#You’ve lost a lot of blood didn’t make me feel so angry

[captain-lovelace]

I think I need to actually liveblog how annoyed Things Have Gotten Worse Since We Last Spoke is making me. Fucking look at this

I’m not even sure how to properly articulate the contempt I feel for this lazy lazy LAZY writing lacking even style to make up for it. “A baby is a parasite so you should get a tapeworm because we can’t have children” is the lowest effort tier of parasite OR pregnancy horror and it actually astounds me that this book is apparently consistently named as being sooooo Disturbing (TM).

[jojikawa]

Kiss Currency 💋

Somehow, you’ve lost your powers leaving Sukuna as your only means of protection. He uses this as an opportunity to get affection from you.

tw// fluff, adult language, MC is Lilith! (a powerful demoness), lewd/suggestive themes. (Inspired by a post I saw on Twitter), a little bit of blood, biting, lewd themes (sexual intercourse + outercourse)

Masterlist

Ryomen Sukuna was rather anxious while lying on the floor of your living room. The couch and coffee table were pushed aside to make room for the sigil that was etched into your floor that was previously hidden by a cute rug. Your husband was in the middle of the sigil while you sat beside him with a grimoire floating next to you. This was the first time you’ve conducted a demonic ritual on him and he couldn’t say he was excited about that.

He came to you, wanting you in more ways than just kissing and cuddling. He wanted to feel you. But you were uncomfortable with Yuuji being present, so you always denied him. But his pining for you proved to be stronger than any will you had. So, you offered to perform a ritual that would temporarily block Yuuji out. It would be like putting him to sleep and Sukuna was all for it.

Although, this was odd. He could hear the cries and screams of sinners from another dimension invading his ears when his mind was quiet. It was uncomfortable. And it takes a lot to make someone like Sukuna uncomfortable so casually. If he thought about it hard enough, he could feel Lucifer prying into his mind, forcibly putting Yuuji to sleep.

“How long is this shit supposed to take?” You heard him grumble, making you smile a bit. “Oh, you’re so impatient.” You teased, raising your index finger to rub his cheek. The simple gesture actually caused him to blush and break eye contact with you. 

“I have to make sure I do this right. This is Lucifer’s thing. Not mine. If the ritual is interrupted, you’d be put to sleep too.” Your eyes scanned the pages that were filled with the scratch marks of creatures before you and recited things in a language that Sukuna couldn’t understand. With every word that left your mouth, he felt the presence of the boy would vanish without a trace.

“And, we’re done.”

Sukuna heard the soft growl of the demonic book as it closed itself and fell to the floor. He sat up and you stood as well.

“Can you put everything back for me, please?” You asked politely before hearing a standard “Yeah, whatever.” from him. 

You went to the kitchen, as you had plans to bake that brownie mix you had got last week from the grocery store. As you did your hand motion to summon Gnaar, you noticed that the little demon didn’t appear. You frowned before doing it again.

Still, no imp assistant.

You sighed and left the kitchen to look for him manually but, of course, you were intercepted by Sukuna. His masculine arms linked themselves around your waist, trapping you in his grip so that you couldn’t move. He didn’t say a word and only lowered his head into the crook of your neck. You felt his lips place soft kisses on your flesh. The contact made you giggle. “Aw, Ryo.” You cooed, not being able to resist holding him close to you.

“Ow.” Suddenly, you jumped. Between his kisses, he tried using his teeth to mark your skin so that it would be impossible to wear anything with skin showing. He wanted everyone to know you were taken. Even if he weren’t around. 

This was somewhat common. He did this to you in his true form as well…but it never hurt this badly. Your actions caused him to pull away. ‘Ow?’ He thought. Sukuna also realized that your aura was different. For a moment, it felt as though he had lost his mind. Whether you knew it or not, your physical form had cursed energy. It was the kind of energy that could suffocate him if he weren’t careful…now, it seems as though it’s hidden itself inside of your body.

No…it was gone.

It couldn’t be. How can a Goddess just disappear? This had to be an imposter pretending to be you. Of course, that made him angry. Only fools would toy with his emotions this way and feel as though they can get away with it.

“R-Ryo?” You raised an eyebrow when you felt his body stiffen. It took him a moment to reply, but when he did, he wasn’t himself.

“Don’t tell me I’ve been played with this entire time.”

You blinked. “Oh…” You pursed your lips. ‘I suppose it’s time I tell him.’

You sighed softly. “I’m not a copy of myself if that’s what you think. My powers have been somewhat…unstable since I’ve been resurrected. I guess they’re just gone completely…for now.” As you explained, his eyes grew wider and wider. “What? Why is that?” He replied.

“Those sorcerers who exercised me…I think they had help from Adam. Mortal powers typically do not affect me.” You told him. Your face held a subtle frown. He couldn’t tell why but it made him…feel bad. You’ve always been so high and mighty, never needing anyone else, not even him. And suddenly, one day, it was gone. Temporarily, mind you, but still gone, nonetheless. 

But, seemingly out of nowhere, he felt a sense of pride. He remembered all the things you’d say to him. You loved referring to him as little because his power was nothing compared to yours but now…you were the little one. Well, littler than you already were.

“Looks like you have no choice but to depend on me.” His neutral face turned into a twisted grin. You knitted your eyebrows together. “Don’t get any ideas. This is serious. Adam could come at any time and you’re not nearly strong enough.”

“You worry too much about that scumbag…” Although he was concerned for you, there was no getting rid of his amused tone as he fully began to understand just how helpless you were in this situation. To be honest, he wasn’t worried about Adam, but he’d never tell you that.

“...but, it looks like you don’t have a choice. Meaning that from now on, you’ll be taking orders from me.”

At first, you expected Sukuna to refer to something vile…but his wants were rather simple. It was probably the most innocent thing ever that could come from him. He insisted he do everything for you that needed to be done—in exchange for kisses. It didn’t matter where you kissed him. His face, his neck, his mouth. Just kiss him, please. (minus the please part. He never says please.)

Although, you agreed to this, a lot of the things you engaged in didn’t require anything supernatural. Yes, Gnaar was your assistant but you could easily just bake by yourself. Not only that but you were a much better cook than him. There seemed to be no immediate threats that pursued you either. It had only been a few minutes but he was half expecting someone in Heaven to notice and try to eradicate you.

So, he would make up scenarios where you had no choice but to kiss him. He would take advantage of your size difference by holding things over your head so that you could reach them or he’d do something cheesy like hold you and refuse to let you go. No powers = no strength to resist him. And so, you would do it. Every time.

You’d puff out your adorable cheeks before stepping on your toes and placing your lips on the crook of his neck. When you’d kiss him on the mouth, he would grab your wrist and force you to stay for longer.

Sukuna wanted nothing more than to savor your lips. But unfortunately for you, your mouth was beginning to get dry and cracked from all the kissing. You needed to apply chapstick several times. Unbeknownst to you, Sukuna enjoyed this. He loved the taste of it, that faint fruity flavor coating your lips. 

Although he was satisfied with kissing, he wanted more from you. Your husband didn’t follow the rules of his own game after some time. He just demanded things of you.

“Kiss me.” He would growl into your ear. You were trapped between him and the wall. You’re unable to break away from him.

“Kiss me until I’m sick of it.” Even as a mortal, your feminine energy was intoxicating. He couldn't decide what he liked more.

His face was peppered with kisses so much that you could see every mark you left behind. You gently grabbed either side of his face before kissing him one last time. You felt yourself being lifted from your thighs. “Ryo—?” You struggled to hold on as he lazily carried you through your house to the bed. He missed you so much and he didn’t even know. Memories from the past flooded his mind every time your lips touched his face. He loved you.

You.

You.

You. ♡

Butterflies filled your belly when you felt the fabric of your clothing being torn. You wanted to scold him for such brash behavior but you were unable to. Sukuna shoved his head between your thighs, kissing and biting your soft flesh and making you hitch your breath. At the sound of your panties being ripped, you gasped. In an instant, you felt his breath hitting your exposed cunt. “Slow down!” You yelped, feeling his wet, hot muscle glide over your lower lips. Your hands tangled in his hair and you sank into your mattress. You began to remember all of your lewd times with him together.

As always, he was so patient and gentle. You remembered that he was always a good lover to you as well, putting your needs before his own. Making your needs his needs. Despite the popular opinion of someone like Sukuna, he was actually what restored your faith in men. At no point in your relationship with him did you feel ugly…you never felt used…you never felt like you weren’t good enough for him. Even when his tongue was inches deep inside of you, swirling around and causing so much pleasure that you couldn’t help feel pleased with him and wet his face with your juices.

He loved to go down on you for many reasons. The most obvious being that he thought you tasted good. It wasn’t enough to get him addicted, no, he was most addicted to the feeling of your lips on his.

“Ryo~!” You mewled, sending blood rushing to his cock. Your beautiful voice caused him to growl and become rougher by the second. Your essence dripped all over the bed and he knew by then you were ready. Sukuna was practically salivating at your gorgeous holes. It had been so long that he had forgotten how much he loved indulging in your godly flesh.

In an instant, he pulled out his cock. The tip was already shining from his leaking pre-cum. His hands roughly grabbed your waist. You gasped at the contact before you were pulled towards his pelvis.

“Slow.”

Normally, your soft, sweet voice becoming firm was a good indicator that he should probably listen to you or he’d risk being crushed into dust.

But, instead, he flashed you a demonic grin. His teeth were showing and it didn’t seem like he wanted to bend to your will.

“Slow, you say?” He repeated before chuckling darkly. “You’re not as big as you think you are anymore. No—now, you’re smaller than me.” His hands crept up your waist. The tips of his fingers ran up the sides of abdomen that it almost tickled. He held you as if you were the most precious thing in the world but the expression on his face looked like he wanted to devour you.

“You listen to me now and frankly, I think I want to go at my pace.” Sukuna thrusted lightly, the base of his cock rubbed between your folds. Your stomach burned with delight. It was like he knew his strength…

You rubbed your thighs together with anticipation, wrapping yourself around Sukuna and creating friction that made him want to cum. He grunted at your contact but he didn’t fold. He wanted to have his way with you.

“You know, while I’m at it, I might as well fuck those fat ass thighs.” He licked his dry lips as if he was looking at something delicious.

Sukuna effortlessly moved your legs so that they stayed closed around his dick. Both of your legs were thrown on his shoulder where he began thrusting into it.

The man could barely contain himself. He hadn’t felt you in so long. So much precum was leaking on your pelvis and belly. You were surprised that he hadn’t emptied his balls yet from how much of a mess he was making.

A heavy blush was set on your face. All you could do was lay there and allow him to use you…not that you didn’t want it. It has never crossed your mind how Sukuna would act towards you if you were born mortal, perhaps as a concubine, but you sorta liked that he wasn’t afraid of taking control.

You yelped as he picked up his pace. His pants began to fall as he was overtaken by lust. He wasn’t even inside of you and you needed to squeeze your eyes shut at the force he was hitting you.

“Fuck!”

His large hands gripped your thighs and his fingers sunk themselves to into your flesh. “Ryo…we have all night…” You tried to free yourself from his grasp but he was so strong.

“Hell yea—ugh! We do.” Sukuna groaned deeply before releasing himself all over you. His cum stained your stomach and your inner thighs. You were nearly horrified with how much he was able to produce. You sat up but was quickly shoved back down by him. “ ‘m not done.” he hissed, resting his heavy cock on your pelvis. Your belly filled with excitement as you felt his tip rub between your lips once more.

Without warning, Sukuna pushed his length into you, slowly. His grin intensified when he saw you squirm and buck your hips at the contact. You squeezed your eyes shut, unable to move from his grip at all.  “Ryo—”

“Shut up.” His hand wrapped itself around either side of your cheeks, pushing them together and making your lips pucker up. His licked his own at the sight of your plush ones. They were chapped from the constant kissing he made you do, but they were still so good.

“M-Make me…”  You could barely get it out with how firmly he held you. “Hm.” A hum escaped his mouth let you go. He spread your legs apart, briefly pulling out to climb on top of you. His lips let yours again, shoving his hot muscle into your mouth. He fucked into you nice and slow, reveling in every moan that you made. Occasionally, you’d break the kiss only for him to reattach himself to your neck. He didn’t care how much you fussed about bite marks or hickeys being impossible to hide…he marked you up however you wanted.

You held onto him in desperation, digging your nails into his back and clawing at him any chance you got. The pleasure was so overwhelming that he left you begging for him to cum. “Ryo, make me cum, p-please!” Your voice was breathless, and it made him want to give you what you wanted but that was no fun. The best part was overstimulating you until you cried for him to fill your womb with his seed.

“Nah, not—yet.” He grunted, his balls were audibly slapping your pussy. Your panties were so stretched from the activity and drenched in his cum, they were surely ruined now. Sukuna ignored your pleas and went harder. You could see his skin start to glisten with sweat. He was really holding back for the sake of your body. It must have been hard, feeling your tight walls close around him and he couldn’t even breed you as hard as he wanted to.

But you could tell that he was reaching his climax as well. He was always known for his stamina amongst his concubines in the Heien Era, but once you appeared, he was suddenly known to finish quicker than he’d imagined. Your energy was so feminine and alluring. It was like breathing fresh air in a world of pollution. When he met you, he never slept with a prostitute again. He only ever wanted you.

“Damn, is it getting hot or is it just me?” He muttered to himself but you heard him. In an instant, he sat up from you, ripping off Yuuji’s hoodie, tearing it in two. He threw it over to the side and you could see just how intensely he was feeling you. He continued to fuck into you becoming inticed by your moving breasts through your thin shirt. He saw your nipples poking through. What a sexy woman you were, wearing no bra near him. So, he tore your shirt too so that he could watch your breasts bounce along with his strokes.

“God, you’re beautiful—” His speech began to slur. His vision clouded with lust and he lowered your himself onto you. He spread your legs further apart, so fast and easily that your lace panties ripped as well. A montrous growl left his mouth as you felt breath hitch against your neck. Your nails broke his skin, causing blood to be drawn when you felt his teeth sink into the other side of your shoulder. “R-Ryomen!” You moaned as loud as you ever have before, releasing all over his cock and at the same time, he fucked his cum into your womb, breeding well just like he used to. Your moaning gave him the last bit of energy he needed. He kept growling and thrusting into you. Your legs went numb with pleasure and eventually you couldn’t keep your legs elevated anymore. Sukuna lost his strength, having a deep sigh and slumping onto you.

The two of you sat in silence for a bit. There was nothing but the sound of the both of you panting. Sukuna was heaving the most.

“I have to get cleaned up.” Your voice was small, throat strained from the loud moaning of his name. But, your husband didn’t budge. You felt his cum and your juices threatening to drip out your cunt around his cock but he held no sense of urgency. “Ryo!” You tried to nudge him but he didn’t allow you to move him. He just grunted in response anytime you called him.

He was still hard and throbbing inside of you.

“Please, I can’t do anymore…” You whined, “Hurry and move before the sheets get ruined.”

Your experience with him took your mind off your missing powers but when things were said and done, you couldn’t help but wonder what happened to them and when they would be coming back…

[promise-you-doie]

Who knew? | L. Sohee

Who knew the love of your life would be the weirdo you met in a coffee shop?

Sohee x afab!reader

Word count: 8k

Warnings: curse words

Genre: fluff, angst

Playlist

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” Karina snickers, leaving the kitchen so she doesn’t have to be in the same area as you. 

Mad isn’t even a strong enough word to describe how you feel right now. You can feel your blood boiling, and every little sound causes you to get more and more frustrated. The reason? You missed all 7 of your alarms because you forgot to charge your phone the night before. 

If there was anything you hated more than the male species, it had to be waking up at 11 am. 

That means you have only 30 minutes until your first lecture of the day, which by the way isn’t nearly enough time to pick out an outfit, do your skin care, your makeup routine, and your hair, and still get to class on time. 

Waking up at 11 on any day, including the weekend, basically meant that your day was already ruined. You’ve already wasted half the day, so it’s best to protect your peace and just stay home. And that’s what you decide to do after attempting to do your hair but quitting after its lack of cooperation.

“I wanna die.” You slur into a pillow after successfully spending 30 minutes getting angry at any and everything. 

“Why die when the sky is clear and blue.” Winter chimes happily, a little too happy for your liking. 

“Maybe you just need some fresh air and a coffee.” Ningning suggests from the bathroom. “I heard there’s a new cafe down the street, you should go.” She adds 

“I don’t wanna go outside. I wanna lay here and die.” You say it as a joke, but some part of you is serious. 

Either way, You still end up at the cafe. Even though Siri kept giving you the wrong directions. What should have been a 7-minute walk turned into 2, 15-minute laps. It’s safe to say that by the time you arrived, you had completely lost your appetite for coffee.

But you’re persistent in making the best out of this unlucky Monday. Walking into the cafe with a facial expression that tells everyone around you that it was only 12:01 and you were already having a bad day. 

“Hi, could I get an Iced Americano?” You say blandly, forcing a small smile to cover the bad mood you are in 

“What size?” The barista asks

“Large.” You needed it. 

“Will that be all?” He asks. 

 You nod “Yes,” while patting your pockets for your wallet. Here's the catch, you left it at home. Before you resort to your last plan; screaming, crying, and sobbing on your knees, you decide to check your purse. Except, you don’t have that either.

“Your total is gonna be 5.05” The barista looks at you distantly as if he couldn’t see the internal war that you were battling right now before his very eyes. “I-” “I got it.” You watch someone stick their arm past you to put their card in the card reader. Thus paying for your much-needed drink. 

“You didn’t have to.” You say shyly, without even looking in the stranger's direction. 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

“I’ll pay you back.” You finally turn to look at him. “Just uh…” You rush to pull out your phone and unlock it. “Give me your number, and I’ll wire it to you as soon as I get home.” 

There were lots of things you hated, men being on the top of the list and being indebted to people is fourth down from it, with “Especially to men” written beside it in parenthesis. So anytime a man did anything nice to you, you wanted to make sure you paid them back immediately just so they don’t try to hold it over your head later. 

“It’s only five dollars.” the stranger says 

“Just let me pay you back, Please.” You beg, still holding your phone out for him to put his information in.

“Well if you really wanna pay me, you could just allow me to take you out on a date.” His response leaves you dumbfounded. A frown grows on your face when he smiles at you. 

If someone were to ask why you were adamant about burning all the men alive, this was the exact reason why. “You’re kidding… right?” You laugh, because surely this has to be a joke. When you walked out of your apartment this morning you were hoping to just have a cup of coffee and maybe some exercise. The last thing you were thinking was to have some guy hitting on you after he practically forced you to let him pay for your coffee. (you didn’t ask him to do that, so basically he did it by force.) 

“Y/n.” The barista calls out your name, luckily to pull you away from the weirdo that is subliminally asking to get in your pants. During broad daylight, in front of a crowd of people.

“Thank you.” You muster up a smile for the barista and head towards the door. Leaving the stranger behind. Owing him doesn’t even matter anymore. It’s not like you’re ever gonna see him again. 

You let out a deep sigh when you hear him yell “You’re welcome.” once you leave the cafe and the door closes behind you.     

“Today has to be the worst day ever.” You complain the second you step into your apartment. Catching the attention of your four other roommates. 

