on his phone with the other.

If the brunette’s thumb is scrolling ever so slowly on his twitter timeline, his mind isn’t really able to read the small tweets at this very moment, not when you set the bowl full of popcorn down on the table before dropping on your knees in front of your tv. Why does he have to see everything in such a way, Johnny quickly blinks and tries to get his attention back on his phone but what can he do when you’re right in the background, in the peripherical vision.

He sees you looking for the movie in the pile of CDs and games you have, before finally finding the very first Harry Potter, a triumphant “Ah-ha !”, coming out of your lips.

“You’ll love it.”, you tell Johnny once you place the CD in the CD player, something you haven’t done in actual months, seating down right next to him. You’re some what grateful you only own one single sofa that’s enough for two people and a bowl full of popcorn right in between.

“Wait, is that how Cedric dies ?”, Johnny’s mouth hangs open at the young actor laying seemingly lifeless on the grass after a fatal spell, a gag sound coming out of your friend’s lips when Voldemort’s bare feet comes in contact with the Hufflepuf’s face. “I hate this shot.”, you tell him, slightly disgusted at the scene, before you yawn loudly against your hand. The glass you refilled many time is now empty, you leave it right next to the empty pizza box Johnny insisted on buying.

It’s midnight, you can barely process the hour it is, not how long you stayed by Johnny’s side to the point where you’re curled up next to him under the blanket you two are sharing. At the end of the first movie, you were happy to see a pretty speechless and invested Johnny, it was still pretty early, around four and a half in the afternoon and you both agreed to watch the second. At the end of the second, he offered to buy pizza and something to drink while you popped the third movie. Let’s just say Johnny got a bit excited when you said the four movie was your favorite and midnight being still a bit early for two students, you agreed on watching a last one.

“So, what do you think ?”, you ask once the credits starts rolling, lazy smile stretching your features. Your tall friend flops off the coach, letting his body slowly fall on the ground to grab his phone charging. “This one’s definitely the best, I mean, the whole Marauders thing ? Love it.”, he tells you, head resting on the sofa you’re still on. “I wanna know what my house is now.”, he mumbles while unlocking his phone, searching the right quizz.

“Wait, wait. Let me read the questions !”, you tell him, hand stretching to get his phone, and the brunette gives it to you without hesitation. You, who took the exact same official test four times, are familiar with questions and ask them one by one. Day or night, forest or beach side, Johnny thinks about his answers before. Familiar animation before the sorting hat reveals his pick, you hide the phone with a hand. “Guess.”, you tell him after looking at the result, results you would’ve easily guessed.

“Gryffindor ?”, he asks with a slight bit of doubt in his voice.

“Gryffindor !”, you tell him with a dramatic shout, mimic the sorting hat’s. His head rolls back with a grown, eyes screwed shut even though he has a smile stretching his full lips.

“Ah-! I lowkey wanted to be a Slytherin.”, he tells you, big puppy like eyes looking at you from below.

“Oh, really ?”, you ask, slightly surprised. You had to say Johnny was more of a Gryffindor than a Slytherin.

“Yeah, I wanted us to match.”

Full lips out in a pout, it’s your turn to think about kissing it away.

You understand you’re fucked when Johnny helps you out in cleaning your living room, washing your glasses while you dry your plates and bowl. He understands he’s fucked again when you hum a song he’s familiar with but can’t put his finger on the name. You both are fucked when he slides right behind you to set your glasses in your cupboard, chest brushing against your back. It feels strangely domestic, comfortable and…Normal ? A soft “Be careful”, comes out of his mouth and his breath moves a few pieces of your hair, arms stretching up to carefully place the glasses he just washed. It’s your turn to walk him to his door, where you two understand Ten’s already fast asleep, loud snores coming out of one of the rooms.

How strange it is, people say time alters in airports, empty trains stations and others. Time alters in front of Johnny’s door. He leans against his door frame like the first time you two met, lazy eyes looking down at you as you stretch a bit more.

“It was fun.”, he tells you quietly, tired smile stretching your lips. You return it, sighing as your muscle wake up.

“Yeah, glad I got you into Harry Potter.”, you tease him a bit, “Might have to buy you some Gryffindor themed things.”

“Ten’s gonna lose it when he learns he wasn’t the one to get me to watch it.”, you frown at that, head tilting to the side.

“Wait, he tried ?”

“Yeah, but he never sold it like you did.”, he hums and for a moment, it seems his mind isn’t really where his words are. Honey eyes drop for a quick second to your lips, but he regains his thoughts as quickly.

“Oh, he’s gonna kill me, isn’t he ?”, you joke a bit, though you’re surprised you managed to get Johnny into the saga quickly when he told you before that him and Ten knew each other for years. The brunette’s laugh is breathy, controlled so he doesn’t wake up his roommate who’ll probably kill him right before killing you. “If he finds out, totally. We don’t have to tell him, though.”, and, did his voice just drop even lower ? You didn’t think it was possible, the man’s voice is already deep but right now, in the dead of the night, it almost seems sultry.

“Oh wow, having our secrets already ?”, you breath out, biting a laugh down on your bottom lip. It does it for Johnny, his attention was already on them right before but, his slightly clouded mind could not really help himself. He doesn’t take his eyes away, not even when your mouth slightly parts at the realization. Only then do you wonder if it is mutual, your breath alters for a second, just when the taller let’s a simple “Yeah” tumble from his lips.

He leans down, or at least, you think he does. A millimeter, maybe you dreamt it, maybe he was going to hug you, a millisecond, a third voice gets heard from the deeps of the apartment.

“Johnny ? Turn the fucking light off.”

“Y/N-ah, Y/N !”, Sangkyu sings the moment you step foot in your building with your grocery bag. You guess quickly it’s because of tomorrow’s gathering, the old men always loved a reason to party, with moderation obviously.

“Hi ! You seem particularly happy today.”, you tell him, stopping in front of his cubicle, you notice he added another drawing to his wall, probably the kids on the first floor.

“I am ! We finished making the cakes a few hours ago and they are de-li-cious.”, his eyes disappear as he smiles brightly, you decided you love this man with all your being.

“Ah, I can’t wait to taste them !”, you hum, switch your bag from your left hand to your right. Even without knowing what him and his wife did, you can at least guess without a doubt that it is going to be as delicious as he says it is.

“Just a day ! What are you making ?”

“French crêpes !”, you tell him while lifting your bag, proud smile at your pronunciation, you just went and bought some milk and flour for it right after leaving your university, Johnny told you he had everything else.

“Ah, yes, with our new neighbors, hm ?”, he starts, smile turning vicious and oh, you know where he’s going. You wonder if Jaehyun and him are working hand in hand. Let’s just say Jaehyun did not drop the subject, not when he learned you accidently ignored his texts the other night because of a movie night with the brunette. Not when you told him you think Johnny almost kissed you. Or hugged you.

“Yes.”, you tell him simply, not going any further. You hope he will drop the subject, but you know he probably won’t.

“We hear you two playing, but you should both play something together.”, Sangkyu tells you, not taking the hint or maybe, he decided to ignore it. But he is not wrong, you two should play something together. You have to say, you didn’t know your playing was so loud but if no one ever complained, it was a good thing, right ?

“We should.”, you tell him with a smile, ready to go towards the elevator, his voice stops you a second time.

“Do you like him ?”, he suddenly asks. God, he really is acting like a father who also wants to be a friend. You suddenly stop right in your track, hand turning towards the oldest.

“Who ?”, you ask dumbly, but Sangkyu isn’t one to take your fake attitude.

“Johnny.”, he tells you straight forward and a bit too loudly, arms leaning against his counter with a too happy smile.

“Sangkyun…”, you whine, quiet in case anyone walks in.

“Y/N-ah…!”, he mocks the tone of your voice and you whine even more.

“Come on, you can tell me.”, you says, you know he won’t ever let you go and even if he does, he’ll draw his own flowed conclusions, better tell him already.

“Maybe, yes.”, you tell the oldest before walking a bit too quickly towards your elevator, index jamming into the up button.

“I knew it !” and, when you hide yourself in the metal cubicle, you see your old friend making a few happy dance moves with his arms, you wonder if you’re seeing Jaehyun in the future.

“Alright, how’s this ?”, you ask Jaehyun after stepping right in front of your phone. You’re actually video chatting with your blonde friend, but you can barely see half of his face, he decided to hold his phone so close you could only see from his hairline to the bridge of his nose.

“Turn around.”, he says, breath overloading his device’s microphone. You do so anyways, showing him the outfit you decided to wear for tonight. Obviously, it was just a small gathering between neighbors, you didn’t have to go all in with a cocktail dress but, a nice and pretty one was expected. Following your friend’s order, you turn to show off a black, thin strapped, body hugging dress you got a year ago and yet, never wore.

“Is that your mom’s jacket ?”, Jaehyun asks, chewing on what you think is a handful of chips. You hum at the question, you’re indeed wearing the oversized jean jacket you mother used to wear when she was in college. “The dress looks hot, when did you buy it ?”

“Eh, last year ? Around the middle of the summer.”, you tell your friend, stepping out of your phone’s camera to search for your earrings. “Wait, you never wore it, right ?” “Nope.”, from a distance, you can hear Jaehyun mumbling something about you having too many clothes. Maybe he’s right, but you brush the remark anyways, taking your rings.

“How’s my makeup ?”, you ask, kneeling in front of your phone, you step closer to let the blonde have a closer look at your eyes makeup. “You know I don’t know shit about makeup !”, he complains, finally letting you see his face as he moves his phone. “Jaehyun, does it look good ?”, you ask him, acting annoyed at his antics.

“Yes, you look good.”, he says, voice somewhat a high pitched tone as he snaps a picture once you stand up again. “If lover boy doesn’t kiss you tonight.” Small smile stretches your lips at the compliment, you decide to brush the second sentence off, applying some lipstick before checking your watch.

“And you’re telling me he acted like nothing happened ?”, Jaehyun asks, sound of the chips bag covering his voice. You sigh at that, eyes rolling a little, you think no matter how many times you’ll tell him, he’ll keep asking. “He did. I mean, his roommate was there so, he couldn’t really…Y’know ?”

A quick glance at the bag you’re supposed to bring down to the gathering starting in fifteen minutes, it holds the dozens of crêpes you, Johnny and Ten made a bit earlier. Just like it was planned before hand, you showed up after class to their apartment, Ten was the one who opened the door. Apparently, Johnny was a bit late, his teacher’s lecture went on for a bit longer than anticipated and when he showed up, he immediately helped with the batter. The brunette greeted you like he usually would and acted like nothing happened the night before, though you don’t blame him, not when his roommate was between the two of you half of the time. You had to bring your own pan after realizing how many crêpes you’d actually make and, after about two hours, you left to get ready. Let’s just say Jaehyun was not happy with the lack of exciting events. You weren’t either, but you still somehow hoped something would happen tonight, somewhere deep in your thoughts. However, you didn’t want to think too much about it, tonight was a gathering to celebrate and have fun, you didn’t want to overthink what happened the night prior.

“Anyways, I have to go.”, you finally tell you friend, who simply tells you to enjoy yourself and text him after before hanging up.

Heavy bag of crêpes in your hand, you slide out of your apartment after spraying some perfume on your neck. Locking your door, your neighbors are quick to follow as you agreed to go together and, fuck.

He looks hot, Johnny looks hot. There’s a slight second where you stay silent and take in his figure, legs hugged by a tight pair of black jeans, cotton white blouse slightly open on his caramel chest, the golden hour isn’t even here and yet, the slight bit of sun hitting his skin makes him glow. You know, you know he caught you staring and yet he stays silent, slight smirk tugging a side of his full lips.

“Y/N, Ma’am !”, Ten’s voice drags you out of you reverie. The men takes a step closer, you notice the very pricy Yves Saint Laurent grey and white top he’s wearing. “You look fucking good ! Right ?”, it seemed the men only needed a few hours to get familiar with you, but you don’t complain and smile at the compliment.

“You do, you look amazing.”, if Ten managed to make you smile brightly at his antics, Johnny’s low voice only makes you blush and your eyes waver a bit, not knowing where to look, almost unable to keep eye contact with the tallest. “Thank you. I-, hm, you too.”

Great.

“Thank you. Let’s get going, I don’t want to be late.”, thankfully, he doesn’t say more, hand grabbing onto his own bag where you assume he has the chocolate and strawberry spread.

“Wait, what about me ?”, his roommate asks, acting so offended you wonder if he isn’t actually hurt by the lack of compliment you and his roommate showed. The smallest frowns, angry glare at Johnny who doesn’t even notice him as he went towards the elevator to call for the metal box.

“This shirt looks amazing on you, very pricy too.”, you tell your neighbor with a laugh, stepping right behind the tallest, waiting.

“And I already told you it looked good.”, he says, right before stepping in the elevator.

“Thank you, Y/N.”, the black haired says your name a bit louder, but you don’t pay too much attention either.

Poor thing, if you and Johnny aren’t aware yet of the tension, Ten sure is, and he hates every bit of it when he understands, stuck in an elevator where he’s the third wheel. By the way, has your elevator always been so small ? Your back leans against one wall as Johnny does the same right in front of you, honey eyes traveling from your eyes to your uncovered collarbones. The brunettes tries, he really tries to stop his eyes from traveling down but they do eventually, swallowing built up saliva when his pupils travel down your hips, to your naked legs.

Ten’s almost about to say something, just to break the thick silence before the doors opening saves the young men, he decides he definitely is not going to stay with the two of you tonight.

You, on the other side, seem to finally be able to breathe once you step out the elevator, Johnny’s attention did not go unnoticed. Try and act normal, probably the only thing going on your mind and Johnny’s.

“Hey, look who it is !”, Miss Jeon’s voice is heard before you can even see her. You’re familiar with the park the gathering is taking place in, but it sure looks amazing in the late afternoon. At this time of the year, the grass’ green, flowers bloomed, small fruits are starting to turn red under the summer sunlight. Even better, the water fountains are on, the one right in the middle is large, tall, multicolor lights when the moon shines. Finally, when you and your two friends turn the corner to enter the park, you’re physically greeted by Miss Jeon who’s wearing a really pretty pen skirt, hair flowing in the soft summer wind. “Miss Jeon !”, you greet her with a smile which isn’t enough for the lady who pulls you into a hug. One hand grabs yours and the tallest makes you swirl around, a high pitched “Wow ! Look at you !”, coming out of her lips.

“You look amazing, darling. You two, too.”, as always, the lady is extremely cheerful. You notice hers and other neighbors’ kids already playing around in the park, loud screams every now and then. A bit closer to the fountain, multicolor light are hanging from the threes, you can faintly distinguish a song playing. Large tables are set there, alongside chairs were parents and others are all talking together, setting whatever they bought.

“Go set everything there, we’ll start eating soon.”, Miss Jeon instructs, and you follow her orders as she stays in front of the park to greet anyone coming.

Everything is quickly set up where all the deserts are, neighbors come until you they flood the park, you almost think everyone’s here. “I did not expect so many people.”, Johnny tells you, taking a plastic cup to get himself some juice right before giving you a cup.

“Me neither.”, you tell him, eyes glazing over the last people walking in. Almost everyone responded to the call, a pretty heart warming sigh. Some of your neighbors you never actually talked to are here, mostly because they’re from other buildings from the same project.

“I see Ten is already making friends.”, you continue, eyes catching your friend talking to another neighbor, one you think is in his early thirties, you’ve talked to him once, maybe.

“Ten is a social butterfly.”, Johnny laughs into his cup, before eventually taking a step forward toward the black haired. If his roommate was going to socialize, he might as well too.

“I think it is overrated.”, ah yes, now you remember why you did not much to this guy. James is a foreign, blonde, man bun type of guy who finds everything overrated, it’s almost impossible to talk about your hobbies and interests with him without being ripped apart. He probably isn’t that mean just, not that good at social interaction. You see Ten’s expression turning from excited to somewhat confused, to what you intervene.

“What is ?”, you ask, and you don’t really like when the blonde acts like he did not notice you and Johnny walking.

“Oh, Y/N, hi. Long time no see.”, he says, not paying any attention to Johnny. You greet him anyways, slightly taken back by his attitude. “And you are ?”

“Johnny.”, the men behind you says, stretching a hand out to shake his.

“Oh, strong grip.”, slight contortion of the blond’s face, he quickly retracts his hand when Johnny lets go.

“Anyways, when are you letting me see you play ?”, James ask and oh, how you have to search in your memory to understand what the fuck he’s talking about. The blonde wants to learn how to play the guitar, that was, maybe eight months ago.

“Oh eh. One day, maybe.”, you awkwardly laugh.

“We hear you play every night, don’t say you don’t have time for me !”, he tries and laugh off the sentence. Ten shifts, poor thing seems taken back but thankfully, Johnny’s quick to react. As you’re about to respond, his hand slides on your waist, “I’m pretty busy with uni’, but I can send you some great guitarists’ videos.”, you choke out, mind slightly bugging at the brunette’s touch.

“She’ll let you know when she has time for you.”, the tallest does not hesitate and, it visibly annoys the blonde. A sharp “Okay .”, tumbles from his lips before he leaves towards the salty foods.

“He’s weird.”, Ten finally says, Johnny doesn’t take his hand away.

It takes hours for Johnny to address it again.

The midnight breeze always feels special, soft, fresh, it licks the thin layer of sweat the bolt sun created on your skin. Your jacket’s off your shoulders, loosely hanging on the crook of your elbows, seating on the cold marble of the fountain.

Soft sound of the water running behind you, all the kids have been sent to sleep, alongside their parents and other hard working adults needing of sleep, just the low sound of some jazz music you’re unfamiliar with and some chatter as the background noise.

You shoes kick off some small rocks and sand, eyes looking up at the multicolor lights still hanging on the trees. You laugh off one of Johnny’s joke, before he gets serious again, his left hand lightly touching the fountain’s water.

“By the way, sorry about earlier. I didn’t ask if I could touch you like that.”

You have to think for a slight second to understand what he’s talking about, hand grabbing onto the bowl of ice cream you set aside for yourself. Your spoon digs into the chocolate cream, taking a fair amount of whipped cream.

“Oh ! Oh, no. Don’t worry about it, I don’t mind.”, I liked it, you would’ve said if you were a little bit more brave. Spoon in your mouth, you eagerly gulp down the frozen desert, Johnny only softly smiles.

“Is he always like that ?”, he asks, body turning a bit more to face you. He’s close, really close, but it became normal. It became normal for him to have your naked thigh against his, you shamelessly look down at it for god knows how many times tonight. It became normal for you to almost be able to feel his breath die on your skin.

“I don’t know, tonight was the second time I ever talked to him.”, you tell him, tongue quickly cleaning the tiny drop of ice cream forming at the corner of your lips. Johnny stays silent for a second, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips, before its feels like he shakes his thoughts away. His gaze stays fixated on your eyes so confidently it’s even worst than him looking at your lips, you shift under his pupils, crossing a leg over the other.

“He seems really pushy.”, Johnny breathes out, and he finds the exact same octave he was speaking to you in just last night, right in front of his apartment. It’s clear he only is replying for politeness.

“You have hm, some ice cream, here.”, the brunette hums, again ripping you out of your reverie. Left hand covers your mouth, index and middle finger brushing at the corner but it seems you are not picking the right side.

“Wait, no-.”, he laughs for a quick second, crescent eyes before they shift to something else. His thumb quickly wipes the other side of your lips, and you freeze. You lock dead in your position, eyes slightly larger as he helps you clean up with a soft yet deep “There you go.”

For hours now, Johnny had been the only thing on your mind. From the moment he stepped out of his apartment, the moment his eyes seemed to devour every bit of your body, the moment he left is hand lingering on the small of your waist. To the moment he sat down to eat, legs, strong thighs spread, the moment he talked to the smallest kids from the second building, the moment he lead you behind the fountain with a hand in the small of your back.

But, when Johnny lets his lips capture the tip of his thumb, cleaning the bit of ice cream, you think you might never be able to think about anything else but him, but Johnny.

You have to look away, desperately trying to gather your thoughts, something you can’t do when the brunette’s looking at you with such innocent eyes.

“You okay ?”, he asks like he didn’t do anything, like he did not just do that.

“Yeah, I-.”, you have to leave you plastic bowl somewhere behind you, brain fuming to find something else to say.

“You’re blushing. You had the same look yesterday.”, he notes, and…He knows ? He knew before you did, that’s what his slight smirk tells you. “It’s a shame Ten had to ruin it, but I like this setting better.”, Johnny hums, but he never takes his eyes away.

“Could’ve kissed me anyways.”, you dare to say. Your mouth goes dry, for some reason, biting down on your bottom lip. The brunette comes a little closer, and just like last time, you can't help but get lost in his irises, notice the way his eyes curl at their inner corner, now how his pupils slowly eclipses the soft brown of his eyes.

Tongue poking at the inside of his cheek, his lines a bit closer again, hand sliding under your chin. You stop breathing for a second, eyelids involuntarily growing heavy.

“Did I miss my shot ?”, you can almost feel him mouth the words.

“Maybe, but I can give you another one.”, you manage to tease, face tilting to the side before he even does anything. If he doesn't do it himself, you'll break the distance, but he holds you in the palm of his hand, so hypnotise under his spell you can only anticipate his next move.

“Good, would've hated myself for missing it.”, he says and, as you hoped, the brunette finally lets his lips crash against yours. It's soft, a kiss to taste the water, though he himself taste the chocolate you just ate.

Pillows lips slowly starts moving against yours, you easily follow his rhythm, sighing when his hand moves from your chin to your neck, deepening the exchange.

Your hand easily finds his hair, finally letter your fingers grasp onto the soft locks. It's a soft grip, yet Johnny sighs softly against your lips, sound turning into a slight groan once you bite down on his bottom lip.

That does it for him, the kiss quickly turns needy, desperate, he touches where he can, second hand lightly running up your thigh.

Arms wrap behind his neck to keep him close, body leaning backwards, Johnny has to plant a hand on the marble behind you, second hand wrapping behind your waist.

The brunette doesn't hesitate a second more, like he's afraid of letting go of the moment, afraid you're gonna slip away between his fingers like the clear water of the fountain. Pick tongue laps at your bottom lip, you part them without a moment of hesitation. It's eager, rushed, the taste of the desert you just ate still lingers on your tongue while you get the fruity drink he was sipping on moments before.

Finally, when you have to let go for some air, breathing altered by the exchange, Johnny doesn't let go. Long kisses are planted at the corner of your lips, he takes his time until he travels down to your jaw where you stop him.

And, before he can ask you anything, you quickly grab his hand in yours, “Let's go inside.”

He follows quickly behind, leaving everything behind, you take the second gate of the park. Shorter, you also don't have to walk in front of all your remaining neighbors like this, lips swollen, eyes blown.

You don't think you've ever walked so fast to your apartment, you don't think you've ever been so happy to see Sangkyu's spot vacant.

The silence is heavy, breath still uneven when you push the button of the elevator and the doors open immediately.

If you didn't know the men behind you was as desperate as you were, you definitely understand once he pushed you inside the small cubicle.

He blindly pushes the button to your shared floor, right hand wrapping around your throat to swiftly push you against the cold wall. If he doesn't tighten his grip, you sure wish he did, but you have other things to care about at the moment. The hand previously around your neck plants itself right next to your hand and this time, he has to lean down to capture your lips another time.

Completely pinning your body to the cold metal, he uses his hips against yours, a gasp escaping your lips he uses to slip his tongue between your lips again. And, you let a breathy moan come out of your lips when he pushes his hips flush against your, hard on pressing against your body. Even with the two layers, you can feel him.

You never felt so hot inside this elevator, it moves without stopping at any floor, no music as the silence is filled by your soft breaths and the sound of his mouth against yours.

Beat washes over you, if your panties weren't ruined already, they sure are now. Now that the brunette rolls his hips, slowly, tentatively slow, just to make you feel every inch. Your mind's clouded, body reacting by itself when it archs away from the wall.

He lets his forearm rest against the metal wall, about to travel down to your neck, hips grinding against yours.

When he's about to bite down on the skin of yours neck, teeth grazing over the flesh, the doors open to your floor.

It's Johnny's turn to grab onto your hand, pulling you out of the elevator but he never stays too long away from your body.

Full lips pepper kisses on your face, before he breathes out against your skin.

“Your apartment, yeah ?”

Obviously, you want to tell him, naturally walking towards your door.

“Unless you want your roommate to walk in on us.”, you let a breathy giggle out, facing your door.

Fuck, now out of all times, you can not find your keys. Maybe it's because your shaky hands can barely search your pockets. Hard to blame yourself when the brunette stands behind you, hard cock pressed against you, arms tightly wrapped around your stomach, face buried in your neck.

“Baby, they're here.”, the tallest hums, voice so low it vibrates against your skin. His right hands pats one of your front pockets. A simple “Oh.” tumbles from your lips at that, mind hardly registering the way he still his moving against your body, nickname rolling out of his tongue too easily.

Finally, you manage to force your key into your door, quickly twisting the metal piece before you push the door open.

This time, you don't know if you pull Johnny in your apartment or if he pushes you in, the door is loudly shut before the men tries to take your near your coach, as you drop your jacket off somewhere.

“Johnny.”, you try to whine, but it comes out as a breathy moan as the men soflty sucks on the skin between your neck and shoulder, a pale purple petal blooming. His name coming from your lips sounds oh so delicious, Johnny decides he loves the way it sounds, determined to hear it again and again, louder and louder. “Let me at least close the door.”

When he lets you do so, not whitout a pout on his lips, they find yours again in a desperate kiss, hands grabbing the back of your thighs.

“This dress looks so fucking good on you.”, he growls once you let him pick you up, black fabric riding up your thighs.

“Got dressed up for you.”, you confess, your own lips traveling down his neck when the brunette sits down on your coach. He chuckles lowly, head rolling back, humming at the small attentions you're giving him. “Hm, saw you putting your makeup on and knew you'd look ravishing.”, he says.

Large hands on your hips, Johnny easily pushes your hips down on his thigh.

“Wow, I'll make sure to pull my curtains next time.”, you tease, blooming flowers on his collarbones.

“Give me a fucking show next time.”, he growls out, hand ghosting over your neck before his thumb traces your bottom lip again.

You almost freeze, mere thought of following his oder the next time you catch him in front of his window a little bit too appealing. Having him so close yet, too far to feel his touch, you already felt it for days.

“Come on, ride my thigh.”, you moan out.

Forceful hands help you find a rhythm, one you easily follow once your thoughts get over your dizzy mind. You mouth hands open, hands grabbing onto his arms at the sudden gesture. Johnny only smirks, an eyebrow arching up.

If he didn't before, he sure does look like a god at this very moment. Blown out pupil look directly into your eyes, honey color you know so well eclipsed. Swollen, red lips, a hue painted over his cheeks, small love bites trialing down. Soft brown hair messy by your hands.

“What ? You think I didn't see you glaring ?”, there's a slight mocking tone in his voice, slight embarrassment washing over you but your body follows his voice anyways. Strong thigh under your core, you can barely gather words to reply, it's even harder when he flexs his muscles under you.

Your hips rocks back and forth, delicious pressure against your nub but you need more, more than just his thigh. He has everything to offer and if you don't get it now, you might go crazy.

And so, you tell him. “Johnny, need more.”, your voice sure sounded a lot less weak but the men obliges.

“Impatient little thing.”, he gestures towards your room, and when think you might not be able to walk all the way there without him pushing you against another wall, you surprisingly do.

When you turn around and crawl up your bed, Johnny's quick to follow, hands gripping onto the fabric covering his back before he pulls it over his head.

Defined abs under his caramel skin, strong arms holding himself up, you need a moment to take everything in, hands running down his chest when he hover over your body.

“Take it off.”, he demands, voice almost strict. Leg over his hip, you barely use any force to change positions.

You sit on his lap a second time, supporting yourself on your knees to take off your dress. The brunette uses his elbows, mouth parting when you pull the fabric over your hips. He barely needs any support to sit up, hands grasping the black dress to help you take the fabric off entirely.

The brunette mumbles praises into your skin, lips ghosting over your neck, hands touching wherever they can. Desperate, he maps your body, learning every curve, every inch.

“So beautiful.”, he mumbles out, before his right hand traces the line of your panties.

They're soaked, wet patch on his black jeans and he doesn't fail to notice.

“Already so wet, hm ? Fuck, can I ?”, he doesn't hesitate once you give him your verbal permission, a finger running over your folds over the light fabric.

What a simple touch can do to you, you don't doubt the men doing it also has a huge part in it, but you shiver under the slight attention.

Biting down on his bottom lip, ring clapped hand dips into your panties, where his index and middle finger gather your juices, humming contently.

You're about to complain again, ask him to do something already but he beats you at it, both fingers effortlessly sliding between your lower lips.

“Fuck, ah— Johnny.”, hands gripping his shoulders, your eyes screw shut once he finds a slow and torturing pace, moving in and out as his thumb brushes over your bud.

It's sensual, burning, one hand travels down his chest until you're met with his jeans, quickly working on them once he nods.

You curse his tight jeans for a moment before he helps you push the fabric just enough, alongside his grey briefs.

And fuck, he's big. You knew when he grinded against your inner thigh, but the way his cock slaps against his stomach, head red and hungry, has your mouth parting, core clenching against his fingers.

“Shit, yeah. Good girl, right there.”, Johnny loses himself in praises, head rushing with thoughts he groans out once your hand wraps around his length.

It's probably the honest thing you've ever seen, Johnny's head rolls back, it hits the wall of your bedroom, Adam's appel bobbing up and down. The pace of his fingers matches the rhythm of your hand around his cock, eyes slightly opening just to watch your slender fingers around him and the way you take his.

“You're so fucking tight, god.”, a third finger goes alongside and you have to pose, jaw hanging open and the brunette can not resist.

His mouth finds yours again, kisses deep, messy, hurried. It's like his starving, he growl against your mouth when your thumb runs over his slit and your hips move against his fingers.

“Fuck, wanna taste you.”, he flips you over too easily, a gasp coming out of your lips when you back harshly hits your bed.

Strong hands gripping at your panties, your hear the sharp snap of the elastic breaking under his soaked fingers.

“Johnny !”, it's between a whine and a moan, how can him ruining your panties be so fucking hot.

“Will get you new ones if you want.”, you can barely recognise his voice, his fingers slide the fabric down and he looks up at you, eyes hungry, lips red.

“You have no fucking idea how hard I was when I found your panties.”, he confesses and, before you can reply, his mouth dives in. Tongue flat against your core, your legs instinctively close around his head, but his hands are quick to pin your thighs to the mattress while yours find his hair, messing it even more.

“Yeah ? Fuck, you're so good, your tongue feels so good.”

Johnny only hums, tongue running up and down until he wraps his lips around your button of nerves. The brunette's eating you out like a starved men, shamelessly, the wet sounds filling the room.

When he takes a break to breathe, he pops his fingers into his mouth, cleaning them.

“Taste so good.”, every word he says fires your body up even more, his mouth doesn't even need to speak for it to affect you, but you need him.

He dives a second time, fingers joining this time. Pace a lot less slow, his lips wrap around your bud a second time, focusing on the small button while his fingers quickly move.

In, out, in, out. Long fingers quickly build up the tension in your stomach, cold rings contrasting with his hot breath.

You only need a little bit more, when his fingers curl the right way, his groans vibrate at the right moment. Your fingers tighten around his locks as you come undone, loudly, unapologetically.

Wet lips, glossy eyes, Johnny looks at your figure as you arch your back away from your bed, moaning into the air.

It takes almost minutes for you to come down but, when you do, Johnny's about to dive a third time. Your hand stops his head.

“Want you inside, want to feel you.”, you tell him once you pulled him towards you face again. A quick kiss is planted on your lips where you can taste yourself, before he hides his face again in your neck, breathing heavily.

“Do you have a condom ?”, he asks, blown out eyes looking into your own.

You nod quickly, pointing at your bed table. You hear the brunette thanking the gods, he didn't want to have and walk all the way to his own appartement to get one. Leaning towards the said bed table, he pulls the small door open and find the box there.

Taking a little foil package between his lips, Johnny quickly closes the small door before hovering over you again.

Pearly teeth are used to open the packaging, he doesn't wait a second to roll the material out on his hard shaft, sighing slightly.

“So tiny, can you even take me ?”, it seems the brunette asks himself, hand jerking himself off.

You answer him anyways, “I can, please.”.

Soft smile on his lips, the brunette uses his hand to align himself with your drenched core.

The tallest thought about this very moment for hours the night before, but nothing prepared him for the tightenes, your wet, hot core wrapping around his head.