The apartment was small and probably shitty to most but it didn’t matter to any of you because you were all together and the rent was too high nowadays. So if it took all of you piling over each other just so you wouldn’t be homeless, so be it. 

However, being in a small 3-bedroom apartment with 4 other girls meant no secrets. Not because the five of you were nosy, it’s just that the walls were thin and there was absolutely nowhere to go to get any privacy. Best believe there were things about the girls that you wish you didn’t know. 

“Couldn’t have been that bad,” Karina says nonchalantly, walking past you towards the living room to plop down on the couch and catch up on the series she’s been binging for a week now. 

“Well, first I woke up late..” You’re tailing after Karina but get stopped when Ningning walks in your direction, only to take the coffee out of your hand and begin taking sips out of it. “This is good.” She nods without acknowledging the story you’re trying to tell everyone. Skipping to the couch with your drink still in her hand. 

“There’s probably someone in the world dying right now, while you’re crying about sleeping in for a few hours.” Giselle scolds but she doesn’t even take the time to look at you. She just takes a seat next to Ningning and helps the two girls finish what’s left of your coffee. 

“No, but listen, I went to go to the cafe as you guys suggested. But the directions were being stupid.” 

“Was it the directions or was it you?” Karina asks, shaking around the ice in the coffee. 

“It might have been me but that’s not the point.” You dismiss, “After like 30 minutes I finally find the cafe and I go to place my order.” 

“But let me guess- You forgot your card.” Giselle interrupts you.

“Well, yeah. And then-"Wait, if you forgot your card, how’d you get this coffee.” Ningning asks instead of letting you finish what you’re so desperately trying to get out. 

“The barista obviously thought she was cute and gave it to her for free,” Giselle answers for you. 

“No. I-” 

“For free? I don’t think so. Y/n’s pretty but she’s not ‘I think you’re so pretty that I’m gonna risk my job and be homeless’ pretty. Some guy probably just found interest in her and paid for her coffee, so she insisted on paying him back because she never knows how to accept when someone’s being nice but he refused cash and asked her to just let him take her on the date instead.” Karina somehow predicts everything perfectly, which is kinda scary. 

“Yeah, actually” You confirm, but you’re still at a loss for words. 

“So what did you say?” Ningning turns to you. 

“No, of course. This is y/n we’re talking about.” Karina sits up to give you the last bit of coffee but winter reaches it before you do. Swiping it right from under you and taking the last swallow. 

“Well, at least you got free coffee.” Giselle points out. 

“And I'll tell you what I got,” Winter demands everyone's attention. Throwing her arm around your shoulder and turning to you when she says “We’re gonna get you laid tonight.” 

“What are you talking about?” Giselle asks before you get the chance. 

“Jaemin just invited us to a party and guess who’s gonna be there,” Winter asks, pointing to Ningning who pipes up, slapping her hands together.

 “I’m guessing, Jaemin.” You say nonchalantly. 

“Sohee.” Ningning chimes. By now she’s jumping up and down. 

Sohee is the guy she’s been trying to set you up with for weeks. You never met him and you don’t really wanna meet him. She tells you that she has a feeling that you’ll like him but you don’t think that’s the case because well, he’s a man. 

“I’m not going.” You state pushing Winter's arm off of you so you can go to your bedroom. Pretending not to hear all of them yell “Boring.” before you close the door. 

Another con with living with four other girls is that everyone is always ganging up against you. There wasn’t much ground for you to hold when it was always 4:1. With that being said, it was no surprise that you still ended up at Jaemin’s party even after making 101 excuses as to why you couldn’t go. 

You were a few hours late of course. If the girls were gonna drag you out you had to make sure that you wasted as much time as possible. 

“Here, drink this.” Giselle pushes some drink in your face. 

“What is it?” 

“Doesn’t matter, drink it.” She continues pushing the cup towards you until you take it and down the whole thing. Not caring what it is because you’re sure that she wouldn’t give you anything too dangerous right?

wrong.

“That’s horrible.” You yell over the music, wiping the excess liquid from your lips with the back of your hand. 

“Isn’t it? I thought I was the only one.” Giselle laughs while taking the cup from your hand. You didn’t bother to argue with her, since it was something that she had a habit of doing. Instead, you just sit there around the couch watching everyone else have fun and decide that you’d rather be home. Or probably anywhere else. 

Some people might say that you’re a prick or a party pooper, that you were stuck up and unfun but you’d say, they were absolutely right. What are you even supposed to do at these kinds of things? All you saw were really bad dance moves, a mess, and a hangover in the morning. What could be so fun about that? 

“Woah.” You hear someone say from behind you. You don’t roll your eyes yet but you want to, because you’re almost sure you know who it is before you even see them. “I didn’t think this would be the place that I run into you again.” The boy says when you finally turn around to meet him. 

The universe must absolutely hate you, you think. Because there is just no way that you run into the same man again within the same day. “Why not?” You say arms crossed with a frown bigger than the one you had this morning when you ran into him the first time. 

“Well…” He looks you up and down.

“What are you trying to say?” 

“This just doesn’t look like something that you’d be into, that’s all.” He smiles and leans against the wall beside you. “But I’m glad you’re here.” 

This time you roll your eyes and walk away. You don’t have enough time nor do you care enough to try and change his mind about you. Thankfully he doesn’t try and chase after you but he does yell “I hope you enjoyed the coffee.” to which you hold your middle finger up behind you so he can see it. 

“Y/n where are you going?” Ningning runs to you, tugging at your arm when you reach Jaemin’s front door. 

“Home.” 

“Wait! You have to meet Sohee first.” 

“I’ll be fine.” You say trying to get out the door."

“Just 30 more minutes please.” She begs, getting down on her knees but not letting go of your hand. 

You could argue with her, but one thing about Ningning is that she’s never lost an argument. So you take the easy way out and distract her instead. 

“Oh my god, is that Sungchan?” You spur randomly 

“You can’t fool me Y/N.” She looks at you unamused, but pipes up from the floor the second she hears a stranger from behind yell “Is that Sungchan.” 

You blink once and she’s gone, mixed in with the other crowds of people. And you take your opportunity to run away, grabbing the first taxi you see and heading back to your apartment. 

The steam from your shower follows you from the bathroom into your bedroom when you sit on your bed. Drying your hair with a towel, you take a deep breath. This is great, it’s quiet and calm just the way you like it. 

That is until your four roommates come crashing into your room, screaming and squealing over each other and you can't even make out what any of them are saying. The only things you’re able to make out are something about fate and the Sohee guy that Ningning’s been telling you about. 

“Wait, one at a time.” You stand and hold your hands out. “Giselle first.” You add

“Who’s turn is it to cook tonight? I’m hungry.” She slurs and then walks out of the room before any of you can answer her question. 

“Okay… Winter.” You point to her when she holds her hand up. 

“HI.” She holds her hand over her mouth when she giggles. 

“Hi, Winter.” Her giggle gets louder when you smile back at her.   

“Sohee wants to meet you,” Ningning yells, not giving Karina a chance to speak. 

“I’m not interested.” You state, sitting on your bed. 

“Come on, please. Just once.” She pleads for the second time of the day. 

“No.” 

“He could be the one.” Ningning begs even more.

“I don’t think so.” 

“He’s cute and sweet and probably even romantic.” She adds

“Then you date him.” You mutter, laying down on the bed and closing your eyes. 

“He wants you.” She continues even though you’ve turned your lamp off and shifted comfortably under your bed. 

“I don’t want him.”

Other than your bedroom the best place on earth is the library. An endless world of books and possibilities. The best part about it? It’s completely quiet and the librarian always gives you one of her home-baked cookies. 

Today the library is completely empty which means it’s even quieter than usual. The only noise is the traffic noise and the thunderstorm happening from outside. Which is even better for you because you know your afternoon reading session is going to be better than ever. 

Walking down the romance aisle, dragging your index finger down each of the books until you find the very book you’re looking for. The spectator in the painting: volume 7/9. 

You had spent the last four months binging the book after your favorite book blog suggested it. A story about a prince who falls in love with a violinist and risks his life to save her when she gets sentenced to death after treading too deep into the king's chambers. 

The series was astonishing, just when you thought you knew what was gonna happen next, Boom! A plot twist. 

“There it goes.” You whisper to yourself when you find the book on the top shelf out of place from where it’s supposed to be. 

Your heart drops when you hear a somewhat familiar voice. The library is dead silent so when the boy walks in with his green sweatshirt and crossbody bag you immediately break out of your world. Leaning over the bookshelf to see if the voice belongs to who you think it belongs to.

“Good evening, Miss Lynn.” The boy greets happily leaning over the counter. You can tell he visits the library often because of how comfortable he is, smiling and making jokes with the librarian. That doesn’t bother you, but what does is Ms. Lynn passing him one of her home-baked cookies and joking with him about how he shouldn’t tell anyone. just like how she does with you. 

You take that as a sign to mind your business, not even wanting to know who the boy is anymore. Except when you think to walk away the librarian points in your direction, guiding the boy to the sci-fi genre of books behind you. What’s even worse is the exact second the boy turns around you see that he’s exactly who you thought it was.

“Fuck.” you mutter under your breath and hide behind the shelf. Holding your book to your chest. You clasp your hand over your mouth. You want to stand there and take in the shock that your body just went through but you know the better option is to get out of there as quickly and quietly as possible without him seeing you. Turning on your heels and walking quickly out of the aisle.

You’re almost there when you hear the boy call out for you. 

“Y/n?” You know you should just keep walking away but you can’t. You stop dead in your tracks and slowly turn back to him. He strolls closer to you when he’s sure that he called for the right person. 

“How do you know my name?” you question, suddenly every crime documentary comes to mind and your heart is racing. He could be a stalker or maybe a murderer. 

“It was on your coffee order.” He answers with his usual smile. except this time it’s a lot more reassuring, no one with such an adorable smile could ever harm you. Right?

After a few seconds of silence, he points to the book you’re holding. “you read this too?” 

“No, I was just curious about it. But now that I look at it, it seems uninteresting.” You flip the book around as if you’re examining it. 

“I thought people usually started with volume 1.”

“Is this not…” You feign ignorance, flipping the book around to see that it says volume 7 as if that wasn’t the one you intended to read. “Oh I don’t have my glasses, I tho…”

You trail off looking back at the boy. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.” you scold him.

“You don’t.” he agrees while reaching for the book in your hand. “I don't think you’ll like it anyway, the main character is so annoying. she’s always so defensive.” 

Your first instinct is to defend the woman, even if she is fictional. “She’s not-“ but then you realize you’ve blindly walked into his trap.

“Whatever, just give me the book.” You mutter, pulling the book from his hand and walking out of the library. Not caring that he fondly watches you stomp through the library doors with the book still in hand.

“Why won’t he leave me alone?” You dramatically yell upon entering your apartment. 

“Who?” Giselle pops up first

“he?” Karina comes out second

“No! no one can talk to you right now. You’re already taken.”Ningning runs out grabbing by your arm as if this was gonna protect you from the boy, who’s not even in the room. 

“taken?” everyone except Ningning calls out at the same time.

“By Sohee.” 

Instead of a verbal response, you just roll your eyes, Ningning was very persistent, you’ll give her that.

“Okay wait, who's the guy that won’t leave you alone?” Winter asks 

“The guy from the coffee shop. It’s like he’s following me around, first at the cafe, then at the party, and now at the library.”

“The party?” Giselle questions “Is that why you left early.”

“That and I didn’t really wanna see Karina making out with a bunch of different strangers.” You admit, subtly gesturing to her with your hand. 

“Fair” Karina nods 

“Is he cute?” Winter questions

“The contrary! ” You somewhat shout. You’re very driven and determined to prove that you’re not into this guy even though you know it’s a lie. “What's even worse is that he won’t leave me alone and he knows my name.”

“like a stalker?” Giselle suggests 

“Probably, this is why I hate men.” You throw your hands up

“But you’ll love Sohee,” Ningning adds.

Some days go by when you don’t run into him. five to be exact but it wasn’t like you were counting. You didn’t wanna see him, but it was torture for you to walk into places and constantly look over your shoulder because you thought he might be right behind you. 

You’re sitting at the kitchen counter, head propped up by the knuckle of your hand. You’ve been up for hours trying to finish this paper for your biochemistry class, but you’re not making any progress. There were only two coherent lines written on the paper and a bunch of random letters that appeared when you slammed your head on the keyboard of your computer. 

“I am so fucked.” You mutter, head still stuck into your laptop.

Your head stays there just a moment. You just needed a small break, nothing serious, just a small moment to reboot your brain and give you maximum creativity and intellect. 

Except it wasn’t just a moment, you had slept through your first two alarms. Head popping the second your alarm begins to ring, immediately your eyes go to the time. “No~.” you groan frustratedly. throwing your legs over the chair and running into your bedroom to get dressed.

luckily you had just enough time to get some coffee and this time you brought your card. You made sure of it. 

You walk into the cafe and stand behind the six people who are already in line getting ready to place their orders. Humming along to the tune that they have playing lowly from the speakers, you pull out your phone to kill time, going back and forth through your social media. Until it’s your turn to place the order. 

“Good morning, what can I get for you today?” You notice the barista is different from the last one and much more welcoming as well. 

“I’ll just take a small iced americano.” You say, pulling out your wallet to pay for the coffee. 

“And can I get your name for the order?”

“Y/n” 

“Okay, I’ll call out your name when the order is ready.” 

“Perfect thank you.” You nod and find a table to go wait, Although it doesn't take long for the man to call your name. You stand up almost as soon as you sit down, pick up your iced drink, and head to the door. 

Just moments before you reach the door another man walks into the small coffee shop. You can tell that he’s already preoccupied with his phone to notice that you’re on your way out. So you take the initiative to get out of his way. However, it still doesn’t stop him from bumping into your shoulder and knocking your (thankfully, iced) coffee all over your clothes. 

“Watch where you’re going.” He’s the first to yell, he doesn’t bother helping you clean up the mess he made, and he doesn’t even apologize. 

The asshole just walks right past you. 

“Do you want me to kill him?” “Ye-” You almost say “yes.” on instinct but ultimately refuse and turn around to face the boy behind you. Letting your shoulders relax when you meet his soft eyes and familiar smile. “No, it’s fine.” No matter how hard you try you can’t stop the smile that grows on your lips. Hurrying and looking down before he could see it too. 

“I’ll go see if I can get a mop.” he walks away too soon to hear you say “okay.” and you stand there waiting for him with a stupid smile on your face as if you weren’t just wishing he’d vanish less than a week ago.

You’re only able to pull yourself out of your trance when he finally comes back with the mop. You reach to pull the mop out of his hand so you can clean it up but he stops you. “I go this, you can just wait over there. I’ll buy you a new coffee.” As if you weren’t slowly falling for him already. 

“Okay.” You nod sheepishly, walking to where he guided you. 

You weren’t one to get flustered, and especially not by man. But here you were kicking your feet, blushing and giggling all because someone offered to buy you a new coffee. 

It takes only 9 minutes for him to walk back to you with a fresh cup of iced americano. “You didn’t have-” “I know.” he cuts you off, pushing the coffee towards you until you accept it. You finally do after a few moments of just staring at it. 

“Thanks,” you say last, receiving the cup from his hand and getting ready to walk away. He lets you make it all the way to the door before he calls to get your attention. 

“Wait.” When you stop and turn around he jogs towards you and wraps his jacket around you to cover up the coffee stain that you have smudged into your shirt. “Here.” 

You don't fight with him this time because you’d rather wear his jacket down the street than a huge coffee stain on the front of your shirt. “Thanks.” is all you say, as you smile at him one last time. Turning and walking out the door not forgetting to sneak a few last-minute glances at him through the window.

The walk towards your school was like straight out of a movie. You’re grinning from ear to ear, giggling to yourself, and dancing along the sidewalk. Not caring for the strangers that were oddly staring at you.

You could say the coffee gave you energy but really it was the owner of the green varsity jacket you were wearing. 

Then that’s when it hits you. You stop dead in your tracks realizing that you have no way to return the jacket after today since it isn’t promised that you’ll see him again. 

Without thinking much you turn around and run back to the cafe, fingers crossed that he’ll still be there when you get there

You end up back in front of the cafe, panting and puffing but you still shuffle into the small shop and begin frantically searching for the boy. 

He was already long gone, the cafe had picked up activity since you’d left but he was nowhere to be seen. 

You’d encountered him four different times and even managed to get his jacket, but you still had yet to learn his name. The only thing you knew about him was that he read romance and that he likes coffee, parties, and apparently the color green. 

“Whose jacket is that?” Winter asks from your bed, watching you cautiously hang up the varsity jacket in your closet. You hurry and close the door to restrict her view of the overgarment.

“I bought it the other day.” You spur 

“Oh please, that is not your style.” Winter teases when you continue folding all the rest of your laundry. 

“I just needed something really quick.” You miss when Gisselle goes into the closet behind you and pulls out the jacket. 

“This is a man’s jacket.” She calls out, “I can still smell his cologne.” 

“A man’s jacket?” Karina and Ningning suddenly appear out of thin air. 

Squeezing your eyes shut before shoving your face into the palms of your hands, you wish you could disappear right there and then. There’s no point in even trying to explain yourself. You doubt you’d even get through the story without smiling.

“Y/n honey, we need to talk.” Ningning reaches for your hand. 

“talk?” You ask but get ignored by all four of your roommates. Karina and Winter both guide you to sit on your bed for whatever it is that Ningning has to say. She holds your hand as she looks at you to say “You’re forbidden from ever seeing him again.”

You cry “Wha- forbidden. you can’t do this.” You look around to the rest of the girls to defend you but they do absolutely nothing. 

“We've already set you up on a date with your soulmate.” Ningning leans in front of you so you can turn your attention back to her.  

“soulmate?” You question first but then circle back to the bigger problem. “A date?”

“You’ve led us to do this.” 

“How is this my fault? I didn’t ask for this.”

“we’re worried for you, if you don’t start dating now then when?” Winter interjects. 

“This is absurd, I don’t need to date.” You argue but it’s of no use because you still end up at the diner where the girls told you the date was gonna take place. 

You’re not really dressed for a date, just a simple pair of jeans, some sneakers, and the oversized green varsity jacket that you acquired two days ago. 

Wearing another guy's jacket on a date wasn’t ideal but neither was going on a date against your will. 

It was by force obviously, you weren’t here because you wanted to be but because you had no other choice. Ningning threatened to burn all of your prized possessions if you spent less than 30 minutes with the man she’s been dying to set you up with. 

Quite frankly you were starting to grow curious about this Sohee guy.

“Table 4” You murmur under your breath, it’s not hard at all to find the table. You knew this diner like the back of your hand since it’s the place that you and your roommates used as a hangout spot since your first year of university. However, you begin to question yourself when you see a familiar face sitting at the table where your date’s supposed to be. 

“What are you doing here?” You stop and question. 

The bow stands up when he notices you approach him “I’m here to see you.” 

“You can’t be here, I have a date.” 

“With Sohee?” He asks, but it sounds more like a statement to you. 

You’ve seen this before. (not from personal experience of course.) You’re getting stood up by a man you’ve never even met. The funniest part is you never wanted to go on this date in the first place. “Did he bail at the last minute?”  

“I don’t think we’ve ever gotten a chance to properly introduce ourselves.” The boy speaks, 

“If he’s not coming we don’t need to waste our time, I completely understand.” You halfway turn to leave before he blurts “I’m Sohee.” He holds his hand out.

This was a twist you didn’t even see coming. Looking at him with his hand held out towards you, all you can think about is Ningning trying to convince you that you and him were “written in the stars.” 

“Oh, you’re Sohee.” You repeat followed by a laugh of embarrassment. “Sorry about that, I thought-” You’re getting ready to explain yourself but decided against it. 

“Do you wanna sit down?” Sohee asks, only after watching you stare nervously at the chair in front of you. 

“Oh yeah, that’d be smart.”

Awkward is when you take ten minutes staring at the menu because you thought that would be better than staring at the boy in front of you. Taking your time to read the food items, ingredients, and even calories (which you couldn’t care less about.) Especially when you already knew what you were gonna order anyway. The same thing you always order, A burger with a side of fries and a lemonade. 

“I’ve never seen you this shy before.” Sohee interrupts your thoughts as he pulls the menu from your hands. 

“I’m not shy, I’m just trying to figure out what I wanna eat.” You spit, pulling the menu back so you can finish wasting time. 10 minutes down, 20 more to go.  

“I’m guessing you don’t go on lots of dates.” He continues. You wanna yell at him for talking too much while you’re trying to read, but you don’t. You don’t get the chance to, as soon as you open your mouth the waitress comes out with food. 

“We haven’t ordered yet.” You look up to the kind waitress.

“I ordered for you, I wasn’t sure what you might’ve wanted so I just got you a burger.” As if on cue the server places a burger right in front of you, with a cup of lemonade to match.

You wanted to hate him, but boy was he making it so hard.

“If you already ordered, why did you let me spend so much time looking at the menu?” You ask when the waitress leaves. 

“In case I got something you didn’t like.” He says casually, reaching for his fork. 

Either you're just very simple or he’s made to be the love of your life. it could be both. 

“You didn’t have to walk me home.” You’re looking at the ground, watching how your footsteps are in sync with his. It’s pretty dark outside so naturally it’s colder, but for some reason, it doesn’t bother you. 

“I wanted to.” He says simply, and the look in his eyes tells you that he’s being sincere.

It falls silent again, still awkward but this time it’s a comfortable awkwardness. And now that you kinda got to know him you realize that he’s not nearly as bad as you thought he was. So much for first impressions. 

“We’re here.” You stop right in front of your apartment building, standing on your tippy toes and landing back on your heels.

He first takes a glance at the semi-tall building and then back down at you, who's trying to look anywhere else but him.

“Thank you for agreeing to see me tonight.”

“yeah of course.” You nod even though you were completely against the idea. 

“I had fun.” 

“Me too.” You nod again. 

“So I guess I'll just see you around?” You can tell he’s just stalling now.

“I’ll definitely see you around.” you giggle.

“I guess it’s time for you to go now.” 

“I guess so.” you agree 

“Well, goodnight.”

“goodnight Sohee.” you watch him walk away, but he’s taking his sweet time. dragging his feet along the ground the farther he walks away from you. You almost find it amusing how dramatic he’s being. 

As you get ready to walk in and you grab the ends of the jacket you're wearing you realize that this is the perfect opportunity to return it.

“oh, Sohee.” You only have to call out once for him to come running back to you as if he never left.

“yeah?”

“Your jacket.” He stops you when you’re halfway through pulling it off.

“Keep it, it looks good on you.” 

“Are you sure?”

“goodnight, Y/n,” He says last, walking away and leaving you with his jacket. 

“How’d it go? What happened? Isn’t he cute?” Ningning bombards you with questions when you first step foot through your door. 

“he’s tolerable” You kick off your shoes and throw them off to the side. Then you reach to pull your jacket off, sliding it down your shoulders and hanging it up once you reach your bedroom.

“That’s great, it’s an improvement.” 

“If you say so.” 

“Did he say anything about the jacket? I told you not to wear the jacket.” Ningning mumbles 

“I bet he smelled the other man’s cologne.” Giselle snickers as she walks by.

“He said it looks good on me.” The room goes quiet and everyone stares at you...” Ningning watches you, jaw slacked and dilated pupils. 

“Y/n has a boyfriend, Y/n has a boyfriend.” It takes them not even ten seconds to form a circle around you and begin dancing like school children on the playground. 

Your favorite time of day is when the sun begins to set. When the sky is painted in shades of orange and pink the birds fly over the sky. Your bedroom is flooded with the natural lighting of the sky, matching the mood of the jazz you have playing in your headphones.  

For a moment you sit and gaze out of your window, observing the people walking the streets below you, watching the cars drive past and the trees that sway in the direction of the wind. All of these things distract and entertain you, yet they still remind you of the boy you're trying so hard to forget. 

You stand up and close the blinds of your apartment. Blocking out all light, your room drifts into complete darkness, with only peaks of light shining through the cracks. 

That’s how it stays when you walk into the kitchen with the rest of your roommates. 

‘Oh, there she is.” Karina dramatically announces your appearance when you shuffle into the crowded space. Taking a seat on the stool next to her. 

“How come you don’t talk to us anymore?” Giselle asks 

“You are being dramatic, we talked this morning.” 

“You only asked me if I knew what you did with that hideous green jacket.” She scoffs 

“It’s not hideous, you just have no taste.” You playfully scold. 

“Whose jacket is that anyway?” Winter speaks up, digging in the fridge to pull out the orange juice. Wincing when Ningning slaps her arm for drinking out of the carton instead of grabbing a cup like everyone else. 

“Mine.” You answer. 

“No but actually?” Giselle asks, just as curious as the rest of the girls who are all watching and waiting for you to answer the question honestly. 

“Some guy let me borrow it because I spilled coffee on myself.” You leave out quite a few details but you’re sure what they don’t know won’t hurt them. 

“Okay so wait? Some random guy gave you his jacket-” Winter starts but Karina finishes “And you accepted it.” 

“I didn’t wanna walk around with coffee stains.” You shrug. 

“This is great, this is great. You’ll just go downstairs and explain that to Sohee so he won’t get the wrong idea.” Ningning claps as she gradually gets closer and tugs at your arm. Completely missing how blatantly confused you are. 

“Downstairs?” 

“Yeah, in his apartment” She never stops tugging at your arm. 

“Wait, he lives here?” 

“Yeah? Unit 411.” Ningning finally registers just how confused you are. “Didn’t he tell you?” 

Instead of answering her question you run out, leaving her and the rest of the girls as puzzled as you were a few moments ago. 

Without thinking much you knock on the door, just to see if what Ningning said was true. But after you knock you start growing anxious, suddenly you can hear your heartbeat and your hands are frantically moving at your side.

In the span of 10 seconds, you check the unit number 12 times just to make sure that you have the right one, and you’re not knocking on someone else's door. Soon you start to wonder what would happen if someone else answered the door. 

Just when you come to the conclusion to bail, you hear the doorknob turn and the door opens to reveal the boy you expected to see.  

Unfortunately, now that you see him, you realize you hadn’t planned after this point. So you just stare at him eyes wide, unsure of what to say or do. You’re just as shocked as he is when he stares back at you with a matching expression. 

You clear your throat before you take the initiative to speak first. “Why didn’t you tell me that you lived here too?” 

He answers, “I didn’t wanna scare you.” 

“Oh… that makes sense.” You nod, looking down at your pajama pants and bunny slippers. 

“Do you wanna come in?” He holds the door open for you to accept his invitation but you shake your head and back up. 

“No, I can't, I have to~” You struggle to come up with an excuse. “Finish my laundry.” You finish, nodding as if that’s gonna make him believe you. 

“Okay, well, I’ll see you around then?” 

“I guess it’ll be hard not to.” 

You were never too fond of men. 

While most people had a tragic backstory that led them to hate the things they hate, you didn’t. 

You weren’t crossed by a man in your past resulting in your blatant hatred of the entire species. Sure you’d had unfavorable interactions with quite a few men in your life, but that wasn’t what led you to dislike them. 

It took many years of observation for you to come to your conclusion on the male race. However it didn’t take long for you to learn a few things about them.

But the most important thing was, they were all the same. 

That’s what you thought for years, every man, boy, guy, or male is the same. Yet, you find that your conclusion might not be entirely accurate. 

Looking at Sohee you feel that he’s different from all the guys you’ve ever come across. He isn’t selfish, or obnoxious. He isn’t entirely full of himself. 

He’s actually sweet and easy to be around. 

Which was good for you because, since you found out that he lived within a few hundred feet from you he began to follow you around like a puppy. 

Whether it was walking you to and from class, or even showing up to your apartment with breakfast. 

It was off-putting at first, 

You mindlessly strolled down the hallway of your apartment building. You weren’t thinking of anything other than the leftovers you were gonna eat when you finally got home. 

Sohee however had different plans. The second you turned the corner you noticed him standing at your door with what looked like a bag of takeout. 

Your body goes into shock before you can even comprehend what you’re doing. You hide behind the corner. 

You think maybe that’ll buy you enough time to figure out what to do next. You take a deep breath before slapping your hand over your mouth. 

You take a look at all the options you have. You could either sneak out through the stairs or you could take your chances with the elevator and hope that the girls aren’t on their way home. 

“Who are we hiding from?” Sohee suddenly appears right beside you. Causing you to jump in horror, luckily you were able to come up with a lie on the spot. 

“I was just… looking for my earring, I think I might've dropped it.” You pretend to look around for a nonexistent piece of jewelry. 

“What does it look like? I'll help you find it.” Rather than making him help you look for something that you knew was never going to be found you concocted another lie.

“uh no it’s okay, they were getting old anyways.” You say, pressing your lips into a thin line. 

“Oh well, do you wanna have lunch together?” He grins, holding up the brown paper bag in front of your face.  

But over time you’d gotten used to it, and maybe even came to kind of like his dog-like personality.

“So you’re a man-hater” Sohee starts, despite knowing that you hated when people talked while you were reading. 

He’s not necessarily an exception but you don’t get as mad about it when he does it. You continue reading, but you spare a moment to respond to him. 

“I guess you can say that.” Your eyes are still glued to the words of the book. 

“But you like me.” He continues, you make the mistake of pulling your gaze away from your novel, meeting the annoying smirk he has on his face.

You open your mouth to speak but he beats you to it. “You do know I'm a man right?”

“Yes, I know you’re a man. I have eyes.” 

You watch his grin grow wider before you go back to reading your book. “And I don't like you, I just don’t hate you as much as the others.” 

You say, even though you're sitting in his bed, your hair pushed up into a bun and your glasses hanging loosely above your nose. It’s a Saturday night, you could be doing skin care with your girls or binging cartoons on Netflix. But you chose to be here, in his room spending time with him.

To him, that said a lot.

“Woah, so you're in love with me.” Sohee jokes partly.

“How did you come up with that?” You laugh, turning on your side to face him better. 

Sohee shrugs, “It’s a talent.” He wasn’t too far off. You often denied it whenever someone brought it up but if you were being honest. you were falling for him, faster and harder than you liked to admit. 

The more you resisted, the easier he made it. There wasn’t anything you could do, it was inevitable.

Almost as if it was fate. 

You laugh to yourself thinking about it, laying your book down and fully relaxing into the fluffy white pillows he has aligned on his bed. 

You’re fighting against sleep, trying your hardest to keep your heavy eyelids open. Taking long blinks until you finally give in and let yourself fall asleep. 

Sohee finally comes back with the water you asked him for but you’re already well into your slumber. He’s sure of it because when he gently calls your name all he gets in response is a soft snore. 

Rather than waking you up, he pulls your glasses off, closes them, and lays them on the bedside table. He leaves for a brief moment to get you another cover, laying it over top of you and turning the lights off so you can rest peacefully. While he took the couch for the night.

“Where were you?” Ningning scolds. Not even letting you walk all the way in the door before she starts bombarding you with questions 

“Do you know how long I stayed up waiting for you? I was worried sick.” She continues to yell at you when you finally squeeze past her and walk into the apartment. 

“You went to sleep at nine.” Winter exposes her

“I was worried sick.” Ningning repeats, swinging her index finger around. 

“I slept at Sohee’s.” You say almost in a whisper but Karina is somehow able to hear you all the way from her room. 

“What?” She runs out, “You slept at a man's house? With a man?” 

“Yes, and that’s all we did. So don’t get your expectations too high.” You scold, specifically pointing your finger at Ningning who’s bouncing with joy. You can already tell what she’s thinking before she even says it. 

“No, we didn’t sleep in the same bed,” 

The rain outside sounds more like a hail storm than anything else. You just wait by the entrance of the school and contemplate if you wanna walk home in this weather. 

The sound of the heavy wind isn’t so convincing but the boy waving at you with a bright smile might be enough to sway you. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask, mindlessly walking into the rainstorm to meet him face to face. 

“I came to walk you home.” He responds, his smile unwavering. 

“You shouldn’t have, you’re all wet now and it’s cold you’re gonna get sick.” You’re scolding him but he’s still grinning at you like an idiot. 

“I wanted to.” Is all he says locking eyes with you.

The rain could be snow, the sky might be purple but his eyes, you’re sure are brown. A brown that can only be seen with the help of the sun. Now that the sun was nowhere to be found they were so dark it could be categorized as black. 

You find them the most mesmerizing at this moment. You’re staring at him and he’s staring back at you. That’s when you take the opportunity to see how his lips feel, closing in the space in between you that not even a drop of rain can fit through. 

Isn’t it crazy how love can be found in the strangest of places, who would’ve thought you’d fall head over heels for the weirdo you met in a coffee shop? 

[princncess]

I think it’d be fun to develop a friendship with you. It starts off online, sure, but hey, I seem nice, and I give off pretty good vibes, so eventually we start talking about maybe meeting up. I tell you I’m good to go to your place, or meet up in public. Maybe you still wanna take that precaution, it’s okay. I’m patient. We meet up at a cafe, or a park, or something. I’m just as charming in person, and again, don’t give off any threatening vibes, so eventually— either that meeting, or another— you tell me your address, say you’d like to hang out.

So we do. Once, twice, maybe more. I want to make sure you really think I’m your friend. I want to know everything in your house, everything around it.

Eventually, I’ll come to your house when you’re not there. I won’t tell you. If you haven’t told me how to get in, I’ll just break a window, or the lock on the door. Doesn’t matter to me. When you get home, you see the damages, your heart drops. There’s been a break-in. I don’t give you time to call anyone when I walk up behind you. You have enough time to hear footsteps, turn around. See the knife in my hand. For a moment you get angry, you think I’m doing some shitty, mean-spirited prank. You have to take a step back as I keep getting closer, starting to raise the knife towards your throat.

There’s a smile on my face as I taunt you for being stupid enough to trust me. Maybe you try and fight back. I don’t know where you are on fight/flight/freeze. My reaction times are too good. You swipe at the hand holding the knife and I pull it away, swinging it at your arm. You feel a stinging pain as crimson starts to well up. I tell you we’re going for a drive. To make sure you don’t try anything, I ziptie your hands together while I push the point of the knife into your throat, just enough to draw a drop of blood.

I bring you out somewhere— doesn’t matter, so long as it’s rural, and dark. I say, since you’ve been SUCH a good friend, so trusting, I’ll give you a chance to save yourself. I tell you to run, and if you can genuinely outrun me? I’ll leave you alone. There’s still that grin on my face as I talk to you.

I cut the ziptie, not being too careful about it. Probably nick your wrist. I hope for your sake you’d start running. I give you a moments head start, but I’m not looking to lose. I love the chase. Makes my heart pound like nothing else, makes me feel so focused on catching the pray, catching whatever I’m chasing after.

I want to tackle you, slam your head into the ground, sit on top of you. Cackle madly. You lose. Run the knife up your back, cutting your shirt, and a long line up your spine. You start trying to get up, so I grab your hair and slam your face into the dirt again. Stab the knife into the ground right next to your head.

I don’t even know if I’d wanna fuck you at that point for any other reason but to make sure you knew that you were wrong. You should not have trusted me. You were stupid, and now you’re paying the price. I make sure to tell you all of these as I sink into you.

It doesn’t last long. I made my point. You gave me a fun night. I stand up, brush myself off. Tell you I’ll see you later, in the same voice that I always had done when we were friends. Take some pictures of my defeated quarry. Tell you not to tell anyone, or I’d make it a whole lot worse next time. Leave you in the dust, cut up, face bruised, maybe nose broken depending on the angle I hit you with. Sore and tired, lost and alone. I’ll see ya later.

Did not intend for this to be this long but I forgot that sometimes I really get into the fucking groove of writing. So um. Hope this shit is coherent because I wrote it all in a haze and didn’t proofread it. Anyways I’m fucking FEELING something tonight

hi i am kind of obsessed with this just a little bit um yeah. GNGNGJVMVKNXBXBVN super fucking hot god uj gf hdg the knife in the ground thing ughh

[lxstfuleclipse]

Hello! May I please request Dante and Vergil (separately) taking care of their injured SO? Like reader got hurt on the mission and now have to stay in bed for some time, which they really hate. And that's where Sparda boys come to rescue!

Thanks ヾ(＾-＾)ノ

dante and vergil taking care of an injured s/o.

author’s note - i meant to post this weeks ago but finals got the best of me TvT. i hope you can still enjoy this!

cw: mentions of blood and bodily injury!

【ＤＡＮＴＥ】

“Seriously, I’m fine! It doesn’t even hurt that bad — DAMN!”

“Oh? I thought it didn’t hurt?” He chuckled with that dumb smirk that you were ready to smack off his face as he inspected your wounds.

“It could’ve been a lot worse than this, just kick back and let me take care of you, hon.”

You both just got home from a pretty exhausting mission, everything was almost going smoothly in the end until a demon got the brightest of ideas to attack you, definitely roughing you up as you fought back. It’s last moments alive was you emptying your clips into it while shouting every curse word known to man, putting expletives together that were so crude it was shocking, then Dante started to smell blood.

You tried to brush it off, saying it was just a scratch when Dante protested, wanting you off your feet so he could check the damage done.

He got you on the sofa as soon as you walked back into the shop, getting the first aid once he helped you out of your jacket.

You let out a deep sigh as he cleaned your wounds, letting out an occasional pained hiss when something definitely stung. But, you couldn’t help but feel. . really grateful when Dante was here to take such good care of you like this, so caring and protective, only wanting the best for you. As much of a goofball he was sometimes, under that surface, he was always worried sick for you. You loved him when he thought that he’d never find it, and he’d be damned if he lost you.

“At least nothing is broken, but you should still take it easy for a little while to be safe. Think of it as a nice stay-at-home vacation, you’ll get the full royal treatment.” He said with a grin as he finished patching you up, laying you down to rest on the sofa, your head in his lap as he sat with you.

“Royal treatment, my ass.” You laughed, rolling your eyes. “If that’s the case, I might as well get a bell to ring so you can come to my every need.” You joked, sighing as you got comfortable.

“Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll do that and more.” He chuckled, that grin growing wider as he bounced his eyebrows, making you laugh and weakly shove his face to the side at that stupid innuendo.

You loved this idiot. Although a bummer, the thought of just staying home to relax would be bette than you thought since you’ve been putting yourself to work more than usual. The bills wouldn’t pay themselves, but, as much as you hated it, staying home with your charming and caring boyfriend sounded like the dream.