You both moan in almost unison, Johnny has to hold himself from slamming in. You, on the other hand, have a hard time wrapping your head around how he's stretching you out so nicely.

A mixture of pleasure and slight pain you're quickly addicted to. A hand claws at his back, the tallest moves inch, by inch, by inch.

“So fucking tight. When's the last time someone fucked you properly ?”, his sudden change in behaviour gives you whiplash, you can only whine at his question and mumble something about not knowing when, exactly.

“Please, fuck me.”, if you have to beg, you will but thankfully, Johnny doesn't have much patience tonight. Once he's fully in, he doesn't hesitate to pull out just to ram in. Your body rides up, head thrown back, moan silent.

“Gonna fuck you nice and deep. Stretch you, yeah ?”

You can only nod eagerly, Johnny laughs breathlessly. His forearm supports his body right next to you head, necklace hanging over your body, right hand tightly holding your hip.

He barely gives you the time to adjust, hips snapping at a steady pace.

Headboard sharply knocking against your wall, your thankful your neighbors aren't here. Still sensitive, your moans turn breathless, barely audible. Forehead against your own, Johnny doesn't hide his moans, your name, any profanities coming to his mind.

“Fuck, turn around for me, baby.”, breathless, chest irregularly moving up and down, he helps you do so after moving out.

Flipping you on your stomach, the brunette curses at himself a second time. His body flush against yours, he supports himself next to your head again, second hand affectionaly running in your hair.

He takes you from behind, cock easily sliding in this time. Moans hidden in your pillow, Johnny doesn't take that, using the hand locked in your locks to turn your head.

“Don't hide your moans, wanna hear you.”

Just like he wanted after stepping into your apartment, the tallest has you whining his name, loudly, until you're numbed, fucked dumb until his name's the only thing you know.

A snap of his hips reaches deeper, it's there you feel the tension threatening to break.

It's like he can read you, he does it again, breathy laugh coming out of his lips.

“Come around me, let go. Let go for me.”, it's all you need, you easily follow his order, core tightening around his shaft.

“God, your pussy’s gripping me.”, his hips alter, lips finding yours again. “Gonna make me come so hard.”

Fucked out, yet you managed to raise your hips, core clenching around him. That does it, loud growl resonates in the room, mixed in with your name.

“Are you okay ?”, Johnny asks, voice soft after he pulls out, throwing the condom in your bin.

You hum, too tired to answer, you smile nonetheless when he takes you into his arm, arm pushing your hair to the side.

“This isn't how I wanted things to go.”, he hums, picking a fallen eyelash from your cheek.

“Oh, really ?”, you ask, tired, his hand running up and down your spine putting you to sleep.

“Wanted to take you out on a date first.”, he admits. “But how do you want me to resist when you were calling me like a siren singing at a lone traveler.”

© NEOVISIONED l NO REPOSTING OR TRANSLATIONS ALLOWED.

[221bsunsettowers]

Buck/Eddie: I Can’t Get Enough of This Kind of Love (Part 2 of the Good News on My TV Screen Buddie AU series)

In just a few days, Buck has been in his second helicopter crash, been rescued by his boyfriend and their friends, witnessed people almost dying at a bug eating competition and the largest charley horse possibly ever, seen a woman with a high heel through her face at a child's beauty pageant, and had his beloved Eddie tell him he loves him for the very first time while tripping on laced brownies.

So there's that.

In which news reporter Buck is an integral part of the events from the episode 2x06 "Dosed".

(Amazing fanart poster by the amazing @jemmalynette! )

(Thank you so much to everyone who left love and kudos and comments for the first story in this series! In my head, the first story was a one and done that I had a lot of fun writing, and then all the requests to make this a series inspired me to do exactly that!

If you haven’t read the first story in the series, I would recommend doing that first, so you get the background of news reporter Buck and firefighter Eddie, and how they first meet and get together. You can read the first story here )

I Can’t Get Enough of This Kind of Love (can be read on Ao3 here)

Carefully placing the box labeled Dishes on the kitchen counter, Eddie immediately went back outside, bending down to grab the next box. "You really want me to like you, don't you?" Maddie's voice came from behind, and Eddie spun around, meeting her stare with a hopeful smile.

"Honestly, Maddie, I really like your brother, so yes please," Eddie answered promptly, and Maddie's gaze softened. She stepped forward, and patted Eddie on the shoulder as she walked past him and into her new home.

"Excellent answer!" Maddie called back, and Eddie felt arms wrap around him from behind. He leaned back into his boyfriend's embrace, smiling as Buck planted a kiss behind his ear.

  "Evan!" Maddie yelled out the window, "you can make googly eyes at your boyfriend later, he wants me to like him and my furniture isn't going to move itself!" She smirked as Buck blushed and walked over to the couch, bending his knees and grabbing one end as Eddie dutifully grabbed the other.

"Googly eyes, maybe when you stop making googly eyes at Chim," Buck muttered under his breath, and Eddie laughed as they moved in tandem up the stairs.

"I'll tease Chim relentlessly at work if that helps," Eddie promised with a wink, and Buck grinned mischievously, nodding his head.

"We've got a helicopter crash, a news station was doing a traffic report," Bobby explained as the fire truck screeched to a stop and everyone quickly hopped out. Eddie noticed the rest of his team shooting worried glances at him, but he waved them off with a grateful smile.

"Buck never does the traffic reports," Eddie assured them, as Bobby called them into a quick huddle. "He told me he paid those dues a few news stations ago."

"Um, Eddie?" Chimney said hesitantly, facing the helicopter and extending a finger to point at the back window. Turning, Eddie met Buck's gaze, could see from even this distance how he was working hard to keep his breathing even and his body still.

"Fuck," Eddie breathed out, feeling his heart stutter in time with the still-spinning rotors.

"Eddie, you going to be okay on this one?" Bobby asked softly, laying a comforting hand on Eddie's shoulder.

"Buck needs me, Cap, I'm on it," Eddie promised, forcing his focus onto the job at hand. "We need to watch for dynamic rollover, when we start getting them out the weight of the copter could shift."

"Okay, Chimney, you're going to pull Buck out first, make sure you're keeping an eye on the balance," Bobby ordered as they moved towards the helicopter.

 "Eddie, can you shut down the helicopter?" Eddie opened his mouth, about to argue that he should be the one to get Buck out, but then he sighed, nodding, knowing he needed to trust his captain to get Buck out of there quickly and safely.

  Still, Eddie couldn't keep his eyes off Buck, lunging forward as the helicopter rocked, but then Chimney had Buck back on solid ground, and Eddie was next to the pilot, stabilizing the balance and shutting off the engine. The second he had the pilot out and in Hen's capable hands, Eddie spun around and grabbed Buck in his own grasp, pulling him into his arms.

Eddie gripped onto the back of Buck's shirt, tugging his body as closely as possible. Buck nestled his face into the crook of Eddie's shoulder, and Eddie swayed them gently from side to side, pressing his lips against Buck's temple. "You're safe, sweetheart," Eddie murmured into Buck's skin. "I've got you."

He could feel Buck nodding and pulled back just enough to see Buck's face, running a gentle finger over a small cut on his boyfriend's cheek. "Let me check you out," Eddie insisted, leading Buck over to a bench and kneeling in front of him.

"You can check me out any time," Buck bantered back with a mischevious smile, and Eddie laughed, shaking his head as he squeezed Buck's hand.

"Sounds like he's just fine!" Chimney called out with a smile, patting Buck's shoulder as he made his way over to where the pilot was sitting.

"No comments about how you're hotter than just fine, or how much you like me kneeling in front of you," Eddie commanded, pointing a finger at Buck, who shrugged and grinned,  Eddie smiling back in relief. "You scared the shit out of me," Eddie whispered, leaning in to cup Buck's face in his hands, laying a soft kiss on his lips. "Let me make sure you're okay, please?"

"Yeah," Buck whispered back, resting his forehead against Eddie's, "yeah, of course." Pulling out his penlight, Eddie shined the beam into Buck's eyes.

 Nodding in satisfaction, he took Buck through the rest of concussion protocol, checked for any other injuries, and cleaned out the small cut and bandaged it. Next to him, Chimney and Hen were finishing checking the pilot, assuring Buck he was completely fine.

"What were you doing on traffic anyway?" Eddie asked, sliding up to sit next to Buck, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as Buck leaned into Eddie's side.

"Oliver called in sick last minute, so I offered to sub in," Buck answered, sighing in relief as Eddie moved a hand to the back of Buck's neck, rubbing at the tense muscles. "I definitely didn't expect to be in my second helicopter crash." As Eddie's hand suddenly stilled at Buck's words, Buck bit his bottom lip, meeting Eddie's wide-eyed gaze. "If it helps, I clearly survived that one too?" he offered up hesitantly, and he heard poorly-concealed laughter coming from the rest of the team's general direction.

  "Can't say I didn't know what I was getting myself into," Eddie sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head, before leaning in to kiss Buck softly. "Let's try to keep helicopter crashes off the agenda, yeah?"

"No subbing in for traffic again or chartering a romantic copter ride for the two of us, got it," Buck recited with a smirk, and Eddie rolled his eyes, nudging Buck in the side before hopping off the bench.

  "Any chance I could get you to come back with me to the fire station so I can keep an eye on you?" Eddie asked hopefully.

"I would love that, but I have to get back to work," Buck said ruefully, gesturing at the news van that was already pulling up.

  Eddie sighed, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Buck's. "Text and call me when you can, please? Just let me know you're doing okay?"

"Of course," Buck promised, sneaking another quick kiss in before heading towards the van. Grabbing the door handle, he turned around. "Be safe out there, babe! And thanks guys!"

Eddie had gotten a myriad of selfies from Buck in the hours after the helicopter rescue. One at his desk, captioned I promise I'm watching out for papercuts. Another getting ready to go in front of the camera, Taking proper electrocution prevention steps. The pictures continued rolling in, Eddie laughing fondly at each one, saving them to his photos because he couldn't resist. Any picture of his boyfriend was one he wanted to have, even when said boyfriend was being a glorious little shit.

His phone trilled out "Breaking News!" again and Eddie quickly clicked on the new picture, a smile spreading across his face as the photo revealed Buck standing in front of the fire station, captioned Practicing fire safety. Shoving his phone in his pocket, Eddie hurried down the stairs, skipping the bottom step in his haste.

"Surprise!" Buck called out with a grin, hurrying forward to meet Eddie, throwing his arms around his boyfriend's neck before leaning in for a kiss. Eddie's arms looped around Buck's waist as he held him close, both men smiling broadly.

"This is a great surprise," Eddie proclaimed, brushing a curl of hair away from Buck's eye. "Did a story fall through?"

"Actually, a new story came up," Buck grinned, grabbing Eddie's hand and interlacing their fingers. "C'mon, let's go upstairs, I want to talk to everybody about it."

"Hey Buck!" Chimney met the two at the top of the stairs, grabbing Buck's hand and pulling him in for a quick hug. "Since we have a chance now, what kind of wine does your sister like best? I'm going over to help her move more of her stuff after work."

"Red, and make sure you bring some popcorn too," Buck answered with a wink, patting Chimney on the shoulder. "Maddie could eat popcorn all day every day and be very happy about it."

"Thanks!" Chimney called back as Buck made his way around the kitchen, greeting everyone else before moving to the coffee maker. Placing a filled mug in front of Eddie, Buck sat down holding his own mug (the one Eddie had brought from home for Buck to use whenever he visited the fire station). Leg brushing against Eddie's, Buck took a sip of coffee.

"Before I say anything else, I just want to make sure you guys know you can absolutely say no to this," Buck began, meeting the eyes of everyone else around the table. "You don't have to give me a reason, and I won't take any offense, I promise." Turning to Eddie, Buck interlaced their fingers. "Including you babe, okay?"

  Waiting until everyone had nodded, Buck continued. "My boss knows I'm dating someone from the 118, and after that helicopter rescue this morning, he came to me and told me he wants a story done on a day in the life of the LAFD heroes of the 118. I told him I have to be the one to do it, because I don't want anyone else twisting up the story in any way, and that you guys have to be okay with it or it isn't happening."

There was silence for a minute, and then Bobby spoke. "You know, normally I would absolutely say no to this," he said with a sigh, leaning back in his chair, "because a reporter could get in the way, could create their own narrative that has nothing to do with the truth, or could even use someone's pain or cause harm themselves. But Buck, you also know I trust you. I believe that you will do this truthfully and put the safety of others above the story."

"I will, absolutely Bobby," Buck vowed, blushing at Bobby's words. "I would never spin anything to make you guys look bad, and I would never put anyone in danger or show them suffering, I promise."

"Of course you wouldn't," Eddie said proudly, slinging an arm around Buck's shoulders and pulling him in close. Buck beamed up at him, leaning into his side.

"We all trust you, Buck," Hen said, and Chimney nodded, and Buck smiled bashfully, glancing down at where his and Eddie's fingers were now intertwined on Eddie's thigh.

"So it's okay to start tomorrow?" Buck asked hesitantly, and Bobby let out a gentle laugh, nodding.

"Absolutely, Buck, we'll see you then," Bobby responded, just as the alarm sounded, and the rest of the team leapt to their feet.

  "I especially like the part where you'll be at work with me all day," Eddie grinned, leaning in for a quick kiss, which Buck eagerly returned.

"Me too," Buck grinned back, squeezing Eddie's hand before letting go. "Stay safe, sweetheart."

The next day saw Buck arriving hand in hand with Eddie, each balancing a carryout tray of coffees in their free hand. "You know we already love you two, right?" Hen teased, plucking the coffee with her name on it from the tray and taking a grateful sip. "But please feel free to keep the caffeine coming."

"I'm ready for my close up!" Chimney announced, dramatically leaping into the room, arms flourished. He grinned as everyone laughed, before taking his coffee as well.

"Since you're so ready, Chim, why don't you come for your interview first?" Buck gestured downstairs, eyes twinkling mischeviously as Chimney followed him. "We can start with you telling the story about how you got  your nickname..."

By the time the round of interviews was over, Buck was near tears. He would swear he heard his cameraman sniffing as well. Every story the 118 had told him had broken his heart and lifted him up, all at the same time, and when his friends and boyfriend shared what were the best things about being a part of the 118, Buck was honored all over again that they had welcomed him into their family.

A sudden alarm jolted Buck out of his emotions and back into the present, and he quickly followed the team as they raced towards the fire truck and flung themselves in, settling into their seats.  "You mean I can't just ride on your lap?" Buck pouted teasingly, as he ran to the driver's side of the news station van.

"You've taken a ride on my lap plenty of times, Buck," Eddie murmured into Buck's ear, "and I'm sure we can arrange another ride when we get home tonight." Smirking, he planted a quick kiss on Buck's lips before joining the others in the truck.

"You gorgeous bastard!" Buck yelled at Eddie's retreating back, Eddie's snort of laughter making Buck smile as he buckled his seatbelt and started the car.

"Whoa!" Buck's jaw dropped as he took in the crowd, and particularly the monitor lizard, in front of them. "Did you know monitor lizards have long forked tongues just like snakes?"

"Ah, a fan!" the woman nearest the lizard exclaimed, clapping her hands as Chimney darted out of the way. "His name is Claude, and the winner gets to take him home. Do you want to give it a try?"

"I'm okay over here, thanks," Buck responded quickly, as he took in the rest of the scene before him, namely the man struggling to breathe. As the 118 made their way over to the man, Buck made sure he and his cameraman stayed out of the way.

Chimney and Hen both flinched as they knelt down beside the man. Buck had the cameraman swing the camera away as soon as he realized the patient was in clear medical distress, instead having him film the other competitive eaters at the table, which unexpectedly included the woman with live cockroaches crawling back up out of her mouth.

  As the man began breathing again (and consequently began throwing up live crickets), the camerman got footage of the saved patient and the 118 loading him into the ambulance. "Did you know Joey Chestnut once ate seventy four hotdogs in ten minutes?" Buck piped up eagerly, and Eddie grinned, giving Buck a quick peck on the lips as he hurried towards the truck.

"You are so smart, babe," Eddie said proudly, Buck beaming as he slid back into the driver's seat of the van.

  "Even live bugs erupting out of people's mouths can't turn you two off from kissing, huh?" Chimney called out as he started up the ambulance. Eddie shook his head, offering Chim a proud grin and a wink as he drove off.

After rescuing a body builder from the largest charley horse anyone there had ever seen, the fire truck and news van pulled back into the station, Buck hopping out to join the 118 as they headed towards the kitchen.

"You did good, kid," Bobby said with a smile, squeezing Buck's shoulder as he passed. "You put the people above the story." Buck ducked his head, blushing, as he did a pleased little hop on his way towards Eddie.

"He's right, babe," Eddie grinned, tugging Buck into his side, planting a kiss to the top of his head. "Just like the day we met."

"Thanks, baby," Buck said with a bashful grin, turning his head to steal another kiss from his boyfriend, before squeezing his hand and pulling away. "I've got to get in a call to Taylor and give her an update before the next call."

"I'll be waiting on the couch," Eddie promised, and Buck winked at him before striding away, already pulling his phone out as he headed towards the bench right outside the station.

"Want a brownie?" Hen asked Eddie as she walked over, holding out the last brownie on the plate.

"Thanks, I'm starving," Eddie answered, grabbing the brownie and taking a bite. "Are there more treats on the table for Buck? He's just calling in to his boss."

"There are plenty of delicious snacks left," Hen promised as she settled into a chair. "Just not any more of these between you, me and Bobby."

"As  long as there's sugar," Eddie laughed, looking fondly over towards Buck, who had now hopped up onto the bench and was skipping back and forth across it as he talked into his phone.

The next call brought them all to another unexpected venue, this time a child beauty pageant. "Is that..." Buck asked, trailing off as he stared at the reason the 118 had been called.

  "A woman with a high heel stuck in her face?" Chimney responded, shaking his head as they made their way towards her. "Yes, yes it is."

  The little girls were all swarming around Buck, who had crouched down immediately and was now occupied giving out smiles and high fives to the giggling children. So it took him a bit to notice that Eddie and Hen were definitely not acting like themselves. Eddie was staring down at the kids surrounding Buck with a look of shock and some terror too, his eyes wide and his body frozen.

"Eds, you okay there?" Buck asked, carefully rising to his feet and laying a hand on Eddie's arm.

"Are we giants, Evan?" Eddie asked, dragging out every syllable, before getting distracted for a minute trying and failing to see his own tongue. "Or are these the tiniest ladies ever?"

"Um, they're definitely kids, babe," Buck responded, eyes squinted in confusion even as he couldn't help but let out a laugh. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Your hair is glowing," Eddie breathed out in awe, holding his hands out over Buck's curls. "It's making my heart warm." Buck blushed, reaching for Eddie, who just kept making grabby hands at Buck's head. Buck quickly gestured to his cameraman to stop filming, before turning to Chimney.

"Hen's doing it too," Chim answered, just as confused, as he finished up with the injured woman and watched her be taken out on a gurney. Both men turned to see Hen poking a balloon, giggling with delight each time it bounced back at her.

  "They are definitely tripping," Athena said matter-of-factly, coming up from behind them, having finished putting the high heel attacker in handcuffs. Hen hurried up, beaming as she took in Athena's face before delightedly informing her she smelled like love. Athena calmly nodded her thanks before radioing in for RA backup.

"The brownies," Chim said suddenly, turning to Athena. As Athena pressed him for more information, Buck heard Eddie start loudly crying, and ran to his boyfriend's side.

"I don't like this," Eddie blubbered as a police officer gingerly handcuffed him.

"Hey, hey sweetheart, it's going to be okay, I promise," Buck promised, cupping Eddie's face in his hands reassuringly, Eddie leaning into the touch. "Just breathe, I've got you."

Eddie sucking in air and puffing out huge dramatic breaths was definitely a sight Buck was tucking away for later, to tease his boyfriend with when it wouldn't make Eddie start crying more. Athena shook her head and sighed, exchanging a fondly exasperated look with Buck before explaining to Eddie and Hen what had happened.

"We don't want you to hurt yourselves or anyone else," Athena finished, as Hen was beginning to reach for her for another sniff and a hug.

"Yeah, yeah I like that idea," Eddie choked out. As Athena helped guide them towards the door, the backup RAs rushing in, Eddie tugged back towards Buck.

  "I've got you, let's get you somewhere you feel safe," Buck said gently, squeezing Eddie's arm in reassurance.

"I love you, beautiful Buck," Eddie whispered into Buck's ear, before planting a sloppy kiss on Buck's cheek and letting himelf be led away, a stunned Buck following silently behind him.

Stumbling out of the bunkroom a few hours later, Eddie blinked at the bright lights, sighing gratefully as Buck pressed a large glass of water into his hands. After Eddie downed the entire glass without stopping, Buck refilled it and joined Eddie on the couch.

  "Are you feeling okay now?" Buck asked softly, as Eddie placed the now-empty second glass on the table and leaned his head onto Buck's shoulder.

"Just got a headache, dry mouth, and an overwhelming sense of humilation," Eddie huffed out, burying his face in Buck's shirt. "I can't even imagine what came out of my mouth."

"You don't remember, huh?" Buck sighed softly, and Eddie quickly lifted his head to look at him.

"Buck, please don't tell me I said something horrible to you," Eddie said quickly, grabbing at Buck's hands. "I was out of my mind, I had no idea what I was saying."

"That's what I was afraid of," Buck mumbled, staring at the floor. Eddie tugged at his hands until Buck looked at him again, and Eddie's eyes grew wise as he took in the pained look on Buck's face. Reluctantly, Buck pulled away before responding. "Eddie, you told me you love me."

"Shit, that's what I was afraid of," Eddie sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face. The whimper that slipped past Buck's lips, the sharp intake of shaky breath, and the footsteps quickly retreating had Eddie snapping his head back up, yelling "Buck!" as he saw his boyfriend's back moving further and further away.

Sprinting, Eddie reached out and grabbed Buck's hand, planting his feet and refusing to budge an inch as Buck tugged half-heartedly. "Eddie, please," Buck whispered, fixing his gaze on the floor. "I can't watch you walk away, okay?"

"And you think, what, that I want to watch you walk away instead?" Eddie was fully aware how much of himself he was putting on display, but he kept going, fingers under Buck's chin to tilt his head up and meet his eyes. "I meant I didn't want the first time I said it to be while I was out of my mind on laced brownies surrounded by tiny beauty queens."

  "Wait, Eddie, what..." Trailing off, Buck's breath hitched, his wide watery eyes staring into Eddie's.

"Turn the camera on," Eddie said firmly, gesturing to where the cameraman had left his equipment while he went to grab food with the crew. Buck opened his mouth, but Eddie gently lay a finger across his lips, shaking his head. "Please trust me, and turn the camera on. Point it right at me."

Buck nodded, shaky, picking up the camera and resting it on his shoulder, turning so the lens faced Eddie, who was now sitting down on the couch. As soon as the light switched on, Eddie looked straight into it. "You once asked me what was the best thing about being a firefighter with the 118," Eddie said, voice strong even as he wiped the fresh tear on his cheek. "And I said it was the comradery, that that was what I missed from being in the military, and I had found it here, again, with this team."

Lacing his fingers together, Eddie rested his chin against his knuckles, keeping his gaze focused on Buck, who appeared frozen, all breath and words caught up in his throat, eyes glued on Eddie's face. "But that's not true. I do care deeply about the people here, the family I chose, but that's not the best thing about being a firefighter here."

"Then what is?" Buck whispered, hands gripped so tight around the camera his knuckles had turned white.

  "The best thing is that I met the love of my life," Eddie said, making sure his voice was loud and clear, that both the camera and Buck couldn't miss a single word. Eddie shrugged helplessly, letting out a watery laugh as he bit his bottom lip. "This gorgeous man refused to air someone else's pain to gain viewers, and suddenly I was watching the news way more than I ever had before, just to see his face and learn his name. Turned out his name is Evan Buckley. And he's the bravest, smartest, kindest man I've ever known. And I am so, so in love with him."

Buck sniffled loudly, and Eddie knew his own voice and face were full of the degree of emotion he only ever really showed around his son...and now around Buck. There wasn't any point in fighting it, especially not if it ever made Buck doubt how much he was loved.

"So Buck, you can use this video in the story, you can keep it for yourself if you ever need a reminder of how very loved you are, you can do whatever you want with it. I know I don't always say how I feel, and I'm sorr-" His words cut off on a surprised huff as Buck suddenly put down the camera and ran to the couch, bouncing onto the cushions and tackling Eddie onto his back, immediately wrapping his arms around him.

"I love you too, Eds, so much," Buck sniffled, wiping at his eyes, "and if this is you keeping your emotions hidden, I don't think I would survive having you turn them on full force." Eddie laughed, grinning up at Buck full force, before reaching up and pulling him down into a slow, tender kiss, one that Buck eagerly reciprocated.

When the special on the 118 aired, Eddie and Buck watched it snuggled up on the couch with Christopher, all three in their pajamas and surrounded by empty pizza boxes and popcorn bowls. Christopher giggled and clapped his hands every time he saw his dad, and patted Buck's cheek with a grin every time he heard one of Buck's voiceovers play over the images on the screen.

The special concluded with a montage of the 118, all explaining why they joined the station and what it meant to them. Eddie heard his sound bites about the military and comradery interspersed with the others, before the camera focused in on him again. "The best thing is that I met the love of my life," Eddie heard himself say, the image on screen changing to a video clip of Eddie hard at work on the scene of a car crash, the very first day and the very same place he and Buck had met.

"The best thing is that I met the love of my life too," Buck's voiceover rang out over the footage, before the video faded out to a wideshot of the fire station. "And he is a hero, surrounded by heroes. The 118 never hesitate, never put their safety over the well being of others. They spend long days and nights in harrowing conditions, helping people through horrific experiences, and these brave men and women never ask for anything but to know where the next emergency is. We all owe the dedicated members of the 118 far more than we may ever know. So next time you pass by a fire station, think about saying thank you, even though they will never ask you to."

Eddie couldn't stop smiling, pressing kiss to Buck's temple, who grinned up at him from where he was nestled into Eddie's side.

The video shifted to one of Buck, hanging off the fire truck by one hand, grinning mischeviously. "Just please, please don't bring brownies. Try a nice gift card instead. Trust me on this. This is Evan Buckley, signing off, thank you for watching."

Eddie's laughter rang out over the closing credits.

If you would like to be added to my Buddie fanfiction taglist and/or my Good News on My TV Screen taglist specifically, just let me know!

@dancer-me @buddie-buddie​ @perfectlynervousbeard​ @i-had-bucky​

[zukonostalgia]

Zuko sells pastries and fruit at the farmers’ market, Sokka visits his stall every sunday morning

once a week, Zuko makes his way into the city with a big van, all of his wares stocked in the back, so that he can set up a plastic tables and tablecloths, with biodegradable baskets of strawberries and blueberries, and one full table in the U-shaped set up that’s just his homemade bread and pastries

and he’s usually pretty successful. he sells out of berries and fruit early, because they’re just so juicy and fresh, and then rearranges to present his fruit pastries and blueberry donuts and sourdough bread, but those are a little more difficult to sell. there are a lot of vendors at the market selling their bear claws and apple fritters.

but one weekend, he gets this guy, with an undercut and his hair pulled up, who immediately looks to his bread and pastries 

“whoa,” he says, “what is this?”

he’s pointing at a raspberry tart. so Zuko says, “it’s a raspberry tart. I made it.” he thinks it’s good, but he doesn’t want to elaborate. 

“it looks great,” undercut guy says. “I’ll take one, thanks!”

so Zuko wraps up one of his beloved fruit tarts and hands it off in a little cardboard box. “let me know what you think,” Zuko says, “it’s a new recipe for the pastry.”

and Sokka takes his pretty little fruit tart home, and shares it with his friends. and it’s such lovely, flakey pastry, and tart-sweet raspberry filling. and he’s thinking damn. I want more of this.

the next weekend, Sokka goes back to the same stand, a little late this time, and weighed down with his reusable canvas shopping bag, stuffed with vegetables and fruits that Katara wanted him to pick up

and he’s so relieved to see Zuko’s table still set up

“oh man,” he says, “I’m so glad you’re still here. I was worried you’d have run out of these by now.” Zuko is flattered okay

so he shrugs and says, “we’re more known for the fruit, really. the pastries and stuff are just on the side.”

“well yeah, but they’re so good. I don’t know how you’re not selling out within the hour”

and this time he gets a blackberry danish, and picks up a half dozen blueberry donuts to bring home to Katara and Aang and their roommates

and Zuko’s kind of reluctantly flattered, because he’s usually offloading excess pastries onto his uncle, to sell at his tea shop. he never sells out of this stuff

Sokka, charmed by this blushy, grumpy guy, asks “so are you going to be here next weekend?”

“yeah, I’m always here.” he’s looking down to hide how red his face has gotten. “there’s going to be orange-chocolate babka next week. I’m testing a new recipe.”

and Sokka just absolutely lights up, he’s so fucking pumped. “oh my god, man. I will be here.”

and, to Zuko’s surprise, he is. early this time, with a totally empty canvas bag. “I wanted to get here first in case you ran out,” he explains, accepting his loaf of orange-chocolate babka.

“yeah, well. like I said, we don’t usually run out.”

“that’s kind of a travesty,” says Sokka. “I could eat this for the rest of my life.”

and like a flirtier version of himself has somehow possessed his body, Zuko says “well. if you really wanted to, we could make it happen.”

and Sokka’s eyes go wide, but he recovers immediately and says “absolutely. as long as I can taste test all the pastries.”

Zuko can feel his ears go bright red while he aimlessly rearranges some baskets of berries, and says “okay. sounds like a deal. I’m not testing any pastry right now. so maybe I can see how good your taste buds are over coffee?”

and Sokka plays right along, smiling wide with all his teeth and his eyes crinkled nearly shut. “I’ll come back once I’ve done the rest of the grocery shopping. I’ll take you to my favorite cafe.”

and he does. and Zuko is pretty ready to spend the rest of his life with a dedicated pastry taste-tester.

[madyxtothemax]

The Pit Stop - Part One with @MyArrowBends

Atticus: 

-After a few days, the roads and sights began to blur together. Each truck stop was the same. The coffee all tasted the same and the bathrooms were all equally disgusting. I had enjoyed the solitude at first, but was now beginning to get a little stir crazy, and despite having bought a thicker foam for the bed, it still wasn’t the greatest sleep I’d ever had. 

As I crossed into California, I found myself craving human interaction, and more important than that, I had decided one way or another I would be sleeping in an actual bed tonight. As I gassed up at another same looking, shitty coffee making gas station, I didn’t bother checking google for any nearby hotels, figuring I’d stop when I grew tired and see what was close at that point. 

The hours passed and the sun was inching down toward the horizon with a speed that my van couldn’t seem to match. Dusk had settled and on the horizon I could see a cluster of lights that belonged to a city. I wasn’t sure which one it was, it didn’t matter. I had stopped paying attention to the names at this point since I didn’t really have a destination in mind. I would know when I was ready to stop and until I felt that feeling, I’d keep driving west. 

As the city lights grew closer, that same feeling of from earlier in the day returned. I was ready to find a motel for the night, maybe even somewhere I could grab a drink and a greasy burger. The potential for brief human interaction had a grin pulling the corners of my lips up. 

Still, I avoided searching something out on my phone, wanting to see what I could find on my own. Exiting off the freeway, and making my way toward the city, my eyes searched the buildings as I passed them by. Disappointingly, nothing much seemed to be open...at least nothing that grabbed my attention or sparked any interest. I wanted to find something local, I wasn’t interested in any kind of franchise. Those places were not geared toward any kind of interaction, speed and efficiency was their purpose. 

Finally after a few turns bringing me deeper into the city, I spotted a neon sign. The bright OPEN flashing in the door was the only invitation I needed. Admittedly, I wasn’t paying proper attention because I was still needing to keep an eye on the road, but as I pulled my van over to the sidewalk and looked up at the sign to fully read it, I couldn’t stop my laughter as it filled the quiet around me. 

A tattoo shop. 

I was not a collector of skin art, even though I liked it, I had never really felt a desire or pull to permanently mark my body with any sort of image. But I could see people inside, and I could go in and look around. I could get that human interaction I was craving even if I had zero intentions of getting a tattoo. Yeah. I could do that. 