【 V E R G I L 】

“Vergil, I promise it’s fine!”

“Lie still.”

During your mission, you ended up spraining your ankle and getting a few scratches and bruises while you fought off demons. You were trying to help out Vergil, it was so alarming how all those demons began to gang up on him. You thought you were going to lose him, you wanted to help and that’s what you did.

It felt so strange to Vergil still, despite how long you’ve been together and fought together at each other’s side. The thought of someone wanting to protect him, who was worried for his well being was something that he was still believing, but it felt. . good. Someone cared for him, loved him enough. He was just angry that he let himself get so distracted that you were hurt.

He basically demanded that you stayed in bed until you were better, wanting to look after you. He was able to get some swelling down, cleaning your cuts and holding an ice pack to your bruises.

“Vergil, you didn’t have to do all this y’know. I didn’t mean to make it a big deal.” You spoke softly, wincing as he dabbed rubbing alcohol against your last cut before placing a bandage over it.

“I want to. I shouldn’t have let myself lose concentration, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt if I were more aware.” He spoke, putting the rest of the materials back into the first aid kit. You didn’t know how long he was beating himself up over it but you could tell.

“It’s not your fault, I wasn’t being as careful as I thought I was. I got worried about you and. . I was scared that I was gonna lose you. I let my thoughts get the best of me.” You spoke softly, sighing as you held his hand, gently brushing your thumb against his knuckles.

“But, if I lost you. . I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. I never thought that I’d ever meet someone so caring and loving towards me, I didn’t think that I was capable of earning such a thing. I love you, my sweet sparrow, and I wouldn’t dare let anything else harm you ever again.” He spoke, bringing your hand to his lips.

You couldn’t even fathom how much you loved this man, you were so grateful to have him at your side. You didn’t bother protesting, and happily stayed in bed, putting his mind at ease as he took care of you, attending to your every need. He laid next to you, allowing you to rest against him as he read poetry to you.

You gave into his soothing voice, your eyes feeling heavy as you nuzzled into his shoulder and soon enough, you were sound asleep. Vergil looked down at you, a small smiling tugging at the corners of his lips as he pressed a soft kiss against your forehead.

“Sleep well, my sparrow.”

【 REBLOGS APPRECIATED! 】

[staytheword]

in flames

in flames — part two of the smell of roses [ ← part one → part three ] [ series masterlist ]  [ playlist ] [ general masterlist ]

this series (and this blog) are 18+ !! minors do NOT interact!! no real people are represented. 

•  lee know x female reader / changbin x female reader / lee know x female reader x changbin (NOT a love triangle), all other stray kids members are featured but not main characters.

• non idol au, bikers au, rivals to lovers au, small town au. inspired by sons of anarchy. (not beta-read so I apologize for any mistakes/typos)

• word count: 14k (14,679)

• warnings: mentions of all sorts of illegal activities. corruption and blackmail. a lot of drinking (sometimes excessive). swearing and insulting. drug consumption (weed only). anger management problems. pyromania. mental health issues. mentions and depictions of violence. bar fights. mentions of blood, broken bones, stabbing and general violence. threatening. motorcycle pursuit. guns and gunfire (no wounds). polyamory. smut. fingering, dirty talk, slight voyeurism (hearing only), mentions of "sharing," use of pet names, making out with multiple people.

He’s put down his spoon, his elbows on the table, and is looking at you like he’s two seconds away from killing you – but you’re starting to understand that’s just his face. 

• taglist: @upallnight-s ; @ughbehavior ; @changbinluvr ; @valreadsfics ; @ppiri-bahng ; @mchslut ; @lady---boner ; you? (let me know if I forgot you, I lost my post-it note with your usernames)

The drugstore is quiet, which you are grateful for, because you can grab the morning after pill somewhat discreetly, although everyone knows everyone in this town. At least, the pharmacist is a woman you’ve never seen judge anyone, so you pay for your purchase and escape without a word. 

Once you’re outside, you breathe in the morning air. The breeze is chilly, the sun warm. It’s a beautiful day for being in complete denial of what you’ve done.

You don’t regret fucking Lee Minho. 

You regret fucking the president of the Vices Motorcycle Club. 

As if they are two different people. 

You’ve woken up determined not to erase what happened from your memory, but not acknowledging it either. It was good – great, even – but now you can move on. 

Right? 

You have a message from Seungmin telling you an order is ready for you at the hardware store, so you stop by once you finish work. You’ve been alone all day, feeling both exhausted and fearful, grateful that you didn’t have to explain your mood to your father. Oh, what’s up? Not much, Dad. Just let my greatest enemy fuck me senseless in his clubhouse last night. The usual. 

Well. Of course it sounds bad when you say it like that. 

“Hey, Min,” you smile when you enter the shop. 

You expect him to give you his usual smile, but he avoids your eyes. “Hey.” 

Without another word, he bends, grabs a bag and puts it on the counter.

“Your order. I’ll add it to your tab.”

He’s still not looking at you.

You take a step forward, taking the bag between your fingers. 

“Thanks,” you say softly. 

His eyes stay focused on the form he’s filling, his jaw clenched, his face closed. Something’s wrong. 

“Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” he replies, but his voice is sharp and angry. 

“Seungmin…” 

He clenches his fists, seemingly trying to stay calm. Your heart is squeezed so tight in your chest it hurts. Your friend is angry at you. Really angry. And you don’t know why. 

You hope it’s not what you think. 

“Did I do –”

“You’re a fucking hypocrite, you know that?” he finally snaps, looking up at you. His eyes break your heart – dark and resentful. They pin you to the spot. 

“What –”

“Look at me in the eyes and tell me you didn’t spend the night at the Vices’ clubhouse last night.”

You swallow. Your throat is dry. Oh no.

“Yeah,” Seungmin chuckles bitterly. “You really thought no one would notice? That no one would see you? It’s all over fucking town. I had to hear it from my mother.” 

Your cheeks burn with shame. “Min, I…” 

“How did you think I felt hearing her tell me that you, my friend, the one who was always the first to support me in hating these guys, spent her evening cuddled up with their president, drinking beer and watching a goddamned movie?” 

“I was going to tell you,” you mutter, shaking. “I can explain. It just happened, it…” 

Seungmin sighs. “I don’t even want to hear your excuses.”

“Please just hear me out. Minho invited me, and I –”

Seungmin’s eyes widen and you realize that is the worst thing to say.

“Minho?” he repeats. 

You bite your lip. You feel it slip it out of your hands. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“This must be a fucking joke. Are you friends now?” 

The thing you hate the most about yourself is that you’re an open book. So of course your friend reads it on your face. Of course he does. 

“Wow,” he lets you, his voice completely flat, and it’s even worse than the anger. “Are you… Are you fucking him?” 

“Seungmin,” you plead pathetically. 

“You know what these guys did to my mother, how scared she is, and you do that? Above all things, you do that? What the fuck is wrong with you?!” 

“I told you, it just happened, and it didn’t mean anything, I swear,” you cry out.

“Get the fuck out of my shop.” 

His voice is ice cold. It sends a shiver down your spine. 

“Get your shit,” he enunciates, “and leave.”

You look into your friend’s eyes, but there is nothing. You feel his disgust, his spite, his disappointment – and each is a digger sinking into your already bleeding heart. You know it’s useless to argue. You don’t have any excuses. 

So you look away, and then you walk away, avoiding the sight of your reflection in the shop’s window as you go along it. 

Hyunjin calls your name, but you ignore him. You throw a middle finger behind you and keep walking. Your steps are far from straight, but you don’t care. 

You’re too drunk to care about anything, which was the whole point. 

It’s bitter cold outside and you’re not dressed for it, because you barely feel it. All you know is you have to find a place that will serve you alcohol, since Rossi’s will not. You’ve been there for the past hours, asking for drink after drink until Hyunjin started to glare at you, only to eventually say you’ve had enough. 

You managed to argue for another one but then he had shaken his head. I’m getting you home. You snarled at him. No.

Who cares, anyway? 

You didn’t have anything.

You didn’t have anyone. 

You were a mess. 

“Y/N!” Hyunjin calls again. He’s stepped outside the bar and watches you go. He can’t follow you – he’s the only one on the clock tonight – but you know he’s hesitating. 

As you keep walking away, you hear the faint sound of his voice, but it’s not addressed to you. Maybe he’s calling someone. Ha. Joke’s on him – no one will want to come and get you. You don’t care.  

You stumble through town until you finally get to another bar. You rarely go there because it’s not really your crowd – they don’t have the liquors you like and instead of the music you can hear at Rossi’s, they show sports matches. It seems like it’s football night because the place is crowded, but you push through the crowd until you get to the bar, where you ask for a drink. 

You down two shots of whiskey and ask for a beer. You’re not a football fan, you don’t even know what teams are playing, but you still cheer with everyone else. A few guys invite you to their table, and you let them pay for another drink. 

One has his arm around your shoulder. You faintly recall he’s a construction worker – not like you care who he is. He gives you attention and you relish in it, playing hard to get. He leans towards you and slides his hand on your thigh, which he rubs not so gently, and you’re so deep in your self-hatred you consider letting him do whatever he wants to you. 

It’s not like you want to feel something. 

Quite the opposite. 

His lips are on your neck, and you smell his breath and you close your eyes. 

“What the fuck?” someone close to you says. “What are they doing here?” 

Your eyes flutter open, the guy against you pressing himself against your ass. 

“Dude, I think…” 

A hand grabs the guy by the collar. Another collides with his nose – it snaps in a loud noise. You blink, unstable on your feet. 

You’ve seen this scene before – except last time, Minho just let Jisung go.

He doesn’t this time. 

There’s blood and screams and crunching noises. 

It’s not just Minho, it’s a bunch of them, all in their leather vests, fighting against the thigh-guy and his friends. You see him, his silver hair a mess, fists tight in anger, blood sprayed on his beautiful face.

Changbin crushes a guy’s skull against the bar. 

Chris is fighting two guys at once and winning.

Jisung shatters a bottle against someone’s head and is shoving the shards in his chest. 

You stagger and someone holds you up. Felix. 

“Let’s go,” he says, his voice deep, guiding you gently towards the exit. 

You can’t comprehend a single thing that is happening – but you follow him outside, squeezing his hand so hard you’re sure you’re hurting him. From up close, you see he has long eyelashes and so many freckles you keep losing count. 

You both enter a car. A taxi, you imagine. You don’t notice. 

“Felix,” you slur, slumped against him. “Felix.”

“Yes, Y/N?” 

“Why do you like fire so much?” 

You’re not articulate in the slightest and you wonder how he understands you, but he does. He chuckles. 

“Because it’s alive.” 

You stare back at him. “That’s beautiful.” 

He smiles. “I agree, Y/N.”

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“Home.”

“Ugh,” you groan. “I don’t want to.” You start to struggle against him, but he just chuckles.

“Not your home, Y/N. Ours.” 

You’re surprised but strangely delighted, so you stop arguing. Instead, you start asking Felix questions about fire – how long it takes for this or that to burn, what is his favorite thing to set fire to. It’s not a long ride, or maybe it is, you have no idea. Felix doesn’t even pay the taxi, if it even is one, and helps you out of the car. 

A small house stands in front of you. It looks modest and even desolate but still cozy. You head towards the house, and Felix holds you up and it’s a good thing because your legs barely work, your brain even less. 

“Will you show me a fire trick?” you ask him. 

“I have to get you to bed first, otherwise the boss will be mad.” 

“Ooh,” you chuckle mischievously. “We wouldn’t want him to get mad, right?” 

Felix shares a knowing look with you. He guides you inside the house, which is plunged in darkness, so you don’t see anything. You just stumble through the corridors and doors until Felix helps you sit on a bed. You bring your legs against you, rubbing your eyes. 

“What happened back there?” you ask. 

Felix shrugs. “Just some scores that needed settling. Nothing to worry about.” 

“Did you know I was there?” 

“Yeah,” Felix answers carefully. “Hyunjin said you might need a lift home.” 

You gasp loudly. “You know Hyun?” 

“Everybody knows everyone in this town, Y/N. You should know that.” 

“Yes, but how?” 

Felix indulges you, playing with his pack of matchsticks. He tells you the old story of how he met Hyunjin. He had just lost his parents in a car accident. Hyunjin’s parents owned the funeral place, and they had talked a lot the day of the burial. Hyunjin had been the one to tell him all the right things. They stayed good friends, though they didn’t talk every day. 

When he’s done, you have tears running down your cheeks. “That’s so beautiful. I’m so sorry about your parents…”

“That’s ok, Y/N. It was years ago.” 

“My dad must be so ashamed of me,” you moan, sobs shaking your shoulders.

“What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him, right?” 

You’re not sure that advice applies to Temperance, but you’re too drunk to realize it. Instead, you smile at Felix. 

“Let’s play with fire together.” 

You both sit down on the floor, and he brings a variety of things to show you how fast they burn. You’re both giggling like teenagers when the front door of the house opens to let in a few people, their heavy boots making the floorboards shake. 

“Felix?!” a voice calls.

“Here, boss.” 

He stands up just in time for Minho to appear, but although you’ve sobered up, you’re still too drunk to move quickly – Felix’s speed almost makes you dizzy. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Minho asks. 

“Just – I was –”

“I told you to get her in bed,” Minho hisses.

“She kept talking to me,” Felix mutters. “Besides, she’s here safe, right? That’s what you wanted. We were just talking.” 

You had forgotten about the matchstick you were holding, and the burn stings your finger before you let it go. 

“Aouch, FUCK,” you snarl. 

“Safe, huh?” Minho says. 

Felix bows his head, but Minho only sighs, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Thanks, Yongbok. You can go.” 

A second later you are alone with Minho – he crouches next to you. 

“Hey, Trouble.”

You smile drunkenly at him, pointing at his cheek. “You have something here.” 

“That’s called blood.”

You pout. “Ew.” 

“Be grateful it’s not brains.” 

He says it lightly, and his face looks so gentle, it’s a brutal contrast with the blood on his cheeks and fingers, that you notice as he cups your cheek. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Fantastic,” you answer. 

“Y/N.” 

You’re pretty sure – but you’re very drunk – that it’s the first time he’s called you by your name. Not Trouble. Not doll. Your name. 

You bite your lip. “It should feel like a mistake,” you whisper. “But it doesn’t.” 

“Life’s too short for regrets, doll,” he says. “Your true friends will come around.” 

You look up at him, eyes burning with exhaustion and tears. “Is everyone okay?” 

“Jisung got a nasty cut, but he’ll be fine. Don’t worry about him.” 

“And Changbin?” you ask. 

Minho smiles. “Changbin’s fine.” 

“Okay.” 

After a second, he takes you gently in his arms, lifting you up. He helps you remove your shoes and your clothes – it’s not like he hasn’t seen you before, anyway. He hands you a t-shirt, which feels soft against your skin, and you lay down in bed afterwards, slipping under the covers, and he strokes your hair. 

“I’ll be right back,” he says. 

“Hm?” 

“This is my room.” 

“Oh,” you chuckle. “So this is the squeaky bed?”

With a mischievous smile, you start to rock your body – and just as expected, the bed squeaks, the headboard slamming into the wall. You snicker. 

“That’s very loud.” 

“Told you,” he says with a wink, closing the lamp on the bedside table. 

You instinctively close your eyes, and the darkness almost instantly puts you to sleep – you’re just conscious long enough to feel a kiss on your forehead, and in response, you whisper Minho’s name and wish him good night. 

When you open your eyes in the early hours of the morning, you are not alone. There is a warm body against yours, an arm around your hips, a breath against your neck. The blinds are drawn, but pale light pierces through enough for you to see around you. You blink, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. Your mouth opens in a yawn, and you slowly turn on your back. 

Minho is still asleep, his face buried in the pillow, his hair a tangled mess in front of his eyes. His mouth is slightly open, letting you glimpse at his cute teeth – he looks so young. So kind. So beautiful. 

He takes your breath away.

You would have thought you’d be bothered to wake up next to him, but you’re really not. You even find yourself smiling fondly, playing with his hair a little. His hand has fallen on your stomach, warm and heavy. His arm is still bandaged from the other day. His scar is pink, and you want to kiss it. Like you, he’s dressed – it’s weird to see him in just a plain t-shirt, though. His bed is not very big, so you have no choice but to stay close. You take a few seconds to look at him, trying really hard not to let your thoughts wander, but it’s hard. 

You used to see the leather cut, and the leather cut only.

Then you saw Lee Minho, president of the Vices. 

Now, you just see Minho – and yet, he’s all of those things at once. 

It’s silly. There’s no future with Minho. You don’t even want that – he just makes you feel good right now. Not an old lady type of guy, he said. 

You need to go. You need a glass of water, something to eat, and a shower. You’re working this afternoon. You have a life to get back to.

Sort of. 

You think about your father. About Seungmin. About Hyunjin. 

What do they think of you? 

Not much, you tell yourself.

You inhale slowly, chasing the thoughts from your head. You can’t apologize for who you are. You’ll apologize for the hurt you’ve caused them because you feel awful about it. But you can’t be sorry for who you are, as messed up as that person is. 

Gently, you take Minho’s hand to put it aside so you can leave the bed, but when it’s barely in the air, his fingers sprawl around yours and clutch them. 

“Hmm.” 

He guides your hands, intertwined, towards his lips, and places a soft kiss on your fingers. It’s a good thing you’re laying down because your legs turn to melted butter.  

“Am I pretty when I sleep?” he asks.

You scoff. “You look like a little bunny.” 

“Bunnies are cute, aren’t they?” he says, his voice hoarse, opening his eyes slowly. 

“Sometimes.” 

He smiles lazily at you. “Did you sleep well?”

“Fine, I think.” 

“I slept more than fine. That sweet ass was right against my dick, keeping it warm.” 

You shake your head with a sigh, although there’s an obvious smile on your face. “You start early.”  

“I just never stop.” 

He was inches away from your lips, so it’s not a stretch or a surprise when he steals a kiss. You think you must look terrible, smell foul, but he clearly doesn’t care. His tongue slips into your mouth, curling against yours, and you can’t help but arch your back, wriggling closer.

“I have a question,” you breathe. 

“You start early,” he teases. 

“Your scar,” you ask. “What happened?” 

He gives you a long look, but his smile doesn’t go away. 

“It’s a long story, Trouble. I’ll tell you around a drink.” 

You nod in agreement. 

His hand leaves yours, slipping down your chest to grab your breast, teasing your nipple above the material. You shudder against his lips, breathing heavily, forgetting everything about what you should be doing. You love lazy morning sex, and Minho is offering you just that. 

“When I came to bed last night,” he breathes, his other hand sliding inside your underwear to caress you. You hiss, bucking your lips. You hadn’t been particularly aroused, but his touch is making quick work of it. “And saw you there in my bed, your hair a mess, that sweet mouth of yours parted…” He slips a finger inside of you, tentatively, and you moan. “Fuck, I wanted to slide between your legs and wake you up by devouring you.” 

“Minho…” You’re breathing hard. Your hand cups his ass before you start to stroke him above his boxers. He’s still soft, but you feel him harden against your touch. 

“Maybe we can try it sometimes?” he pants. 

“Yeah,” you agree, moaning softly. 

“Or would you prefer waking up with my dick caressing you instead of my tongue? Once you’re awake, you can moan for me, and I’ll fill you.” 