Twisting the key in the ignition to turn off the engine, I unbuckled my seatbelt and made my way toward the door, noting the time on the door before opening it. I paused to check the time on my phone...they weren’t too far from closing. Perfect. Just enough time to have myself a casual conversation with someone about something I’d never follow through on before finding myself some food and a bed to sleep on.-

Madyx:

<I’d woken with it, the unshakable intuition alerting me that something was on the way. Something for me to attend to. Something significant. Someone to benefit from my unique abilities. Something to shake up the doldrums of a monotonous wave of months. 

As the hours in the day had passed like any other with a few window shoppers, bookings and not much more, whatever I had been anticipating hadn’t materialized. My intuition wasn’t normally so off, in fact I momentarily wondered if I’d pissed off the wrong people and lost my privileges. But, nah, I couldn’t shake it, even as the hours ticked down to less than fifteen minutes before the neon went dark. 

Having just finished with the people who’d shown up to book a session with Jordan, I was relegated to the idea I’d served as a glorified personal assistant for the day. Hell, I hadn’t even done a single piercing, let alone expressed anything in ink. At least Jordan would be pleased with what I’d lined up for her; a lot of people looking to lose their memories and oh-so-many willing to accept whatever consequences came with those choices.

I had my back turned as the group of three left, the bell chiming their exit. Oddly, the shop didn’t feel empty; I wasn’t alone after all. 

Turning, I was unsurprised to see a guy had wandered in just as the others had left. First impression was strong: he looked road weary, like he’d been places, but he wasn’t weighted by fatigue - nope. He wore whatever travels he’d been on with an earnestness. He wasn’t unkempt, but it looked like he hadn’t had a shave in a few days, and there was nothing that could have been done to conceal that he was damn gorgeous. I’d need to see more skin to know if there was any ink hidden under the clothes, and there were no visible piercings… visible being the operative word… 

Right.

I detoured my thoughts from veering in the direction of the gutter and noted the feeling that surfaced during the day had morphed into something more tangible. 

Well then.

I walked his way, which conveniently enough, was in the direction of the sign that was about to go dark. He, whoever he was, already had an unspoken invitation to stay as long as he liked.> 

Hey man, anything I can help you with? 

Atticus: 

-As I stood at the door, hand gripping the handle while sliding my phone into my back pocket, I looked up in time to see three people headed my way. I swung the door open and held it for them, offering an easy smile as they passed and spoke with an excitement I suddenly realized I wanted to feel. Seeing it on others left me no choice but to notice that I was heavily lacking that type of emotion in my own life. Sure, I had bought my van and felt the excitement and when I hit the road, it was there. But it was surface level excitement. 

I wanted to feel the rush of doing something impactful in my life. I still wanted to have some kind of human contact, and while my opinion and lack of desire to ink my skin hadn’t changed in the thirty seconds it took for me to hold a door open and walk inside the shop, I was definitely more open to suggestions. 

The guy who was working had his back to me. That was fine, he was busy and I had all the time in the world to wait to be noticed. Rather than doing something obnoxious like clearing my throat, I turned and began to look at the flash on the walls. Each page was neatly framed and hung with obvious care. Not a single one was off kilter. It made me smile. Anyone who paid this much attention to detail truly cared about what they did. I was envious of their passion.

I didn’t even have artwork that had hung on the walls in my office back in New York. Maybe if I had, my attitude toward being stuck behind a desk all day would have improved. Likely not. 

As I scanned a page filled with anchors, ships and pinup girls, a voice was directed at me. I had been so lost in my head, I forgot my entire reason for stepping into a shop I had no business being in. Turning my attention on the guy, I paused at his question. Shit. Instant attraction. I couldn’t remember the last time that had ever happened. My dick twitched as if to say, SURPRISE I still work! I felt completely disarmed. A fraud. An imposter. I couldn’t help the laugh that was two parts guilt and one part eagerness. 

“...anything I can help you with…”

Was there anything he could help me with? ...yes there certainly was, but I really didn’t want to admit that or what my initial reaction to him had been. My eyes searched his face first and then his gaze as it remained on me. His eyes were warm and welcoming the way my beloved hoodie felt each time I put it on. 

I was taking too long to answer but he didn’t seem to mind considering I was one of those assholes who showed up 15 minutes before closing. Remembering my entire reason for coming in here, to have a conversation with someone, I lifted my hand to the frame on the wall I had been looking at and grinned lazily at him, one side slightly higher than the other as I answered his question with one of my own.- Do you know who drew these? 

Madyx:

<The closer I got, the better my last call was looking. He appeared to be admiring what he saw on the wall which was a lift to my confidence after a day of nada. I was starting to pick up on the energy he was throwing off, and it was coming through strong. He was rife with a quiet excitement, like he was flirting with epiphanies and on the edge of taking chances. I was feeling it on a vibration much higher than my norm. Instant clarity. I relaxed into myself after his arrival helped me shake that unrequited anticipation I’d battled all day.  

When his eyes flicked off the art on the wall to me, I was ill prepared. His steel-blue irises were rimmed in navy, and subtly backlit; his gaze flecked with mischief. The cut of his jaw was a visual temptation outfitted with an infuriatingly attractive amount of scruff. His laugh broke me out of my preoccupation. It was telling, but only thanks to my extra sensory skills. 

His grin though… that was what slayed me where I stood. Crooked and slow, even stretched his lips were full and fetching.  Literally, I couldn’t have hand-picked the features of my non-type type more perfectly. He was exactly what I liked in a guy, at least physically. 

The lift of his hand to indicate the frame on the wall brought up my stare. A confident grin preceded my answer.>  

That would be me. But those are some of my more generic samples. I’ve got a book you can check if you’re in the market. Unless you’ve already got something specific in mind? 

<My eyes raked shamelessly up and down his body, taking stock of the canvas, before heading home to his eyes. I didn’t have to wonder if the charge I was feeling between us was legit. I knew it. If he had come for some ink and a fuck, I’d be happy to indulge his pleasure, even if it wasn’t in store for me… there’s no way I wouldn’t enjoy it.> 

Atticus: 

-The weight of this guy’s stare left me feeling some kind of way. At first, I thought I might be getting one of those he’s into you vibes, but then he answered my question and doubt began to creep back in. Maybe he was one of those people who were far too perceptive and he could smell the scent of wannabe all over me. 

No, I didn’t have anything in mind. I wasn’t interested in getting a tattoo, which was how I felt before I opened the door. I just wanted to have a conversation. Seemed the only way for me to do that without him getting annoyed that I was wasting his time so close to the end of the day was to keep looking at his work. I could do that, wanted to, actually. 

I shook my head, answering as honestly and non-committal as possible as his gaze hit me with a pointed once over. All right. I knew that look. I had given it out a time or two myself. I felt more confident as I found my voice again.- 

No. I don’t have anything specific in mind. I’m not exactly the type to just fill my skin with ink. -I paused and considered how my words sounded then quickly added to it so as not to insult the guy who clearly had no problem filling his own skin with ink which I suddenly wanted to check out every bit of.- I mean, not without research, that is. I’d love to see your book. 

-As he guided me to where a few different books sat on top of the glass countertop, I noticed each one had a different name on the spine. The one he gave me said Madyx. I grinned at him again and flipped open the cover. There were pages of photos of tattoos done on people. Some pages had drawings, too, and I took my time looking at each one. The silence between us was comfortable and easy. When my eyes landed on a particularly colourful image that took up someone’s entire back I paused to study it.- Wow. This one must have taken quite a while. Your work is incredible, Madyx. 

-I chanced a glance his way as I said his name so he knew I wasn’t just blowing smoke up his ass, before looking back down and flipping another page. I was beginning to feel like I was leading him on knowing I wasn’t going to be in town long enough to commit any kind of time like that, even if I did want ink. Which in the three minutes since I last asked myself, still hadn’t changed. I couldn’t pull the trigger on something that permanent. Plus, a tattoo that large would have taken more than one session, I knew that much. As I shifted from foot to foot, trying to figure out how to let him know I was sorry to have wasted his time, the light caught something below the glass counter. It was a showcase of sorts filled with what I assumed was body jewelry. My stomach lurched and adrenaline surged through my veins. I’d always been interested in getting a piercing, maybe...it was far less permanent than ink and wouldn’t take even a fraction of time.- 

Do you only do tattoos? -Sliding the book to the side a little, I checked out the display of hardware with more than the curious interest I had previously given to his artwork.- 

Madyx:

<Gorgeous seemed to be stalling. I sensed a reluctance I couldn’t quite define. I was starting to think it was definitely his first time, or maybe he was just feeling out the idea. BULLSEYE. He admitted as much by answering that he wasn’t the type to fill his skin with ink, but I wasn’t offended, nope. His eyes seemed to reflexively land on my own collection of pieces, and I wanted to invite him to gawk with those blues all he wanted. 

I didn’t care if he didn’t want any work only that it might end up in him leaving sooner rather than later. I was not down with that. I almost missed when he caught his self-perceived fuck up, but was nearly punch-drunk when he took me up on the offer to check out my book. Normally I wouldn’t waste someone’s time if they weren’t actually intent on letting me scratch my artistic itch, but he didn’t seem in a hurry to leave and, duh, same page. 

I handed off the book and he seemed to be truly checking it out. There was an excitement for me, one I hadn’t quite tasted. It was a thousand flavors, custom made...meant for me. Yeah, this was hitting way below the epidermis, into the bone, and below the belt, too. When he stopped on the page he did, my gut twisted in the best way, he just so happened to land on the favorite piece I’d ever laid down in ink. It had been inspired by Klimt’s “The Kiss” per the patron’s request, but with several liberties worked into the artistic elements. Instead of an obscure male and female, it was clearly two males. It had morphed from a symbolist piece to something more sci-fi and steampunk.  There were three dimensional aspects and an inordinate amount of intricate details, like any provoking piece, it begged look after look. In total it had taken 36 hours in six sessions. I would have got lost thinking about it if something else hadn’t caught my attention - my name. The intention in his tone was unmistakable. Now we were getting somewhere.

I didn’t even care that we didn’t discuss that tatt he’d stopped on, it was logged into the distant past when his attention shifted to the display of body jewelry. I walked to the opposite side of the counter, light shining up from the backlit case, we were closer to face to face and hell-to-the-yes; I saw the change in his posture. We were REALLY getting somewhere. 

I handle the piercings, too. <clearing the space of the books for the full view> But before we get to that, we need to level the playing field. Got a name or should I just call you gorgeous? 

Atticus:

-Generally speaking, I was not always very quick to pick up the cues when someone was flirting with me. It usually took a couple of are they or aren’t they moments before I caught on and then properly joined in on the exchange of the flirting game. Tonight it only took me two of those moments. First when I caught sight of him looking me over and then again, just now when he called me gorgeous. 

My grin at Madyx was instant and interested as I answered, holding out my hand to him for a shake, as proper dudes do.- Atticus. 

-When his hand slid into mine, I gave it a solid squeeze, and chanced a light brush of my thumb over the back of his before releasing it. His hand was warm and slightly rough on the palm, not at all unpleasant, the kind of hand that knew how to do hard work and wasn’t afraid of it. Not at all like my paper-pushing, then couch lazing hands. The most work mine had been doing lately had been flicking a signal indicator for left and right. 

As I returned my attention back to the display of body jewelry, I briefly thought about the other places I might enjoy the rough grip of his hands and damn near groaned. My dick was more than on board and before I could pitch any kind of tents of embarrassment, I considered piercing the damn thing just to get it to go back down. As far as ideas one might think about to initiate a cooling down effect on their body, this one should have worked for bringing my semi back to completely flaccid. Should have. 

It didn’t. 

The more I imagined Madyx jamming a needle through my most sensitive flesh, the more my pulse quickened and the more I discovered that I liked the idea. Fuck. Guess my body had decided for me. I now only needed to man up and tell the guy what I wanted. Vocalization time. If I couldn’t ask for the damn piercing, I did not deserve to have his hands on me, and that, judging by the sinking pit my stomach had just become was not at all what I wanted. 

Given how everything else I had done since rolling into this town has been on impulse decision making, I let my mouth run without much consultation with my brain, and hoped for the best.-

I’d like to be handled. -Welp. That was a wide open innuendo of his own words that couldn’t be taken back now. Guess I wasn’t going with my usual subtle approach, then again, nothing about this encounter was close to my usual.- A piercing, maybe two? Do you have time tonight? I noticed the sign said you were closing right away. I can always come back tomorrow if you need to close up and get out of here... 

-I wouldn’t keep him if he had somewhere else to be, but I really didn’t want to wait until tomorrow, I was too afraid of losing my nerve or even worse, waking up having decided I suddenly wanted an entire back piece devoted to body piercings. I shuddered at that particular thought before shaking my head, waiting to see if he was game for some over time before I even broached the topic of where I wanted him to pierce me.-     

Madyx:

<There was the grin again, but this one drew me in like it was baited with something addictive. I wanted a taste. I also wanted to hear him say my name again, that was until he told me his. 

 Atticus. 

As if I wasn’t already in deep shit with the grin, he had to go and share a name with one of my favorite literary characters. I wanted to roll it around in my brain on a loop, then say it out loud so I could see how it would feel in the slide off my tongue.  I swallowed thickly and dropped my hand into the one he offered for a shake, setting off a chain reaction I had in no way expected. 

Our hands fit like they belonged to each other, his warmth matched mine but his skin was smoother, more pliant. My eyes hit his just as I felt the subtle stroke of his thumb on mine. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and an electrifying buzz scaled my spine, then split and radiated north, east, south and west. My heart started to race in an erratic beat against my rib cage. When heat balled in my gut and prickled along the underside of my dick, it finally registered what was going on. Pleasure had always been my gift, but I had only played delivery boy and spectator so I hadn’t immediately recognized my receptivity. And it was specifically something about him…. I could feel his desire commingling with mine, the energy and tension between us behaving like a magnet...SNAP. 

Shit. For the first time in my life I was on the other side of the glass I’d always looked through. He was human, it shouldn’t be possible, but his singular, innocent touch had been undeniably thrill inducing. My mind and body were both fully engaged. If it wasn’t for the loss of his hand and his next words, I probably would have stood there in silence like a mooning asshat…. Lost in his eyes and all that.

But, HELLO, he wanted to be handled. I crossed my arms casually over my chest and couldn’t suppress the sideways smirk that came on quick. I’d handle him all he wanted, and with curiosity layering on top of the attraction to him, I wasn’t going to be shy. 

I kept getting hit with solid signals from him, they were unlike anything I’d ever felt, and somehow I knew he was also outside of his norm, but completely natural.  My attention perked when he brought up piercings and something about coming back tomorrow. 

Time to perish that thought. 

Shaking my head, I dropped my hands in a wide sprawl on the display case, leaning towards him.> 

I’ve got the time and my place is just upstairs. So what do you want, Atticus? <The question was meant to be overt and open ended. And if I loved learning his name… saying it packed a thousand times the punch.>  And for the record, I’d love to handle you. <It was shameless and I was not at all sorry.>

Atticus:

-He lived upstairs...I laughed at the immediate thoughts that came to mind then shook my head slowly, speaking quickly before he could get any kind of insulted.- 

Seems for the moment we are neighbours, Madyx. -The hand that had just held his, because of course I would now be differentiating my hands by whether or not they had touched him, lifted and I thumbed over my shoulder to my van parked out front. As his eyes moved to where I had indicated, I stared at the way his lips curved up at the corners and my fingers twitched at my sides wanting nothing more than to touch him again. 

Since it was generally frowned upon to yank a guy I’d just met over the counter and kiss him without giving him any kind of forewarning or chance to stop me, I cleared my throat and attempted to redirect my wayward thoughts back to what we had been talking about. He’d asked me a question and the proper thing to do was answer it. What did I want? 

I knew what I wanted… HIM. But that wasn’t what he’d been asking no matter HOW suggestive his voice had sounded to my ears.

In my early twenties I had looked into piercings, researched all the types and varieties a guy could get as a means of using the knowledge to impress this one chick I had liked when I overheard her talking about how hot guys who had them were. It even worked, up to a point. Turned out, simply knowing about piercings was much different than actually having them, and when she discovered I didn’t actually have any, her interest in me wavered and she quickly moved on. At that point, I didn’t see the need to get anything done since I had started out wanting to impress her, my intentions had been shallow, and lacked the intent to follow through. But now...now, my intentions were less fueled with wanting to impress someone I was attracted to and more about self-discovery. 

Tonight, the idea of getting a piercing made me feel more alive than I had in years. It was the right reason to pull the trigger on this. The gut churning excitement was the same I felt when I had called the number on the FOR SALE sign that had been hanging on the window the day I decided to buy my van. I was immediately grateful to the chick of my early twenties for having inspired me to do all that research, even if her rejection had been a blow to my fragile, immature ego. 

Was I being impulsive now? Absolutely. But I already knew I wouldn’t regret this which was why without any uncertainty colouring my voice, my gaze found Madyx’s and I grinned confidently as I told him exactly what I wanted.-

I’d like the first two rungs of Jacob’s Ladder. 

-I knew what I was asking for, and I hoped like hell the nickname for frenum piercings hadn’t changed in the years since I had done all that research. If it had, I fully expected him to laugh in my face and tell me to get my wannabe ass the hell out. I held my breath, and counted the thuds of my pulse as they wooshed in my ears feeling less and less confident in my answer as the seconds passed by that it took him to speak.- 

Madyx:

<There were several impulsive words trying to fly off my tongue, but I was biding my time. I glanced past him when he indicated he was my neighbor, noting the tell tale silhouette of his VW bus. Currently nomadic, likely sleeping on a less than comfy mattress in the name of experience.  The mentality someone must possess to live on impulse was a turn on, and it worked in my favor. Without knowing it, he was feeding me information and arming my artillery with all kinds of weapons to extend the night…because without explanation, I just wanted more with him. More time. More touch. MORE. 

Atticus was setting off signals like flares in a moonless night, the attraction was undeniably mutual. I knew it, but did he? He would, I wasn’t letting him out of my company without shooting my shot. . My sensory grid was lighting up in a bright spectrum of greens, this was something fae only experienced in the rarest of circumstances. I knew what it meant but couldn’t delve into all that mythology on the spot. 

Fuck that. I was just going to go with it. 

And then he said it. What he wanted. 

I knew there was more by the way his eyes flicked over my lips and the unequivocal energy that told me he was using restraint. 

My brows shot up in reaction. My grin stretched a little wider. My dick bucked in my jeans clearly in support of this development. I toed the line of professionalism in my day to day operations, but this was beyond that. I couldn’t stop thinking about getting his cock out of his pants. With a casual swipe of my tongue between my lips, I opened the case, pulling out the options so we could get down to business. I knew he wasn’t going to run. I’d bet on it.>

You have piercings I can’t see? Or do I get first honors? 

<fingering a few of the barbells to draw his eyes down, even though I loved the heat of them on me> Are you thinking the same size for each? Or a descending size?  Grooved balls? <I smirked, couldn’t help it>  Smooth? 

We’ll get to gauge when I see what we’re working with, Atticus. 

<I loved his name too fucking much and still wanted to say it a thousand different ways just to know how it felt on my tongue, lips and in every incarnation. And yeah, I wanted him to know I had his dick on my mind, front and center. With every tick of the second hand, the tension was on the rise, and I was thriving in anticipation of reaching the breaking point.>

Atticus:

-Just as my lungs were beginning to burn for fresh oxygen, he spoke, and I exhaled slowly, controlling myself from letting out a sigh of relief so as not to let on how unsure of myself I had been feeling. There was no laughter or smirking from him that told me I had used an outdated slang. Excellent. I was starting to feel less and less like a poser with each follow up question he asked. He was very clearly taking my request seriously though I was not blind to the less than subtle moments of flirtation he was allowing to slip out with each exchange between us. And I was about to let him see my dick. I almost laughed. I held it in. Barely. 

It was my turn to speak. Right, he needed answers. I could give those. With a grin and a rub of my hands together I chuckled as I got the first question squared away.- No. I don’t have any other piercings. You’re my first, Mad. 

-My eyes dropped down to the tray of hardware he removed from the display case, ears working overtime to hear each of his rapid fire queries that I was delayed in noticing I had already shortened his name from Madyx to Mad. Both suited him, but if he was about to get face up in my junk without it being sexual I figured it was all right for me to shorten his name without expressed permission, that was how nicknames were supposed to happen anyway.- 

Size. I hadn’t really considered that when I went and got overzealous with my request for two piercings. -Laughing low, my eyes moved between the various sizes of barbells he was showing me before making up my mind with ease.- 

I want them to be the same. As far as accessories go, I’m a bit of a minimalist and the idea of gradually increasing seems a bit pompous if not arrogant to me. I can only imagine the size needed at the base if I went and got the great idea to complete the ladder. FUCK. -A shudder of regret for future me shot down my spine then ricocheted straight into the tip of my dick. All previous arousal swifty vacated my body and in a hurry. Decision made.- Yeah. definitely the same size. And smooth. 

I also know enough from my research ages ago to know I won’t be looking to stretch out the gauge, either. No matter how fast these particular piercings tend to heal, I don’t want my dick to become a branch of a Christmas tree, sagging under the weight of a too heavy ornament. God, can you even imagine?! -The mental images that began to fill my mind had me laughing again.- Otherwise, any other decisions needing made, I will heed to your expert opinion. 

Madyx:

<I caught his exhale and something about it felt like he was relieved, as if he’d just confessed a long held desire for the first time, and maybe I wasn’t so off the mark as he answered that I was his first. I didn’t have time for a smart ass remark about popping his cherry because of what he said right after. 

Mad. He called me Mad. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, as if a hand had ghosted upwards, calling it to attention. The sensation carried up into my scalp, and even to the tips of my ears. How was it that something so damn simple was so affecting with him? It wasn’t the first time since he walked in my shop, and the longer he stayed, the more I was convinced there was more of it in store.

I took him in as he weighed his options out loud, none of his choices surprising me. I figured he’d want something understated,  but I didn’t want to assume out loud and then have him reveal his elaborate plans for a rainbow ladder with alternating barbells down the back of his cock. That would have been a grave mistake! 

I laughed my ass off when he referenced a Christmas tree sagging under the weight of a heavy ornament from sizing up the gauges, unable to stop myself.>

If the piercings look like too heavy ornaments and your dick a limp tree after piercings, then someone doesn’t know shit about shit when it comes to proper technique. 

You’re in good hands, Atticus. I promise you that. <I flicked my eyes up to hopefully catch his, and thankfully I didn’t miss my target.> First, proper frenum piercings need to hit at the right depth to avoid that unfortunate look. Second, and counterintuitively, because of the skin, we’ll want to use a heavier gauge. With a lighter weight, during the healing process, it would push towards the surface, also resulting in the wrong appearance and a damn inconvenient dangling effect that could lead to unfortunate zipping incidents. 

<Laughing, it was a feat to drop my eyes from his as I started selecting options to suit his taste>

You’ll want to consider width dependent on your head. Sight unseen, I think this brushed steel goes with your vibe. 

You also have options when it comes to the size of the balls. <smirking, I laid a few out> You don’t have to decide standing here, we’ll bring them over to my station and you can see what looks right to you. 

You ready? Need a beer? Something stronger?  <My mouth on your cock to ease any nerves? I kept that last one on lockdown, lifting a brow, as I anxiously waited for his reply>

Atticus:

-My previously lost arousal was swiftly returning, and reaching tenting trouble territory when Madyx promised I’d be in good hands. Wouldn’t I just love to be in his hands. I stared at them while he sorted through the barbells, selecting some he thought would work. Long fingers, nimble and sure in their movements. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Now was not the time to learn I had a kink for hands, I’d never felt that way before, maybe they were just his hands I was lusting after, particularly when paired with this whole conversation that felt heavy with an undercurrent of attraction. I couldn’t deny it was flowing in both directions. He was making it pretty obvious, where I would have normally brushed it off as him being friendly in the beginning, I’d have to be blind to not see it now. I was damn sure seeing it. 

Things were about to get very awkward if I didn’t get control over my body. I was a magnet drawn to a piece of metal, desperate to move closer, to obtain that satisfying click when the connection was finally made. 

What was my life right now? 

How could, of all the places I decided to stop on a whim have this guy right here, and have this kind of mutual attraction happen so effortlessly. I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt that way toward someone and have them return it. Years, for sure. Many years. My eye was not exactly particular, it checked out chicks and dudes equally, but it took a lot to make me want a second glance.  

Then he had to go and talk about ball sizing while smirking at me. I was starting to suspect he was playing with me. Cat toying with a mouse. Taunting my dick with his innuendo, coaxing it to come out of hiding and play his game. Did I want to? DUH. There was no denying how much I wanted to do just that. 

But how does one go from piercing consultation to...Hey, you give me a boner, wanna hook up? Yeah…..no. He was hot, and there was no doubt in my mind that he was hit on all the time. Likely every day. I was certain of it. I didn’t want to be just some lame customer who was looking for an after hours special with the good looking tattoo shop guy. 

Could I be any more of a cliche. I prided myself on being nothing of the sort...well I kind of was with my current on trend living in a van and travelling lifestyle. The only points working in my favour there was that I hadn’t documented a single moment of it outside of the memories in my mind. I wasn’t the next Van Guy with the Instagram worthy morning shots overlooking the ocean while holding a cup of coffee and casually displaying my abs for more likes. A thirst trap, I was not. I had higher standards than that. 

Questions were being sent my way. Was I ready? What a loaded thing to ask, I laughed and hoped it didn’t sound as choked off to him as it did to my ears.- Yes. I’m ready. I’m good on the beer, for now. I think. 

-I laughed again, this time it felt a little looser passing over my lips and I looked down at the tray of jewelry once more then looked back up at him, eyes finding his. Before I could stop myself, words tumbled out without much control over the content or how they’d be received, now was not the time to have shame or embarrassment, I needed to know if the situation in my jeans could be salvaged.- I once read that when getting dick tattoos, you had to be hard the whole time. Is the same true for piercings? 

Madyx:

<The energy smacking me around was nothing I’d ever come across. Fuck. It was inexplicably intense, like we were plugged into each other and exchanging a charge. I was still mind-blown by what he was putting out. His subconscious and deep-seated pleasures were stimulating mine, as if they were dependent on one another. When I caught moments of him looking at me, my body reacted and my heart was thumping, driven by the physical and not so physical. I shut-up the internal analysis as much as I could and focused on what was in front of me. 

Atticus was definitely anticipating, his excitement laced with nervousness inciting my extra fae receptors into overdrive. He covered pretty well, but his flustered laugh made me want to drop my jeans on the spot. I was stoked he’d declined the drink, especially since he’d slipped with the “for now.” Bingo. That was enough to confirm he wasn’t looking to bolt after I got up and personal with his cock. 

The jewelry out, I let my attention land squarely back on him while he entertained what I’d displayed. It gave me a chance to scope the strong, lithe line of his back, and the sharp cut of his scruffed jaw. Hell, with every fresh recognition of his attributes, his hotness was intensifying right along with my craving for a thorough taste. While I had this fuck-me revelation, he was quiet, probably thinking about the dual-punctures I was about to put through his cock.  I knew something was coming but the smirk that happened when he asked his question could not be helped.>

I’d like to see someone keep it hard through an entire inking. It only needs to be up for the stencil portion of the tattoo, after that there are creative ways to stretch a dick for the shading. As for you… <pursing my lips then rubbing them together> I’ll get the job done either way, as long as I can pinch the skin, I can pierce it. Generally, there’s more to work with when it’s not at attention. Chew on that and follow me.

 <My smirk widened just before I broke eye contact and grabbed the tray of jewelry.  Cocking my head in the direction of my station and the chair that would have him slightly reclined when he planted ass in it. I set the tray down and waited for him to get situated while I snapped on my gloves. When I turned around,shit, my eyes went straight south where it was hard to miss what was happening behind his zipper and before I could blow it, my eyes shot back to his. I couldn’t seem to stop doing that. I also couldn’t repress the urge to set him at ease and give him something to grab onto during this prelude to a pierce. 

Playing it cool, casual, intent on finessing my approach, I took a seat on my stool, which kept us at eye level with one another. I knew he wanted this in my bones, but I was feeling the nerves from the risk of it. I stepped over the edge and took the cliff dive, the words passing over my lips as I felt a rush from the free fall.> How about you don’t leave after we’re done with business. <It was a question, but the way it came out sounded more like a statement. Unintentional. Organic. Assured. I dropped my eyes to his cock before they raked back up his body...to his suckable throat...his full lips...and back home to his grey-blue eyes.>

Atticus: 

-“Chew on that and follow me.” Shit. He knew. He had to. There was no way he couldn’t tell I was already sporting wood. When he turned his back to me and headed to his station, I tried to chill myself the fuck out. Naturally my eyes landed on his ass and the fire that was in my veins ignited to an inferno and I knew there would be no way to get the blood to vacate my cock. This was going to be embarrassing for at least one of us in a couple of moments. 

Did it matter though? I was just passing through town, at least that had been the plan when I entered the shop. I came in here looking for a conversation with another person and now I was about to leave with some metal accessories. I shook my head as I took a seat on the chair he wanted me in and took a few deeper breaths trying to slow the thundering of my heart. 

I wasn’t shy about my body, never had been, but damn if I wasn’t worried about how he’d react when he took notice that I was more than eager to have his hands on me. Could I explain it away with a joke about being a masochist? Maybe, but it wasn’t true, not by the definition of the word. 

As I spent precious time fretting in my mind he had turned around from setting down the tray and...YEP. I watched as Mad got himself an eyeful and like the professional I already figured he was, his gaze moved right past my crotch and straight up to my face. 

He didn’t laugh. Or smile or even make a comment. The flirting that had been so natural halted. I didn’t know what to do with that. I was suddenly feeling overheated in my hoodie while worry about insulting him began to cycle through my mind, of course that was when things started to chill out for me in trouser tent town. I reconsidered the whole masochist angle again just to try and break the silence but shook my head to myself. It wouldn’t matter in a day or two or a week. I’d carry on with my drive and he’d have a story to tell his coworkers tomorrow. I was fine being a laughable story. 

Before I could find something casual to say, he sucker punched me with that line of staying after he was done and I briefly wondered if he was trying to throw me a bone because he felt sorry for me. I didn’t think so. The tension between us had been palpable from the start. I nodded at his non-question.- Yeah. I’d like that. Though we both know you already know that I would. 

-I laughed low as his eyes did another sweep and the previously cooling jets fired right back up again. Jesus. When did I become a thirteen year old boy seeing his first dirty magazine. I reached up behind my neck as I sat forward in the chair and pulled my hoodie off over my head, draping it on the arm of my chair, leaving me in my well worn white tee that was underneath. 

There was no point in trying to hide shit, the elephant in the room had been noticed, spoken about and well acknowledged, not to mention Mad was about to shake hands with the trunk. I blew out a breath, feeling all embarrassment sliding away as easily as I had taken off my hoodie, and grinned at him.- Let’s get to you shoving some needles through my family jewels so we can have that beer you mentioned.

[stardustskz]

It Just Is

pairings: seungmin x reader

word count: 4.8k

warnings: mentions of anxiety, language, description loaded (i think?)

genre: fluff (?), angst

description: Han Jisung begged you to drive him to somewhere and you didn’t expect to see familiar faces that caused some of your ‘forbidden’ memories to resurface.

note: i don’t really know what this is but, it’ll be a waste to let it sit in my drafts forever. also, this may or may not have a second part

There are missing items in your life that you have longed to look for. The ocean blue cardigan that you used to wear frequently during seventh grade, which you don’t quite remember if you have misplaced it around the house or your mom already donated it somewhere else. That one decorative pen that you loved to use for your writings whether you take notes during class or cram your Petrarchan sonnet that is due the next day. The Minnie mouse keyring that your grade school best friend gave you as a present when their family visited Singapore that you valued a lot until one day it wasn’t hanging by the zipper of your backpack anymore. These things that you lost in a fraction of time without even knowing that they’ll be gone from your sight for the entirety of your life, they once became your comfort. The warmth of your cardigan whenever you’re cold from the harsh morning breeze on your way to your school. The grasp of that certain pen when you scribble your notes in a hurry before the teacher moves to the next slide of her presentation. The familiarity of seeing that pink dotted ribbon hanging on your backpack, indicating that it’s yours. They all have been a fabric of your being, a part of you. Well, that is until you lose them.

You scanned through the piles of paper on your desk, trying to find your sharpener to finally finish the title block of your plate. You mumbled a few series of curses as you glanced at the clock. It was already 9:51 in the evening and this plate that you’re currently doing is due at midnight. Screw your stupid alarm clock for not waking you up when you swore that you have set it at 1:00pm. You hurriedly sharpened your pencil a second after you found it underneath your history book as you heard an obnoxious knock from the door. You chose to ignore it and moments after, you hear it open following your brother’s annoying voice,

“Y/n!! Your plate looks wonderful!” 