You’re hazy with sleep and your hangover and his words are making you lose control. He has a few fingers inside you now, and you’re soaked and in need of him – and so is he, by the way his length throbs in your hand. 

“Do you have –” 

You weren’t safe the other day – but this morning you need to be. 

“As you wish, doll,” he nods. 

He rolls over so he lays above you, sitting up to reach inside his bedside table drawer. He slips on the condom, raises one of your legs, and enters you. You gasp softly, your body adjusting, and he starts to roll his hips. 

His bed is very noisy, but you hope it’s early enough so that his roommates won’t be bothered. You’re too into the moment to really care, anyway, your arms around Minho’s neck, his breath mingling with yours. 

“That’s so good,” you whisper. “You fuck me so good.” 

“Tell me, baby doll,” he sighs. “Tell me how much you like it.” 

You do, in his ear, against his neck, around his lips. His thrusts are deep and measured, hitting you in all the right spots. His bed is like background music and you feel your mind unravel. You’re so close to coming, and you tell him not to stop. He grabs your chin, more gently than he has before.

“Look at me,” he whispers. “Open your eyes and look at me as you come around me.” 

You’re lost in the daze but you manage to open your eyes, finding his wide open – they catch yours and hold you there. You can barely moan anymore, your breath caught in your throat. 

Minho lifts your hips slightly, angling your body so he can go deeper, and that finishes you – you come like a roar of thunder after lightning strikes. 

“God, that feels good,” he groans, slowing down just to accelerate again. His breath hitches, and he pulls out, stroking himself as he comes. 

You let your head sink further into the pillow, your mind completely empty. Minho falls beside you, kissing your shoulder. You need a shower, you need to go home. But you just want to sleep again – and you do, just for a while, until the sun is bright and warm. 

It’s a quiet life you’re living. 

You wake up alone, go to work, come back to your apartment, and go to sleep alone. 

Seungmin still doesn’t talk to you. Your dad and you avoid each other as much as you can. Only Hyunjin still feels like your friend, but you’re scared it’s just to keep an eye on you – so much you barely go to Rossi’s anymore. 

You haven’t seen Minho in a while. 

You heard he’s busy. The pick-up driver Changbin put in the hospital decided to press charges, another police department behind his back – apparently the beat-up happened out of Temperance lines – and it’s a whole mess. 

Changbin is in jail, temporarily, until everything is figured out. 

You don’t want to bother anyone. 

But you’re worried. 

About Minho. About Changbin. About all of them. 

You hate the feeling. 

Never were you supposed to get attached. 

One night, you’re in tears, your body trembling from confusion and loneliness. You’ve inhaled some weed but the smoke just made it worse. You wander in your apartment but you grow too restless and can’t stare at the walls anymore. So you grab a hoodie and your keys and you seek refuge outside. 

You want to see Seungmin. You want him to tell you, with this steady voice of his, that you’ll pull through. But your friend is out of reach. 

So in the fog of self-doubt, your feet lead you to Hyunjin. You’re ashamed, but you still go. It’s late, and you look terrible, with your red eyes and your tear-stained face. You don’t care. 

Hyunjin opens his door, wearing a tank top and boxers. From the state of his hair, you’ve pulled him out of bed. He rubs his eyes, frowning. 

“Y/N?” 

“Hey,” you say, voice breaking. “I woke you up, right?” 

“It’s fine. Seo-ah is still asleep, though.”

You nod. “I’m sorry, I just…” You sigh. “Fuck, why am I here?” 

You shake your head. You’re high, you feel sick, and you can’t stop crying. Hyunjin puts a hand on your shoulder, pulling you inside his apartment. 

“Did something happen?” he asks, his voice tense. 

“No, I just… I don’t…”

You let out a whimper, falling against his shoulder.  

“I don’t feel so good, Hyun.” 

He doesn’t say anything, just wraps his arms around you. 

“I’m so sorry,” you sob quietly. 

“Why are you sorry? C’mon, don’t be silly,” he asks, stroking his hair. “Sit down.” 

You listen to him, and he sits with you. Instantly, you feel better - you just need someone to hold you. 

After you calm down, he heats some food up for you, like he knows you haven’t eaten correctly in a while and talks with you as you eat. His eyes are stable. His presence is soothing. He calms your tears just by being here, and listens to you as you tell him everything. How you’re ashamed and not at all, how you miss Minho and not at all, how you wish for Seungmin’s forgiveness and not at all, because you don’t deserve it.  

Hyunjin strokes your hair as you cry and tells you you’re not a bad person. 

You wish you could believe him. 

It’s only noon, and you have nothing to do. 

Your father is taking care of the shop this afternoon, and he’s insisted you go home because you look tired. You didn’t have strength to argue with him, so you agreed. 

Now you’re walking around town aimlessly, not wanting to go home, trying to resist going by the clubhouse to see if anyone’s there.

It’s been a while. Weeks.

You’re not sure. 

As you walk, you inhale deeply, the sun warm on your face. You decide to stop and get yourself an iced coffee, and it helps with the headache – but it soothes nothing else. 

You decide to head home for a nap when you spy blue hair ahead of you on the sidewalk. 

Your heart clenches in your chest. 

“Jisung!” you call, accelerating your step.

He keeps on walking, seemingly not having heard you, and he’s quick, so you have to speed up. 

“HAN JISUNG,” you yell out, and finally he slows down and you’re able to catch up with him.

“Oh, Y/N,” he says. He’s not wearing his cut, which is odd. Just a white shirt and jeans – he looks strangely normal. 

“Are you okay?” you ask him. “I haven’t seen you around in a while.” 

Any of you, you bite down.

“Right,” Jisung says, blinking excruciatingly slowly. “It’s been a little busy.”

“I heard…” 

Jisung gives you a smile. “I have somewhere to be, but if you want to meet up later we can. I really need to get high.” 

“You and me both,” you sigh. “Come to my place?” 

You make plans for later, and although the knot in your stomach remains, it feels a little looser. Before you head home, you go to the grocery store, grabbing beer and snacks. You take a shower, change, and start pacing. 

Jisung, of course, arrives 48 minutes later than the time he gave you, but you’re relieved to see him, to have company, you don’t even bring it up. 

You sit on your couch, music playing in the background. He starts to fill his glass pipe and you munch on Cheetos.

“How is he doing?” you ask Jisung when he mentions Changbin. 

He shrugs. “Okay, I think. Jail is no joke but we have friends there. Vice’ll be fine.” 

He lifts his eyes to give you a smile. 

“I’ll tell him you’re thinking of him. That ought to help.” 

You slap Jisung’s shoulder so hard some weed spills on the ground. 

“I swear if you say anything, Han Jisung…”

“Careful with the weed, dude,” he just chuckles, continuing his task. 

You bite your lip. “What about Minho? He’s not in town, is he?” 

“No,” Jisung says, shaking his head. “He’s laying low.”

“Like in a safe house?” 

“Something like that.” 

You moan, wriggling on the couch.

“C’mon, Ji, give me something.” 

“If it is a safe house, then telling you about what would defeat the purpose, right? You ask too many questions.” 

“Tell me about it,” you groan. 

“He’s fine, Y/N,” Jisung grins. “Think about it this way. When he comes back, the distance will just make the sex better, right?” 

You scoff at him, shaking your head. 

“What happened to you, Ji?” you say. “Where have you been all those years? Will you ever tell me?”

“I would, but I barely remember it myself.” 

You know he’s half-joking, but you decide not to insist. You don’t need to know, anyway - and you find it’s an enthralling thing about him for his past to remain a mystery. Instead, you start talking about random things, exchanging the pipe to take your hits. The weed is very good quality, so you feel yourself drift away quickly. 

It’s a night of snacks, laughter and smoke. 

You wake up the next morning, still on the couch, Jisung sprawled on the floor. He looks like a baby when he sleeps. You shake him slowly, just in case he has somewhere he needs to be. He sniffles, mumbling something about an appointment, and he leaves your apartment with his eyes only half open.

The next day, someone walks in the shop looking confused. It’s a delivery driver, and he’s holding a single rose. You recognize the name on his baseball cap - it’s a flower shop from a nearby town. You arch an eyebrow at him. 

“Can I… help you?”

“Are you Y/N?” he asks, glancing at his phone. 

“Yeah,” you say. 

He shrugs, like he gives up on trying to make sense of the situation, and hands you the rose. 

“Delivery for you.” 

“You’re delivering flowers to a flower shop, you know that, right?” 

He shakes his head. “Just doing my job.” 

“Right. Thanks.” 

You take the rose. It’s the color of blood, so dark it almost looks black. Its thorns are sharp. You glance at the label. 

Heard you were worried.

Cute.

Don’t cause too much trouble without me. 

You can’t hold back your smile.

It’s a beautiful night. A light breeze, an indigo sky. 

You arrive in front of the Vices’ house. It’s as you remember, except all the lights are on, and you can hear faint music coming from inside. You walk slowly to the door, feeling strangely nervous. 

Jisung wrote that morning. 

Vice is getting out. We’re back. Party at 10. 

It’s been weeks - and they almost feel like a dream. But you’re just happy to see them again, thrilled at the idea of being a little less alone. 

You miss Minho. All of them, even. But mostly Minho.

You’ve dressed up a little for him. Fishnet tights, a black dress. 

You’re pretty sure he’s going to like it. 

The door opens on Jisung, who hurries you inside. 

“We’re getting the cake,” he explains, guiding you into the living room. People are chanting something like happy you-got-out-of-jail-day and you find yourself joining them. You catch Minho’s eyes from across the room. He looks tired but happy. Relieved. 

Changbin has a smile on his face when they place the cake in front of him – you’d never see him smile before and you think it really suits him. He looks even more tired than Minho, his hair is longer, the circles under his eyes dark. But he’s smiling. 

There are no candles on the cake. Apparently Felix stole them all one night for an experiment and forgot to buy more. 

Changbin chuckles, applauding with the rest. Then he looks up at you, and you give him a warm smile. He echoes it with a nod, eyes sparkling. 

The crowd breaks around him and you just laugh with Jisung, who gets you something to drink, and you promise to share a few hits later. You stand there quietly, a few minutes later, when Minho walks up to you. His grin is mischievous. 

“My little Trouble,” he says. “It’s good to see you.” 

“How do I look?” you say, turning around to show the outfit you’ve carefully selected.

“Like a fucking treat.” 

His hand slides across your thigh, softly stretching the fishnets you’re wearing. 

“I can’t wait to rip those later.” 

You laugh, and he throws an arm around your shoulder like you’ve seen each other only yesterday. You want to ask about the past weeks, but they are clearly in mind to celebrate, and you don’t want to ruin the mood – so you just let yourself be carried away by the festivities. 

You drink a little, not too much – you want to keep your senses close to you. You still get a hit with Jisung as promised and then decide to cook mac and cheese with him, but you both forget to turn on the stove and the saucepan is quickly forgotten. 

You’re squeezed between Felix, who is whispering to a giggly Cherry, and Minho. You mostly listen to their conversations, feeling both out of place and like you belong there. It’s an odd feeling, but you’re soothed by it. 

Changbin is right in front of you. 

There’s a new tattoo on his arm. 

He keeps smiling. 

You can’t help but stare at him. You don’t know what it is, but you’re hypnotized. There’s just something about him tonight you can’t get enough of. 

It might be the way he’s holding the girl next to him, stroking her thigh.

You look at his fingers, the rings he has on them, and you suddenly imagine them in your mouth. Focus. The weed must be getting to you. You let out a giggle and try to focus on something else. 

Time passes and you find yourself glancing at Changbin again – he and the girl have started making out. You’re just in time to see him grabbing her head and swirling his tongue inside her mouth, and you have to clench your jaw to stop your whimper from escaping your lips. Discreetly, you cross your legs, applying just a little bit of pressure. You’ve been a little touch starved, but damn. You need to get yourself together. 

Luckily Minho never lets out of his grasp for long, either stroking your hair or softly caressing the skin inside the little squares of your fishnets. You have to promise you’ll be right back when you stand up to go to the bathroom. 

The house is not too big so it’s easy to find your way around. You find the bathroom and grip the door’s handle – but you stop. Since the music is quieter here, you can hear faint noises coming from another room. You glare at said door. It’s unmistakable – the sighs, the moans, the thumping. People are fucking. You remember Changbin grabbing the girl’s hand and leading her away. Oh.

Oh. 

You shouldn’t – you really shouldn’t, but fuck it, you still do. You approach the door on tiptoes, although you’re convinced they’re not going to hear you by all the noises they’re making. Well, her, mostly – but it seems like you can hear muffled groans that are more masculine than feminine. You put your ear against the door, listening. Faster, Vice, she says, and you bite your lip like your life depends on it. 

You can’t resist. You listen. 

She tells him to go harder. He slaps her skin – you can only guess where. When her moans start to annoy you, they suddenly get muffled, and you imagine Changbin’s hand around her mouth, quieting her. You close your eyes, your fingers going between your legs to just press your sensitivity. 

“Really, Trouble? I didn’t expect you to be a voyeur.” 

You spin around, both of your hands going on your hips, your face on fire. Fuck, fuck, fuck. “I’m not,” you scoff. “I was just…”

Minho raises an eyebrow, approaching you slowly.

“…making sure no one was getting killed in there. Noises were weird.”  

“Hmm, hmm,” he nods, stopping an inch away from your face. 

“Turns out, she’s fine. Just fucking,” you chuckle. 

Minho just stares at you, and you scowl. 

“Fine,” you snarl. “So what? I was just curious.”

“Our Vice certainly seems to have caught your attention, doll,” Minho says. “Did something happen between you two? You’ve been thirsting on him all night.”

“Wha – I have not been –”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you eyefuck him,” Minho sighs. “Pressing those little legs together. Your cheeks have been red all night.” 

You slide your tongue against your inner cheek, but your shoulders roll back. It’s no use with Minho anymore. ���Was I that obvious?” you admit in defeat. 

“Not to the casual observer,” he shrugs. “But I keep a very concerned eye on you. I haven’t seen you in a while.” 

You play with your fingers, biting your lip. 

“Does it… bother you?” 

“That you’re interested in him?” 

“You have cockblocked me twice before,” you sigh. “You said nobody touched what was yours.” 

Minho laughs, pushing away a strand of your hair. He smells like burnt wood and whiskey. “That doesn’t apply to Vice. He’s the only one I can share with.” 

You arch an eyebrow. “Really? Why?” 

“No particular reason. It’s just like that.” 

He leans towards you, starts kissing your neck, and you close your eyes although your mind is elsewhere. You could say you’ve forgotten how soft his lips feel against your skin, but that would be a lie. “So you… You wouldn’t…”

“Mind if you made a move on him? No, doll. By all means. I’m sure he’d oblige. We have similar taste in women and I caught him staring at your ass several times tonight.”

You sigh softly, leaning into him, your hands sliding against his waist to pull him closer. Then you realize what this could sound like, and you blush furiously, putting a finger on his chest to push him away – just enough so you can look at his face. 

“Not that I need your permission to do anything,” you precise.

“I would never think that about you, doll. You’re like me – you go get what you want. So if you want Vice, go for it.” 

“Maybe later,” you breathe. “Right now I need a fucking drink.” 

“I wish you didn’t say that last word.” 

You give him a slap on the chest. “Maybe later,” you repeat. “Besides, what are you doing here? I said I needed to pee.” 

“I thought you might want company.” 

“Jesus Christ, Minho, you’re like a cat. Leave me go to the bathroom alone.” 

He moans, pouting slightly. He grabs your head, biting your shoulder. You gasp at the feeling. “I’m starving for you, doll. That body… those moans through your lips.”

His hands slide over your body. 

“I want to fuck you over the bathroom sink.” 

You shudder. You have to admit the noises coming from the next room have turned you on – and you haven’t seen Minho in a while, let alone had any action. Also, the thought of fucking right next door to Changbin excites you even more.

So you open the bathroom door and whisper to Minho to follow you inside. 

“It’s, hm… It’s good to see you.” 

You instantly regret opening your mouth, but it’s too late. Changbin raises his head to look at you from the other side of the table, his spoon hanging above his bowl of cereal. He’s not smiling anymore, but he feels less threatening. Maybe it’s because you’ve spent enough time with him – but you’re still scared. Even with his hair all over the place and his eyes not yet rubbed out of sleep, he looks like he could snap you in half and not blink. He just has that energy about him. 

“Right,” he lets out eventually, but his voice sounds uncertain, like he didn’t know what to say. 

You smile awkwardly at him, taking a bite from your toast. “You must be happy to be home.” 

You have no idea why you’re trying to make conversation with Changbin of all people, but here you are. 

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Much better than jail.” 

You can’t help but chuckle. “I can imagine.” 

“Can you?” 

You stare at him, frozen. He’s said it in such a low voice, almost threatening, and you’re terrified you’ve just said the worst thing possible, because of course you can’t imagine what he’s been through, or what jail is like, so you stammer – and then Changbin winks at you. 

“Just fucking with you,” he states. 

You close your mouth, which had been stupidly opened. You scoff. “Jerk.” 

You’re not looking at him so you can’t be sure, but you’re pretty sure you spy a smirk on his lips – which he hides by taking a spoonful of cereal. 

“I heard you asked about me.” 

You feel your cheeks redden. “Who told you that?” 

“Jisung.” 

“That son of a bitch, I swear…” 

“A part of me was expecting a visit.” 

You eye him, arching an eyebrow. “Woah there. Wouldn’t go that far.” 

“What are you doing tonight?” 

He’s put down his spoon, his elbows on the table, and is looking at you like he’s two seconds away from killing you – but you’re starting to understand that’s just his face. 

“I – nothing. Why?” 

“I have to drive next town over for a spare part for my dad’s bike,” he explains. “You want to come with me?” 

“By drive, you mean…” 

“Have you ever seen me drive a car?” 

You must admit he’s right. 

“Sure,” you answer. “Why not. I close the shop at 6.” 

“I’ll pick you up there.” 

You open your mouth to tell him no, that you’ll meet somewhere else, because you don’t want people to see you, but you stop yourself. It’s useless, anyway. Not only are people going to find out anyway, but everyone already knows. 

Once you’re done with breakfast, you head outside and walk back home. It’s a long way but you don’t mind – the sun warms your face, the breeze airing your neck. You've borrowed – well, stolen, you’ve decided – a t-shirt from Minho, so it doesn’t feel at all like a walk of shame. You’re just going home. 

Home, with your heart strangely full.

When you step out of the shop, later that day, the breeze is gone and it’s just hot. You instantly start to sweat because of the humidity, and you’re grateful to only be wearing shorts and a light t-shirt. You turn to lock the door, making sure everything is secured, and as you do, the roar of an engine fills your ears. 

Strange, how it no longer fills you with spite. 

It almost makes you smile.

It almost soothes you. 

Changbin slows down and stops his bike in front of you and you almost faint at the sight of him. Your throat dries, your legs wobble. 

The arms. 

Because Changbin is only wearing a tank top underneath his cut, his arms are entirely visible to you. Stretched on the handles, you can trace the lines of his muscles, lifelines dug into his skin. They outline the curve of a bicep, the angle of an elbow, and swerve all the way to his hands. You stare at his fingers, gripped around the handles, his usual rings shining in the sun. 