“What do you want, Jisung?” you groaned in annoyance as you already know that certain tone of his.

“Help me get to Hyunjin’s tonight” Jisung answered which made you turn around from your drafting to face him.

“It’s the third party this week, don’t you have any other stuff to do?” you asked him with a hint of concern, but your tone failed you as it sounded like your usual nagging.

“Well, first of all, we’re of the same age, you don’t have to scold me,” you glared at him for his a-matter-of-fact answer.

“Second, I’m not an architecture student like you.” He then stuck his tongue out in an attempt to annoy you even more. 

“Well first of all, Han Jisung, that was so fucking mature of you,” you retorted mocking his dramatic voice and turning your head again to your desk before continuing,

“Second, I won’t help you–” 

“Yeah? Then I’ll tell mom that you haven’t been doing the dishes for two nights now.” And that made you turn your gaze again to your brother who grinned as he successfully caught your attention, again.

“Screw you, we had a deal.” You told him as you faced your plate again, Han fucking Jisung can wait.

“Wait until I finish my plate then I’ll drive you there.” You heard Jisung celebrate in joy as he lied flat on your bed, patiently waiting for you to finish.

You see, even though you are twins and you practically share the same birthday, you grew up owning the title of being born a minute earlier than Jisung. This resulted in your parents seeing you as the more responsible one than your twin. It added up to the fact that you and Jisung are polar opposites when it came to your personalities. Let’s just say that he’s the more outgoing one and you’re more of the type to lock yourself up in your room all day. 

“Is it a huge party?” you asked Jisung from the passenger seat of your mom’s beloved mini van that was now yours to drive around. 

“Not really, it’s just the inner circle this time” he said as you stopped for a red traffic light.

“I’ll just wait for you in the car then.” You answered him with a nod of understanding.

“No, that will be horrible y/n, why would you wait in the car? It’s cold.”

You looked at him meaningfully before turning your gaze at the road again as the traffic light already turned green. Jisung immediately got why you were stern on staying inside of the car instead of bonding with him and your circle of friends, well, some of them.

“What’s wrong with being with him in the same room? It’s not like you’ll be forced to talk to him.” He explained, his voice laced with concern and worry that you may be upset with him for having this conversation.

“I don’t know Jisung…” you mumbled as you turned to the right corner, finally entering the village where Hyunjin lives.

“You are good friends y/n” Jisung whispered, looking outside of the window as the car passed by the familiar set of houses that he remembers by heart.

“We were good friends, Jisung” you answered, already pulling up in front of Hwang's porch.

“Then what went wrong?”

What went wrong? That question rang in your head with the consistent wave of various emotions as you took notice of the person by the house’s entrance.

Ever since you were a kid, you’ve always had this poor memory skills. This is the reason why you often misplace your things that leads to losing them. However, there’s this one kid that helped you with that problem. 

It was during your fourth grade in middle school when you first met him. It was that one particular day that went totally wrong as you fought with your brother early in the morning  because he’s being an annoying little prick and woke you up yelling your name, which you hated a lot by the way, and your day got even more sour when your teacher passed the module of mathematical problems and you seem to have lost your pen, seeing to it that it wasn’t inside your mustard yellow pencil case. You know that you’re screwed specially when 15 minutes into answering the module, you still have no pen to write and solve with. Because first, it may sound miserable, but you have no friends and second, your pride stood still, refusing to talk to Jisung even when you clearly needed help.

The moment that your teacher left your classroom, a boy with a raven hair, chubby cheeks and a cute mole by his left chubbier cheek approached you,

“Hey, you can use my spare one.” He said. And who are you to refuse the kind offer? So, you accepted it and muttered a whisper of thank you before your teacher came back.

By the time that all of your classes were finished, you decided to return the pen to the said boy. You slowly approached him even before your brother had reached you, earning a confused look from Jisung.

“Uh, hey thank you for earlier and uh… here’s your pen.” Your nine-year-old introverted ass managed to say out loud.

“Oh y/n! You’re welcome!” to say that you were shocked was an understatement. How did he know your name when you don’t even talk to anyone in class besides your brother? And you also felt shy, and a bit guilty because you clearly don’t know his name.

“I’m sorry but, I don’t know your name.” you shyly said, head hanging low and fingers fidgeting with the straps of your backpack. But then you looked up when you heard soft giggles coming from the boy.

“It’s Seungmin! And no worries y/n,” nine-year-old Seungmin said.

“By the way, I’m coming by your place later to play video games with Jisung. You can join us if you’d like!”

And this was the start of it. You and Seungmin became inseparable. Maybe it’s because seungmin helped you by letting you borrow his pen and his kindness touched one of the strings inside your heart or maybe it was how cute his chubby cheeks are with the left one a bit larger than the right or maybe it was how he included you in every conversations when you were hanging out with them by your house’s living room just to play left4dead with your brother’s ps3. But you’ve grown to be the best of friends from then on. 

Every Saturday, you would alternately visit each other’s house studying your Sciences and Maths with the sides of playing video games and watching classic cartoons. Seungmin also helped with you misplacing things often. He suggested writing on a memo pad every single thing you wanted to remember later on, every day, but only those that are important. Seungmin is also quite observative with his surroundings. For he would always know that the pen you’re looking for is located between the locks of your hair which is tied in a bun and the scrunchie that you’re trying to find was inside your now amber pencil case that you love carrying around. You were so close that even both of your parents even tagged you as the ones who seem like twins than you and Jisung. 

Ever since you were a kid you’ve always had this poor memory skill and you still wonder until now the reason how and why you can’t forget everything about a certain Kim Seungmin when he seems to have forgotten every inch of your existence.

You heard a loud knock coming from the window of the passenger's seat which interrupted you from your short trip down to memory lane. You squint your eyes to recognize the person despite the dark and obsidian night clouding your vision. Recognizing it to be Hyunjin, you unlocked the car doors for him.

“Seungmin told me that he saw you here,” he started as he sat comfortably now by the passenger seat.

“and Jisung fell asleep in the middle of a movie” he continued. You sighed, expecting nothing much of your brother that shared the same trait as yours when it came to enduring long hours of sitting in front of a tv and just watching. 

“Can you help me bring him here?” You asked as you had an agreement with Jisung that you’ll both be home before sunrise. 

“Why don’t you stay the night y/n? I mean, not here. You can join us inside.” Hyunjin asked even though he already knew the answer.

“It’s my responsibility to bring him home, Hyunjin,” you said, immediately dismissing his suggestion.

“Besides, if mom and dad come home and we’re out of sight, then we’ll be dead as meat” Hyunjin scoffed at your reply making you question him in silence.

“Jisung already told me that your parents won’t be back for the next two days.” Oh. Well, shit.

“Come on, y/n, let’s get you inside. It’s cold out here.” All your hopes of going home with Jisung tonight was shattered as Hyunjin was already pulling you outside of your car, putting the sketchbook on your lap inside of your bag, which was lying in the backseat of your car, and dragging you towards their house.

“Y/n’s here!!” Hyunjin clearly made sure that everyone knew your presence inside the house. Your eyes immediately tried to find a sleeping figure of your brother by the cushion but he’s not there.

“Oh? y/n! I made your favorite snacks” and there he was, standing by the kitchen counter with a bowl of strawberries and melted chocolate in his hands. You glared at Hyunjin at this and the latter only apologetically looked at you and mouthed a ‘sorry’. Stuck in the situation, you only sighed as you took a seat in one of the couches as you heard how Hyunjin broke down to Jisung the details of how he managed to force your ass here. 

“Y/n! my little one!” a voice called out coming from the kitchen which you certainly recognize that belongs to Chan. He sat down beside you and immediately attacked you with one of his big and comfortable hugs. 

“I really missed you” he whispered in your ear before pulling away.

Felix announced that the movie is about to start which made everyone get back to their places. Jisung handed you your strawberries before he sat down with felix by the couch opposite to yours. You scanned your eyes to the people around you as you took notice of everyone in here. Chan who was now sitting by the carpet in front of the couch you were on. Changbin and Jeongin who were cuddled like babies by the longest couch, Felix, Hyunjin and Jisung who were now arguing in whispers of who will be able to cuddle Hyunjin’s Ryan plush. Minho, who just came back from the restroom and sat in front of Changbin and Jeongin. And—

Your thoughts were cut when a blanket was softly draped by your shoulders. You glanced behind you only to see the person you’re trying to avoid who was also looking at you,

“It’s… cold.” He said, deciding to turn away before you even return a ‘thank you’. You took the blanket in your hands and realized that it’s his own personal blanket. The one that he carried around whenever he would sleepover at your place before.

The movie ended and it was no surprise that both you and Jisung had already fallen asleep. Well, more than half of you are already in a deep slumber. The only ones awake are Chan, Minho and Seungmin.

"Are we gonna let them sleep like that or….?" Minho asked as Chan already started cleaning up the place from empty snacks and cups.

"I think the boys can manage to sleep in here, just bring more pillows and blankets," Chan answered, his figure disappearing towards the kitchen.

"Oh! and bring y/n upstairs to Hyunjin's room!" Chan declared.

Seungmin only watched as Chan and Minho did their thing, elbow propped to the armchair of the single seated sofa he's in and eyes boring directly to you, seeping. Just as when Minho was about to carry you to Hyunjin's room as Chan instructed, Seungmin sat up straight from his slouching position.

"I'll take her," he said,

"... uh, upstairs." Minho only looked at him before heaving a sigh and letting Seungmin do it.

Seungmin then approached you, taking notice of how his blanket draped over your sleeping figure. He sighed heavily before placing his arms beneath your neck and knees, carrying you in the comfort of his arms. You shifted in your sleep and snuggled closer to Seungmin's neck unconsciously due to his warmth being in close proximity to your naturally cold body.

“Be careful” Minho instructed as Seungmin started to head for the stairs. 

Seungmin successfully laid you down the bed and carefully tucked you in beneath the sheets, attempting to take his blanket from you. But you tugged on it and cuddled with it more in your unconscious state. Seungmin chuckled at how adorable you looked and decided to just let you have it. It also reminded him of that one precious memory with you.

"Seungmin, I'm really, really sorry. I thought that I placed it in here already." you said as you checked Seungmin’s duffle bag once more. You were so sure that you’ve included his blanket there, which he lent you the previous day. Your eyes started to water at the thought of misplacing Seungmin’s favorite blanket at the cabin, because you always lose things.

“Have you checked your bag?” Seungmin said as he opened your backpack that lies beside his. He scrambled through the pile of clothes inside and a minute later, he felt the familiar smoothness of the cotton of his blanket. He sighed in relief before bringing it out, showing it to you.

“Y/n, it’s in here” he chuckled as he held it in your vision. You let out a shaky breath before tears came running down from your eyes. All of the frustrations from earlier and the anxiety of losing something important to your best friend came crashing to you as your adrenaline finally settled down, resulting in letting it all out. Seungmin, with years of knowing that you have a shitty tolerance with how your lacrimal glands work, led you to the surface of the bed. Encircling his warm hands to your much colder ones as he rubs soothing circles at the back of it with his thumb. Just like what he always did whenever you needed someone’s comfort. One that you can’t just vocally ask someone of and one that only a certain Kim Seungmin can do. 

It was one of Seungmin’s favorite memories of you. It wasn’t because you cried, god no, Seungmin hates seeing you cry. It was the level of intimacy that your friendship with him has. You weren’t in your best shape, but he saw how you cared for him and not just him but also the things that he owns and the sentiments that they hold. How you value your relationship with him that even a stupid blanket of made you bawl your eyes out. It was how special and dear he is to you, not the expensive, crystal, gems that you both always laugh at whenever you go online shopping, but it’s special like how you always wore this long, beige, soft-cottoned cardigan of yours, the one where you don’t want to lose it so you’ll just use it in every kind of opportunity there is, to keep it in your sight. And believe it or not, Seungmin regrets every decision he made when everything that he had with you came to an end. Because it took him a year in college, and an ample amount of avoiding you, to realize that you were more than just a best friend.

You suddenly woke up from your sleep, feeling quenched for water. Then you remembered that you haven't had any drop of water after the sweets that you consumed earlier. You made your way towards the kitchen from Hyunjin's room, knowing the directions well, based on your last memories from this house. Reaching the kitchen counter, you spotted a familiar figure sitting by the table. But you chose to ignore him as you made your way to the fridge after grabbing a glass of water by one of the cabinets.

"Hey… y/n," you choked on your glass of water as you heard him suddenly speak. You wiped your lips before turning around to face him.

"Can we perhaps, uh… talk?" You took a sharp breath in as you totally did not expect him to initiate a conversation with you. 

Seungmin was beyond nervous. He can already hear his heart pounding in his chest as you slowly approached the table, taking your time to somehow process the questions in your head. You took the seat in front of him, the grazing of the chair's feet against the marble floor being the only sound that was heard in the dread of the night. You softly sighed before turning your gaze towards the boy's hazelnut orbs, which was a wrong decision as it reflected against the moonlight from the window behind you, effortlessly making you lost with how his eyes showcased faint sadness and longingness. 

It was during your last December as a senior high school, you guess it was when everything went wrong.

You were watching Seungmin's baseball game, excitedly screaming his name when your phone rang obnoxiously from your pocket. At first you ignored it, thinking it was just Felix trying to convince you to accompany him at the bake sale, even though he's fully aware that you're with Seungmin. But then your phone did not stop ringing and by the third time, you answered. It was Jisung's number, but the voice doesn't belong to him. It was a call from the hospital, telling you that you must come immediately for your brother was caught in an accident. They told you to don't panic but here you are, quickly getting off from the bleachers while texting Seungmin about your sudden disappearance.

You reached the hospital with your anxiety rising in every step that you take. The nurse instructed you to wait outside as your brother was undergoing an operation. You were frightened, of course. Your parents at that time were both out of town and you can't call your friends knowing that they're still in the middle of their classes, but you settled on sending them a message. Hours went by as you painstakingly waited for the doctor to come out of the operating room. Chan arrived first out of your friend group and that's when you broke down. Weeping and bawling your eyes out as he engulfed you with his warm arms. Your friends slowly piled up in the white hallways of the hospital, but your best friend was still nowhere in sight. The doctor finally came out and told you about your brother's condition. Apparently, Jisung was caught in a car accident, the driver of the car was over speeding, but his breaks don’t work. Jisung will now be transferred in a separate room and you just have to wait for him to wake up. 

“Where’s Seungmin?” Hyunjin pointed out as you all headed for the room Jisung was transferred to.

“His game wasn’t done yet when I received the call.” you said, a bit tired from crying due to the events of that day.

“But it’s been hours already. I’m sure his game wouldn’t last that long” Felix stated, clearly concerned because they all know how you and Seungmin treat each other and it was evident, by the way you search for the entrance of the hallway every now and then, that you’re looking for your best friend. 

“He’ll come by.” you said, completely ignoring everyone else as you sat on a chair near Jisung’s bed and it wasn’t that long when you had fallen asleep, clutching your brother’s hand in yours.

Seungmin came by the next day, explaining that he had to stay after the game for some stuffs that their coach instructed him and you noticed that something is wrong. It bothers you how he can’t look directly in your eyes as he explained. Because Seungmin wasn’t like that. He would always look at you whenever he tells you something important but that day, he chose to avoid your gaze. And one of the things that you regretted doing was not asking him about it because after that, Seungmin became distant.

The first two months after the incident, it was still tolerable,  after school hangouts slowly lessened, with Seungmin spending his extra time for baseball practices and you totally understand it, you still have lunch times together anyways. But then it didn’t last long, when you all came back to school, having to spend your last semester as senior high school students, Seungmin suddenly doesn’t sit with you during lunch anymore. He started to hang out with the jocks, his teammates. It doesn’t also help that he’s cancelled every road trip that you both scheduled way before the previous semester ended. Your weekly game nights with him became monthly ones, until he skipped one month, or maybe two... or three, and it became countless that you never cared anymore. Everything that you’ve been doing with Seungmin, you became used to doing them all alone now. And you can only bask in silence as you continue to question yourself, What happened?

You used to hate losing things that you value dearly, but you never knew that losing someone would hurt much more than the things you lost. And Seungmin, he was among those that you lost but the difference this time is that you knew. You knew that he was slowly slipping away from you but you just let him. Thinking it was okay, thinking maybe, he grew tired of you, of how he was always the one to look out for you but everyone including you, knew that it doesn't make a point. Seungmin won't just slip away like that or that's what you thought. 

“I’m sorry,” Seungmin broke the endearing silence that surrounds the both of you.

“For everything.” You only stared at him which he took as a signal to go on.

“Remember the university that I always told you about before?” Of course you remember, he couldn’t stop talking about it, junior year. You nodded in response as he went on,

“The same day of Jisung’s accident, I got offered for a scholarship to study there and I didn’t know what to do. My parents kept bugging me to accept it and they are already planning for my future on their own. It was my dream school, y/n." you saw a stray tear that grazed seungmin’s left chubbier cheek that you love the most, making you want to wipe it but no, you have to keep yourself cool or all the walls that you built after him will be instantly destroyed.

"I was confused, because in every future plan that I had, prior to being offered that scholarship, you were already included," Seungmin continued, his voice cracking as he tried to suppress his sobs.

"y/n, I didn't want to lose you." he said before tears were rushing down his delicate features, 

"You already did." you said, your now glassy eyes locked with his.

"y/n–"

"No, Seungmin, you had a choice to tell me everything before. You should've told me and I would understand the situation, but you did not. Instead you slowly left me. Do you even know how much I had gone through?" you cut him off. 

"I– I'm sorry," 

Seungmin was scared, then and now, to see how you're drifting away from him. The only difference was that when he made that decision before, he was scared of his growing feelings for you, feeling more than what the title ‘best friend’ holds, which pushed him to do what he did. He knows, his defense mechanism was bullshit. But then now, he is scared of the possibility that you'll cut him off of your life, without him telling you what he truly felt just because he doesn't want to add more flame to the burning of your wounds. 

"I was a coward, I know. So, please, let me make it up to you." you scoffed at his reply,

"Why now? It's been two years, Seungmin. It probably won't hurt you to have me completely out of your life because you clearly are doing well on your own" 

"Han Jisung," he said which had taken you back,

"He won't let me near you after senior year." you sat there in silence, Jisung did what now?

"You can ask him." Seungmin added but you weren't paying attention as everything in your head is now in pure chaos. You know you can't think straight at this moment so you just sat there in silence, trying to organize the haywire in your brain.

"Did you accept the scholarship?" you asked, which startled Seungmin.

"I did." 

"Good for you. I'd feel guilty if you haven't." you sighed as you glanced at the clock and noticed that it's already half past four in the morning. You stood up from your seat, preparing to go back to sleep.

"I'm going to sleep, you?" you asked him.

"I'll stay for a while." he said, looking up at you with slumped shoulders.

"I forgive you, Min, I already did a long time ago," you said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"But I'm sorry, I don't think I can give you what you're looking for right now." 

There are things in your life that you have longed to look for and in some instances, you tend to find them at the most random places, in the most unexpected times. But after not seeing them for a long period of time, you happen to forget the value that it holds, how important they were, and nothing will remain besides the nostalgic memories that it held. That’s what you felt with Seungmin right now. He was your best friend, until he wasn’t. You were inseparable until he slipped away from your bond. And now, every time you see him, you’ll be reminded of how he once left you and the possibilities of it repeating. Because you believe that losing something once can be a mistake but losing it twice means you’re not responsible enough to keep it.

[guigz1-coldwar]

'Forgiveness' : New chapter for "Redemption in a Spirit in a Cold War" is out !

"Forgiveness"

"He was innocent, Freya ! He was an good man....and look what happened !"

Chapter Summary : After having killed Stone and wounding herself in the process, Yirina is feeling troubled after having learned of her presence the day of the death of Park's brother in London in 1973...

To read it on AO3, click here !

Words : +4000

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During the next few minutes that followed the shots I did to myself and even if I closed my eyes to let me pass out freely and maybe, get over it, I was able to see some obscure & little flash, seeing myself transported away by Park and Price, myself been patched as the two were holding me good and Zasha was watching the scene terrified.....I was feeling so bad right now : the shots on my shoulder, the revelation that Stone gave to everyone. During all this time, the burn mark I had on my left hand, it was because I tried to save someone....and this someone was William Elijah Park in 1973 in London.....

I was there the day he was killed by Stone, trying to save him from the bomb but I didn't succeed and this event was making me guilty, traumatizing me enough. The brainwashing erased that trauma but only temporary as my memories were coming back but now, learning that I was present in London the day William got killed, it's making that guilt relive in me. Me & Park....we were close by that and we didn't know at all about it. Finally, the flashs stopped and I could close my eyes for good, only hoping for the best......

I opened my eyes to find myself sitting in the back of an bar and it was looking very english....no....I'm reliving this day....why ?.....There weren't an lot of people here in that pub but I did prefer to stay hidden and the papers I had with me was showing that I wasn't willing to go public about it. These papers, it was all about Stone : reports from the Perseus collective on him and other ones were also reports but on William Elijah Park.

Looking around like I was awaiting someone, checking my watch from time to time and tapping my feets on the ground under the table, it was sure that I was nervous as hell until I decide to take out an cigarette from an pocket of my jacket before lighting it up and put it between my lips. As I was taking an breath, I could see an man enter the pub, turning his head to see someone....who was me as he start to walk into my direction.

"You're the one who contacted me ?" The man asked, it was William....he was looking curious and pretty much nervous too to be here with an unknown person, I slowly nodded to him as I put my cigarette in my hand.

"Take an seat." I ordered in an low voice, pointing to the seat that was in front of me. He took an deep breath before he resign himself to sit like I said.

"Why did you called me, miss...uhm...you didn't give your name by the way." He said, getting his left arm on the table while the other, it was on his lap.

"That part isn't important for you to know, sir Park." I breathed, crushing my cigarette in the ashtray on the table.

"Okay, game's over, tell me why...."

"Relax, sir." I told him in an serious voice, cutting him straight even if I could feel myself scared inside after I heard an noise under the table. "Don't need to bring an gun here, I'm unharmed."

"How did you know ?" He demanded, raising an eyebrow.

"I heard the click of your gun, you can put it down." I suggested and he comply, stunned that I managed to know about as he was getting his pistol back in his jacket. "So, you're William E. Park from the SAS, that's correct ?" I started the real subject, taking the papers about him in my hands.

"Yes." He replied in an low voice, looking around him to make sure that he wasn't trapped.

"Can you talk with me about Harry Stone ?" I questioned, peaking my eyes to look at him and his eyes did go wide at hearing me saying that name.

"Him ?" He was sounding taken aback by that name. "An man that is so reckless that I'm ashamed to see this man in the SAS, a disgrace to the whole regiment."

"I see that the rumors of your hatred against him were true." I proclaimed, putting the file aside to look at him fully. "Tell me, is Stone has did something very bad to you....like attempting to kill you ?"

"If I can count the numerous time he tried, it would be an lot." He responded, almost laughing about before he got his both arms on the table. "I don't understand why we're talking about him."

"Because he's an man who knows how to act, sir Park." I told him as I hand over the file about Stone to him who took it in hands, curious about it. "Stone is been working with the organization I'm in too called Perseus."

"Perseus ?" He whispered, looking deeply the file.

"An terrorist organization that's working with the East but unofficially, on their own." I explained, telling him of the true motives of the Perseus Collective.

"Shit, this....it's going to make an lot of noise to the top." He proclaimed, astonished by the contents of the file he was reading on before he put it back on the table. "But...why are you doing this ?"

"I'm doing this because I'm not believing in those ideals and to Perseus, I only want to make the good." I answered before I put my hands on the second file about William himself. "Stone is planning something on you on the following days." I added, giving him the file that he start to look at.

"Are you kidding me ?" He sounded almost angry about seeing the written lines on that file, stating an apparent description of  William.

"I know." I said silently, understanding his behavior. "All of this, it's bullshit and I know the truth about you." I continued, getting his attention on me entirely. "You're an kind man & very generous, I know that because I've been following you for days."

"You...you have been following me ?" He chuckled, looking uncomfortable at the moment and I nodded.

"I had heavy doubts about why Stone was mentioning about killing an future threat to Perseus so I decide to investigate." I revealed to him, making his eyes go wide to me. "I'm not like them, sir Park. I want to make sure that you're not harmed."

"I....I don't know what to say really !" He was losing his words, amazed that someone he was considering an enemy was helping in reality. "You're doing this because you believe in good...and thank you, miss." He grinned, looking at those papers on the table. "Shit, if Helen is seeing this...."

"Helen ?" I asked, curious.

"Oh...it's my sister, she's looking the same age as you, I presume." He replied, scratching the back of his head. "Been pursuing an doctorate in international relations in Oxford, I don't want her to be pull in all of this." He added.

"It's better, I believe." I nodded to him about this....if only....."Listen, you should be careful the next days but I will make sure that this assassination order is called off...to make you safe."

"Thank you again, miss." He said before I decide to got up from my chair, letting the documents for him to take with.

"By the way, my name is Grigoriev if you want to know." I told him, offering my hand for an shake before he accept, smiling fully. "Don't worry, sir Park, I will make sure that you will be protected."

"And...and what if your superiors find out about your actions ?" He demanded.

"I can't tell but let's hope that you will have Stone arrested, that's the most important thing." I expressed, my eyes on the table. "Have an good day, sir Park." I make my farewell with an smile before I walk out of the table, leaving him alone to get outside.

I was feeling well to say, taking an deep breath before I could see an black van, parked on the other side of the street, it must be some people from Perseus as I was going to go near it, walking through the street to get to it from behind. I knocked two times at the back doors before someone decide to open for me and I discover Stone along with Freya herself, apparently awaiting for me.

"So, how this little 'date' was, Grigoriev ?" Stone was the first one to talk and I was already annoyed by hearing his voice towards me.

"Go fuck yourself, Stone." I exclaimed as I get inside the van behind, closing the door behind but instead of going away, the van didn't drive off the place. "It was good."

"Nothing to worry about Park ?" Freya asked, curious.

"No, the report that our beloved Stone write about is full bullshit." I replied, looking at Stone with deadly eyes. "He only want to kill Park because he's just paranoid."

"I'm not paranoid, I'm seeing an good opportunity to get rid of that guy." He said to me, serious in this voice before he got something out of his pocket.

"What's this ?" I demanded, pointing at this.

"You're fucking blind ? That's an detonator !" He responded, showing it fully to me as my eyes goes wide at seeing it in his hands.

"Don't tell me.....you son of an bitch." I cursed, realizing what he has done. "He's an innocent and you're going to kill him ?" I added, getting furious each second. "You abort that, right now !"

"In your dreams." He scoffed as he looked to the driver.

"Stone, he's out, he's going to his car !" The driver said, pointing at the direction of the pub, seeing William, getting out of it.

"Good, that's going to be some fireworks." Stone joked about it as he was taking his detonator fully.

"Freya, do something for fuck sake !" I expressed loudly, looking at her before I realized that she was going to do nothing to help me, only looking down at her feets in shame. "Damnit, I will do it on my own." I added before I open the back doors again, determined to save William.

"Yirina, wait !" Freya tried to make me stop but I wasn't going to comply at all to her orders as I was getting out of the van, starting to run to get to the rigged car of William, trying to stop him.

"Sir Park, don't start that....." I yelled, running in the street to get close to the car....until it exploded....the car exploded by an bomb placed below it and because of the explosion, I found myself projected away from it.

I closed my left eye at the moment the car blow up but that wasn't going to help me as I was projected away on the street...on my back before some flaming debris fell on my left hand, burning it heavily but I wasn't reacting as I was nearly knocked out by the explosion. I wasn't able to protect William and I could only see with my right eye, the burning car.

"WILLIAM !" I could hear an feminine voice arriving in the street....Park....Helen.....I couldn't hear more as I was suddenly dragged away by someone, seeing Freya on top of me to get me back in the van, almost unconscious before the van drove off the place, with me on the ground of the van floor, with Freya looking at me worried as Stone....behind his mask, I could see shake his head.

"Always at the wrong time, at the wrong place !"

That memory....it make me realize that I was fully there that day, watching William...Park's brother, getting killed in an explosion by Stone himself as I tried to save him from his death I wasn't aware off....I wasn't able to save him, it's not because of me but I could feel that guilty above me that I could have been able to save him from that bomb. I'm going to hate myself for this....and this hate....yeah, I'm hating myself so much for this.

Finally, I reopened my eyes after an while, I couldn't tell how much time but I was well alive even if my shoulder was hurting me an little, feeling the bandages covering the gunshot wounds above it below my shirt. My eye were opened slowly, revealing that I was in an bedroom, laid down on an bad....the bedroom I'm using with Park in West-Berlin...I was back here alive and I could see Zasha sleeping on an chair while Beans was walking on the bed, seeing me awake.

"Hey, Beans." I slowly move my left hand, seeing my burn mark on it to pat Beans head, an smile on my face to see her and then, the door opened, revealing Portnova herself.

"Oh shit, Zasha !" She exclaimed loudly, seeing me awake and her voice caused Zasha to brutally woke up, she was happy to see me alive.

"What ?" Zasha said, having been brutally awaken and ready to fall off their chair until they looked at me. "My god, Yirina...yes !" They added, enthusiatic.

"Hi, Zed...hi Portnova." I waved at them both with my left hand too, releasing Beans from it.

"You put an scare in everyone to say, Grigoriev." Portnova stated, taking an seat next to Zasha, her eyes always focused on me. "I did really panick when you were brought back here with everyone, seeing yourself hurt and knocked out."

"How much I was out ?" I asked, curious about it.

"Two days !" Zasha replied, raising two fingers to me with their right hand. "We're the 20th of May." They continued.

"Shit, this long ?" I whispered to myself, shocked to have been 'sleeping' for two days straight, having my right shoulder wounded. "I....I don't know what to think....how's things since ?" I demanded.

"Well, Stone is finally KIA for good and Park make sure that he stayed liked this. Since, we didn't work, wanting to have you back first." Zasha responded, joining their hands together. "Everyone was scare to have lose you, I did see you shooting yourself to kill Stone."

"I know, it was the only way...maybe it was stupid." I proclaimed as these bullets could have killed me only if Stone wasn't behind me but at least, I was here & Stone was out for good. "Are there anything else ?"

"The SAS were able to neutralize the Greenlight bomb Stone stoled and with intels they found in that complex, they managed to find where the others Greenlight bombs were hidden precisely in Western Europe but they can't do an thing because of the CIA." Zasha continued as Portnova was slowly moving her hands towards them, smiling before the two got their hands together, seeing something new on her hands. "And personally....I....I proposed to Yiri...she said yes !"

"You...said yes ?" I whispered, smiling further about it. "That's amazing, I....I'm damn happy about it." I expressed, slowly redressing myself on the bed as Zasha moved an little to make sure that I wasn't going to hurt myself but I gestured to them that I was okay.

"They proposed yesterday....I know that I have to say yes." Portnova spoke up as I was looking at the ring that Zasha gave her, the one they were going to give her years earlier. "Zed told me that...they were going to propose in 1980."

"Yes but...after we discovered the Greenlight files and Perseus took them, I couldn't do it." Zasha breathed, looking at her with great eyes. "I wanted to have you see it but I couldn't resist anymore." They added, looking at me.

"It's okay, you're both good together." I expressed, offering my left hand towards them to took it. "The most important is that you're going to get well together and well protected." I continued, smiling more about thinking of them, finally happy. "The MI6 will do an lot to have you safe including me."

"About the MI6, Park told me that she waws going to offer me an desk job to Century House and I agreed." Zasha said to me and to say, I was quite amazed that Park gave them that opportunity, she had to do it. "For Yiri, Park was able to have an work for her."

"I'm going to be an maths teacher at the University of London." She confessed, remembering the dream she talked about days earlier to us in her old house now. "I'm starting next week."

"That's wonderful !" I grinned, seeing the two that were going to live an good life...until I thought of something. "Uhm....is Park there ?" I demanded in an low voice.

"Yeah, we can tell her that you're awake." Zasha answered.

"Good but...I want to talk to her alone, I need to." I ordered to them as I'm sure that the discussion I will certainly have with her isn't going to be witnessed by them.

"Okay...okay." Zasha whispered before the two got up from their chairs. "Come on, Beans." Zasha tapped at their legs, wanting Beans to follow them outside and to be honest, it was better that Beans goes with them but before she could left, I did tap her for an last time before Beans left the bed and then, the two with Beans leave the room, leaving me alone.

Now that I was alone, I was redouting the moment Park will step inside that room, fearing her reaction towards me....Honestly, this moment was going to be the first time I'm actually scared of Park herself....She did learned that I was present the day in London where her brother died...I don't know how to feel right now. Then, I could see the door handle slowly moving, meaning that Park was just behind that door until it opened, revealing her....changed.

"Yiri." She said in an low voice, sounding happy to see me alive as inside of me, I was fearing that she was going to jump on me in anger. "You're alright ?" She asked for me and I nodded slowly

"Yeah...I'm...I'm good, the shoulder is still hurting me." I replied until I saw what changed in her. "You...you cut your hair ?" I could see that her hair were back like how it was in the days in the old safehouse 3 years ago.

"I...yes, I know that you like it more like that." She stated as I didn't know how to react even if I grinned an little until she moved to get on the seat that Zasha used. "I'm happy to see you alive." She affirmed, offering her hand to me but suddenly, I was feeling ashamed of myself.

"No, I can't." I breathed, looking away from her, impossible for me to look at her in the eyes. "I can't....you know it, you know that I was there that day." I continued, giving my thoughts about it to her.

"I know, it's okay." She admitted.

"Okay ? You & me learned that I did try to save your brother from death but I wasn't fast enough....you should hate me." I told her, almost raising my voice but I couldn't be in anger against her, it's her that should be the one like that towards me. "You should...despise me, even kill me for what I have done."

"No....I will never do that !" She expressed, sounding low in her voice. "Yirina, look at me, please." She ordered even if it wasn't sounding like an actual order, according to her voice. "Please." She pleaded and then, I moved back to look at her, seeing her blue eyes filled with tears, still offering her hand to me that I decide to take slowly.

"I...I relived that day...I talked with your brother." I said as I was always sharing my memory to her and this one was going to be very personal with her. "He was....an good man, seeing the good in me and the same for me. He didn't deserve that." I confirmed, proudly before I moved my other hand to get it on top of hers she was handing to me. "I'm....so sorry, Park."

"It wasn't your fault and I know that." She affirmed to me before with her right hand, she took out from her jacket an paper.

"What's this ?" I asked, curious.

"It's an letter...written by you." She replied, making my eyes go wide at hearing this. "It's unsigned but since Stone told us about what happened that day, I realized that it was you who did write."

"How....what is this letter ?" I whispered as she give me the letter in my hands, to let me take an look.

"While you were here, I did make an trip last day to London in Century House to retrieve some things until I found back this letter, hidden in my desk." She explained, giving more details about the letter as I start to open it fully, seeing my handwritting on it. "I got this a few days after William's death." She added as I start to read the letter.

To William E. Park sister

I don't know you personally and you don't know me but I have to give you this letter by an mean. I know that you're named Helen A. Park and that you're working an doctorate in international relations in Oxford. I know that because I knew your brother William Park, an SAS soldier and an good man, an real good man. One of the few goods man I did know in my life and those people are rare these days.

I'm writing this letter for you because I was there that day, I talked with him in the bar at a few meters the explosion happened but I wasn't an friend of him. Honestly, I did talked with him because he was in danger. I'm working with the organization that orchestrated his death but I was never going to let it happen, I never believed in their ideas but as you know, I wasn't able to save your brother. I'm sorry, miss Park. I tried to save him but I couldn't. Even if I tried to save him, I'm feeling myself guilty for his death.

You're maybe going to hate me and to tear to pieces that letter but each day after that terrible event, I'm still thinking of your brother. Each day, I'm hearing this voice and each night, I'm seeing the same event and because of it, I can't sleep without waking up with an start. I'm so sorry about what happened. I can't tell anything but I want to make sure that I'm trying my best to survive in an difficult world. I want to give you hope but will you accept it from someone like me ?

I'm sorry, miss Park, may your brother rest in peace ! I'm so sorry !

"I....that...I don't know." I started, having finished to read the letter, the tears were already falling down my eyes as I was giving back the letter to Park, looking down. "I'm so sorry." I repeated my words to her, wanting to cry loudly.

"Me too....me too." She grinned, sounding low too as I look at her, also having tears in her eyes. "This is because of this letter that I decide to change my path, it's because of it that I joined the MI6."

"Your brother...he didn't want you to get involved in that world but...." I stopped myself to clean some tears from my face, telling her of words I heard from William in that memory. "I'm sure that he's proud of you." I affirmed, trying to smile until I start to cry for real, causing her to move from her chair to get her arms around me. "I'm sorry." I whispered.

"I'm sorry too, Yiri....I'm sorry." Park was also crying with me....we went through an lot and we both know that this isn't going to end easily. "Even with what I learned, I know that what you said is true.....you're an good woman, I love you." She affirmed, her head on my shoulder. "I need you, we're going to get through this."

"Yes...we will....I love you too." I said to her, feeling an little relieving and happy as we were both still hugging each other....honestly, I was so happy to be with Park and that she know of myself and my actions....I was there that day but she know that I tried to help her brother, she saw it in me.....

"You're an good woman, my Yiri....I'm so proud of been with you....for always."

[gauntie-o-dimm]

Dutch van der Linde | A Lesson About Ownership

Because a few members have been flirting with you during a heavy night of partying, Dutch has to set the record straight about to whom you belong.

Word count: 2900+ Warnings: Smut, swearing, alcohol abuse, semi-public sex 

The air reeked of drink and testosterone and Dutch van der Linde didn’t like it one bit. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy a good drinking-fest every now and then, and he was very glad that Sean McGuire had returned to camp right in time before being turned in to the authorities by a bunch of bounty hunters. No, something else was irking him till no end - the fact that said Irishman was trying to get your attention in a rather affectionate way. How dare he, Dutch pondered, after all he had risked for him! Was that a way to thank your superior?

But Dutch didn’t intervene just yet. He knew that you were loyal to him and wouldn’t give in to Sean’s fruitless attempts of wooing you. You were too kind - just waving him off with a small laugh and a light-hearted rejection.

The ‘stached man just sat there at a table, one hand clenched around a bottle of whiskey, the other balled to a fist underneath his chin, teeth scraping against his knuckles in an attempt to keep his cool.

“Ah, enjoying some alone time, I see.” there was no sarcasm in Hosea’s words, but a tinge of humor lingered. Dutch looked up to face his best friend for a second, taking in a sharp breath. The silver fox followed his gaze, eyes falling onto you, who was currently being coaxed for a dance on the giddy tune of Uncle’s banjo - you didn’t give in. 

“You know, she is right there and you are here sulking around. It’s not like there is nothing you can do. If anything, I’d say you were jealous.”

Dutch hated it that Hosea could see right through him - but they had been putting up together for decades, now. 

Yes, he was very possessive of you, but Mr van der Linde would never - ever - let his envy get the better of him, right? Sure, he wished he was the one over there making you laugh about some stupid joke. There was nothing else that would bring him more joy than to guide you onto the dance floor (just a small patch of grass, really), but something that he never wanted to show was weakness.

“It’s just a dance, you know.” Hosea muttered, taking a swig from his beer. “It ain’t like people are going to judge you for it. For what it’s worth, I wouldn’t pass the opportunity to share another dance with my Bessie if she was still here. Spend time with the one you love while you still can, Dutch. She ain’t gonna stick around forever, and you know it. You’re not stupid, but I sincerely pray that you won’t make the same mistake again, like with miss O’Shea.” 

Dutch’s teeth gritted together, ringed fingers playing with the half-empty bottle in front of him. He kept quietly observing the scene, a jealous pang shooting through his chest as he witnessed Bill joining in on the conversation, daring to put an arm around your shoulders in a friendly way - at least, that was what he was trying to make it look like.

No, Dutch van der Linde knew better - he had caught Mr Williamson staring at you several times. He didn’t like it at all that he was so close to you.

There was a change of tune, a song that would certainly make everyone want to dance - apart from Uncle with his chronic lumbago - and before Dutch could comprehend what was unfolding, you were already dancing with both Sean and Bill. Even though it was not a romantic dance to be shared between lovers only, Dutch felt a unpleasant twist in his stomach. Seeing you have fun with in one hand some beer and the other resting on Sean’s shoulder; something didn’t sit quite right with him.

Hosea stood with the notice of having to empty his full bladder, walking off towards the side of the camp and leaving Dutch to his thoughts. How long had the gang leader known you for? Seven years? Eight?

You were long part of the gang when Molly joined. He recalled how broken your eyes had looked when he introduced you to each other. It wasn’t until later that he realized why that had been the case. And yet, he found you difficult to fathom. You were still like this unreachable vixen that had been there with him for such a long time, he was your lover for at least a year now and still he barely knew anything about you. Or maybe Hosea had been wrong about him and Dutch was indeed stupid. 

He tilted his chair backwards as he witnessed Bill resting his hands on your waist, trying to get you a little closer to him. The gang leader knew that said man was drunk and currently knew no boundaries, but it was all the more of a reason to keep a close eye on the situation.  Karen had started hollering obscene things towards the two, yelling to rent a room in Saint Denis and have a hot foursome with both her and Sean, and that was the moment that something within Dutch snapped. Even the ladies around camp had forgotten who you truly belonged to. 

With a thud, his chair fell to the ground. He didn’t bother picking it up as he took large strides over to you and Bill, who looked like they were getting pretty cozy. 

“Hey Marion, get your filthy paws off my beloved!” he barked, immediately silencing the sound of Uncle’s instrument.

All eyes were on him now, and his were resting on Bill, who was gritting his teeth - Dutch knew how much he despised being called by his birth name.  “It’s just a fucking dance, chief!” Bill spat back, breath reeking of drink and tobacco. Dutch visibly cringed, not knowing why on Earth you had enjoyed dancing with this vagrant. 

“Dutch, love, we were just dancing.” you tried calming him down, putting a hand on his shoulder. He turned his gaze to you and you slightly gasped at what emotion was manifesting in his eyes. He was seething, grabbing your wrist firmly as he started to walk right through the crowd of gang members, pushing aside everyone in his way.

You couldn’t do anything else than follow like an obedient dog, trying to pry his fingers away from your arm. He got the hint, loosening it slightly. You weren’t the one wronging him after all. 

“It seems that the lot of you have forgotten something quite important! I know that I always say: ‘What is mine, is yours.’ However, that does not, and I repeat it does not... Apply to partners, be it touching her, flirting with her, trying to get into her pants.” 

Hosea had re-joined the ruckus and approached you and Dutch, trying to interrupt his speech by saying that Dutch was overreacting, but the gang leader didn’t give him the chance. 

“(Y/n) here, she belongs to me and only me. She is my girlfriend, my beloved, and you must be reminded about that! No one touches her but me and I will make sure that you lot will never forget that. I am going to fuck her so nicely right now that she will sing my name until dawn, and all of you, all of you, are going to listen to me do it. Do I make myself clear?” 

Hosea made a gesture towards young Jack, “But the boy.” Dutch momentarily eyed the young kid, rubbing his neck as he realized that he hadn’t taken him into account. From his pocket, he grabbed a wad of cash, throwing it towards Abigail, who was holding her hands over the child’s ears.

“You go to a nearby hotel, then, and keep the change for the inconvenience. The rest of you better open your ears really good.” 

At least he had the decency to wait until Abigail had left camp with her son, and it was a moment for you to collect your thoughts. What was he going to do to you? And why was no one talking back? Dutch was respected, but you figured even Hosea couldn’t crack through his thick skull right now. Instead the older man was standing a bit away, his eyes locking with yours for a moment as he shook his head slightly. In return, you shot him a helpless look, and he let out a sigh. There was nothing to be done about it now. 

You almost wanted to tell Dutch that you’d prefer it to go to a hotel room together instead, but you knew what he would say. How else would everyone hear that you belonged to him? You had to admit that the idea of it turned you on. The knowledge that in a few minutes you’d be whimpering underneath him made you clench your thighs together in excitement.  As soon as the light of Abigails lantern was invisible from between the trees, Dutch turned to the remaining members.  “So, don’t let me catch any of you turn away. Hosea, I trust that you will keep an eye out for me while I prove them something, alright?”  “Absolutely not, Dutch! You’re being a disgusting weasel!”

If someone else had been yelling those things at Mr van der Linde, they would’ve certainly ended up with a bullet between their eyes. But it was his best friend, so instead Dutch took a deep breath before responding: “No, I am being reasonable! I need to teach them a little lesson about boundaries if someone is in a relationship.” “Well, I am certainly not going to contribute to those filthy concepts of yours. If someone around this camp knows no bounds, it is you!” 

Dutch scoffed at Hosea before grabbing your arm again, taking you into his tent before pushing you onto his cot. The furs felt nice and slightly tickled your skin as you almost sunk away in them. Dutch turned to the opening in his tent and rolled down the flaps, tying them together firmly. 

“Do you want a romantic tune to be played, boss?” you heard Uncles voice from outside of the tent, who had already resumed the strumming on his banjo. You had to prevent yourself from laughing.

“Shut the fuck up!” Dutch barked loudly while gripping the front of your dress, practically tearing off the buttons as he bared your breasts. You gasped, throwing his hat to the side before you went to tangle in his hair the very moment he wrapped his lips around one of your exposed nipples. 

You arched your back into his mouth and he let out a low hum, roughly sucking on the small button that started to swell in his mouth. His moustache tickled, but you didn’t mind. The power behind his lips made your stomach tingle pleasantly when you realized what was in store for the rest of the night.  “Don’t hide those pretty sounds for me, but you certainly shouldn’t do it for them. They need to hear you, remember? And I am going to fuck you as long as it takes to get through to these thick-headed mongrels!” 

You whimpered at his words and the pressure his knee applied between your legs, your hips involuntary moving against him.  “Look at you being all desperate. You love feeling me in you, don’t you, darlin’?”  He slid his hands under your dress before taking it from you in a solid movement, leaving you in your bloomers alone. 

He eyed your exposed body for a few moment, his hands moving to rest upon your stomach. He slid them down, peeling your underwear off of you, and so you laid, completely nude whilst he was fully dressed apart from his hat. It made you feel even more vulnerable underneath his touch. 

Dutch gave an assuring smile, leaning down to press a few light kisses on your tummy and navel. You slightly whimpered, wriggling underneath his lips as he smirked, straddling your body, inching ever closer to your sex. 

But right as he was about to press his tongue between your folds, he pulled back, undoing his belt and coaxing his erection from his briefs. It was a familiar sight and he beckoned you closer, immediately telling you what to do.  And so you sat up, crawled towards him and took him in your hand. You collected some saliva in your mouth before letting a dollop of it fall onto his tip, covering his length in it as he grew stiff and ready for you. 

You moved your tongue around the head of his cock, catching the first few drops of his excitement from the slit on the top. Momentarily, he let you press a few open-mouthed kisses over the base before letting his hand slide in your hair, rings becoming tangled in the (h/c) locks. He grunted and rolled his hips forward, pushing himself past your slightly parted lips, forcing you to take him whole.

You slightly gagged, closing your eyes when tears appeared in the corners of them. Trying to keep a steady breathing, you swallowed around him, ignoring the lack of oxygen as you started to move your head. Dutch let out a moan, accompanied by a sound that came from you when he slid in even deeper and hit the back of your throat. It was wanton and saturated of lust. Everyone could hear you choking on his cock and the man in question loved every second of it. 

It was nearly as if you could feel their embarrassed eyes burn through the cloth of the tent, but the publicity of the act taking place only added to the sensation. You just hoped that the outlines of your bodies wouldn’t be projected like a shadow by the light of the candles around you. But then, if it were indeed visible... 

Your lover took two fistfuls of you hair and without any kind of warning, he started fucking your face. The sudden change of events made your airways become restricted. The fact that were looking more disheveled by the second 

You let out a gagging sound, for a moment believing you would either pass out or throw up, but Dutch pulled himself from your mouth, leaving you gasping for air, several tendrils of saliva connecting you to his swollen cock, tears and snot dribbling down your face. He smirked at you, rubbed some spit off your chin and gestured towards the bed. You obeyed, laying down and spread your legs for him.

For a moment, he lingered above you, taking off the remaining pieces of clothing that were still on your body. His skin was hot against yours, and as he pushed himself in, you moaned at the contact. He settled his arms next to both sides of your head and kissed you for a moment. 

“Love,” Dutch spoke softly, “You better don’t hold in those sounds, understand?”

You nodded, letting out a whimper as he began thrusting into you. Even though his movements were demanding, the sounds slipping out of you were sincere. You wrapped your legs around him, slowly unraveling underneath him. And Dutch’s eyes, they never left your face for a second, a satisfied grin tugging at his lips as he fastened his pace, the cot starting to creak underneath the force.

And with the increase of his thrusts, so did your breaths become uneven. You were sure that the gang members that had walked away in disgust could hear you on the other side of camp, including the person who was currently on night watch, even though you couldn’t remember if it was Javier or Charles, but it didn’t matter. What mattered is that you sang for Dutch, quivering under the weight of his body, inner walls clamping around him desperately.

Would he make you beg for your release? You murmured his name, letting it slip from your tongue like silk, only loud enough for him to hear. Something in his face changed, the possessiveness he had been mustering for minutes soon vanished like a thin layer of snow in the searing sunlight. He looked at you with complete adoration in that moment, before returning to his original, claiming self. 

“You’re mine, (Y/n)!” he grunted loudly, “Mine and mine alone!”  “Yes, Dutch!” “Say it! Tell me to whom you belong!” “I belong to you, Dutch! Forever! I love you! Only you!” 

And that was all he needed to hear to push you over the pleasurable edge of an orgasm. He was quick to follow soon, not even asking if he could spill himself in your depths. Your body arched into him and a whimper left your throat as he pulled himself out of you, seed dribbling down your thighs, and he allowed you to finish your orgasm with his index finger tightly pressed onto your clit. 

Dutch got up, passing you a clean piece of cloth that he had slightly dampened. He kissed your forehead swiftly before reaching for his boxers.  “Stay here, (Y/n).” he ordered, and of course you did as he said. Not that you could walk right now, anyway. 

He quickly threw it on before quickly slipping outside of the tent to see who truly was still watching. You heard his voice, muffled by the flaps of the tent yet audible enough to pierce through your bones like a knife through butter. 

“Is it now fucking clear to whom she belongs?!”  You could only imagine the flustered faces of the ones that were standing there. “If it isn’t, you should let me know. If anything is vague to your lot, just let me know. I don’t mind proving it to you again.”

[ofwolvesandbutterflies]

notch | ii

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: angst

Tags: unrequited!au, college!au, f2f!au

Warnings: language

A/N: you know those feelings that fight their way to the forefront of your mind when they’re not supposed to?

01 | 02 | 03

Synopsis: early morning calls. picking him up from some stranger’s house after a few bad decisions. the torment of loving someone who was incapable of loving you back. those two small words create such a large chasm between the two of you. but hey, what were best friends for?

The lights in my apartment flickered back to life the moment Jungkook stepped through the doorway and I rolled my eyes. Of course. I kicked my vans off, pulled the scrunchie out of my hair, and stretched, turning towards him while the sleep began lazily clouding my vision. 

“Your shit’s still in the guest closet if you wanna change,” I yawned. Jungkook nodded while slipping off his timberlands. “I’ll see you in the morning if you’re planning on staying that long.” The words fell from my mouth with a purposely snarky edge, lips pulled down into a scowl. With nothing than the uncontrollable urge to go back to sleep, I rubbed my eyes and padded back towards my room. 

“Wait, Y/N,” my companion called. I ignored him and continued walking. What more could he do to hurt me anymore than he already had? “Y/N!”

“What?” I snapped. My body spun around, the level of irritation in my bloodstream rising. 

Jungkook looked taken aback for a moment, one hand resting on the back of his neck nervously and the other still in the process of reaching towards me. Despite the dim lighting, I noticed the light flush that graced his cheeks and he dropped the hand that had been outstretched in my direction. 

“O-oh. Sorry, you should go to sleep.” 

The tension in my shoulders began to relax the longer I stared at my best friend and I exhaled slowly, walking back over to my best friend. The scowl on my lips softened into an attempt at a smile.

“No, I’m sorry for snapping at you. What’s up?” 

All at once, he surged forwards. Jungkook’s arms wound themselves around my waist and he buried his face in the crook of my neck. I froze momentarily, blood rushing to my cheeks before I remembered myself and began to reach around his body to return the hug. 

“Thank you for picking me up again,” he whispered, his words muffled against my skin and I giggled unconventionally as his breath fanned out over my neck. “I know how irritating this must be and I’m sorry for always inconveniencing you.”

For a moment, I said nothing. The feeling of his built arms around my waist, the vulnerability in his words…I smiled and reached up to run my fingers through his hair. The sound of contentment resounding through his throat sent vibrations through his chest and against mine. I closed my eyes and rested my head against his. There was something oddly comforting to me about being the only one who could give him was he needed emotionally. 

“You’re never an inconvenience, Jungkook,” I spoke softly, lips brushing the shell of his ear by accident. Ignoring the shiver than ran through his body from the accidental motion, I continued. “Besides, I’d rather it be me than a stranger driving you home at three in the morning.” 

A low chuckle escaped his lips and he straightened up, arms still residing around my body. “Me, too. So… thank you for that.” 

I removed my hands reluctantly from his silken hair and cupped his face, letting my thumbs glide briefly over the swell of his cheeks. His gaze found mine, and in turn, I found my eyes falling down to his lips. He was so close I could feel his breath on the tip of my nose… My mind slipped back to reality and I looked away. His lips quirked up into a mischievous grin, reminding me that no, I couldn’t do that. I was his best friend. He had just fucked another nameless girl. I was no way in hell going to fantasize about my unrequited love when he was right in front of me. 

I extracted myself from his arms and paid no attention to the intense desire of mine to run back into his embrace.

“Alright, Kook,” I huffed playfully. “Go change now, I’m going to bed.” And without so much of a glance back at him, I entered my room, the smile still caught up on my lips. 

Flopping back down onto my bed, I carded a hand through my hair and pulled the blankets up for the second time in the past hour. The faint buzzing of the streetlights outside of my window and the leisure twirling of thoughts in my head created the most minute lullaby. Softer than the clouds and smoother than velvet, the plush of my beloved comforter sank beneath me the longer I lay there, enveloped in the warmth of my happy place. All at once, my mind wandered from sleep back to my best friend. It was no secret that he hurt badly, not to me anyways. He looked to the wrong things as outlets; drinking, partying, fucking around… as someone who loved him, both as a friend and as a man, it hurt me to watch him self-destruct like that. 

Yes… I thought to myself, frown decorating my lips even upon recalling what he had said years ago “Y/N… stop frowning. You know it takes 62 muscles to frown and 26 muscles to smile, right? So smile. It’s a lot easier.” Even after that, I couldn’t bring myself to smile. After all, as a lonesome lover, Jungkook was the first unspoken thing in my mind in the morning and last thing I thought about before I went to sleep. Before my eyes had the opportunity to close though, my door opened again to reveal a shirtless Jungkook. 

As it did every time I saw him shirtless, my gaze subconsciously raked down his form, drinking in greedily the dips and crevices of his toned torso. Seeming intent on making me the worst friend in the universe, my stare refused to move past his waist and the accentuation of his muscles dipping down under his briefs. A sudden cough brought my eyes back up to his face and I shook the suddenly explicit thoughts from my mind. 

“Jungkook,” I groaned and pushed myself up to look him in the eye. “What the hell? What are you - what are you doing?” 

“You told me to change...?” the confused smile sitting on his lips brought the smallest smile to mine. Of course he came to sleep with me. “I changed.” 

“Of course you did.” Heaving an over exaggerated sigh, I pushed the blankets off the left side of my bed. He shot me a smile and stepped into the room, tussling his hair on his way over to my side. The bed sank under his weight while he made himself comfortable on my now immensely smaller queen sized bed. 

As usual, Jungkook’s forehead found purchase in between my shoulder blades, breath splaying out over the cotton of my shirt. Like usual, he snuck a hand down the curve of my waist, ghosting to and fro over the exposed skin between the band of my shorts and ridden up hem of my shirt. And like always, Jungkook nosed the hair out of the way to press the softest, most meaningless kiss to the junction between my neck and back.  

“Good night, Y/N.”

series m.list

<< | >>

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Balance Requires Motion (Six Cowgirl AU)

TW: Animal abuse

————

Horse barn names/racing names:

Latte/Overly Caffeinated

Dusty/Avoiding Dust

Vinnie/Vincent Van GoGo

Whisper/TellMeYourSecrets

Blazer/Out-Burn Kamikaze

Listener/Lost Song

Peril/Hell Comes Handily

Croft/Tomb Raider

Queenie/SheBeast

———————

Jockeys/Race nicknames:

Anna Cleves/Red

Anne Boleyn/The Trickster

Joan Meutas/Hurricane

Thomas Cromwell/Bulldog

Thomas Culpeper/Salt

———————

“What did I say about bringing him into the house?!”

“He gets cold!”

“Fuck, he stepped in the food!”

Maggie blinks from where she’s packing up her things, watching as a medium-sized goose honks and hops back up on the table, his foot going into the mashed potatoes. Maria screeches, reaching out to grab her beloved bird, but he flaps his wings and dashes off the table and under the couch.

Bessie just sighed and rubbed her thumb and index finger against her forehead. This is a normal occurrence, seeing as how her roommate favors the bird for some reason.

“You have to stop bringing him in,” Bessie scolds, grabbing the ruined potatoes. She’ll save them for the pigs, maybe.

“But his dad is the devil! He doesn’t deserve to be stuck outside in the cold with that demon!”

Maggie suddenly gasps, placing a hand to her chest.

“Aries is a sweetheart! Sure, he may look a little rundown, but he’s sweet and loving!”

She receives two looks of disbelief.

“You’re the only one he likes,” Bessie says, shaking her head.

“Yeah, he’s a pest for everyone but you!” Maria calls from where she is now, crouching down on the living room floor. She peeks under the couch and then a cushioned seat, squeaking as the goose tries to nip at her. She coos, placing her hand under the chair until the bird hesitantly waddles out.

“Who’s my good Leonardo?” Maria coos, rocking the goose back and forth in her hands.

“I still don’t understand why you named a goose ‘Leonardo’. Too pristine for him,” Bessie says, noticing Maggie scurrying over to the house phone that was starting to ring. “Take him outside.”

Maria let out a long groan, but obeyed and walked out of the house to return Leonardo to his pen. When she returns Maggie has finished the phone call.

“It’s Miss Seymour,” The farmhand informs, “She’s got a mare that’s struggling.”

With that, Bessie is already swiping her car keys and pulling on her coat. She nods to Maria, who heads out the door to the truck.

“Would you like to be dropped off, dear?” Bessie asks her young farmhand, “Don’t you have school tomorrow?”

“I can stay,” Maggie said, “I want to help.”

Bessie smiled and nodded, heading out to the car to get to the job.

—————

“Maria will you stop cringing and help me?”

Bessie’s roommate peeked into the barn, her face pale and expression disgusted, then immediately yanked herself back out.

“Oh, that is so gross! I didn’t sign up for this!”

“You didn’t sign up for ANYTHING! I am letting you LIVE in MY HOUSE for FREE! So get your ass OVER HERE and HELP ME!”

Standing against the far wall in of the barn, Jane Seymour, the farm owner, and her horse trainer, Catherine Aragon, watched this exchange go on. Maggie stood alongside them, holding any tools that might have been needed.

“Are they...?” Aragon’s words trailed off as she scratched the top of her head. “Does this...?”

“Oh yeah.” Maggie said without her finishing. “This is their process!”

“You have your ARM in a horse’s VAGINA!! You never said anything about THAT when I came to live with you!”

“I’ll stick my arm up YOUR VAGINA if you don’t get over here!” Bessie then quieted her voice and stroked the fur of Latte, the foaling horse she was assisting, “Shh, Shh, Shh. It’s okay, sweetie. You’re okay... MARIA!!”

“Okay! Okay! I’m coming!”

Maria dragged herself over to the fallen horse and did her best to not look at the hooves sticking out of the mare’s vagina.

After some time goes by, Bessie was pulling on the foal’s front legs, sticky and wet with birthing fluid and covered in the placenta. She was doing her best to be gentle, yet firm enough to pull out the baby, but the mare continued to let out louder whinnies. Jane grips tightly to her shirt as she watches.

“Come on, girl. I can’t do it alone. Push.” Bessie said encouragingly, pulling out more of the baby.

“Come on, Latte, push. You can do it.” Maria said to the mother. The horse’s wild, tired eyes looked up at her.

And, as if she was actually listening, she began to push harder. The foal’s head slipped out a second later, followed by the rest of the upper body.

“That’s it, you’re doing it!” Maria cheered happily, trying to keep her voice down so she would remain calm.

“Almost there,” Bessie murmured as she got a hold of the foal’s middle.

After a few minutes, the foal was finally out. A spew of birthing fluids and placenta followed and Maria was darting out of the barn, causing Bessie to laugh as she peeled off the soaked glove she had on her arm.

“Good work, Mars!” She called.

“Urrg...” Maria groaned from outside.

“You okay, love?”

“Fine...like you care...” Maria grumbled.

Bessie laughed again and then looked back down at the baby. The new foal looked just like it’s mother. Under all that goo was a beautiful, chestnut colored mustang, with a sweet little patch of white on it’s nose. She just about swooned when she saw those large, gleaming brown eyes look up at her.

“It’s a filly,” Bessie called to Jane, who was taking deep breaths of relief.

“Oh, she’s perfect.” Jane said, walking over slowly. “Bessie, I cannot thank you enough. I was so worried...”

The filly began to gather her surroundings, looking around to see where she was while her mother licked and nuzzled her from above. After a moment, she slowly began to stand on her long legs, wobbling and tumbling down a few times, making Maggie laugh a bit before she finally started to get the hang of it. She clumsily tottered her way over to her mother and instantly began to nurse.

Speaking of the young farmhand, she was alerted by voices outside, so she walked out and approached a nearby track.

“Jog him a bit, Catherine doesn’t want anything crazy," A dark-skinned girl, maybe around nineteen, called to another colored woman on a horse.

The woman on the horse nodded in understanding. She walked her mount, a large, muscled chestnut mare, down to one of the far poles, circled her around, and shifted her weight forward allowing the horse to start moving.

At the same time, a second woman riding a bulky red stallion, shot by, throwing up dust as they went by. The chestnut mare grunted and staggered backwards, nearly rearing, but she calms when her rider pats her broad neck and whispers something loving in her ear.

“Anne!” The nineteen-year-old barked, “Didn’t you hear me?!”

“She never does,” Giggled the second girl at her side. She was younger, maybe seventeen, and her hair was dyed pink at the tips.

“A jog is so boring! Vinnie and I need something more exciting!”

“Then give me a few figure eights!” The nineteen year old said.

Seemingly content with that, the red stallion and his rider pushed forward and began running in circles. As they did this, Maggie found it to be the best time to approach the two girls.

“Hello?” She called, and the pair leaning against the track fence turned around. The one with dyed hair smiled brightly and lunges for her, hugging her tightly.

“Maggie!” She chirped. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

“Emergency call,” Maggie grinned, hugging back, “I was still at Bessie’s house, so I decided to come over! Hey, Cathy.”

“Hey, Maggie.” Cathy smiled at her.

“What are you guys doing?”

“Helping Anna and Anne train,” Cathy said, “Since Catherine is with Jane and the mare, we were gonna watch and help out here. We got a race coming up.” Pride leaked into her voice. “How’s your jockey coming along? Bessie said she’s getting into horse racing.”

Maggie inwardly winced, but, luckily, doesn’t actually do it to where anyone can see.

“Joan’s doing good! She struggled a little at first, but she’s come a long way.” She then smirked, “You guys better be ready for some competition.”

Cathy actually laughed loudly at that. Katherine grinned brightly.

“Oh, we are!” Cathy said.

“Speak of the Devil!” Katherine yipped.

Maggie turned around to see a blonde girl, barely eighteen, with tired eyes walking a red horse with black speckles up to the track. She perks up a little.

“Joan!” She called, “What are you doing here?”

“Bessie texted me to bring Blazer over.” Joan said. Her voice was as tired as her eyes were, oozing with hidden pain she tried to shove away. It’s like she’s been shattered and pieced back together several times. She went to say something else, but stopped when she noticed the other two jockeys on the track, moving with such professionalism and perfection that it nearly made her turn around and march back home.

By the gleam in Katherine’s eye, she's caught the young jockey’s expression.

“Up you get, Joan,” She said cheerfully. “Show us those skills you've been honing!”