His helmet covers his black hair. He’s wearing sunglasses.

And, for the love of heaven, he’s wearing leather pants. 

Is he trying to drive you mad?

Because it’s working.

“Hi,” you say pathetically. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. 

Is he chewing gum?

How can chewing gum be so attractive?

Is this a trap? 

“Yeah,” you answer, your voice a little high-pitched. 

“Do you have your sunglasses like I told you?”

“Yep.” You take them out of your bag and slip them on.

He tells you to put your stuff in the saddles and you do before you get on the bike. Your legs are shaking and you’re sure you’ll fall on your ass, but you make it there. Behind Changbin. Against him.

“Tell me if you need a break,” he says, and you nod. 

You used to dislike motorcycles for the sake of it, because they were how the Vices drove around, because they reminded you of them. Now, you’re not so sure, because when Changbin says that, you think to yourself, I could stay here all night. You could drive me to the stars and back, and I’d never let go. 

Changbin’s got his spare part, and you’re driving home. The night has fallen, the sky deep black. You’re driving on a scenic road, so there’s not much light except for the occasional streetlight. The asphalt trails alongside the mountains, and it smells like leaves, like wind, like leather. You breathe in tranquility, your cheek against Changbin’s back. Your hands are crossed around him. Sometimes you catch a glimpse of him in one of his rearview mirrors. He looks so peaceful. 

He slows down suddenly and stops at a viewpoint, which is just a patch of unpaved road at a curve. He stops the engine, and you take the cue, getting off the bike. You shiver a little, because it’s colder now that the sun has set, and Changbin lays something heavy on your shoulders. 

His cut. 

You glance up at him in shock, but he doesn’t say anything - so, neither do you. You slide your arms through it. 

You expect disgust, or even just a shudder, but there’s nothing. 

The both of you walk to the rail, staring at the distance. There’s no noise except for the sound of the wind in the trees. 

“Look up,” Changbin says to you, pointing to the sky. 

You do - and as a cloud rolls away from another, you see a patch of pitch black, covered in tiny stars. It’s so beautiful it steals your breath, and you stare in awe. You’re silent for a few minutes. 

“Puts things in perspective, doesn’t it?” he simply states.

You find yourself nodding. “It really does.” 

You turn to him, looking at his profile. He let his bike’s lights open, and they set dancing shadows upon his face. You’re so entranced, you forget to be reasonable, and soon he glances back at you. You don’t look away, though - you really can’t. He’s so different from Minho, and yet so similar. They’re like two sides of the same coin, you think to yourself. The arrogant and the angry. 

The talkative and the silent.

You think about what Minho said. 

We have the same taste in women. 

A spark passes in your eyes. Changbin catches it. 

His hand slides on your cheek. His rings are cold against your skin. You lift your heels to meet him halfway. 

His lips are warm. You shiver against them, his other arm hugging your waist to urge you closer. Your hands grip his shoulders, and you sigh in his mouth as his tongue teases yours. 

He leans you against the rail, but you’re not afraid of falling. 

He’s holding you tight.

Your fingers drift on his arms, on his chest. His trace your ass. Your hips. 

His mouth leaves yours. He breathes heavily. 

You open your eyes to see him, jaw clenched, shaking his head. 

“Is everything okay?” you ask in a small voice.

“Yeah,” he says. “Sorry. Let’s not do this.” 

He steps away, walks back to his bike. He doesn’t look angry, so you don’t ask if it’s your fault. You don’t feel like it is. You hope it isn’t. 

You follow him carefully, taking the helmet you left on the seat to put it back. 

“Now,” he says quietly. 

“Huh?” 

“I mean now. Let’s not do this now.”

You look at him, registering the words. It takes you a second, your heart faltering, before you put a prudent hand on Changbin’s arm.

“It’s okay,” you say softly.

He gives you a surprised look, then softens. After you give him a smile, he nods, and you drive away without another word.

He gets you home, and you thank him for the evening. Before you go, you put a kiss on his cheek. 

It’s an extremely slow day at work, and you’re in no mood to be productive, so you’re on your phone scrolling at memes when Minho enters. You don’t even have time to welcome him, he just strolls to your counter, flashes a smile, and tells you he needs a modest but tasteful bouquet – and he’s in a hurry.

You show him to ones you’ve prepared. He takes the first, hands you a few bills and walks out without another word. You stare at his back, shaking your head. He’s exhausting, and you’re a little pissed he hasn’t asked you how you are, but your stupid face can’t help but smile. 

Later that afternoon, you get a text from Seungmin and raise an eyebrow. 

Mininie 

Are you busy tonight? I need to talk to you

You

?? Sure. You want to get a drink?

Mininie

Rossi’s at 9

You agree to the plans, feeling both confused and anxious. There was no way Seungmin would’ve done that if it wasn’t important. You rack your brain, trying to think about what mess you’ve made recently, but there’s nothing that really stands out. You haven’t talked since the last time – you’ve left him alone like he promised. Should you have reached out? Is he mad you haven’t? 

You groan, exhausted of yourself. 

When you get to Rossi’s, Hyunjin is alone behind the bar. He nods towards a booth to his left, and you spy Seungmin’s brown hair. You approach him slowly, biting your lip. 

“Hey,” you say once you’re standing in front of him.

He glances at you and you can’t read him and it’s making you nervous.

“Hey,” he replies. “Sit down.” 

He waves at Hyunjin, pulling two fingers up. 

“Two pints, Hyun.” 

The latter nods and then gives you a glare – don’t fuck up, he seems to tell you. You want to pull your tongue at him but you feel that might be a little impolite to do in front of Seungmin. 

“Min, listen, I know I should’ve…” 

“Did you tell them something?” he says, cutting you off. 

He doesn’t sound mad, but he doesn’t sound happy either. Your heartbeat accelerates. 

“What? Tell who?” 

“The Vices. Have you talked to them about my mom?” 

You feel the blood drain from your face, and you stammer. “Wha – why are you – did something happen?” 

“They visited her today. At her house.” 

“What?” 

“She called me as soon as she saw the bikes because she was scared,” Seungmin explains. “When I got there she was having tea with Lee Minho, a huge smile across her face.” 

You try your best not to burst out laughing. “Tea?” you repeat.

Seungmin nods. “Tea.” 

You bite your lips really hard, but you can’t hold it back. You can’t. It doesn’t help that even Seungmin seems seconds away from bursting out that loud laugh of his. A snicker escapes your lips, and you close your eyes, inhaling slowly. 

Hyunjin appears right then, setting down two full beers on the table, eyeing you both for a few seconds before he quietly turns around. 

You breathe out.

“She said he came to apologize,” Seungmin says after taking the first sip of his drink. “That he had never wanted to scare her, and they felt terrible about it. That they just wanted her to feel safe and protected – that it was the whole point of them being around.” 

“Oh.” 

“I thought to myself, it could just be a sudden change of heart, but he’d brought a bouquet of flowers with him, for my mom,” Seungmin adds, arching an eyebrow.

“What does that – oh. Oh.”

Seungmin nods. “So you see why I wanted to talk to you.” 

You shake your head. 

“Min, I swear. I never asked them to do that. I’m just as confused as you.” 

It takes you a few seconds to gather your thoughts. You’ve only mentioned Seungmin to a handful of people, because you needed to talk about your falling out. Hyunjin. Jisung, a little. Where did it come from, though? You can’t be sure.  

“I let him sweet talk my mom,” Seungmin says, his voice a little softer. “But I followed him outside and we had a little talk before he left.” 

“Oh?” You ask, trying not to sound too interested – but you are. 

“He’s completely insane, Y/N,” Seungmin sighs, shaking his head. “You can’t trust someone like that.”

“I never said I trusted him,” you mumble, but it’s a weak retort. 

“But he made some good points.” 

You glance at Seungmin, who shrugs. 

“I’m not saying I like him. I definitely don’t. But remember when you said they were not like you imagined? I kind of get that.” 

“You do?” 

Seungmin gives you a pointed look. “I’d never hang out with them like you do, I couldn’t, but talking with him… I see how you and him could hit it off.” 

You don’t know what to say, so you can’t help but be a little arrogant. 

“Aw, Minnie, are you giving me your approval?” 

He glares at you and sighs deeply. “Like I just said. Two reckless shit stirrers.” 

You chuckle and gently nudge his arm. 

“Seriously, Min,” you say. “I’m really sorry. I was an idiot.” 

“You still are,” he points out, and you have to agree.

You raise your pint towards him. “Cheers to that.” 

“I heard when you spent some time with Vice.”

You and Minho are laying on your bed, the sheets tangled around your limbs. He’s beautiful, almost glowing, entirely naked except for the silver chain around his neck. You play with his silver hair, twirling strands around your fingers. 

“Yeah, a little,” you say. 

Minho pushes your hair out of your face, putting his arm behind his head to support it so he can look at you better. 

“Did you make a move? He wouldn’t tell me.” 

You pout. 

“C’mon, now, Trouble. Don’t get shy on me now. Two minutes ago you were riding my dick.”

You roll your eyes. “We kissed. He stopped it.” 

You must be making some sort of face, because Minho lets out a laugh. You hit in on the chest as hard as you can – of course, he barely budges. 

“Don’t fucking laugh at me.” 

“Don’t despair, Trouble. He likes you.” 

“That’s what I thought, too,” you sigh in annoyance. “But he’s been avoiding me since.”

You give him a glare.

“Not unlike someone I know.”  

Minho raises an eyebrow. “Have I been doing that?” 

“Yes. Am I not interesting anymore because you’ve fucked me?” 

“I wouldn’t put it like that…”

“Like what, then?!” 

“Don’t get anxious, doll, there’s still a number of things I plan to do with you. I was just leaving space for Vice.” 

You arch an eyebrow.

“I knew you wanted to try him. And him you.” 

You scoff. “You should tell him that.” 

“I told him to go for it, that he’d have a good time. But when I mentioned fucking you, he said something about you not just being a piece of ass.” 

“He… what?” 

The words surprise you - and yet they don’t. Let’s not do this now, he said. You thought he meant it was the wrong moment, but it might be something else. 

“Don’t get excited, it’s not like he’s secretly romantic and soft hearted,” Minho sighs. “But he is less of a whore than me.” 

You decide to bring up the fact that Minho just called himself a whore later.

“What about the other night? The girl?” 

“Guy spent weeks in jail, you expect him not to want some pussy? He didn’t want it to be you, though. I guess he was too frustrated that night. So you can expect him to take his sweet time with you once his mind is made up.” 

You smack him lightly. “Jesus fucking Christ, you talk like I’m going to let him do anything he wants to me whenever he wants it. I’m not just a fuck toy, you know. What if I’m not in the mood?” 

“Then he’ll wait,” Minho answers, laughing. “But let’s face it, doll. Vice walks into this very room right now with his dick hard and his eyes all over you, would you really say no?” 

You stammer slightly. “If I didn’t want to, yes.”

“But what if you did?” 

“Tssk. Why are you so invested in this?” 

“Because he’s my oldest friend, and you’re my favorite girl.” 

You sigh, shaking your head. Minho sits up, his fingers grabbing your chin gently. His face hovers yours. 

“It’s not like we’re in love, Trouble. I just want us all to have some fun while we’re young. A day without your exquisite body getting venerated is a day wasted.” 

“Tell him that, then,” you blurt out. Quickly, you shake your hands. “I mean fuck, no, don’t tell him that.” 

Minho squeezes your ass in response, a smirk on his lips. “Have I told you I fucking love this look on you? It’s a very “slut just got rammed” look.” 

You bark out a laugh. “Did you just call me a slut?” 

“Apparently.” 

“Careful, I just might start to call you whore.” 

Minho barks out a laugh. “Gladly.”    

Being with Changbin is easy. 

Almost too easy. 

You glance at him from across the convenience store, his brows slightly furrowed as he tries to decide which brand of beer to buy. You see his face reflected in the refrigerator windows, his head tilted. With his back to you, you can take in the sight of his wide shoulders and his cut. 

You’ve been spending more time together - most of the time, he takes you for rides around town, finding excuses to run the engine for a little too long. You’re grateful for it because when your arms aren’t around him, holding tight, the rumble of the motorcycle under you, you almost miss it. 

Eventually he makes his choice and you walk back towards him, holding two bags of potato chips. You surprised him when he came to get you earlier. While you’re wearing one of your usual sundresses, you paired it with a new jacket - a leather one. His crooked smile had been instant - and he gives it to you again as you stop next to him. 

“You sure you don’t want anything else?” he asks.

“Yeah.” 

One of his hands is holding the pack of beer - his other arm he settles on your shoulders, keeping you close. As much as Minho makes you feel like you’re standing on the edge of a precipice, Changbin is already at its bottom with his arms wide open. 

He walks with you to the cashier, telling you about some stupid thing Jisung has done lately, and you listen to him, enthralled with the sight of his smirk, of the rare spark in his eye. You’re so focused on him you don’t notice the guy in front of you, who is standing there, taking up all the space in the aisle so you can’t walk forward. 

Changbin does. He stops, tightens his hold on you. 

“Seo Changbin,” the stranger spits. “Surprised to see you put a toe outside Temperance knowing the price on your head.” 

Changbin arches an eyebrow. “I thought you’d be smarter than to listen to rumors, Santiago.” 

“Not just rumors, man. A lot of people want you dead.” 

“Then they should line up and take their shot.” 

The guy chuckles before giving you a long look. 

“Cute. A shame, really.”  He looks back at Changbin. “It’s nothing personal.” 

Changbin tenses. “Do what you gotta do.” 

You look up at him. The man walks away, drawing his phone to his ear. Changbin puts down the pack of beer.

“Leave it,” he whispers in your ear. “Quickly.” 

You leave the bags and follow him outside. In a matter of seconds, you’re back on his bike and you’re driving away. He’s speeding, you can feel it - his hands are gripped around the handles so hard his joints are white. Your heart is beating fast, and you’re not sure you understand what is happening - just that it’s bad. 

Changbin burns a red light. 

“We need to get back to Temperance ASAP,” he tells you. “No one can touch us there. Don’t be scared. I got you.” 

You swallow and nod although he can’t see you. You grip him tighter. 

You’re close to town when you hear the deafening noises of multiple engines. You look around nervously - and then they appear. A few motorcycles, four of them, approaching you very fast. In the darkness you can’t see too well, but you’re sure they’re wearing cuts too. They are not friendly. 

Changbin accelerates and you watch the movements of the other bikers. They’re fast, and they make a lot of noise. In the rearview mirror, you see one of them take out a gun. 

“Changbin!” you shout. 

He’s already seen it, though, and swerves sharply in a nearby street to avoid the gunfire. It’s like you can’t breathe, as Changbin guides you through narrow streets. The other bikers aren’t far behind, but Changbin is good. He knows the area better, perhaps, because he takes his turns at the very last second - and soon you can only see two bikes behind you. 

Changbin heads for the main road again, and your eyes are full of tears. Temperance is right there, and when you pass the town border, Changbin suddenly breaks. He turns his bike to face your pursuers, lifting his visor to stare at them. 

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he snaps at them. 

The next seconds are tense - they stare at each other, anger emanating from every inch of them. You can only watch and hope for the best. Fortunately, the other bikers relent. They turn and drive away - on their cuts, you can read Skulls. 

Changbin breathes out. “Fucking pest,” he spits. 

“What’s going on, Bin?” you ask. 

“Just people thinking they own everything outside Temperance.”

“That never happened before.” 

“They’re trying to prove themselves,” he sighs.

After a few seconds of silence, Changbin relaxes, rubbing his eyes. 

“C’mon. Let’s get you home.” 

“No,” you say, putting your hand on his arm. “I want to stay with you.” 

You can’t see his face well, but he nods. 

“Okay.” 

He drives away. You expect him to go to the clubhouse or the house the Vices share, but instead he drives a bit further, down a street you don’t know very well. You look around in confusion as he enters a driveway. The house in front of you is small and looks abandoned, like no one has lived in there for years. 

Changbin pulls out his phone and activates something on an app - in front of you, the garage door opens. He parks inside it, closing the door behind you. 

You disembark, taking off the helmet, still a little shaken from the pursuit. 

“Where are we?” you ask.

Changbin leaves his helmet on his bike and you do the same. “I’ll show you.” 

He takes your hand, guides you inside the house. It’s not as decrepit inside as you would’ve imagined it. The house is empty except for a few pieces of furniture here and there. It smells a little stuffy but it’s clean. 

“It was my father’s house,” he explains, putting his hands in his pockets. “It’s mine now. I don’t want to sell it.” 

“Why not?” you ask, taking a few steps in the main room, heading to the kitchen in curiosity. 

“I’ll live here one day. Make it mine, with my old lady.” 

You turn to him and give him a smile. “So you’re the type, huh?” 

He nods, and you find it endearing. You wouldn't've thought it - Changbin always looks so withdrawn. That he eventually wanted to have a family, to raise it in the house where he grew up - it was beautiful. 

“I can see it,” you say with a smile. “A big table. Curtains floating in the summer breeze. Kids running around the yard.” 

“Yeah?” 

You turn to him and smile. “Definitely.” 

You walk closer to him, staring at him. Adrenaline is still pumping in your veins from earlier - it would be lying to say that a part of you didn’t enjoy it. 

The danger. 

The risk. 

Minho would love to see you like this. 

“Are you asking me something?” you tell Changbin in a low voice. Slowly, you sink your hands in his pockets, covering his hands with yours. 

“What if I am?” 

“Fuck, Changbin,” you sigh. “You haven’t even touched me yet.” 

“I don’t need to,” he whispers, leaning his head forward. His lips graze your cheek. Your ear. You breathe heavily. “I already know.” 

“What?” 

“That you’re what I want. What I need.” 

He kisses your skin. Your earlobe. You shudder. 

“I want you to be mine.” 

“Changbin…” you breathe. “You can’t say shit like that.”

“Why not?” 

“Because I’m… What if I’m…” 

You chuckle nervously. You put a hand against his chest, pushing him slightly, raising an eyebrow at him.

“What if I’m terrible in bed?” 

His chuckle is low. “I know you’re not.”

“You can’t know that.” 

“I can. Minho told me.” 

At the sound of his name, you tense slightly. Changbin smiles.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not asking for you to just be mine. I know you by now. We can share. And he’ll never settle down. I will.” 

He kisses your neck. 

“I can make you happy, Y/N. I can make you whole. Please let me.”

All you want is to say yes. All you want is to give yourself to him - but can you? Will you? Giving your entire being to a person? You’re not sure. But you know it’s not really what Changbin is asking. His words and his eyes tell you you’ll always be free. Your heart won’t have to be constrained. It can just breathe - it can love as fully and widely as it wants. 

“Don’t answer now,” he breathes. “Just wanted to be clear with you. About what I want. What I see. I’ll take you as you are if you’ll have me.” 

“So politely asked,” you chuckle, your hands traveling up his arms. 

He laughs against your skin, then steps back to look at you tenderly. “Can I kiss you?” 

You snort, shaking your head. “Dude, you basically just asked me to raise a family with you. And now you ask permission to kiss me? You’re so weird.” 

He just shrugs, and you giggle. 

“Yes, you lunatic, you can kiss me.” 

His lips come in contact with you, sucking them around his, tasting every inch. He kisses you so well you forget everything but the fire inside you, and you wrap yourself around his body to deepen the kiss. He nibbles on your lip, rolls his tongue around yours. 

“Fuck, you’re such a good kisser,” you breathe, and he smiles. 

You desperately need him to touch you. 

“Changbin…” 

“Hm?” 

“Can I take your hand?” 

“Hm.” 

You gently align his fingers with yours, and you guide his hand in between your legs. You bring up your dress, and slide his fingers against you. You gasp at the contact, and he groans, curling his fingers. 

“Can you feel it? How wet I am for you?” 

He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes are closed, his mouth open. You hear his heavy breathing, you feel his tense muscles. 

“There’s just something about you, Changbin,” you whisper, slowly moving his hand. “Don’t you know the effect you have on me?” 

He opens his eyes, then, and they are so dark, you can only plunge head first in them. “I don’t think you have any idea of the effect you have on me.” 

You can only stare – because he’s moving his fingers on his own, in all the most delicious ways, and your legs start to feel weak. 

“Minho got to you first because he’s a sweet talker and I’m not,” Changbin hisses. “But the moment I heard you in the flower shop, I knew I wanted you.” 

He pushes a finger inside of you, and you gasp in the darkness of the empty house. 

“You know me and Minho had a few drinks, that night? And you know what we said?”

You shake your head. 

“How delightful it must be to get you to moan our names.” 

“Tsk. I don’t believe you,” you taunt him.

He smirks. “It’s true though. The fire inside you…” He inserts another finger, and you grip his shoulders. “Made me want to be consumed by it.” 

You sigh as he accelerates his movements, letting out a whimper. He bites your earlobe, sucks it in his mouth.

“I wanted to wait a little,” he breathes. “Get to know you, see what kind of person you were. That just makes it all better, I think. When you know the person – when you finally understand what makes them tick.” 

You wish you could hold up your end of the conversation, but you’re lost in the haze. You clench around him, ready to come. 

“Minho had his turn. It’s mine, now, right?” 

“Yes,” you breathe.

“Tell me.” 

“It’s yours, Changbin. I’m yours.” 

He suddenly removes his fingers and you groan in frustration. He ignores your complaint, lifting you up and pushing you against the nearest wall. He devours your lips again, his hardness pushing against your legs. You moan against his mouth, your body shaking under his touch. 

“Fuck,” he groans. “I need to feel you around me.” 

“Please, Changbin,” you sigh. “Please fuck me.” 

“I’ve made you wait, haven’t I, beautiful?”

“Too fucking long,” you groan. 

He smiles. “I have an idea.”

Almost too easily, as if you weighed less than a feather, he wraps you around him, your legs secured around his waist, and starts to walk back to the garage. 

“Where are -”

“Just wait.” 

Once in the garage, he walks over to his bike, and you stare at him with wide eyes. Oh. He chuckles at the look you give him. 

“What is it? You don’t like the idea?” 

Gently, he sits you on the leather seat of his bike, and you kiss him hard. 

“I think I like it a little too much,” you breathe.

He takes off your panties and unclasps his belt. As he takes off his pants, you sprawl yourself more comfortably on the bike, opening your legs wider for him. He gives you a dark look.

“A fucking sight,” he lets out.

You chuckle and you help him with his buttons, reaching in his boxers to stroke him – he groans, immediately grabbing your wrists to put them on each side of your body, pinning you in place.

Well that reminds you of someone.  

He takes another step forward, his length pressed against you, and the pressure makes you shiver. You’re dizzy from desire, and you barely register as he guides your hands. He puts one around one of the handles of the bike, the other around the edge of the seat. He hovers over you, grinning. 

“Hold on tight.” 

He enters you slowly, and you roll your eyes back at the feel of him. He pushes all the way into you, and stays there to take a long breath. He’s taking all the space, and it feels almost too natural, like he belongs there, and you wish you had the words to tell him. 

“You’re so warm, fuck,” Changbin sighs, and you feel your breath against your hair. 

“God, Changbin,” you breathe. “Fuck me.” 

So he does. His thrusts are measured, not too fast, but each is enough to bring out a moan from between your lips. You hang on to the bike, who trembles at every move – but the sight of Changbin fucking you on his bike is too much for you to really worry about it. He looks like a storm, his sweet lips parted, his muscles contracted. He’s big and strong against you, and you pull him closer. 

Your breath accelerates as the same time he does, pounding into you, and you’re clenching around him, feeling your orgasm all the way to your toes. Your nails sink into the leather of the seat. 

“Oh, fuck, that feels good. You feel so good coming around my dick.” 

“Holy shit, Bin…” you whisper, feeling your body relax. 

But Changbin shakes his head, placing his fingers on you, circling your sensitivity, making you tremble.

“I want to make you come again,” he whispers. 

“I don’t… I…” 

“Don’t slip away from me. Stay right there. I’m so close.” 

He never stops fucking you, and your mind is in a daze – his fingers are grasping at the last remnants of your orgasm, assembling them into a new knot ready to unfold. You almost whimper against him, feeling your skin in flames.  

You open your eyes to look at him – like you, he’s sweating, his hair wet, and the sight is enough to send you on the edge. He grunts, holding you tight, and he comes inside of you. You follow him, gasping, your legs shaking. 

It takes a while for you to recover – you’re not sure if it’s minutes or seconds. Changbin is panting, his forehead against yours, and you never want to move. 

You want to cover him in kisses. You give him just a few, but it feels like enough. 

“So?” you ask, mischievous. “What is worth the wait?” 

“Every second,” he sighs. “Fucking the woman of my dreams.” 

You shake your head, biting your lip, smiling. “Well, I will say this,” you say, your voice hoarse. “It’s my first time fucking on a motorcycle.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Changbin says with a smirk. “Did you like it?”

“Fuck yes.”

“Then let’s do it again. I need that pussy to drip on that leather so much it’ll leave a stain.” 

You bite your lip. “That was filthy, Changbin.” 

“I’m not sorry for it.” 

You grab his face by the chin and kiss him. “You better not be.”

The next night, you go over to the Vices’ clubhouse for a party, and there’s a cake waiting for you. It reads “congrats! you finally fucked” – and Minho howls in laughter when he sees the look on your face. 

“Really?” you sigh.

“I’m just proud of you,” he says, stroking your hair. 

You look for Changbin, and easily find him – he’s smirking not far behind. It’s not that you didn’t believe Minho when he said he wouldn’t mind you fucking his Vice, but it’s a relief to see it’s actually true. The two even seem closer than before, playing a friendly game of Texas Hold’em together, testing each other’s poker faces. 

You find yourself talking to Chan’s old lady a lot, and she tells you a few stories about the club, about her first months around them, and you’re laughing so hard there are tears in your eyes. She’s hilarious - and you catch glimpses of Chan looking at her adoringly. 

After a quick run to the bathroom, you want to take some air - you go through the garage, which is the quickest way from there, and you open the door of the office on Felix making out with Cherry. 

“Oops. Fuck. Sorry.” 

You peck your lips, trying really hard not to laugh.

“No worries,” Felix smiles brightly before he cups Cherry’s cheek again, sinking into her arms, kissing her deep. 

You stay for a second too long because Felix looks like an amazing kisser but you eventually close the door, giggling hysterically. 

“So that’s where he is, the little fucker.” 

You turn around, jumping at the voice behind you - to your surprise, it’s Hyunjin. He’s tied his hair back and is wearing a leather jacket. How on theme. 

“Told me he’d meet me outside. Guess he forgot.” 

You gape at him. “What the fuck are you doing here?” 

“Felix invited me. Said you were having a party. I brought a guest, too.” 

You glance behind his shoulder, expecting his girlfriend, but it’s Seungmin you find standing there. He looks a little embarrassed to be there, staying back, as if afraid to come closer. 

“Min,” you mutter, advancing towards him. 

“I know what I said.” He raises his hands. “I just, I was alone, and I wanted to check up on you, and…” 

He stops talking when you collapse in his arms. It feels so good to have your friend here. All your people here. Your heart could burst with happiness - and it has nothing to do with the few drinks you’ve had. 

“I still don’t like them,” Seungmin mumbles into your hair. “But I heard the parties were pretty cool.” 

“Let’s get you a drink, then,” you say, clenching his hand. 

Hyunjin smiles fondly at both of you. 

“Adorable. Can I get a fucking drink for once?” 

You grab Hyunjin’s hand as well, smiling widely, and lead them inside. Everyone is happy to see them - Minho welcomes Seungmin with a smile, and Changbin goes behind the bar to prepare shots for you three. You take them a little too quickly, laughing. Seungmin takes some time to unwind, but you let him - you understand his reservations more than most. You’re just happy he’s there. 

You know he’s being your friend.

And you want to be his. 

You play darts together as Hyunjin, Changbin, and a few others take over the pool table. Felix and Cherry are nowhere to be seen - Minho starts a game of Mario Party with Jisung, who is just sitting there with the controller in his hands, not even playing. From the vacant look in his eyes, he’s stoned out of his mind. The atmosphere is relaxed, the music not too loud. 

That’s when you hear the police sirens. 

At first, they sound faint, buried under the sound of music and conversation - but soon the blue and red lights shine through the windows and no one can ignore them. You see Changbin tense, but Minho stays calm, sitting on a couch, legs sprawled. Changbin walks over to them, utters a few words in his ear, and they both nod. You catch Minho’s eyes - he winks at you. 

You grab Seungmin’s hand. 

“What’s going on?” he asks you in your ear.

“I don’t know,” you reply nervously.

A few police officers enter the clubhouse, led by their sheriff. Jeongin is among them, but he’s not smiling as he usually is. Instead, he looks around like he’s going to spit on the floor in disgust. His colleagues are the same. 

Changbin waves towards the bar, and the music gets cut off. 

The silence is deafening. 

“Having a little party, are you?” the sheriff says, looking at Minho, who still hasn’t moved. “Celebrating something?” 

Minho smirks. “The pleasures of the flesh,” he replies smugly. “I’d offer you cake, but there isn’t any left.” 

“How about a drink, then?” 

It’s like time is slowed for a few seconds, as the sheriff and Minho stare at each other - you look at Jeongin questioningly, and he winks at you. Oh. 

“Prospect,” Minho says. You notice Felix has just arrived in the room, his hair dischevelved, his lips swollen. 

“Yes, boss?” 

Cherry is hiding behind him, giggling silently. 

“Get a drink for the sheriff and his friends, will you? The good stuff.” 

“Right away, boss.” 

It’s then that the sheriff breaks into a wide grin, walking to Minho to shake his hand. The music starts again, and the other police officers disperse around the room, their serious looks completely gone. 

“What was that all about?” Seungmin breathes, shaking his head. 

“Must be some inside joke,” you reply nervously - it has unsettled you, too. 

“Holy shit, is that Kim Seungmin I see?” 

Jeongin barks out a delighted laugh as he walks towards both of you, pulling Seungmin into a hug. He ruffles his hair, Seungmin sighing deeply. 

“Turned to the dark side, have you?” 

“No,” Seungmin retorts, pushing Jeongin away. “Just… playing darts.” 

“Don’t tease him, Jeongin, will you?” you tell the officer with a glare. 

Jeongin raises his hands. “Cross my heart, hope to die.” 

“Tssk. The last time I heard you say that was at the town barbecue after you promised not to flirt with my cousin and you ended up flirting with my mother,” Seungmin says darkly. 

“Well she wasn’t your cousin, was she?” 

Still, Seungmin looks like he has relaxed again, and the boys start to move towards the bar - but you feel a hand on your waist, sliding from your back to your stomach. Minho spins you around this way, his eyes digging into yours. 

“Missing some Trouble,” he breathes against your lips. He smells like vodka and gasoline, and it’s intoxicating. 

“Don’t you have enough of that?” you ask, raising an eyebrow at the sheriff, who is currently doing shots with the club’s secretary, whom you’ve found out is Chan’s uncle, one of only ones from the old generation who is still alive. 

“They always do that,” Minho chuckles. “Their little show. Try to act like they’ve still got any kind of authority around here.”

“Hm. But you’re it, aren’t you?” 

“You know it, Trouble,” he growls, embracing you in a deep kiss.

It feels a little embarrassing to do so in the middle of the room where there are so many people you know - Hyunjin, Seungmin, even Changbin who days ago was fucking you on his bike - but you don’t push him away. It’s not like they don’t know. Everyone is too busy drinking and partying to care, anyway. 

So you kiss him back, hungrily, and he squeezes your ass. You slap his chest in response. 

“You know what your nickname should be?” you squint your eyes at him. “Greedy.” 

“Greedy and Trouble. We make a good pair.” 

You chuckle. Something flashes in Minho’s eyes, and he grins. 

“Sparkle some Vice in there and you’ve got one hell of a party.” 

You stare back at him, eyes wide. “You mean…” 

“Wouldn’t you love it, Trouble?” he mutters, his soft lips grazing your jaw, your neck. You shiver against him.

“The two of us, just for you. Two mouths to kiss you. Two tongues to lick you up and down,” he continues, kissing your neck. You close your eyes, not even caring about how exposed you are. “Four hands to worship all parts of you.” 

He comes back up to kiss your cheek, his lips then grazing your ear. 

“Two hard dicks to fuck you until you can’t breathe.” 

You gulp, indulging in the fantasy - the tension between your legs is almost unbearable, and you have to breathe out slowly to calm yourself. 

“That sounds a little overwhelming,” you say, opening your eyes to look at him. 

Of course, he looks particularly happy with himself. “Oh, don’t worry. We can go slow. Ease you into it. But I think you’d like it. Have you ever done it?” 

“A threesome?” you ask. When he nods, you shake your head. “No.” 

Minho smiles. “Then think about it.” 

He laughs. 

“Although I think I already have my answer. You’re soaked, aren’t you? I can smell it on you.” 

You slap his chest again, and he keeps laughing, but he’s not mocking you. 

“Wait for me in my office,” he says. 

You nod as he walks away. You head for the bar, and get yourself a shot. Minho is talking to Changbin, who glances at you. Is this happening tonight? Oh God. You’re not prepared for this. Still, you can’t stop it. You won’t. 

You are shuddering in advance. 

You look for Seungmin, because you don’t want to just disappear on him, but he’s in a deep conversation with Jeongin. His smile is calm and sincere, and he looks happy, so you’re not too worried. You head for Minho’s office, closing the door behind you. The sound coming from the main room is faint, and the sudden calm acts like a cold shower. 

What the fuck are you doing? 

You really should stop. It’s getting out of hand - but you can’t bring yourself to. You know the second Minho will walk in, you won’t be able to say no. He has a hold on you - a delightful, heavenly hold. And Changbin. Changbin, you feel, has become a part of you, settled into your heart without difficulty. It’s just easy with him. You know you can’t have them both. Not for more than a few hours. 

You still want to. Your heart is in their hands. 

You’ll have to let them go at some point.

Both of them. 

You’ll have to see them with other partners. You’re not jealous. 

But you’re a little possessive. 

You’ll have to keep living your life. How, you’re not sure. You feel yourself bound to the club now. Too many ways in.

No way out. 

Lost in your thoughts, you jump when the door opens. Only Minho walks in, though, and he doesn’t leave you any time to say something - he just grabs your face in his hands and pulls you into a kiss. You moan against his mouth, pushed against the desk, burying your hands in his hair. 

“Such good memories from this room,” he chuckles after kissing you for so long your lips feel raw. He bites your lower lip, inciting a little whimper from you. “I can barely get any work done here anymore, I just keep thinking about it and get hard.” 

You laugh, maybe a little too enthusiastically. “Really?” 

“That makes you happy, doesn’t it?” he chuckles. 

“Well. I’ve dreamed about ruining your life for some time now,” you admit cheekily. 

He slaps your ass. “My little Trouble. Except it hasn’t exactly gone as planned, right?”

“Hm. You don’t know that,” you admit, kissing his cheek, his jaw, the corners of his lips. 

“You’re telling me it’s all part of your evil plan to fuck not only one, but two Vices?” 

“Going down the hierarchy,” you say. “I’m gonna burn it all down.” 

Minho laughs and kisses you again. 

“Let’s fuck some sense into you,” Minho breathes. “After tonight you won’t want to leave.” 

“I already don’t,” you sigh before you can think about what you’re saying. Minho stops for a fraction of a second, but soon kisses you again, even more feverishly. You swirl your tongue around his, grinding your hips against his. 

He kisses you slowly and deeply, and you’re so lost in the moment you don’t hear the office door opening and closing. You faintly hear the sound of a lock, and suddenly there’s another pair of hands on you, fingers pushing away your hair, lips kissing your neck. 

“Sorry, Vice,” Minho says. “We got started without you.”

“That’s fine,” Changbin breathes. 

You’re pressed between both, feeling your thoughts already wander off. Your throat is dry, your chest in a tight knot. You turn to Changbin, because you need to see him. He’s looking at you, softly, hungrily. 

“Hi,” he mutters. “I didn’t have a chance to tell you. You look beautiful tonight.” 

It’s a bit hard to focus because Minho is pressed against you, his lips not leaving your skin. 

“Changbin,” you breathe, sliding a hand on the back of his neck. “Are you really okay with this?” 

“Are you?” he asks. 

You nod, although a little timidly. 

“Then yes,” he says, leaning towards you. 

He steals your lips. Minho caresses you, grabbing your breasts to massage them, and you moan in Changbin’s mouth. Then it’s Minho you’re kissing, Changbin breathing hard on your skin. It feels like a dance, and you are swept away, letting your body relax. You can trust them. 

You’ve only been kissing for less than a minute when someone knocks on the door. You all tense, like you’re kids getting caught, and Minho leaves you in Changbin’s arms to answer the door. He envelops you, devouring your lips, and you desperately want to rip off his clothes to see him better. 

You faintly hear Chan’s voice on the other side of the door, catching a few words - Felix, fire, the sheriff - and when the door closes, you know it’s over. 

“Sorry, Trouble,” Minho says. He looks good with his hair ruffled by you, his lips bright red. “Felix has apparently set fire to a car outside, so I need to take care of that before he gets arrested. Vice, I need you to talk to the sheriff, he’ll only listen to you.” 

Changbin lets out an annoyed sigh. “That fucking kid, I swear…” 

Minho gives you a smile. “Don’t worry, doll. Minor setback. We’ll have to do this another time.” 

“That’s okay.” 

He kisses your cheek, and Changbin your forehead. They leave the room, and you’re left there, frustrated but slightly amused.

Hello! Thank you sooo much for reading. I hope you enjoyed the second part of this story. Let me know what you thought with a comment if you can, it's motivation fuel, and who knows, it might help me post the rest faster. Lots of love xx

[aritamargarita]

ATTITUDE || 020

it finally worked OMG. 1, 2, is this on….

also, i cant believe attitude won over golden i was like “:O” but i can kinda see that now lmao

there is kinda a lot going on here but when isn't this series chaotic? hope you guys like it anyway. shout out to mickie dressing up as trish stratus. thank you for your service mickie stratus....again this is pretty shorter than i wanted it to be and i apologize LMAO

YOU JUST WANT to cry. Cry as hard as you can. Tonight, you lost. And there's nothing you can do to change it. You could have a rematch many weeks from now, but nothing changes the fact you lost at Vengeance.

“Jeff Hardy will pay for his transgressions.” Raven says, bandaging up his wrists. “I will see to it that he will never try and fight with me again.”