Joan turned to her to glare slightly, her irritation for Jane’s farmhand already bubbling. She ignores it for now, though, and grabbed the saddle horn and clambered onto Blazer’s muscular back. Surprised, the horse stumbles a little, pawing at the dirt with a front hoof. Then he settles. Somewhat. He doesn't seem happy...

Blazer hesitates. He shuffles back and forth. Under Joan’s thighs, his muscles tense, and, for a moment Joan thinks he might throw her off. Then, he cranes his head around, looking for something. Joan laughs softly and gives it to him- a sugar cube.

Cathy wrinkled her nose a little at this. Katherine attempts a little lopsided smile, while Maggie shrinks back, secondhand embarrassment stinging her insides.

“He shouldn’t be so fidgety when you get onto him,” Cathy said as gently as possible. “And you shouldn’t have to tempt him into listening to you with treats... Is he not trained?”

“He is trained!” Joan snapped, causing Blazer to stir in agitation at the tone of her voice. She quiets herself, hunching her shoulders in a little, and mutters an apology to her mount. “Blazer’s just...he has a temper. That’s all.”

Cathy and Katherine say no more on the topic. Katherine opens the gate to the track and Blazer trots through the fence.

“Hey, Joan!”

The woman on the red stallion, Anne, came charging up to Joan and, for a moment, the girl thought she was going to get trampled. But then the horse skids to a perfect halt in front of her.

“Hi, Anne.” Joan gave her a small smile. “And this is...?”

“Vincent Van GoGo.” Anne smirked proudly. “Vinnie is his normal name. Anna’s lady is Dusty. Or Avoiding Dust.”

That name was understandable. That mare looked so fast. When she was in a race, she could probably easily avoid dust.

“And who’s this?”

“Blazer.”

“Race name?”

“Race-? Oh! Out-Burn Kamikaze.”

Anne quirked an eyebrow.

“It was Maria’s idea.”

Anne laughed. “Ah! Alright. Well, why don’t you try practicing? I don’t think I’ve seen you ride before.”

Joan nods and heads off to begin.

Figure eights and loops around the yard to start, then she has Blazer hop over a few fence posts one by one. He's responding beautifully.

Now the tricky bit.

Joan urges Blazer around the curve of the track and leans forward, allowing him to speed up. He does and his canter quickly turns to a full gallop.

Wind tears through Joan’s hair as her mount ran around the track. The air feels crisp while atop the speeding beast- it was unreal.

It was amazing.

But then, all of a sudden, Blazer is spasming.

Spooked by something, the horse jerked to the side and began rearing in circles in the middle of the track. He jabbed at the air with his front hooves, shrilling frightful, or maybe furious whinnies so loud they bring Aragon, Jane, and Bessie out of the stables.

Joan helplessly cries for her steed to calm down, but her yelling only seems to spur his frenzy further. He whipped his head back and forth, turned in every direction, and reared until, finally, Joan came loose from his back and was flung to the dirt. With one final buck of his hind legs, he scampered away to try and calm himself down.

Joan lays dazed on the ground for several long seconds. Her shoulder aches in tremendous pain when she sits up, winding her further. She struggles to breathe as several other cries of horses sound around her. Avoiding Dust and Vincent Van GoGo must have gotten spooked by Blazer’s tantrum.

“Joan!!”

Someone was coming, so she angrily scrubs away her tears and forces herself to her feet. Her shoulder throbs in disagreement, but she ignores the scream of her muscles and bones.

“Joan, are you okay?” Maria asked. Worry was glinting in her eyes. “What happened?”

“I don’t know!” Joan growled, her voice cracking slightly. She sniffled and clawed away tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks again.

“Oh, sweetheart...”

“I’m going back to the farm.” Joan said. She then turned around and promptly walked over to Blazer, who bumped her reddened face as if nothing had happened.

The entirety of Royalling Stones Farm felt silent as she walked out with her horse in tow.

“Is she okay?” Bessie asked Maria the moment Joan was out on the street.

“I don’t know,” Maria answered. “She was crying, though...”

“Poor thing...” Bessie sighed.

“Is everything alright?” Jane asked.

“Besides the kid being bucked off and all.” Aragon added.

“Yeah,” Bessie said slowly. “Joan’s just...got some things going on. That’s all. Anyway...I need to be getting Maggie home. Let’s go, girls! It was good seeing you Jane. You too, Catherine.”

With goodbyes said, Bessie, Maria, and Maggie all piled into Bessie’s truck to leave.

The ride home was awkwardly silent. Maria was going to start up a conversation when Maggie suddenly yelled and pointed out the window.

“What’s going on?”

Bessie and Maria both whipped their heads around to see their jockey and her horse causing some kind of scene in a neighboring farm. When Bessie saw what farm it was, she nearly floored it and continued driving, but she couldn’t do that to Joan, so she pulled over.

“Leave her alone!” Joan was yelling. At her side, Blazer was working himself up to a proper temper, stomping his hooves and snorting.

“What’s it to you, kid?” The man she was speaking to scoffed.

“What’s it to me? The poor thing’s crying out! It’s probably whining because she’s tired. I saw you running sprints with her when I passed by. She’s panting, can’t you see? If you bring her into her stable and give her some water she should calm down, no reason to whip her.” Joan replied, matching the man’s gaze. She has herself bristled up like an angry squirrel.

The horse she was referring to was a giant void of black. The mare was huge, much bigger than Vinnie back at Jane’s farm. However, the large creature was very clearly frightened and kept crying out and pain from when her owner had whipped her.

“It’s my horse. I paid for her. I can do whatever I’d like to her.” The man said, stalking closer to Joan. “Her race name is SheBeast for a reason. Now, why don't you go off and braid your little colt’s mane whilst I try and break my mare in like a real trainer, aye?”

Joan clenched her fists tightly. Blazer was getting more and more agitated by the second, the cries of the other horse setting him off.

“Alright, that’s enough!”

The sound of Bessie’s booming voice drove Blazer into a bucking fit. The whip-wielding man leapt away as Joan held tightly to her horse’s reigns, which gets her jerked around in the process.

“Jesus fuck!” The man yelled, “Control your horse, brat! Before he kills someone!”

“I am!” Joan snapped.

“Joan.” Bessie growler. “Get Blazer under control and let’s go.”

“Bessie!” Joan said in surprise, still being yanked around by her horse. “Wait- what? We can’t leave! This man’s-“

“Ah, Elizabeth.” The man smirked widely.

“Cromwell.” Bessie spit. She grabbed Joan rougher than she intended to and pushed the girl behind her.

“Please. Use Thomas.” Thomas crooned, “You’re looking well. Better than well. Henry has been saying how good you look at the races and now I see what he means.” His eyes are hungry.

“We’re leaving.” Bessie hissed. She ignored Joan’s blubbering and pulled her to the truck as Thomas laughed and called to her mockingly.

“Bessie, we cant leave. The horse-“

“I know, Joan,” Bessie said. “It’s terrible, but there’s nothing we can do.”

“Yes there is! What’s your deal with this place? Why do you want to leave so badly? He’s hurting that horse!”

“It’s his horse.”

“That makes it worse!”

“Joan, please, you’re making a scene.”

“And you’re refusing to help that poor horse! She needs us!”

“Joan, we are not-“ Bessie cut herself off with a help of pain when Blazer suddenly bites her hand.

—————

Joan furiously threw chicken feed into the coop, tears burning down her cheeks. The birds fluttered around to eat, unaware of what she was muttering about. Not that they would care.

Geez. Was she really at such a low in her life that she thought some chickens would care about her?

(Nobody cares nobody cares nobody cares that’s why Bessie got mad Bessie is just using her)

The girl put the bucket she was using back in the main barn, then went to go get on the horses. There, she found Blazer, munching away on some alfalfa. His twin sister, a gorgeous dapple grey mare named Listener, was in the pen right beside his.

“Are you scared, too?” Joan whispered to her horse. “Is that why you won’t run?”

Blazer didn’t even look up at her.

“Were you scared when you bit Bessie? Were you...protecting me?”

Nothing.

“I’m scared, too.”

No reaction.

However, when Joan opens the corral gate, his head whips up.

Joan steps inside, bolting the door behind her, and Blazer whinnies and lifts his forelegs, mimicking a rear-up, his ears turning back- but not flattening. He doesn't show his teeth.

Joan lets Blazer circle around, but when Blazer turns to show Joan his hindquarters, she steps back, her spine pressing uncomfortably against the wooden gate.

A good jockey or trainer would have whipped the ill-tempered horse with a coil. Not enough to hurt, but enough to let the horse know it was a warning to not kick out. Hell, even a normal jockey or trainer would know that.

But Joan wasn’t normal or good.

She shrunk back further against the gate, eyeing Blazer’s powerful back legs wryly. One kick from those in the head and she’d be dead.

(Please kick please kick please kick bust open her skull smash in her brain make her no more make her no more PLEASE)

Blazer watches the girl, then huffs, nostrils flared out. His hooves settle back on the ground. Joan smiles a little, dipping her head. She steps forward.

“There we go,” She whispered. She has some sugar cubes in her pocket and puts one in her closed fist, knowing Blazer can smell it. “C'mon, you giant. What else you gonna try?”

Blazer lowers his head like she was. Then, he darts to the side, kicking up a spray of dirt, and Joan laughs, wiping her hand over her face where some hit her. Blazer tries to show his hindquarters again and Joan sidesteps, not wanting to flick her horse, even if it wouldn’t hurt. Blazer huffs trots around the corral.

“I got all the time in the world,” Joan warns the animal, as Blazer snorts and blusters again, pulls up short as if he can trick Joan into turning too far. Seems put out, huffing in annoyance when Joan proves too smart for that. Joan laughs and Blazer finally seems to calm, his ears rolling forward. He shakes his mane out and swishes his tail like a wagging dog.

Joan hums, and then she goes to the edge of the corral, keeping her eyes on Blazer. She sits back, and bends down so she can keep her thighs on one of the metal bars, but her chest is behind it, and she can put her arms over the bar above and stay upright. Blazer snorts at her, walking slowly back and forth, side to side but getting a little closer each time, like he's testing the waters. He looks almost sheepish, like someone realizing they had been blowing things way out of proportion.

Joan grins at him, and offers the sugar cube with a flat palm.

Blazer perks up with a soft whinny, ears forward, and lips delicately at the mint. He snorts at the girl, long lashes dipping over his dark, warm eyes. Joan knows horses aren't capable of having thoughts like people do, don't understand things like taxes and God, but there seems to be some focused shine in Blazer’s eyes, and Joan thinks, with a smile, that they have just come to some unspoken agreement.

“There we go,” She murmurs, petting over Blazer’s big, warm cheek. The stallion breathes out heavily, warm on Joan’s arm and chest, and swishes his tail again, taking another slow step forward. “I know, you just had to get it all outta your system.”

She laughs when Blazer nudges at her pocket, seeking another sugar cube. She pushes Blazer’s forelock to one side, scratches over his forehead, and cups his cheeks.

“Who’s my big brave boy?” She whispered to him.

It could have been pure coincidence, or, perhaps, Blazer really did understand her, but the horse paws the dirt with one hoof and bobbed his head up before returning to Joan’s hands. The girl stared in shock for a moment before a wide, giddy smile stretched on her features.

“Yes you are!” She cooed and pressed a gentle kiss to his soft nose. “You’re my big brave boy.”

Joan closed her eyes, relaxing herself as she leaned forward and pressed her forehead against Blazer’s.

“We’re gonna be champions, you and me.” She told him. “We’re partners. And we can do this. I know we can. Even if we’re scared, at least we can be scared together.”

[villainqueen]

The Marriage of Heaven and Hell - Chapter 2

V X Fem!Reader fanfiction, set after the events of Devil may Cry 5.

Prologue / Chapter 1 // Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5

Ao3 [Link]

Chapter 2

There is no mistake so great as the mistake of not going on

August 1st 11:00 am

The clicking of Nico's lighter could be heard while she lightened her next cigarette. It broke an awkward silence in the Van as she drove it to the destination of their next job. Normally they would have at least talked but thanks to the new guest who accompanied them on this road trip, Nero didn't seem to be in the mood. She couldn't really blame him; he sure must have been surprised to see V standing in Dante's office as they received their next Mission. It was strange for Dante to give them a job and not doing it himself but who could've thought they would see V again and even team up with him like they did before. After the initial: "How can you even be here!", "There is Urizen?" and "What the hell happened to Vergil?" was sorted out, they welcomed V on board. Well, at least the gunsmith did and Neo? It seemed like he needed some time to collect his own thoughts on that matter. Nico looked over to her partner in the passenger seat next to her. Lost in thoughts and grumpy, usual Nero. Sometimes she wished he would be more open to her and not eating up all his emotions. In these situations, only Kyrie could really get through to him, but she was left behind at home. And as for the other member of their team. V sat in the back, eyes closed and slouched over his cane, but not fooling anyone. Nico doubted that that guy was really sleeping, with her driving ability and the condition of the road, there was just no way.

"So… Nero what do you think about this job?" began Nico to break this awful silence.

"Go to some place, kill demons. Sounds like a normal Tuesday, if you ask me." He replied without really getting invested in a possible conversation.

"Ah, fuck this crap, can you both stop makin' this weird. Nero, I know you're glad V is back, don't try to play hot'n cold with us. And you V, you're not sleeping, can you at least say somthin' or bring out that talking chickn'. Everything is better than this shitty atmosphere here. Can't work like that!"

"Nico, just-"

"Don’t Nico me, Nero. Don't you have a book to give back?"

With that Nero reached out to the book of poems with the golden letter V on its cover, he hesitated a few seconds before he spoke up again: "V. I don't know if you want it back or if I should give it to Vergil, I mean the real one. Shit, that sounds wrong, I mean, you know what I mean..."

"I would appreciate it." Said V, as he received his beloved book back. After he stared at it for a good minute, he continued: "Nero I am not your father, you don't have to act so stiff around me. I only have very selective memory that I share with him. Our childhood, some nightmares and the past few months in Red Grave City."

"So you don't know anything about my mother?"

"No, I've never met her…"

"Ah great, the ice is broken, thought the silence never gonna end. So awkward!" Nico chimed in to change the heavy topic, now in a much better mood.

"V, can tell us something more about this job?" questioned Nero as he felt pressured by Nico to at least try to have a normal, non-depressing conversation.

"I don't have much more knowledge about the place. It's an old castle, solitary in the mountains. A magic seal got broken and now demons have claimed it."

"Okay? It's really that simple, just slaying demons again, no Urizen, no hidden surprises?" Nero could help himself but doubting V's words, well knowing what happened the last time he told them about a "simple job".

"No, I have concerns as well. That is why I accompany you on this. However even I don't know what's behind all this. I am not the client this time after all."

"Guess we just have to figure it out on our own." Nero said casually as he stretched his arms out like he was getting ready for what was waiting for them.

"Hey guys, looks like we're there soon. You can already see that old place over there. Better buckle up, this small mountain road could be a bit bumpy." Nicoletta laughed as she made a sharp right turn on to a small road that lead upwards directly to the castle.

"Are you certain you want to use this road? It doesn't look like it's safe."

"No backseat drivin' here V, I got this, I can get this baby to any place, ya should know that by now!"

"Nico, the question here is not if we'll arrive, it’s more about if we'll survive!" Nero shouted while grabbing his seat. The road was narrow and not some everyday concrete path, needless to mention that their Van was not made for off road driving. Something Nico frankly never cared about.

August 1st 11:45 am

With a loud bang Nero closed the car door behind him. Standing now in front of the large gate that separated the outside from their destination.

"It looks we are not the first ones to arrive." mentioned V as he gestured with his cane to other vehicles parked on the outside nearby them.  A group of four, soldier looking, guys stood beside an army jeep near them, all dressed in protective gear that made them look like they were ready to go to war.

"Great, G.I. Joe and his buddies are here too." frowned Nero while gearing up. His trusty sword Red Queen on his back and his revolver Blue Rose by his side. V had less weight to carry, only his simple cane and the book he ever so often sunken his nose into.

Nico meanwhile was tapping the ash of her cigarette out of the car window while instructing both men: "Yo guys, I'm gonna wait here, can't drive that van in a castle after all, come back if ya find some nice demon parts, got it!"

"Yeah, yeah you don’t have to tell us that…" Nero said as he saw one of the soldier guys approaching them. He had no hair, sunglasses and a scarred face. The perfect caricature of a though soldier guy. "Whattya kids doing here? Go home to ya mamas, this place is dangerous!"

"Whatever sergeant dickhead, why don’t you mind your own business?" answered Nero in his usual standoffish manner. This did not set well with the unknown man as he grabbed Nero by the color and growled in the young devil hunters face: "Ya better watch yaself, that place is full of monsters and no human came back from it yet, would be a shame if ya end up like em!"

"Thank you for the kind warning!" said V politely but with a grim expression as he held his cane to the man’s neck. Nero wasn't one to let that slide either, his revolver in silent motion pressed against his aggressors’ body, ready to pull the trigger.

The bald guy released Nero from his grip as he proceeds to walk back while shouting: "Let yaself get killed kids, if that’s whattya after! Just don't get in the way!"

"What an asshole!" Nero muttered but before he could antagonize the soldier any further V changed the topic: "Let's see that this is all about, we didn't come to fight humans!"

Both men went off to the castle, passing the front gate that led them to the front court. It looked like it was well maintained even through it was supposed to be untouched for a long time. Yet, no birds were to hear, giving the place an awful ominous feeling despite the bright midday sun. They could hear rustling between the bushes that began slowly to surround them as they made their way towards the front door.

"Do you see that?" V asks pointing is cane towards some lifeless bodies a few feet in front of them.

"Looks like we're not the first but really dying before even getting in that place, that sucks. Good thing the pest-control is here now!" And in no time Nero took his Red Queen from his back, letting its engine roar. This was the sign for around twenty to thirty Msira, little monkey like demons, to crawl out of the surrounding woodwork. Those Msira, who are unlike their size would suggest, quite an opponent, especially in numbers.

"Very well, let us see if my powers are enough to deal with these vermin!" remarked V while pointing is cane up summoning on of his demon familiars.

"About time, Shakespeare! Thought you wanted to deal with them yourself. Not that I’d recommend that…" The demon bird Griffon materialized itself and wasted no time to open it's cheeky beak: "Let’s deal with them quick, you're still a wimp, you know! Doubt you can keep me up for long!"

We a slight smirk on his face V stated: "The true method of knowledge is an experiment. Now go and destroy them."

"I don't get what you mean by that, but the last part, that’s my jam!" Nero responded even though he was not addressed and all three of them started to slash through the Msira. It didnIt took them long, a few minutes at most and every demon defused into air. However, Griffon was also at its limit.

"That's it V, told ya that you can't sustain me for long. See ya later!" With that the demon bird became a puddle of black mud before it completely vanished.

"I've reached my limit faster than expected. I need to gain more power." V whispered to himself while marching onward to the front gate of the castle. Not wasting any time, Nero pushed the heavy door open, which led them into a grand, dim light, entrance hall. It had a heavy atmosphere to it, almost like they just entered a haunted mansion. At the end between two staircases that led to the upper floors was a statue of an angel holding a sun and a moon in its hands. The light from the outside was hardly illuminating the room as the stained-glass windows kept most of the light outside, instead several big chandeliers with countless candles gave light to the place. A few bodies could be seen on the floor and gave the demon hunters a clear indication that demons entered the castle as well.

"Man, this place gives me the creeps…" said Nero, as he looked around.

"It sure has an interesting architecture, while I personally would resign from decorating it with corpses." V answered and after a quick look around he continued: "Did you notice Nero? This castle is still in such a perfect condition, even after hundreds of years untouched."

"Now that you mention it, even the candles are still burning… it's almost as if time stopped for it."

"Exactly!" V had come to the same conclusion. The castle wasn't just sealed to prevent entrance, it was frozen in time till the moment those demons broke the barrier.

"And this guy must have been the owner!" Nero claimed, pointing to a portrait of a middle-aged man with a stern expression. Under it was a golden nameplate mounted to the wall.

"Count Caius the first, well isn't that a nice fellow..." Nero joked but was quickly brought back to the task at hand as he heard human screams coming from the westside of the castle.

"Sadly, admiring the art has to wait." chuckled V in response.

"Sure, wasn’t my taste anyways, let's finish this and get out of this place."

And with that both men hurried to the west wing of the castle towards the inner courtyard.

[rovvboat]

What Are Those? - Colossus x Reader

*Requested by the wonderful @emma-frxst - Prompt: What Are Those?*

A/N: henlo!! I know the request was for about something that piotr doesn’t know about / something he doesn’t know how to say in English - but i couldn’t come up with anything ;-; B U TTT it made me think of one specific thing which is kinda unique!! - I’ll attach a picture of it at the bottom ;)) and if any of you readers wanna try it, you could possibly get it from a local store!! 

Really hope you enjoy it! :)

Word count: 1.4k

Summary: There’s a suspicious surprise at the front door from reader, and Wade and Colossus love it. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

‘’Listen, we don’t want these hairy-looking balls. I like that they’re red, but they’re much too hairy for my liking. How is anyone supposed to eat these anyway?’’

You wake up to the sound of Wade bickering with someone at the front door.

‘’Sir, this delivery is for Mr/Ms. Y/L/N. Are they home right now?’’ you hear a familiar voice ask calmly. You quickly get up off the bed and rifle through the closet, looking for your robe. You find the pastel pink cloak and cover yourself with it – securing it with a knot at your waist. You tiptoe back to the bed and lean over Colossus, still sound asleep, and place a kiss on his cheek. Just as you turn around to leave, a hand finds yours and gently tugs at you. You stop and look back as Colossus rises from the bed; stretching out his free hand and bringing it over his mouth to cover a yawn

‘’Good morning, keesa (kitten). Where are you off to?’’

You take a step closer to him as he wraps his arm around your waist. ‘’It’s a surprise.’’ You whisper into his ear before walking towards the door. He smiles at your figure, as you disappear into the hallway.

You trod down the steps as Wade and the delivery man were still arguing about the delivery.

‘’Listen here Mr. Hair Balls Delivery, I have no idea what these are and I have no intention of claiming responsibility for them – even though I would love to. But this is quite clearly a prank, and Wade Wilson does not fall for – ‘’

‘’Ah, Mr. Wilson! I’ve heard many stories about you… Y/N has spoken – ‘’

‘’Hey there, Michael! Is that for me?’’ You ask the delivery man as you take the last step down the stairs.

‘’Michael? So, you’re on a first name basis with the hairy balls man?’’ Wade quips. Michael gives Wade an amused look, then looks back to you and laughs.

‘’Hiya Y/N! Yeap! And I now have had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Wilson as well.’’ He said with a nod to Wade. He lifts the crate and makes his way into the kitchen. It’s filled with ping-pong sized fruits, each of them coloured a bright shade of red with greenish, soft hair-like projections.

They were exactly what the doctor ordered.

You sign the delivery form on the clipboard as Michael helps bring the crate into the kitchen and places it onto the countertop. ‘’These are fresh from the greenhouse. Mr. Jones made sure that you got the freshest pick of the day.’’ He says proudly.

You say a quick thank you to him and he tips his hat at you; ‘’Nice meeting you Mr. Wilson!’’ He calls out before hurrying out the front door back to his van.

‘’Are you fucking kidding me? You really ordered all this?’’ Wade asks in disbelief. ‘’Sorry missy, the only hairy balls I like are– ‘’

‘’Wade, no, please. These are for the kids.’’

‘’WHAT? For the children?’’ Wade exclaims with his hands on his cheek.

‘’What is all this ruckus about?’’ A heavy accent floats into the room.

‘’Hey, Colossus! Your girlfriend’s making us eat these… hairy balls!’’ He accuses dramatically, pointing at the crate. ‘’Please make her stop!’’

Colossus steps into the kitchen – surprisingly, in his human form – and gives you a little kiss on the cheek, before pouring himself a hot cup of coffee. He spots the crate, overflowing with the red berries.

‘’What are those, myshka?’’ he asks, a kind of inquisitive concern plastered on his face. You laugh at that look.

‘’They’re just fruits, bub. And God knows Wade needs more of those in his damn system.’’

‘’These are… fruits? I have never seen such… unique looking fruits before.’’

‘’They aren’t native to America. I found them at a local market in Asia while I was on a mission there! They’re exquisite!’’ You reply.

Both Colossus and Wade look bemused at this statement. You let out a light whine.

‘’Listen, I thought they were weird too. But I saw a bunch of kids eating them and they looked pretty happy with it! I tried one and it was so sweet and fleshy and it felt more like sweet treat than fruits! You gotta trust me on this.’’ You implore.

‘’Fine. But if I choke on these hairy motherfuckers, I’m burning the whole crate.’’ Wade exclaims.

He plucks one of the berries off its stem and inspects it. He sniffs it before opening his mouth, slowly bringing the fruit – thick dense skin and all – towards his gaping mouth.

‘’NO, WADE. Not like that, you moron! You gotta open up the skin first. Like this –’’

You grab one of the rambutans, or mamon chino as they’re called in central America, and skillfully place your thumbs onto the equator of the berry. You apply some pressure, pulling it apart from the ends, revealing its white, translucent flesh. You take it out and show it to the boys.

‘’This right here, is the main event, my compadres. There’s a seed in there. You’re supposed to eat around it, but it’s big enough that you can bite around it while it’s in your mouth! You gotta make sure to throw away the seed though.’’ You present the berry to Wade, who by now is a lot less puzzled and open to eating the much more innocent looking white fleshy berry. He pops it into his mouth and carefully bites on it.

‘’Ho-ly fucksicles, thes-e ah-ren’t hh-alf bad!’’ He says between eating and sucking on the berry. ‘’And they’re this sweet? Bring on the diabetes!’’

You look at him, happy that he’s enjoying the foreign berry. You turn to Colossus, who’s still sipping on his coffee.

‘’Your turn, big boy.’’ You say to him with a smirk. You pick out a bright red berry, nice and ripe – some mildew still on it, adding that much more to its allure – and split it open clean. You present the fleshy berry, still cradled in the half-open skin. He gently takes it out of the leathery casing, and bites a little off the berry.

‘’C’mon Piotr! You’re not getting the full experience here! Put it in your mouth and suck on it!’’

You immediately regret saying it as you hear Wade bellow into laughter.

‘’You probably hear that pretty often, don’t ya Coco?’’ He looks from Colossus, to you. ‘’Wow, way to bring your bed room talk public, Y/N! If you wanted me to join you, you could’ve just asked me straight up, no need to tease.’’

You bring a palm to your face, embarrassed by what’s happened. Colossus gently places a hand on your arm, and you look up to him. He puts the berry into his mouth and closes it; and his eyes widen.

‘’I know better than to doubt your tastes, kisa.’’ He says, clearly pleased with how nice this new fruit tastes.

‘’That was the surprise! See, these are great when you peel them and leave them in the fridge. They’d be a great substitute for ice-cream. I know you’ve been talking about getting the X-kiddos to eat more fruits and I think that if we put like little wooden picks into them, they’d look like round mini-popsicles! And, and – ‘’ you open the fridge to look at all the other fruits inside– ‘’We could also put all the other fruits onto them…’’ You ramble on excitedly as Colossus watches you, neither of you noticing Wade pick out half the fruits from the crate and sneak out of the kitchen.

Colossus wraps his arm around your waist and slowly pulls you to him. Your body twists around as your eyes meet his gaze; tender and warm all over. You tilt your head at him.

‘’What are you looking at?’’ you say with a smile.

‘’The most beautiful soul in the world. ty moye sokróvishche – you are my treasure.’’

Your face turns red within seconds, you look away for a moment, clearly flustered as Colossus laughs. ‘’It is fun seeing you embarrassed. But what I say is from my heart, lyubímaya (beloved)’’

He’s still holding onto you, and you take this chance to pull him in – allowing your lips to meet in a gentle kiss as your hand finds his cheek, and your thumb leaves strokes on the light stubble of his face.  

You slowly break the kiss, and when you take a quick look behind Colossus, you see half the crate’s contents missing.

‘’Oh my God. WADE!’’ You holler after him, spotting a trail of berry stems leading out of the kitchen. You follow the trail looking for Wade, and suddenly you get a fuzzy feeling in your chest and smile, as you detect a hint of coffee and sweet berry on your tongue.

[witchqueenofthemoon]

BODY AND SOUL Part 27 (Duncan Shepherd/Mackenzie Stone Millory AU)

BODY AND SOUL MASTERPOST

Author’s Note: I always knew the cabin stuff was gonna be pretty long; this is ostensibly Part 1 of 3 that involve the cabin and the narrative surrounding it, a major part of my fic. Please refer to this in particular, which was a major influence on the mythology I’ve built around this particular place--especially the black oak circle--and its connection with Duckenzie’s destiny. I’m so excited for all of you who have reached this part of their journey with them; while I’m using these chapters as an excuse to write LOTS of sex and doting for them (which I fucking live for), they’re also really important to the arc of the wider narrative I’ve been weaving from the beginning; the crux of what pulled this fic out of the relatively small story I had originally planned into something huge and cosmically beautiful--a project that has changed my life, a project I will finish, or die in the attempt thereof. The cabin’s kitchen looks like this. Duncan’s herb grinder is this one, for y’all stoners like me who care about shit like that. Sweet alyssum looks like this (here’s some in pink and white). The mental picture of Duncan with those little flowers in his hair is such a beautiful one to me. A reminder that Kenzie’s bikini looks like this, the rust-colored slip dress looks like this. In order to really understand a major aspect of my story, I feel it’s important to read a little about the concept of the Divine Feminine, a major tenant of witchcraft--I’m a solitary practitioner, and though my Kenzie is not overtly Pagan, she is Pagan-minded regarding how she conducts her life; coming to understand her powers will bring her closer to owning her witch identity for real. The Divine Feminine in my story is certainly not limited to Kenzie, either, and it’s very important that everyone who cares about Duckenzie understands that; Duncan learning to nurture, understand and respect his own feminine divinity, within and outside of his relationship with Kenzie, is a huge aspect of this story. Kenzie kneeling in the flowers was definitely inspired by these shots of Mallory in APOCALYPSE. The spiral of the flowers is not coincidental--the spiral is a very old symbol, symbolizing the cyclical nature of the universe and everything in it, so keep that in mind. If you haven’t noticed, roses are an important part of the imagery of my story--the working title for this fic was DARK RED ROSES once upon a time for like half a second, and Duncan calls her the Queen of Roses in his thoughts because they will forever be associated with her in his mind--it was that rosy balcony where he first saw her, and like the clearing surrounded by black oaks, the balcony was a Thin Place. I’ve been working hard on 28, so that delayed me editing this part--the good news is I’ll probably be done with 28 by the end of the day tomorrow. Here are some super cute pics I found of Billie where she really looks like Kenzie. As ever, your likes, reblogs, comments, asks and edits mean the world to me.

Duncan’s mouth was open on the fiercely soft skin above Kenzie’s breasts, drifting against the Tiffany moon, his hands urgently searching for the tie that held her sun-colored top over them, his mind adrift in her with an overwhelming strength that was making him gasp--the bed was so silken-soft, the light so sweet and golden in the daylight, and the energy in the room seemed suddenly hazy with the weight of their thoughts; Kenzie’s were rapid, heightened, pressing him with mutual relief, kindling up a desire in him that inflamed.

“Oh my fucking goddess, baby--fucking fuck me.”

Queen of Roses. Not just the Princess. The Queen. The highest and most beautiful. The height of all my desires and every pleasure of my heart.

“Oh, I fucking will, Miss Stone,” he spoke into her skin, against her neck, into her ear. “I heard you, baby. We have nowhere to be. This is the only place in the world, and there’s only you and me, and I’m gonna make you fucking scream, I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good, Kenzie, moonbeam--” Kenzie writhed under his touch, a nervous, ecstatic laugh drifting out of her.

He found the tie at her waist as his mouth fell onto hers again--oh thank Fate, fuck--his fingers demandingly pulling it apart, drawing the soft fabric away from her, eager beyond all feeling to touch her. Since this morning, her little mouth so adoring around him, his senses for her had been urging him on to a desirous undoing for her--Mackenzie. Kenzie. Baby. My fucking baby. As wonderful as it is to taste you, as exquisite as it is to have your mouth on me, beloved, it’s fucking you, fucking you as we gasp against each other that brings us closest, so irrevocably close, kindles that feeling in me of not knowing where I start when I’m inside you, not feeling the divide of our bodies anymore, never wanting to come away, feeling truly as though wherever we were once separated, we’re tied together again, whole. So before we do anything else today, I’m going to fuck you. Right now. Fuck me, beloved, and let’s get lost in each other, my Persephone, my Ariadne bathed in stars, my Titania of the flowering forest.

Kenzie was lifting up as he gripped her in the space under her shoulder blades, her eyes heavy-lidded as she listened to his thoughts; he easily held her slight weight, keeping his grasp wildly tender. She pushed the top from her arms, and Duncan was lowering her back to the bed (oh fuck it’s so fucking soft, I could lay here with you all day, for days and days), her golden hair scattering around her in a wide halo, his fingers clutched tight around the roundness of her breasts now--he’d slipped them under the softness of her little black bikini top, and Kenzie’s slender chest was heaving, her breathing labored with the immediacy of his touch as he kneaded his palms into her supple skin. He could feel the tiny fluttering vibration of her heart under his thumbs, and it was making his cock jump against the front of the jersey shorts, urging him to make her moan. Speak, angel. Tell me of your need in this sacred space that exists only for us right now.

Kenzie’s little fingers (so delicate, so sweet and small, I love your hands, Kenzie baby) were drifting up to his open collar, undoing the buttons below with gentle speed, their smoothness sending a burst of shivering warmth down his spine, into the space between his legs where his cock was beginning to strain as he knelt over her, his body dipped down on her. Her mouth was so wet and tasted so sweet, her little tongue quivering against his, the tiny longing sounds she made under his lips, and he fought the faintness she was causing; it was gathering like wild, stray flowers, into a bloom in his mind. Fuck, I want you so much, I feel like I’m going to actually pass out, baby.

“I could just die,” she was whispering. “The way I can feel you right now, the way you touch me, baby, the sweetness of your thoughts, how beautiful you are--Duncan, baby, how you kiss me--”

“Remember that first night, Kenzie,” he was murmuring into her mouth, his fingers drifting down the jut of her hip bones, into the denim shorts, down the prickly slightness of the shorn hair around the lips of her sex, letting his fingers hover there. “Remember when you first let me kiss you, angel of heaven? Your little velvet dress, the crystal at your throat, those shoes that left red welts on your beautiful little ankles--remember how you told me you’d come home with me? God, I thought I was going to die right then.” Duncan was drifting the hand up from her sex now--I’m gonna tease you a little, angel baby. We have all the time in the world. I’m gonna make you so fucking wet. Drifting it to the button of her shorts, pulling the zipper down with an ease that brought a wet glow into her jade-hazel eyes, her little mouth open as she listened to him speak, releasing tiny gasps, her thoughts swirling and chaotic with want for him. The soft black of the bikini bottoms peeked from where he’d opened the zipper, and Duncan brought the flat of one palm against the mound of her there, the softness between her legs, using his other hand to pull slowly at the shorts. Kenzie wiggled a little from where he held her down, and the shorts eased off her thighs after a moment. She kicked her Vans off and they tumbled to the floor--then Duncan was dipping back to yank the shorts away, discarding them to the floor as well, kicking his own shoes off, lost in admiration of her body in the bikini. Kenzie’s little hands had managed to undo every button of his shirt now, and he ripped it away, impatiently, mouth still shivering into hers--then he lifted up, pressing his hand harshly between her legs again, heart aching at the whimper that fell out of her, and then Duncan smiled.

“For you, Kenzie, I surrendered my soul in an instant. I may not have really understood that in the moment--but I do now. I would do anything for you.” And this he spoke into her jaw, lips drifting along its delicate curve. “Anything. You--an angel. In my bed, and now that bed is ours, and right now this one is too, isn’t it, baby? This is our bed.”

“Yes,” Kenzie whispered, and the pleading in her voice made him bite his lip, close his eyes, force his need back with an insistent hand.  “Yes, fuck, Duncan, yes, hmmmh,” and she was kneading against him, moving her hips so she pressed into his hand cupped around her, “Gimme your big cock in this beautiful bed, fuck me, Dunny baby--”

He moved his fingers down now, to the crook where her thighs began on either side of her cunt, and pressed outward, then up, so her knees were pressing into her belly, the underside of her thighs clutched in his tight grip, the lips of her visibly folding into the slight fabric covering her sex. Kenzie moaned again, her eyes closing at the demand of his movements; now I have you right where I want you, Princess Kenzie, and I’m gonna make you want my cock with terrible, aching need before I give it to you, before I fuck you hard. I know you want me to--I can feel the golden coil of your desire, telling me what you need.

“Who’s your Prince, baby?” Duncan dipped his hips down so his crotch rode up against hers, against the strain of her cunt still wrapped tightly in the dark fabric, lifted his body up so they were flush against each other there, the hardness of his erection pressing into the outline of her, then back down, causing an aching friction that sent sharp needles of want through him--he felt Kenzie shudder deeply, her thighs shivering violently under where his hands gripped them harshly, felt her cunt spasm along his length, and her head dipped up, her hands finding his jaw, flitting over the stubble on his cheeks, her little mouth open, beginning to abandon all sense of her composure.

“Uhmmm, you are, Dunny, only you, you’re my angel Prince--I want you to fuck me till I’m raw--”

“Not until you tell me whose baby you are. Tell me who you belong to, baby.”

“Unh, you. I belong to you.”

“Say it again.” He let go of her thighs now, pushing himself against her again, as harshly as he could, riding his cock against the fabric that contained them, his hands clutching her little wrists and forcing her arms up over her head, straining them against the silken strands of her golden hair fanning out around her head--like your halo. I will bring you sweetest ecstasy, my goddess, I will worship you most faithfully for all my life, I ache to be your most supplicant admirer, truly, you must know that I do, you must know that I would die for you, I would die and love to die if it was what you wanted--

“I belong to you, Duncan. I’m yours forever. Fucking please--” Her voice needled up into a piteous cry that made him feel as though his mind were about to come undone, unhinge from itself and float away into the ether of oblivion. His mouth tasted at her, cutting her words off, swallowing her cry, his fists pressing her wrists down into the impossibly soft bed, pressing so hard he worried for a moment that he’d leave bruises on her skin, but could feel her thought--leave them, I want bruises from you, beloved, I want to see your devotions on my skin--and the sweet softness of her mouth was promising him that she meant it, her tongue laving out along his bottom lip, her hips bucking up to press her cunt against the fabric that covered his straining cock. He let go of one of her wrists, keeping his fist around the other, his gold Cartier bracelet digging into her, the diamonds on hers leaving tiny welts on his arm--and forced the hand that was now free into the waistband of the black fabric at her sex, rough, demanding, running his thumb into her cunt, now soaking wet for him, bringing it back to her clit and pressing there, unrelenting. Kenzie keened up against him, and her breasts were pressing into the top of his chest for a moment and he shivered to feel her sweet warmth, to smell the sweetness that lingered around her face, and then he was letting go of her other wrist, knowing what she wanted to do--she slid the shorts from his hips so they pooled around his knees, and keeping his hand at her clit as though it were tethered there, he slid out of them; the remainder of their clothing was pushed over the bed so it fell to the floor, discarded.

They were in the very center of the huge bed now, and to Duncan it felt as if they were floating in the middle of some impossibly smooth cloud. He paused for just a moment, Kenzie’s lithe body spread out under him, the irresistible curve of her hips attracting the grip of his hands with a magnetic pull, her face aglow with iridescent arousal and happiness, her fingers dipping in a little fist under her chin, her eyes fixated on his face.

“Kenzie, sweetest, loveliest, beloved--” he dipped his mouth to her ear, unable to stop himself, wanting to give her the roughness he could feel she desired, but lost in his own rosy thoughts, his own deep need to worship her endlessly. “You are so beautiful it fucking staggers me.” She was giggling against the tickle of his breath, and Duncan was overwhelmed so utterly with his love for her he had to steady himself, had to slow his mind, drift away from it, for fear that he’d die right there, die of the immensity of it. Then, he slid his arms under her, against the terrible softness of the bed, and lifted her onto his lap, lifted her so for a moment her golden hair tossed against his cheeks, so her mouth was hovering above his, so her breasts were pressing into his chest, sliding against him with such a yielding ache, the back of her thighs pressing into the top of his, the hard length of his erection pressing between the lips of her, into her clit, and he moaned against her throat as she cried out near his ear, and then he was lifting her up and forcing her down onto his cock, clutching her under one breast and at her hip, holding her steady as he rode up into her, humming into her skin as she began to buck onto him, grinding down so he was buried in her, entirely.

Duncan’s thumb came down and pressed against her clit again, and he spoke into her ear.

“Remember when you rode me like this, that first night? Your hair and your necklace glittered in the low light, and your mouth was open, just as it is now--and I knew you would belong to me, from the way you gave yourself to me, oh Kenzie, I knew you were mine--” he was gasping now, gasping for breath, gasping to feel her, to see her with her head thrown back now, eyes to the ceiling, her mind a swirling maelstrom of gold, lost in his words, loving them utterly as he knew she was. Keep talking, baby, keep saying such beautiful things. Tell me everything and fuck me.

Duncan was pounding his hips up into her with so much force, his cock burying itself in her with such abandon, he worried he’d rend her in two, her breasts and arms shivering terribly against him, her eyes full of ecstatic, oblivious brightness. He paused for a moment, the entirety of him inside her, the wetness between her legs sliding down his thighs in dripping trails.

“I love you, I love your golden hair, your lips, your throat and your eyes--I worship you, unnnh, Kenzie, Mackenzie, you are the goddess of my heart, unggg, you are the most divine of all beings--” Duncan suddenly lifted her up so he slid out of her, and she gasped in surprise, and he was flipping her over forcefully, pushing her down on all fours on the vast silken bed, hand gripping the back of her neck downwards, her little palms coming out to hold herself up, and her ass slid up towards him. Duncan brought his fingers up to tangle into her hair, then gripped it harshly, pulling her head back--then he buried himself into her cunt, seeing the veins on his cock straining with hardness before he did, and now he was riding into her from behind with a wildness that bordered on a Bacchanalian trance--they were facing the painting of Cupid and Psyche now, and his mind prickled with the combined tenderness of it, his tenderness for her against the hedonistic lust he felt for her, inside her this way.

“Unnnng, fuck my little cunt, baby, fuck me--” Kenzie murmured, her fingers clutching the luxuriant gold-and-white spread, pressing her ass back to receive him, and he slid back so all of his length retreated from her, then he forced himself back inside her, entirely, so his balls smacked up into the lips of her vulva, and jerked her head back further so he could see her eyes rolling up into her head, the open drift of her mouth as she lost herself inside the feeling of him, feel the twist of her head under the forceful pull of his hand.

“God, I love your little cunt so much, I’m gonna fuck you so hard while we’re here, I’m gonna make your little cunt so fucking pink and sore, baby--” he was keening into her, burying himself in her, pressing his whole body against her; Duncan pressed her head down now into the bed so her cheek dipped to the side, her little breaths gasping against the silken sheet, and he lifted her hips higher so he could see the raw, rosy darkness that was spreading through the space between her legs, the color of his attentions, see the redness at the pucker of her ass where he knew he’d fucked her so well last night, fucked her so hard, pressed his come inside her with the plug afterwards and kept his need inside her. “We’re gonna fuck so much you won’t be able to walk, baby, we’re gonna fuck so hard you won’t be able to move--”

“Uhhhghh, Dunny--” He could feel how close she was hovering to her orgasm, and he immediately stopped, now, stopped and pulled out of her, though he still pressed her neck into the bed, holding her steady, and Kenzie dissolved into a shivering moan of frustrated need that set his heart on fire--”Mhhhhh, Dunny, please--please--mmph, put it back, gimme your cock, spank me--”

“That’s it, angel, I knew that’s what you wanted, I felt it--tell me again. Say it again, baby.”

“Spank me. Fucking spank me.”

“Yes, Princess Kenzie.”

Keeping the hand steady at her neck, holding her rigidly prostrate, Duncan brought his open palm down, immediate and harsh, on Kenzie’s right ass cheek. The snap reverberated across the wide room, and Kenzie let out a little scream that rang in his ears, making him smile immediately, making his cock smack against the space between her legs, straining. He watched her cunt spasm, felt her shudder under his hand.

“Mmmphhyes,” Kenzie cried, and then, demandingly, “do it again, again, right now, do it again.”

Duncan smacked her left cheek now, first with the palm of his hand, then the flat of it, as hard as he could--Kenzie keened forwards from the force of it, a gasp rattling out of her, the sound of her choking on the spittle that had been sucked back into her throat. “Uhhhhhyes,” she moaned. “Again.”

Duncan could see the rising red welts he had caused--already he knew he’d left a mark that would linger on the left side, but he felt utterly beholden to her demand now, lost in his lust. Hearing his hidden hesitancy, Kenzie spoke again, her voice (the sweetest of all sounds to me) drifting up to him from where he pressed her. “Do it, Duncan. Leave marks. I want it, baby. I want you to leave your mark on me. Do as I say.”

Duncan felt his skin flush, felt himself quake under the power in her words, knew that as much as she wanted him to do it, his desire to give her the pleasure she demanded was even stronger--I would do fucking anything for you, Mackenzie Stone. I can’t speak of the things I would do in the face of my love for you. I am utterly yours for all time. There is nothing for me without you. Whatever you ask of me, know I would do it. No holy terror I would not face. No fearful, dreadful task I would not undertake. No darkness I wouldn’t swallow. I fear nothing if it is in your name.

So he brought his hand up once more, and then down with as much force as he could onto the right side of her ass again--Kenzie keened forward once more, gasping out a cry that was stifled in her surprise, and she sucked air in sharply as he smacked her again on the left, and then he buried his cock into her cunt again, unable to stand the coolness of the bare air against him anymore, unable to bear the sight of her dripping sex, convulsing and empty, and he pulled her head up from the sheet and flushed her against him, his arms trapping her little body as he knelt into her, mouth at her jaw, fingers rubbing harshly at her swollen clit--her hands gripped up around his arms, her faced turned up to Cupid and Psyche there, and he heard her whisper “that’s us, baby, that’s us, fucking divine,” and she was coming now, her tiny shape shivering with such intense force in his grip, her voice screaming out so utterly that he immediately felt his own release, suddenly, unexpectedly, coaxed out of him with her impossible sweetness, her utter abandon, and she was turning her head as they came together, their open-mouthed kiss the melding of their souls, their minds melding together, high in some other, more ethereal place for that moment, in the place where they had wings imperceptible to human eyes, where they had eyes made of galaxies, hair of sunlight, clothing woven in impossible geometry. It’s you who are divine, Mackenzie Stone. I’m merely blessed to be in your light. Her golden softness against him in the daylight was, for a moment, so like a dream, he wondered if they’d fallen into an impossibly vivid fantasy, a place that was untethered from all reality.

But no--you’re no dream, my love. You are the realest, the truest, most irrefutable of all things.

------

For a little while they had laid quietly, clutching each other, still lost in the center of the golden-cream bed, its smoothness still kindling his senses to a strange high; Duncan pressed soft, imploring kisses along her cheeks, at her eyelids, the bridge of her nose. For a little while Kenzie seemed to drift in a wordless oblivion of post-coitus, her eyes fluttering, her throat spasming with tiny movements as she swallowed, her arms shivering almost imperceptibly under his hands as her mouth dipped open, her hands drifting at his jaw, falling back and forth over the stubble. I love this, he could hear her thinking, over and over in an endless circling. I love this, I love the feeling of you here, I love the soft-prickly touch of you, I love you, I love the curve of your jaw here, I love you, I love touching you here, love you…

His hands fell down to her ass, feeling there tenderly--he coul sense the wincing shiver in her as he did, and ached to know she felt pain he had caused, even if she had asked for it--”ugh, Kenzie, are you okay?” He dipped his head up to look at the marks he’d left--he could see the dark red outline of his palms on both cheeks, and knew there were would be bruises on her tomorrow.

“Baby, it’s okay. I loved it. I wanted it. It--it fucking feels so good. I like it when you’re rough like that with me. I asked you to do it, okay? It was perfect.” And she was pulling his face down to her mouth and kissing him and sending long waves of reassuring, lovely gold into him, where they cascaded down from the top of his head into his body, and Duncan was staggered again by the power he knew she had inside her. I’m blessed to be near you at all. I can’t even fathom it.

Kenzie leaned back from him, eyes gazing at him insistently. “Baby, go get some of that weed, okay? I wanna smoke a little. Then we’ll bring the picnic basket down to the lake.”

“Ugh, yes, baby. Yes.” Duncan slid out of her arms, finding his underwear and the jersey shorts where he’d thrown them to the floor, pulling them on, glancing over to her in the middle of the bed as he did; her hair was still fanning out around her, her expression quiet and deeply content, her little mouth dipping open, her eyes falling up and down over his form. He leaned back over her, dipping his head down over her hip, pressing his lips into her left ass cheek where the redness was swelling, hand coming under it to cup it softly. She moaned softly, hand falling in his hair--then he leaned away and went to the open doorway, glancing into her face over his shoulder. “I’ll be right back, baby, wait till you try this stuff, it’s so good, the high is so gradual and steady, it practically feels like an edible.”

Kenzie smiled at him, dreamily, and Duncan had to turn away, feeling lost, consumed for a moment inside his longing for her, her golden hair, the roundness of her breasts, the space between her legs. No matter how much I’m with you, no matter how often we fuck, it never feels like enough. I want you again. And again. And again.

Duncan was drifting inside these thoughts, distracted deep within them, when he realized with a shock that he was outside; the warmth of the afternoon was on his skin, the gentle wind off the lake drifting into his curls and and down his naked torso--wait, how did I get outside so quickly? Did I really walk through the house and down the stairs and out the door without noticing?

Wait.

Duncan tried to backtrack to the bedroom for a moment; tried to rewind the last few moments, retrace his steps. But he couldn’t visualize walking through the house--he couldn’t feel the wood under his feet or see the shape of the chandelier on the landing, couldn’t feel himself descending the stairs. Oh, fuck. I think I did it again, he thought. I think I moved again--without moving. He went to the G-Class, parked quietly on the gravel. Duncan stepped gingerly over it with bare feet, noticing his legs were shaking a little--he opened the trunk and pulled his Prada suitcase towards him, unzipping it and pulling his Armani sandals out, slipping them onto his feet, then set about the work of moving the other Yeti cooler and the picnic basket inside, as well as both suitcases and Kenzie’s tote bag with the books, the fireside cooking kit, and the picnic blanket and piles of lovely quilts Kenzie had ordered. Once everything was inside the house, Duncan brought both of the coolers into the rustically-styled kitchen; it had long windows overlooking the woods on the eastern side of the house, and an island in the middle made of a long slab of oak, rustic tree trunks fitted closely together to make up the base, and latticed stools with oak legs, cool-silver appliances mixed in with the wood embellishments of the counter tops. Duncan hauled both coolers onto the island tabletop, then the picnic basket beside it. The Yetis should keep everything cold for another hour or so, he knew. We’ll pack the picnic basket for the lake in a little while. For now, I need to test this theory again.

He noticed his hands were stinging a little still; stinging from his harsh slaps against Kenzie’s skin. He brought his thumbs against his palm, drifting his fingers over it, down his wrist to the gold bracelet, twisting it around absently. It wasn’t as though he’d never touched anyone else in a harsh sexual way; there were many lost nights with random partners where he remembered flashes of wanton lust, remembered his nights with Evan where he was always the dominant. But Kenzie, he thought. The idea of hurting her in any way is nightmarish to me. I understand that it gives her pleasure, but I can’t help but feel unnerved. Inside this love, I always feel untethered, absolutely unhinged with attachment towards her, and helplessly shy; helpless to behold her. To love someone this much in a world so uncertain is terrifying, and even moreso to love someone as beautiful--inside and outwardly--as she is. And to feel passion from inside it is so intense, it’s as if I’m constantly on fire. Whatever she asks for, I would die to give it to her. I know this. Utterly. It frightens me, and yet I feel so unafraid when we’re together. How strange and wondrous this love is. And it feels as though--these things happening to us are only happening because of this love. I don’t know why, or what it means. But I do feel like our love has opened some kind of door. A pathway, maybe, is a better word. The path is becoming more clear every day. The path to our destinies. And our destinies are irrevocably intertwined. Our destiny is to be together no matter what--to be together inside this greater thing that’s coming.

Duncan went back to the front doorway, where he’d left their suitcases. He gripped the handle of each in either hand. Okay. Let’s try this again. Duncan tried to visualize the bedroom, closing his eyes; the golden-creamy coverlet, the soft gauzey curtains, the gold laurels, Cupid and Psyche on the wall--and Kenzie, her hair fanning out around her like beams of sunlight, her serene expression with her eyes lifted up to him under the halo of her eyelashes, her little mouth smiling, her white breasts and dark rosy nipples, her little hands clutched along her ribs, and her wonderful, beautiful hips and thighs, the gorgeous curve of them, pressed together, hiding her sex in their dip. Mackenzie Louise. Angel of my heart. Light of my shadow.

“Duncan, fuck.”

Duncan opened his eyes--oh, shit. It worked. He was back in the bedroom, the weight of the suitcase handles still in his fingers; Kenzie had opened the window while he was away, and wind drifted cooly against the curtains. Kenzie had put her bikini back on, and she had been laying on her belly on the coverlet, her feet lifted up behind her, knees crooked, chin against her hand; she’d been facing the Swynnerton painting, no doubt gazing at it with the same sort of serene expression she usually reserved for The Youth of Bacchus; but her eyes were on him now, full of astonished confusion, her head crooked back in alarm.

Kenzie sat up, shaking her head in amazement, crossing her legs.

“You just did it twice, baby. I thought maybe the first time I imagined it, I was still coming down from my orgasm and thought I was just sort of fucked up--but that time I saw it. You popped back in here like Samantha in Bewitched. Wow, baby.”

“Kenz, see if you can do it again. See if you can move something--wait.” Duncan crouched and laid his suitcase flat, unzipping it and taking out his gold weed pipe. He laid it flat on his palm and held it up to her, looking into her eyes--they were glowing with flecks of gold, her excitement rising behind them.

“Okay. Try now. See if you can move it.”

Kenzie’s eyes squinted for a moment, biting her lip with concentration; Duncan felt the adoration of his love wash over him, watching her in her little black bikini, her tawny hair gathered over shoulder now, her hand reaching out towards him, her palm upwards, fingers curled just a little. Then Duncan glanced down at his hand--the pipe was gone from it. His eyes shot back up to Kenzie, who was grinning at him in triumph, the pipe now grasped between her thumb and index finger. “Ah ha!” she laughed, tossing her hair. “I did it again!”

“Baby, do you feel--” Duncan was going into his suitcase again, pulling out the bag of weed, a black herb grinder, and a black BIC lighter, sliding up onto the bed with her, kissing her, “--do you feel like whatever this stuff is, these things we can do--fuck it, this magic, is stronger here? That whatever it is is more potent out here? I feel like my body is charged with an electrical current, I feel like my nerves are singing--”

“Yes. Yes. That time it took almost nothing from me--it was as easy as breathing. I just thought about it for a second, and it came to me. I don’t feel dizzy or out of breath like I did before. I think I could do something a lot larger and it wouldn’t bother me at all. That’s how it feels.”

Duncan was grinding some of the blue-strain out and packing the bowl of the pipe, and his nerves still had that potent, shimmering edge--he felt high already since reappearing in the bedroom, high on the strange power of the impossible thing he had done, and the things Kenzie could do, the mystery of them.

“I was thinking, you know that feeling we were talking about--you said it seemed like we opened a door when we met, and I think the door was more like a pathway, like we opened a path, and now we’re on the path, and it’s one we only could have found after we found each other. And now we’re on it. It’s the right path. And the powers--fuck, Kenzie, the magic--they’re part of that path.” He held the bowl out to her and she took it, gently brushing his fingers, staring up at him. My sweet sweet Kenzie. To be alone with you this way. I can’t find words.

“I think so too, Duncan. I think we found the path. Oh, baby. It’s so beautiful, isn’t it?”

He could see the hint of tears glistening around her eyes, then she lowered her gaze to light the bowl and breathed in, deeply, letting out a little cough at the first embers in her throat--she dipped down to his mouth, lifting her lips onto his, hand cradling his cheek, then blew the smoke between them, into him, down into his throat, into his lungs, the weed at once inebriating and potent, settling into both of them in the span of moments, bringing a new glow to the room, a spiritous opalescence. Together we’ve manifested real magick, she thought, and he heard her, warm inside her mind and in the grip of the weed, reaching out for her hand, pulling his long fingers achingly down her skin. She passed the pipe to him, which was still lit, and he breathed in from it, deeply. Together we have brought something to life. With this love we’ve woken up something very old and very powerful. I feel it, Duncan. I know it.

“It’s--so, so beautiful,” he replied. “Beyond anything I ever imagined was possible before I found you. You are so beautiful, Kenzie. It’s like I can see the universe inside you.”

“When I write my book, I’m going to steal all the lovely things you say to me,” Kenzie smiled. “I’’m going to pretend like I came up with them.”

“They’re all for you anyway; they belong to you. Everything is for you--every part of me.” Duncan set the pipe down on the softness of the bed, hand drifting down her smooth thigh to her knee. To give myself to you, to give you my love--there is nothing that has ever made me so happy in all the world, Mackenzie Stone.

“I know, baby. I know. I love you. All of me is for you, too.”

“To hear that, my heart just--fucking sings, Kenz. To be loved by you is just…” Duncan trailed off, looking away from her, full of the feeling of shyness again. To be inside her gaze shook him to the center of his soul. It’s like looking into the window of time, seeing that there is something beyond that, something so radiantly lovely, it defies all description. The thing beyond time is love. And I see that now. Because I feel it.

Kenzie was dipping her face down to him as she had before, pressing her mouth up against his--the taste of her bitter with the weed, sweet with the scent of her perfume and her hair and her skin, then she leaned away and gripped his hands, pulling him off the bed with her. He stood over her little frame, marveling over the crown of her head only reaching to the top of his chest, longing to pull her against him, but she was dipping down to her suitcase now, pulling out one of the dresses she’d packed, a strappy rust-colored mini dress, pulling it over her head, sitting abruptly on the rug around the bed (it was covered in gold fleur de lis) to slip her Vans back onto her little feet.

“The lake, baby, the lake,” she said over her shoulder, disappearing into the bathroom, emerging  moment later with two fluffy white towels which she pressed into his arms. “I wanna see the lake, come on.”

Kenzie twined her fingers around his, and in the haze of her touch and the weed and the magic he knew was with them (I know it, I know it is, I’ve seen it, I feel it) now, Duncan knew he was right. We are on the path now. “Take me, baby. I’m yours.”

--------

Together they’d put away all the groceries they’d brought in the woodsy kitchen; Duncan couldn’t stop himself from continually pressing kisses into her hair and along her forehead as Kenzie lined the fruits and vegetables and the carton of eggs, the jars of olives and tiny pickles carefully on the empty shelves; opening the drawers, her hair dipping into her eyes, to slide the lunch-meats and turkey bacon into them. He packed the picnic basket with honeycrisp apples, the tortilla chips and pico, two ripe avocados, and made them each a turkey sandwich on the sprouted bread with fresh lettuce, the artisan provolone and slices of a ripe tomato; then he slipped two bottles of the wine inside, one red, one white, and lined the others carefully at the bottom of the fridge and the reds on the kitchen’s island. Kenzie was watching him with that glittering affection in her eyes, the one that always stopped his heart, made him shy--who was I before I met you? He wondered. I feel like my life has finally begun. Finally, I’m awake, and everything before you was a dream. The weed had made him feel deeply contented, and he could feel a similar dreamlike state of solicitude from her.

“There’s so much I want to show you here,” he said, gripping the handles of the basket. He was still shirtless, and only in the jersey shorts and sandals--fuck it, Duncan, he told himself. There’s no one to care. “Just wait until you see the sky tonight, baby. And I think I can find that clearing again, the one I told you about before--where I went alone that night. With the goldenrods and orchids. Though they might not be blooming now, I don’t know.”

Kenzie was anxiously pulling him out the sliding door to the side of the kitchen; through it was a small side-deck, and then a stony path that led around the house to the path next to the gazebo and the swing that hung from the oak tree--then even further down to the lake, its surface dappled with glitter in the afternoon sun, and the dockside, the canoe bobbing from it on a length of rope. Kenzie stopped them for a moment to admire the gazebo, then glanced over at the swing, her expression elated; I love all of this so much, he heard her, and pulled her against him for a moment, burying his nose into her hair, breathing in. I love you so much.

She pulled back from him, her eyes gold-flecked, then she smiled, mischievous--Kenzie turned and sprinted away from him down the path, her hair streaming out behind her, the little dress fluttering up to flash the dip of her ass in the black bikini. Kenzie made it to the dock, the Vans slapping noisily on the wood, and paused to slip them off and pull the dress over her head, discarding it in a heap--as Duncan came up behind her she ran back a few paces on the dock, then scurried off the edge, cannon-balling into the water, splashing him with a jet of cold spray. He grinned, setting the picnic basket down, shaking the droplets of water from his hair. After a moment, Kenzie reappeared, blinking water from her eyes, pushing her wet hair out of her face, bobbing to the surface. He could see the minute kicking of her feet under the water as she leaned back, face tilting up to the wildly blue sky, the tiny wisps of cloud scudding over the sun, which had moved from the center overhead to begin its slow descent into mid-afternoon.

“I think heaven looks like this,” she said, her eyes drifting closed as she floated there, the surface of the water’s clear reflection making it seem as though she bobbed in the sky itself. In the distance there were hills that stretched for miles due west, and Duncan knew the sun would set over them that evening--he thought of Karer See, with its pink and purple hills--knew after that the sky would burst into a brilliant cascade of stars, the likes of which were never visible in the city, the likes of which weren’t visible anywhere but here, really, as far as he had ever seen--I can’t wait to gaze at the universe with you, he thought, crouching to sit along the side of the dock, dipping his legs down into the water, bringing out the bottle of red wine and opening it as he watched her, the blue weed floating up and down through him, flaring in his mind and his blood like flowers blooming.

“Heaven looks like you, Miss Stone.”

She squinted at him, sticking her tongue out, dipping down to swim over to him, reaching up to where he held a wine glass down to her, his other hand falling against her wet hair. Kenzie sipped at it, then set it gently on the dock, dipping down into the water so her mouth was hidden under it. She kept her nose hovering just above the surface, her eyes sparkling with a green-blue reflection from the sky, dancing at him. He felt a jerk at his foot as she playfully yanked on it under the water.

“Hey! A little fish grabbed me!”

Kenzie laughed at that, ecstatic. She yanked again, and Duncan had to grab onto the side of the dock to keep from being pulled into the water this time.

“Cut that out, Mrs. Shepherd.”

“Mrs. Shepherd,” Kenzie balked, laughing. “That’s your mother.”

“But it’ll be you, too. Soon. Mackenzie Louise Shepherd, Chairwoman of the Board of Directors, Shepherd Unlimited LLC.”

“Oh, soon, huh? What makes you so sure I’ll say yes to you, Mr. Shepherd?”

“I know you will. You told me you will.”

“What if I change my mind,” she said, teasingly, reaching for her wine glass again.

“You won’t.”

“Oh really?”

“You love me.”

Kenzie grinned. “Nah, I just love your big dick and your credit cards.”

Duncan shook his head, and the weed crashed against him again, this time in a stronger wave. He stared at her; he felt bold, untethered by reason, and intoxicated with her.

“Nope. You��re totally in love with me. You’d do anything for me. I heard you tell Annette. You gave yourself away. You’re going to marry me.”

Kenzie’s smile fell away; oh god, what was it? What did I say? he thought. But then he saw the emotion in her eyes, saw that it had been there all along, that her facetiousness had been a paltry attempt to hide it. The weed seemed to be clashing against her thoughts in him, muddling them; but now he felt them in a surge. I did, didn’t I? I did tell her. I forgot about that--so much has happened since then. And I meant every word. I would do anything for you. I am going to marry you. And I love you so much it fucking hurts like a wound. It’s like the most bittersweet chocolate, a wine so rich it burns on the tongue, this heady weed we smoked, drifting in our veins now. My love for you is like that inside me all the time--and your love for me, so strong it’s like a storm that surrounds me, sweetest rain against me.

“Kenzie, baby. Come here. Eat something.”

The heat had deepened; it had to be in the 80’s now, Duncan guessed, remembering his phone was off and discarded in one of the pockets of his suitcase now, and he breathed a sigh of relief as Kenzie set her wine glass down again on the edge of the dock, reaching for his hand. He pulled her easily up to him, into his lap--cradling his head into her neck for a moment, not caring when her wetness seeped into him. Then Kenzie extracted herself from his arms, leaning over the basket to use a cloth napkin to dry the lake water from her hands, grabbing one of the towels to wrap around her shoulders, then reaching for one of the turkey sandwiches Duncan had made for them--he’d wrapped them in cloth napkins too, tying each with a neat double-knot, and Kenzie sat beside him, crossing her legs, wincing a little, to untie it.

“My ass is sore from double-duty,” and then she snorted; they both burst into a peal of laughter. Kenzie reached into the basket and handed him the other wrapped sandwich, their laughter bleeding out into stoned giggles--and together they sat on the dock, eating with insistence. Duncan was starving; sex and weed will do that, he thought, and Kenzie was nodding, reaching for tortilla chips from the basket’s interior, her little teeth crunching into them, her eyes drifting up to the sky again, full of lovely wonder that pierced his heart. Duncan finished his sandwich and cut one of the avocados in half, using a spoon to dip its green flesh into his mouth, watching her coyly. Her wet hair was dripping onto the dock’s wood surface, leaving a damp ring around her, and he fought the urge to reach out and grasp her little breast in the tiny bikini top. He watched it shiver with moisture; watched the dip of her clavicle, the moon still glittering at her throat. She brought a hand up to brush her wet hair from her cheek again, the diamonds on her wrist flashing.

“I just wanna buy you more diamonds,” he murmured between bites. “Hundreds more. One for every star in the sky.”

“Just get me flowers, baby. I love the flowers best.”

“We’re taking the path through the woods behind the house after this, I’ll show you where most of the wildflowers grow--we can gather as many as you want to bring back with us.”

“Oh, Dunny, I’d really love that. I wanna cover the whole wall at home with them.”

“A wall of flowers for Persephone, trapped in the Underworld.”

“Duncan. No. It’s not the Underworld. It won’t be--not anymore. Not after what we do.”

Duncan hesitated; my heart is so light with you. I believe it. He remembered her tear-stained face last night, the pulsing glow of her sadness when he found her in the powder room, the memory of Bill Shepherd’s cruel resentment in her eyes.

“I’m so sorry about my uncle, Kenzie. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. I’m so sorry that he doesn’t understand--I’m sorry he touched you, that he said those things. It won’t happen again.”

“Duncan. It’s not your fault.” Her hand grasped his much larger one, disappearing into it. “Death is frightening. People are afraid to die. It’s makes them do things they wouldn’t do otherwise. He’s afraid. I already forgave him. I can’t possibly hold a grudge against a man who’s about to die.”

“And Annette?”

“Annette...I think when we get back, we’ll all feel different, you know? I think things will be different.”

“I hope so. I wish I could push all my resentment away. I want to--to try to forgive her.”

“You’re human, baby. You’re allowed to be upset, unsure. It’s okay.”

“Kenzie. How are you so wonderful. So perfect.”

Kenzie shook her head, scattering water across the dock, her eyes (the forest, the sun) burning at him. “I’m not perfect, Duncan. Fuck.”

“You are perfect. You’re perfect to me. For me.”

“You’re fucking perfect,okay? Your fucking stupid perfect hair. Your jawline--I dunno--it could cut steel or something. Your beautiful hands and your lips and your eyes like the sky. And the beautiful way you think about me. It takes my breath away.”

“Kenzie. You are the brightest person I’ve ever met. It’s like you’re made of sunlight. Of starlight. It shines out of every part of you. I could see you in the darkest place. You’d shine out like a beacon. The way people react to you...they can see it too. I think you...you have royal blood. I mean--you come from...something greater. Greater than me. Greater than anyone.”

“I don’t understand that. Why people react to me that way, especially lately. I thought maybe it’s just because of your family and, I dunno--you. Millions of Instagram followers.” Kenzie smirked at him.

Duncan shook his head.

“I think it has to do with us being together. They can see something--I don’t know what to call it. Something extraordinary. They don’t know what it is, but they can feel it. It has something to do with the magic, maybe. Like an invisible current of energy. Claire said something to me that night she came over, after you fell asleep--she said we’re intense, like a bright light a moth flies into. I think people see us like that, for whatever reason--especially you--like a bright light that they want a part of. Some people are like Lindy and Gabby, they’re sincere--it inspires them, they see how much we love each other, I think. And some people respond like that guy Georgio--lust. They just want a bite of it. And other people still--Marissa, or my uncle. They want to destroy it. Snuff it out. They long for it, and can’t accept that it doesn’t belong to them, and never could; that they can’t possess it.”

Kenzie was eating one of the apples now, munching on it with an earnest cuteness that made Duncan long for the bed upstairs again; I’m gonna throw you down in the flowers and kiss every inch of your skin soon, Mackenzie Stone.

“I think that’s why I want to be kind to them so much,” she said softly. “Lindy and Gabby, I mean. They’re so sincere.”

She paused, her mouth on the apple’s smooth skin, and he wanted to reach out and brush his fingers along her lips there. Eve eats the Apple of Knowledge in Eden. And then she Knows--she knows everything. I feel like we’re about to know, too. Everything.

Duncan nodded. “I know that, baby. You don’t have to explain that.”

“Claire has always been that way to me. So sincere. I feel love from her so genuinely, so selflessly. Now I think--I think Claire could always see it. The thing we are becoming.”

“I think so too. I think Samuel could see it too. And Pilar. And so many other people around us our whole lives. We’re noticing it now, but...I think it was always there.”

They both fell silent. Kenzie’s fingers tightened on his palm for a moment, drifted down to the bracelet, sliding over it softly. The thread. The tether. It was always there too, wasn’t it? The one between us. The magic was always there, and so were we. Us. Together.

Then she dipped her head down and took another ravenous bite from the apple, crunching it happily, her face falling into an expression of blissful happiness, the sun in her hair. She slid her hand out of his, balancing the apple on her knee, and twisted her hair out onto the deck. Water pattered in an arc that glittered in a beam of light, reflecting off the water and her diamond bracelet, blinding him for a moment. Scatter your gold over me. Then she reached for the little dress she’d discarded in a heap, pulled it over her head, and stood up, reeling her arm back and tossing the apple’s core into the water.  Duncan drifted his fingers up her leg, looking into her eyes.

“Show me the woods, fair Oberon.”

The day was growing muggy now, the heat at its zenith--Duncan knew after this time, this halo’d span of hours, the sun would begin to set and the day would cool into an evening that would linger in both of them for the rest of their lives; whatever we see and feel tonight, Kenzie, will always be with us. His skin felt hot, potent, the weed crashing up again in his mind, like a rising tide. He could feel the sweat at his temples, at the back of his neck, feel the ghost of her hand that had just left his. Kenzie’s hair had already begun to dry, its waves tossing over her shoulder as she slipped her Vans back on and skipped away from him down the dock, beckoning to him impatiently.

“Come on, Dunny.” Her eyes were luminous; their gold seemed to reflect the sky, tossing green and bronze in their depth with swirling intensity. I want you again. I want you under the eaves of the shade. Come to me.

Duncan launched himself up from the dock, from his trance in the sunlight. The spell she was weaving (as you always do, my love) was pushing him toward her--he started to jog towards her but Kenzie flitted away (my little firefly), her little feet in the tennis shoes flying out behind her in the grass, cutting across the path and behind the gazebo. As Duncan ran after her the sun dappled through the trees, giving the afternoon a glittering sheen, the affectation of a sepia memory. Because as this moment fades into the next, it really is a memory now, he thought, his heart aching as he chased her, the sound of her excited giggling drifting back to him as she flew down the path which had faded from stone to pounded dirt, and through the pines and oaks that grew abundantly together at the forest opening. I ache for every moment with you that fades from reality and exists only within us forever after. I’d extend every single one of them into eternity if I could. I could never have enough moments with you. Each one is precious gold--I don’t have space in my hands enough to hold them all, and that will always leave me yearning for you, Kenzie. My moonbeam, radiant with hallowed light.

He made it to the space where the trees parted to the path, panting heavily, pausing to press his palms against his knees, dipping down to suck air into his lungs--his hair fell down over his forehead, sweat dripping at the side of his cheek. The heat had begun to feel almost tantric, enveloping him, the weed veering into the space behind his eyes, through the crown of his head, down the back of his neck, through his arms, swirling down his throat and into the warm center of him. Where are you, angel. I’m going to find you. He suddenly ached for her with a terrible craving that made him want to groan aloud. What is this day, the summer wind, the sky, the water, the wood, without you. Where are you.

He jerked his head back up, hands drifting over his shirtless torso, over the sweat that was pooling in the dip of his throat, and peered through the trees. The clearing he knew was inside wasn’t visible from this distance, and Kenzie had disappeared around the dip in the path a few paces ahead. Duncan stepped under the canopy of trees; in the forest now, he thought, and shivered a little despite the heat. He forced himself to walk rather than run; Kenzie wouldn’t have gone far, he knew. She’s expecting me to follow. And once she sees the clearing--her heart won’t let her go on. I know her; as I’ve always known her. He turned around a cluster of Virginia pines at the dip in the path, eyes falling on the stream he knew was here, one that had run here for at least a hundred years. An arching, handmade bridge spanned across it--it had once been a dark wine-red, but was now fading into the russet of the forest, the paint chipping away. Duncan listened carefully; the telltale sound of Kenzie’s giggling echoed ahead, the distant slap of the bottom of her shoes. Then, it stopped, and he heard her gasp of delight--she had reached the clearing, that oasis he had found on a night his heart had ached with loneliness for her.

Duncan stepped over the bridge, glancing down at the clearness of the stream, his heart pounding wildly, his head dizzy. He knew the clearing was nearly upon him, through the denseness of the strange cluster of black oaks ahead. He remembered them because they grew oddly close together, as though they were guarding something; as though they were the gatekeepers for a world beyond, one that was different than this one, tinged with mystery. Their leaves grew heavy, dipping low, shielding the space where the path led through them. Duncan lifted his hand to push them aside, lowering his head between the eaves of them, feeling their many-pronged leaves brushing through his hair; as he cleared them, he lifted his eyes, and his breath caught again, but not from running. Fuck me, he thought. I thought I’d remembered how lovely it is, but I didn’t, not really. And there are more flowers now; so many more. It’s as if they all bloomed for her. They knew she was coming.

Kenzie was kneeling in the center of the round clearing--overhead the trees created a canopy of shade that only let slivers of sunlight down onto her, but these seemed to create a circlet of gold around her head--her halo, he thought, immediately overcome with her loveliness. All around her there were wildflowers; little lavender asters with golden centers, clusters of drooping red fuchsias, and the goldenrods he remembered. There were what seemed like a million tiny white, purple and pink alyssum flowers covering the carpet of the forest floor, too--they seemed to have grown in a circular pattern that cascaded from the outward edge of the clearing in swirls that dipped all the way to the center where she sat, her feet tucked under her little dress, her face leaning down to press her nose into the clusters in front of her, her hands delicately trailing down their stems and petals. Duncan felt dizzy again--this wave burst over him with more power than the first, and he reached out a hand to clutch the nearby trunk of the black oak beside him. The trunk was warm--strangely warm, almost--and its roughness was soothing. It seemed to tether him to reality when nothing else wanted to, not the flowers or the sunlight in her hair, not her little face turned down so angelically, not her little sighs of longing and joy, nor the way the clearing seemed to drift around her, its anchor, its center--the flowers seemed to have gathered around her with purpose, though such a thing could not be.

“Kenzie, baby,” he heard his voice call to her softly, untethered from himself; and when she looked up at the sound of his voice, Duncan felt his breath gasp again. Her eyes were glimmering gold once more; gold like they had been in the complete darkness of their bed that night, in the throes of their passion in the shadows, otherworldly and ethereal; though they were not as intensely strange as the ones he’d seen in his dream of her, they reminded him of those eyes, those galaxies she had inside her, and Duncan felt the weight of a universe pressing down on him inside the moment, inside that clearing. He went to her, hearing her speaking to him from inside the halo of where she was sitting; come to me, come to me, Duncan, come here my love.

Yes, angel. Yes, Queen of Roses.

She reached up to him, and Duncan lowered himself into her arms; the clearing was cool, strangely so, drying the sweat from his skin, and there was no breeze here, more strangely still; the trees must grow so closely the wind can’t penetrate them, Duncan thought; but that didn’t seem quite true. He could see the dips of the trees beyond through the circle here; knew that any breeze of earth would easily be able to drift through into the space. But there was only stillness, stillness in her arms. Duncan let his hands drift up into her hair, tangling in the waves, now soft and dry. The scent of the flowers was rising up to him, the dizziness he’d felt at the edge of the clearing dissipating; a deep need for her replaced it, a painfully clear desire to give himself to her in this quiet, secluded place, this place that seemed to be brimming with finespun power. Kenzie’s eyes were coaxing him to a euphoric state of abandon, and the laughter she’d sent out behind her moments ago had metamorphosed to a look of absolute trust on her small features, in the hugeness of her eyes; all her trust, and all the holy sweetness of her power over him reflected therein.

“This place is sacred, Duncan,” she whispered, and the hairs at the back of his neck rose at her words; at the fragility of the tips of her fingers on the bareness of his ribs. “This place feels like it’s part of another world.”

“Maybe it is,” he whispered back, lowering his face to her cheek, brushing his lips down the skin there, tiny kisses that pressed in measured holiness until they reached her mouth, opening to him, the scent of the flowers drifting up into his senses again as her face turned against him, her hair falling through his fingers. Kenzie was sliding into his lap, her legs parting to press the space between them flush to him, their mouths still crushed together, deeper, the small movement of her under him shivering out; he clutched at her as she rose to lean over him, her hair falling into his eyes, against his curls, chestnut-gold in russet-copper. Her hands were on his jaw again, her favorite spot, her hands belong there, lifting him into her, tasting him as though he were the sweet nectar of some wild fruit, and Duncan gave himself over to her, to the need he felt falling onto him from every fiber of her. Her power here, in this place, in this bed of flowers; it was absolute, and he knew it, could sense it. Like the Mirror, like this place--I belong to her. My world turns to her whims, her tiniest pleasures; my life is hers, my toil, every breath from my lungs a prayer to her wonders.

“I’m yours,” he whispered up into her mouth. “Kenzie, you must know how much, oh, god--how I belong to you--”

“I do know, beloved,” and her smile against him made him shiver; the Kenzie in this moment had an overwhelming flood of golden power rushing out of her into him, and he felt weak with it; weak and desirous, overcome with her. “Now, lay back, sweet Prince. Your angel needs your attention.”

Duncan let her push him, the weight of her fingers so slight and yet so entire, into the coolness of the long grass under them. His head crushed into the clusters of tiny alyssum that carpeted the clearing; for a moment, he saw himself through her eyes, dizzyingly, and knew it seemed to her that he wore a crown of flowers for her, oh love, Lord Hades, I know how you’ve dreamt of flowers in my hair, but to see them in yours too, is a delight to my eyes. In this I know you truly are mine; with these flowers I kiss you, I give you my gold.

Kenzie stood; Duncan went to lift up to her, but she shook her head with the tiniest movement, and he knew not to move; he watched her from the alcove of flowers leaning over him, watched her pull the dress over her head, untie the bikini and slide it from her thighs, her shoes discarded to a drifting patch of grasses. She was sweetly naked now; her nakedness so beautiful to him in this place, this (sacred) clearing where once he knew he’d longed for her, and where, now, miraculously, he longed for the reality of her before him, knew she held him in her sway here, knew the gold of her was brimming with power not of the world they knew; that here it was greater, somehow, it was closer to the Kenzie he had seen in the achingly beautiful dream, knew, without knowing how he knew, that she was closer to that Kenzie now than she was to the one who existed outside this circle. She lowered herself onto him, straddling him at the waist, and he shuddered to feel the lips of her sex press down onto the sensitive space below his ribs. She leaned down over him, hair tossing into the alyssum beside his face, her knowing grin shaking his heart into adamant supplication; I need you Kenzie, I need you, need you, bless me, let me give all of myself to you, I beg you--

“You need me, do you, sweet Prince? You, he of great riches and great beauty, lord of many houses, overseer of shadows, soon to be king of many lands--”

“All of these are nothing in your eyes, Goddess of the Golden Bower, High Princess of the Garden of All Delights, Angel of the Hidden Sphere wherein is held the knowledge of all things, supremely exalted in heaven--” for a moment, someone else seemed to speak through Duncan’s lips; he understood his words but not from whence they came, knew their shape, but could not comprehend their meaning--and then--these are her names, he knew. These names belong to my Kenzie, they are her names that I forgot.

Kenzie dipped away from him, and his nerves thrilled as she pressed her hand harshly against his mouth, stopping his words; he watched her expression contort in a way he couldn’t quite decipher; he could feel the rise of her lust, and feel that she could not bear the words he spoke; that somehow they were too much, too great, or too raw a wound for her to allow. Some other self, she thought, the one I was before, the one my mind can’t seem to see, the one my heart can’t comprehend. Her finger went between his lips, pressing hard into his tongue, demanding. No more words, beloved, I can’t stand the beauty of them, I’m--I’m not ready. Not yet.

“Fuck me, Duncan. Right now. I need you.”

“Kenzie, up,” he murmured, and demandingly he pressed his palms against the redness he’d left along her ass cheeks, loving the mingled gasp of pleasure and pain that fell out of her, could feel it wiping her mind clean of her uncertainty; Kenzie’s hands fell above his head into the sweet grass as her cunt bruised against his mouth and his tongue pressed, immediate, into her swollen clit, urging it to sodden preparation. Her voice sobbed up into the trees that covered the clearing, and Duncan thrilled to know no one could hear them; this belongs only to us, no one else can have any of it, and his hands drifted up her back, pressing her onto his face. Her wordless cries almost sounded like a song to him; an otherworldly, ethereal one, fitting for a place such as this, this circle that seemed like the portal to another world, surrounded by the black oaks. He pushed his tongue further into her, dipping it down to the opening of her sex, up to her clit, down the side of either lip of her, making her thighs shake against the sides of his jaw, and he kept his eyes open, open to look at the intensity of her beauty; there it is again, her halo, he knew as her head dipped back and her throat moved, shivered for him, her hair falling back in a waterfall against his fingers, and this time it’s not the sunlight, it’s not the dappled light in the clearing, it’s real, it really is her halo, and it’s like nothing in this world, this mundane world made of rules that bind us to the earth, but another world where we had wings unfathomable to human eyes, where we had clothing woven from a thread that doesn’t exist here. Her halo is the essence of her divinity. My Kenzie is truly a goddess. I can feel that here. In this place, I can see that. Here, I worship her in the truth of her golden light. And he knew.

Oh my fucking god, Kenzie. You are Holy. You’re fucking holy; you really are an angel, or something like an angel--there was a time, somewhere, somehow, where you were something else, a being made of light, higher than humankind. I saw it that first night, when I loved you so immediately; I saw it the first time we fucked in the low light of that dark bed and I longed to be by your side forever from that day, when the thought of you leaving me was like a knife in my heart. This is just the beginning--just the tip of the knowing. More is coming.

“Baby, let me fuck you,” Kenzie’s voice was half whisper, half a cry that rattled at the edges of his mind and she lifted her sex away from him, making him gasp to lose her--she was sliding down his skin, the feeling of her smooth as silk and hot as low fire, to the waistband of his jersey shorts--she snapped it back demandingly, her fingers closing around the base of his cock, sliding down further, further, her mouth dipping onto him for just a moment, scattering wetness along his length, then she lowered herself onto him, so quickly and sleekly he cried out, overcome with her--Kenzie lowered her palm against his cheek and her fingers dug into his skin, down against the incline of the top of his throat, and she was pushing into him, forcing her hand into him, and she murmured “give your hard cock to me, Duncan--” and then she was keening her hips down onto him, riding him with so much force that he felt white spasms of light, like the crackling edges of a bonfire, around the edges of his vision.

“Fuck me, give yourself to me, let me fuck you, give yourself, give to me, dearest love, fairest of all men, and mine alone, chosen one--” Kenzie’s head fell back again, her words drifting into the stillness of the clearing, the coolness, the solitude that was blessed and golden, the holy sweetness of this place that, in this moment, was theirs and theirs alone. Her nipples were achingly hard in the soft, shaded light; Duncan’s hands came up to them as she rode against him, biting harshly into his lip to keep himself from rushing over the edge already; his thighs were prickling with the softness of her swollen ass pressing down onto him, and she was so wet--so exquisitely tight against him--

This place seemed to heighten everything in his body; his sight seemed sharper, bringing every detail of her small features into clarity, the impossible depth in her eyes, the shivering length of her eyelashes, her little lips and their tiny, gathered dew, the little round dip at her nose, the scattered blush at her cheeks, the strands of her hair plastered to her neck in her passionate abandon. The sensation of her in his hands and along his cock was nearly unbearable; he fought the urge to scream, to burst into tears, and the scent of her held a sweetness that seemed, like the air, the aura of this place, not of the earth. The scent of a moonbeam, of moonlight scattered on some place that is paradise--the Garden of All Delights, is that what I called it? Is that what I said to her a moment ago, inside this place, halfway between a dream and reality?

Duncan gripped under Kenzie’s arms and forced her down, crushing his mouth against hers; the heat of her naked body was so exquisite, the warmth of her cunt so divine, he wished she could absorb him inside her somehow, cradle him in the cocoon of her light.

“That’s it, baby,” she whispered, and she gasped, “give yourself to me, just like that, ride up into me, like that, fuck me in these sweet flowers, in this sacred place--because we’re fucking holy, baby, when we’re together, it’s fucking holy, isn’t it--it’s sacred--”

“God, yes, I can feel it, it’s like a--unnnh, it’s like you’re made of sunlight, and you’re sucking me inside you--it’s so fucking lovely, Kenzie, baby--I can’t fucking stand it--”

“Fuck, baby, this place--what is it--” Kenzie was gasping, and to Duncan it felt as though her body were lifting him up into her, not just their skin pressing together here, in the dark green grass bursting with wildflowers, but their souls, twining in a meditation that seemed to exceed the boundaries of what he thought possible; like her wings are there again.

“I don’t know, baby, I don’t know, but fuck--unngh--you feel so good--”

Her hand came down again, against his mouth, her index and middle fingers pressing inside his teeth, her hips rhythmic now, back and forth along his length, his fingers coming up to dip into her clit and soothe the deep wetness there, pressing the lips of her to the sides. He could feel it now; the vibrating air, the space of this sacred circle, feel that it wasn’t just their own imagining; for a moment it was as though the circle of black oaks became unstuck, and the spirals of the flowers growing in their twisting pattern turned to a hidden beltway of galaxy, and they had ascended to that other place, the place of in their dreams, made of the sunrise colors that were moving beyond any language he had ever heard, the colors of time and things beyond time.

And then--then they were crashing back to earth, the circle tethered once more, locking back into its place, and Kenzie was falling against him, and he felt his orgasm rushing up into her intense heat, closed his eyes in his overwhelmed idolatry of her--I am the cup that runs over with the abundance of your grace--and they were coming together, crying into each other’s mouths, her little fingers on his face, flitting over his eyelids and along this stubble and against his forehead, beating softly like butterfly wings as she shuddered down onto him and he held her as tightly as he could, crushing her into him, wishing they could be together like this always, that the moment of their inevitable parting would simply never come.

------

Kenzie was laying against him now, in the crook under his arm (her spot, the place she was torn away from me); her hair was scattered back, his hand toying with its soft strands, absent-mindedly. They lay in the center of the clearing, the flowers still crushing around his head, the soft afternoon light scattering through the black oaks onto the long green grass that grew so strangely verdant here. Duncan had noticed, with a strange sort of calm, that the trees outside the circle would drift now and again in the wind; but that the leaves of these trees, the ones that created the circle, did not.

“I almost never want to leave this place,” he murmured to her. Kenzie’s eyes were closed, her cheek on the corner of his chest, her breath small and calm; she’d slipped her bikini bottoms back on, as Duncan had pulled the waistband of his shorts back over his softening cock, but she was still topless, the softness of her breasts pressing against him. “There’s something about it that’s so peaceful. Like the rest of the world can’t get in. Like only we can.”

“Baby,” and Kenzie was turning her head up to him. “What were those names you called me before? They were so beautiful. What did they mean?”

“Kenz, I--” Duncan drifted a hand over his eyes. “I don’t know, honestly. I’m not sure what I was saying. It’s something about--something about this place. It put the thought of them inside me. Like I was remembering something I’d forgotten. Like when you relearn words in a language you haven’t heard for a long time.”

Kenzie didn’t say anything more, just brought her fingers up to his stubbled chin. She seemed to be thinking, but as he knew she could if she willed it, she seemed to have closed her thoughts away from him again. He ached to hear her; he pulled her in closer to him, so her leg dipped over his thigh in their flowery bed. The light was lowering; he wondered what time it was, how long they’d laid here in the quietness. He lifted a hand up and picked a pink alyssum from where a cluster dipped down over them, bringing it around a wave of her golden hair and weaving it through, then did the same with a white flower, and a purple one--eventually there were a dozen flowers he’d braided into her, and Kenzie was smiling at him quietly, not moving, head crooked under her arm, eyes sleepy but watchful.

“I like you with flowers in your hair too, baby,” she murmured. “For our wedding you should wear a crown of flowers, too.”

“Thought you hadn’t decided if you were going to say yes to me or not,” he whispered, hoisting himself up to look down at her now. Goddess of the Golden Bower. That had been one of them.

“I mean our theoretical wedding.”

He grinned at that, then drifted back into seriousness. There are things I realize now, Kenzie. It’s like I can’t speak them out loud though, not yet. Is that what you’re closing away from me? The things you know about me, too? Did you hear me when we fucked? Did you hear that I know you’re holy? That you really are some kind of angel--that you were, once?

Kenzie made no indication that she heard these thoughts from him, either--she was drifting up from her sleepy position, the flowers he’d woven into her hair shivering around her shoulders. She reached her hands up into the air, legs tucked under her, and stretched, yawning, cat-like. Duncan immediately reached for her, pulling her against him, overcome with her again, lost for words, fumbling to speak. Kenzie seemed to sense his emotion, and pressed her lips in an earnest kiss into his neck, whispering “oh Duncan, how I love you,” and he knew there was nothing he needed to say, then--that everything between them was known, and he could enfold himself safely into her, and the outside world was impossibly far away in the understanding of her love.

They lingered that way for a little while, Duncan’s hand in her hair, the tiny remnants of the scent of roses and vetiver on her skin mixed in with the alyssum and the sun-dried earthiness of her hair now, then Kenzie pulled away from him and stood, gathering her other clothes and her shoes, reaching out her hand. He pulled himself up to her, his body immediately towering over her tiny one, and she pulled the bikini top around her waist, turning to him and brushing her hair aside; Duncan laced it back together, kissing her neck.

“We left the picnic basket on the dock, I guess we should go get it,” Kenzie said, glancing up into the black oaks one more time; Duncan followed her eyes to where the round patch of sky above was deepening into a darker blue, the hints of oncoming sunset beginning to bleed around the edges of the trees. Soon the stars will be out, baby. You’ll see.

“We should gather some of these flowers first,” he said, pulling the dress gently out of her hands and gathering it so she could dip her head into its neckline. Duncan straightened the hem around her thighs as she pulled her arms through it, then turned to pick some, but Kenzie stopped him, grasping his fingers.

“No, baby, let’s do it tomorrow. Let’s come here tomorrow morning, when the sun is rising--and gather them in the sunrise. Can we do that? I want to be--I want to gather them that way. In the sunlight.”

Duncan nodded. “Of course, baby. Whatever you want. That sounds lovely.”

She was pulling him out of the flowers now; out of the halo of oaks, back into the forest. As they left the shrouded enclosure of the huge trees, growing so closely together in their strange way, Duncan breathed out a long sigh--the air seemed to suck back into him, the wind immediately raising the hairs on his arms. It was as though they’d walked through a door back into the outside world from the shadowed interior of a house, its floors made of long grasses and wildflowers.

“That’s so--” Kenzie hesitated, pausing, faltering. “That place, Duncan.”

“You said it yourself, Kenzie, and you were right. It’s sacred. It was the first place I felt you, even when we were so far away from each other once. It was the first time I knew you were out there somewhere--that I missed you.”

She nodded, eyes bright, hand tight inside his. “It’s thin there, isn’t it?”

Duncan knew what she meant; he felt it, deep within his bones, the certainty of it. Yes, my love. It’s thin there; and the barrier between this world and whatever else there is--whatever is outside it--is barely there in that place. We felt another world bumping up against us there; our past. Our future. And other things. Things too great to even describe.

“Yes, Kenzie. I think so. I think you’re right.”

Kenzie nodded a little again, then, clutching his hand tightly, she led him down the path to the bridge; he could hear the eerie cry of a loon far off in the distance somewhere--probably on the lake--and he shivered, threading his fingers against hers, contented to be led by her. Led anywhere. Led into hell if you willed it. Led into an abyss if that was your wish. But no. I know you’ll lead me into heaven. I know it, and it amazes my soul.

Soon they were out of the woods. A cool gust of wind drifted toward them from the lake, smelling of earthy rot, grass baked in sunlight, and the oncoming dew of the evening, and as Duncan lifted his eyes to its serene surface, he was moved anew by its beauty in the oncoming sunset--the sky had begun to turn shades of pink and apricot, and they reflected on the lake’s face with a passionate kiss.

“Wow, Duncan. It looks like…” Kenzie trailed off, squeezing his hand. Her eyes misted, glancing earthward to hide her emotion; but he knew--for I see into your thoughts, beloved, and therefore, into your soul--what she was trying to say. It looks like that other place. The one with colors we can’t describe. I know, baby. I know. She looked up to him, went up on her toes, gripping into his bare shoulders to kiss him. Holy. He felt her shiver a little as another gust of wind fell over them, the flowers he’d twined into her hair falling against her cheek.

“Go get a sweater, baby, it got chilly. I’ll get the picnic basket.”

“Can we make a fire? The weather tonight is perfect. Then we can lay under the stars all night, until the sun rises.” She was grinning against him, her little chin pressing into his skin, her eyes inside his, eyelashes so long, her softness like the rose petals that had been in her hair last night--like the petals she’d slipped inside his wallet, a memory. I want to remember every minute I’ll ever have with you, I wish I could, I wish I could memorize every tiny part of everything.

He pressed his hand down from her head. “Of course we can. I can’t wait to show you the spot--the place where you can see everything. Every star in the sky. And tonight’s so clear--baby, it’s like everything is coming together. I feel so--it’s like they did this for us--”

“The Fates.”

“Yes. Kenzie--I love you.”

“And I love you. To the moon and back.”

Duncan’s heart clenched, knowing that was what she said to Madeline; knowing it was sacred, special, held close, shared between two women, tied to the feminine parts of her, secret and achingly personal. Knowing that saying it to him was a wildly intimate permission from her; knowing that the thing that had passed between them in the holy embrace of their passion under the black oaks was a piece of something vast and yet, somehow, coming together, like a thousand intricate threads of a tapestry that encompassed a universe. He felt as though he’d passed some sort of deeply difficult test; one of utter trust, one innately tied to her femininity.

To share ourselves with each other means to open our hearts to each other utterly; not just our hopes, but our secret fears, our quiet anxieties, our uncertainty, and all our vulnerabilities. In the woods, under those trees, flowers in my hair, I touched something divine in a way I hadn’t before. You felt it, too, didn’t you, my Kenzie?

Her eyes heard him, and recognized him, russet, green and gold. Yes, Duncan. Yes, my exalted love.

Kenzie turned away from him, lightning-quick--he watched her run down the path and disappear around the gazebo; a minute later he saw a warm light spill from its opening as she flicked on the lantern there, then he watched her little shape flitting out and up to the deck, hair swaying, her shoes slapping up the path, the sliding door opening then slamming behind her. The swing drifted, creaking in the breeze--the loon called out again, from somewhere far away on the lake, the canoe slapping against the dockside. Duncan shivered in the sudden solitude, walking down to the dock to gather the basket up, gazing out on the color reflected on the surface of the lake once more, lost in thoughts of otherworldly vistas, of ethereal, angelic clouds. He turned back to the house, lost inside his thoughts of the wood, the strange names he’d called her in his passion, the new knowledge, the certainty of her divinity--one he still couldn’t find words to describe to her. Maybe under the stars I’ll find them. Maybe with the universe looking down on us, I can speak what I know in my heart to her.

Maybe then I can tell her what I know now: that she really is an angel. Or she was. Or she will be. 

That she truly is divine.