He only came around after your “temper-tantrum” was over. You’re not sure if that was a good thing or not.

There are still a few chairs isolated around the room (since..you pretty much threw them in anger), shelves knocked over, and here you were, sitting on the ground. In the process, you had even accidentally hurt yourself.

There’s a lot to take in. For a second, you consider telling Dr. Smiley about this. 

Raven ordered you to clean yourself up a bit, noticing that you had a mix of dried blood and fresh blood on your hands and arm.

So you are. You’re scrubbing away with moist towelettes. 

“A mere Hardy boy thinks he can get the best of me. Crazy.” He complains. “However, everything isn’t a total loss. The blood I shed today can only make us closer, [Name].”

As strange as it sounds, you’d like to think he’s right. From your blood and his own, despite scrubbing it off, perhaps this just means you two will grow a stronger bond.

There’s nothing for you to say, really. You didn’t want to upset him if you told him you were mad at him. But he wasn’t alone, you were also angry at Jeff.

And you didn’t even want to ask what he thought of the match itself..

The both of them ruined it anyways. At this point, you’re sure Torrie’s got the air rushing to her head and she thinks that maybe, just maybe, she can beat you all the time.

This was just a nightmare.

The door to the locker room opens to reveal none other than the Women’s Champion with a smile on her face…before it falls into a nasty glare. “Um, excuse me, this is the women’s locker room.” She says, attempting to stare Raven dead in the eye. 

“I know.” He doesn’t even spare her a glance, instead opting to finish up his bandaging.

“Then get out.” Trish orders. “You’re not supposed to be in here.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t want to. I’m having a conversation. If you don’t like it, then you can go away.”

She looks offended. When the champion gives someone an order, they’re expected to follow! “Not gonna happen. Again, women’s locker room? If you don’t get out, I’m gonna call someone and they’ll throw you out. So you better go..”

You look at Raven and he looks at you. There's a look in your eye that's signaling for him to just leave it be. Thankfully, he simply groans and walks past Trish begrudgingly to the exit.

"Good riddance," She mumbles, slamming the door behind him. When she turns back to look at you, she feels like she's right back to square one. “You’re uh…you were really loud earlier. Are you okay?”

Her voice rung through your ears like bells. She sounds very nervous. She can clearly see the chairs lying around. Victims, all of them..

She too had meant to come earlier, but after hearing how angry you were, decided against it.

You rub your hands over your face. By loud, she must’ve meant that you’ve been screaming in anger for the past hour. You’re pissed and rightfully so.

“Do I look okay?!” You exasperatedly say, jumping up from your spot. It startles her. “Do you think I look okay right now???”

“Well, I mean, you look very pretty…?” Trish says, but for some reason it sounds more like a question than a statement.

You just look up at her to stare. You don’t know whether you want to slap her or come over and just hug her and cry.

“See, I just wanted to say that I saw your match, err…half of the locker room saw it, actually. I’m sorry that happened.” She admits, throwing her title over her shoulder. Trish doesn’t know what else to offer you other than her condolences.

Sorry didn’t change anything. Sorry didn’t change the fact you lost. Sorry didn’t change the fact you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of Raven.

With her successful title offense and your unsuccessful match, she starts to feel horrible. She hides it behind her back, hoping that you’d see her as any other competitor.

“Yet again, another man ruins it for us women.” She rolls her eyes. “Ugh. I can’t stand them sometimes. And I don’t know what you’ve got going on with Raven, but he just gives me bad vibes.”

You just stare at Trish in silence, so she decided to continue her tangent.

Trish comes a little closer, seeing that you have not reached for any projectiles. The sight of your face makes her frown, you really look worn down…

She’s not entirely sure how to comfort you with all those words, but she reaches a hand out to set a hand on your shoulder.

It's when you start to spill out everything that’s on your mind. Before you know it, tears start to stream down your cheeks.

“I don’t know what to do! I lost! This is humiliating! I lost to someone who can’t even tell the difference between a arm lock and a wrist lock!”

….......

Trish pauses for a second. Of course she’s not gonna tell you she had trouble with identifying them at first. “Hey, hey, it’s okay! There's always next time.."

“It’s just not enough! Raven’s gonna be so embarrassed, he’s never gonna come out with me again and—“

“Who cares about Raven?” Trish interrupts you. “Listen, you two may be a thing or whatever, but you definitely don’t need his approval.”

You didn’t need Raven’s approval? That’s wrong. Of course you did. After all, he’s saved you. Saved you from yourself and started a slow journey to help you figure out who you truly are.

This really was you. And you needed to welcome it in with open arms.

“And on top of that,” She continues. “You don’t need any man’s approval! Take it from me, the old mistress of Mr. McMahon..”

“What?! Ew!” You exclaim. Thinking that it was a bit rude, you cover your mouth. “Oops, I’m sorry..”

“No, ew is right. Now that I think about it, I don’t even know why I did that..” Trish sighs. “Maybe it was for more opportunities. Maybe it was so T&A could have an advantage. Either way, nothing good came out of it. I was humiliated on television. But hey, look where I am now?”

She then shows you her title with a smile. “On top of the world!“

You smile at her, but there’s a twinge of bitterness among your expression. Trish seems to falter. That isn’t what she meant to do.

“T&A?” You repeat, doing your best to ignore the title. “What’s that?”

“I used to be a valet. T&A was a tag team. Test and Albert, if you’ve seen them around.” She says. “It’s over now, but wow. Anyway, it's probably best if we talk about you instead."

You wipe your eye. "Me?"

"Yeah." She nods. "Obviously, you need to get your head back in the game..to get people's mind off of your loss, why not try and make a statement?"

Trish doesn't exactly understand what she's just done. It dawns on you that your Hardy boy slash Lita plan has yet to be in action. If she says to make a statement, then that's exactly what you'll do.

"You're you. So show everybody else who exactly you are!" She says, poking you a bit too harshly on the chest.

You know exactly how you’d do it.

“Thanks, Trish. I know exactly what'll do.” You say, giving her a grin. She's stroked the fire that should've been put out weeks ago. “I need to get changed.”

“Hold on—...” Trish wasn’t exactly done talking to you yet, but you’re already heading out the door. Maybe you've gotten the correct message...

BACKSTAGE // 7:51 PM

The makeup artist, Jan, helped you out with adjusting your makeup and your new hair.

“Thanks, Jan.” You wave, hopping out of the chair. You better hurry, you were sure the match between Jeff and Matt already started.

You look at yourself in the mirror. It’s you, but you’re copying Lita. You’ve never really tried to do it before, preferably doing your own thing. You loved her style, yet you never thought you would see yourself mimicking her.

You don’t want anyone to see you, it’d ruin the surprise and you’d rather not deal with the awkwardness that comes along with it.

Lita, Lita, Lita….she’s made such a big mistake. She’s supposed to be your friend, but she turns around and talks about you behind your back? She’s just like Torrie. No, she's like everyone else.

And you really liked Lita too. It’s a shame you had to do this and it’s an even bigger shame to have to beat her up after Vengeance. She can’t win against you. You’re sure this’ll be your second time winning against her.

Lita just can’t compare. She can do as many hurricanrana’s and moonsaults as she pleases! She’s just not you. She will never be you.

Gosh, you should’ve known she would do that. Lita reassured you that she’d never hurt you, but here Debra was, telling you what she “said” verbatim. She must have been jealous, yes, that was it. Jealousy for sure.

Or, so you think. You still haven’t figured out that she was fabricating most of it. More than likely you won’t realize until it’s too late.

Seeing your own reflection makes you laugh. It makes you laugh so hard that you couldn’t even breathe for a second. It comes to a halt when you realize you’re wasting time. You have to get out there.

You’re trying to brush on some eyeshadow when you’re startled by a loud voice..

“Lita! You’ve got some guts showin’ up around here..”

Great. This is just the person you want to see. He’s going to regret this. So are you. You slowly turn around, shaking your head. “No, I’m not Lita, I’m—“

“Debra?!?!! Where's my pacemaker!?” Austin yelled out, clutching his chest. The outfit you were in was absolutely horrific to see.

You want to laugh so bad, but you know he’s THIS close to killing you. This just solidifies it. Austin just knew he couldn’t let you out of his sight for one second. Debra told him to let you do your thing, now look where that got you.

Now you look just like Lita, the woman who had no idea what belts were, the woman who you’d be going up against after Vengeance.

First, it was that damn Raven, now it's this? He has a lot to talk with you about.

You can hear Debra loudly suck her teeth from the other room. “Gosh, what is it now, Steve?!” She seems aggravated, but the moment she steps outside and sees you was when it disappears. “…Oh my.”

Austin takes one look at you, then covers his head and shakes it in shame. Pain. Pain is all he feels right now. “What in the hell are you wearing?” He finally asks.

“I just….uh.” You’re not sure what to say. How could you explain yourself? “There’s Lita and...I wanted to do a thing, you see.”

“A thing?” Debra quirks an eyebrow at you. Hopefully she’s not angry or anything. You're not sure whether to be more afraid of Austin or HER!

“You know what? I’m just gonna run away now.” This is exactly what you wanted to avoid right now. Before they can say anything else to you, you book it down the hall back to gorilla.

You can hear both of them calling your name, but you don’t even look back.

VENGEANCE // 8:03 PM

“One, two—!!“

As Lita’s in the middle of counting the pin,  you happily skip down the ramp, waving to the fans as you go. Lita turns over towards the front where you were, a look of confusion on her face. 

What were you doing? 

Lita completely disregards Matt’s pin attempt, heading over to the ring ropes. She leans forward on them, trying to yell your name. “Hey! [Name]! What’re you doing??” You look just like her, which is strange because you looked completely normal earlier.

'Look at this! I told you she's got a couple of screws loose!' Jerry exclaimed. 'Talk about double trouble.'

'I almost can't tell who's who..' JR remarked. There was a bit of sarcasm behind his voice.

You don’t reply to her, instead looking up at her with a smile. You even mock her little Hardy hand sign. Then, you just start to skip around the ring. 

Lita’s eyes don’t stop following you. She doesn’t even care about the match right now. Why are you dressed up like that?!

Jeff and Matt hadn’t even noticed you, nor did they notice Lita’s attention being pulled away. “Hey!!” She tries once again to get your attention. “[Name]! What the hell?!”

Finally, you give her your undivided attention. You jump onto the ring apron with a smile. Lita’s finally able to come towards you.

You can hear her complaints a little better now, but who cares? You want to express how much you hate her. You feel like you’ve made a lot of bad decisions and you feel as if there will be more to come in the future.

For some reason, this is the only way you could convey how much you hate her right now.

You bring her in for a kiss. It ended as quick as it started, and it definitely looked more like a hug than anything. The moment Lita tries to swipe at you, it was already over.

The crowd makes a “whoaaa!” sound, which means you’ve got them right where you want them. But most importantly, you think you’ve got Team Xtreme’s main girl right where you want her.

Lita looks like she’s seen a ghost. Though even as she pales, she starts to turn red. She wasn’t expecting that at all.

…That….actually really hurt. You did it so haphazardly that Lita has to swipe a finger against her lip just to check if she was bleeding.

And nope, as your research has concluded, talent wasn’t transmitted that way either. You make a note to let Torrie know.

Lita's not sure whether to have hated that exchange or have enjoyed it. She's never really thought about you doing something like that, let along anything romantic despite you two being pretty good friends.

She feels like if she truly did like this, then she'd be betraying Jeff. But that kiss made her feel weird. It's something she hasn't felt in quite a while. Matt couldn't even make her feel that way.

There's something different about your lips being on her own. And even in that serious moment, she finds herself wanting it to happen again.

It's wrong, but she has to admit it, she doesn't want to be right at all. She’s too caught up in the moment. Before she knew it, you quickly enter the ring and tackle her.

If you’re supposed to be “Lita”, then you’ll be Lita. You take her referee shirt off, leaving her in the pink fishnet top she wore under it.

The crowd cheers, of course. For a moment you consider taking off your own shirt but decide against it, sliding it up and over your head. You’re the referee now.

It's a strangely cut shirt and it's especially uncomfortable with the shirt you have under, but you don't really care.

Every single person in the arena is confused. From the crowd, to the commentators, to the three that were in the ring with you.

Just what's going on through your head? You spin around in a circle. This moment just has the euphoria coursing through your veins, yet you're not sure why.

You feel like you can truly be yourself.

You weren't a sweet Nitro girl anymore. You're someone who's finding their own way in this world. If anyone wants to get out alive, they'd better move out of the way. It's every man and woman for themselves.

Trish was right. You don't need Raven's approval. You loved him dearly, yes, but just doing things by yourself felt much more natural.

It’s Matt’s turn to come over to you, and he's pissed. Not only had you kissed Lita, but you're interfering in his match. He genuinely thinks that this was an attempt to make him lose. He can't let that happen.

Yet again, you’re here to possibly ruin someones career.

He’s screaming some nonsense at you and all you’re doing is twirling your hair. "Hey!" Matt (halfway) snaps you out of your trance. "What's your deal?!"

“Don’t you think I’m pretty?!” You suddenly ask. “Look, you see I’m Lita! Tell me I’m pretty! Or....maybe you wanna kiss me too?”

Matt stops his yelling to look at you in confusion. Nothing but word vomit seems to be coming out of your mouth. You pucker your lips in anticipation, but Matt just shakes his head at you.

The match is starting to derail and it gets worse when Jeff slowly starts to get up and look over at the commotion.

“What’s going on—?” He too, gets struck by the arrow of confusion. You think it’s a good look for him, although he tends to look confused 50% of the time.

Still, no one even had a clue what they should do. Technically, were you the referee now? Both brothers didn't know if they should still follow Lita's orders or follow yours.

In a stunning turn of events, Jeff shoves Matt out of the way, coming towards you. "[Name], are you alright?! Why’re you dressed like that?”

To everyone, this was well deserved. Especially since he came out and ruined your own match. Fortunately for him, you truly had other things in mind.

"You ruined my match!“ You cry out, throwing your fists to hit him in the chest. “Everything is your fault! If you didn't attack Raven, I would’ve won! I hate you!”

You’re starting to actually hurt him, so he has to grab your arms to stop your flailing. “You don’t mean that—hey! Listen to me! Go backstage!” You're obviously not in the right state of mind. He can't have you out here.

The match can still be saved, he thinks. There's still time. If he can get your attention off and somehow get you backstage, everything can continue like nothing happened!

And later, he can finally talk to you about what he did. If you wanted answers, that’s what he’ll give you. Just not now.

“I don’t care! I’m not leaving!” You refuse. He’s slowly starting to get a bit irritated. This isn't a good time and he can tell something's not right in your head at the moment.

He’s going to say something else, but Matt comes over and shoves him away. He’s not happy about Jeff pushing him earlier.

They get into an argument, and Lita takes this opportunity to confront you about your behavior. “What was that?! Give me my shirt!"

And no one could call off the match. Well, Lita technically could, but almost all rules have been thrown out the window thanks to your appearance.

You don't say anything, so she pushes you. Something inside of you just snapped as soon as you were pushed, so you tackle her once again and start to hit her.

Now everyone's arguing. But the boys have to put a pause on their own dispute to handle you and Lita's altercation. Jeff has to yank you off of the poor woman, hooking his arms under your own so you can't move them.

Matt’s busy helping Lita up, doing the best to stabilize her.

"Cut it out!" He yells. The crowd can only be happy that they’ve got a taste of what’s to come after Vengeance.

You think you’ve done enough damage. “You want your shirt? Here!” You take it off and throw it in her direction. “You can have it! I’m out of here.”

Jeff is taken aback by your sudden mood shift. You were just aggressive but now you’re backing off? That gut feeling he has is gnawing at him. Something’s just not right.

He lets you go and you roll out of the ring, heading right up towards the ramp. You don’t even look back.

Trish Stratus said to make a statement, so you did. You don’t think anyone would forget this bizarre match.

That’s the way it should be.

BACKSTAGE // 9:45 PM

You seriously have to breathe. It’s starting to be difficult to even try.

Torrie’s win really has gotten under your skin. It shouldn’t have, but somehow it wormed its way under.

To add onto that, that short adrenaline burst from earlier’s interference had been still lingering. Even as you pick up your cup of water, your hand is still shaking.

All that’s left for the night was the Undisputed Championship match. All the matches have come and gone. All that’s left was Chris Jericho and Stone Cold Steve Austin.

The match was definitely in it's middle stages and things weren't looking so well.

You were advised not to go out there again, with Debra being the main person telling you no. She’s not sure if she witnessed a mental breakdown or an identity crisis, but she doesn’t want you to go out and make things more worse than they already are.

She felt that she had to stay behind with you to not only cheer you up a bit, but to break the news. She knew the outcome of the match.

“Are you feeling okay?” Debra suddenly asks. “You’re shaking like a dog.” She pats your shoulder and you nod.

“I’ve never felt better!” You chime. Debra knows that it’s probably not true, but she keeps it pushing.

“I think you should sit down…” She gently pushes you over to a chair and you oblige, taking a seat right in front of her. “You’ve done a lot tonight. I think it’s time for you to head back to the hotel.”

“But the match.."

Debra waves her hand at you. "Steve should be fine. And besides, it's not going the way you want it to." Before you can question her, she continues on. "He doesn't win the title. Chris Jericho wins the title."

You gasp and cover your mouth. Was she serious?! "You're kidding!"

Sometimes the finishes of matches was to be expected, but to think Jericho was going over.....you just couldn't believe it. You're not as panicked as you would originally be, because you knew that you'd see him tonight.

Triple H would come and "save" you by attacking him in the hotel room. Maybe that's all the revenge you need. So after she confirms it with a nod, you sigh. "Alrighty then.."

"Just alright?" Debra's wary. You're not snapping. Not angry. You're just okay. "You sure?"

"Yes."

At the very least you could watch the match from the monitor. But the night just isn't over. It's not over until they go off the air. Your revenge will come soon, even if you're not the one mainly attacking him.

Though, you weren't sure about being in lingerie on national television. You're not even sure if green actually fits you.

Honestly, you’ve never been a fan of those kind of things. Back then, you were somehow able to slip between the cracks of the monstrosities that were called gimmick matches.

Oh yes, you always chickened out. Sometimes you couldn’t get away with it, but the times you did, you ended up on some sort of cleaning duty backstage.

Very annoying. Even in WCW’s dying days, you somehow were always a victim to backstage politics, even if you were a woman.

Not having enough time. Having too much time. The crowd likes you too much. Things of that nature.

Fortunately the producers were more focused on your wrestling skill. They left most of the expose to Torrie and Stacy.

Sure, it hurt a little bit. Maybe gave the slightest hit to your confidence. But it’s kind of what you want.

“I have to ask, [Name]. Just what in the world was that earlier? Gosh, you’re lucky I urged Steve to get ready for his match.”

You did feel lucky. You’d rather have Debra talk to you than him, even if you were a bit more scared of her..

“Trish said I should make a statement, so I tried to make one. To get people to forget about my match.”

“You didn’t need to do that.” She crosses her arms. “If you ask me, that is the complete opposite of making a statement. I’m sure people think you’re out of your god dang mind.”

Okay, you might have screwed that up. But you’re starting to reach into the territory of not caring anymore.

“And more importantly—“ Debra is interrupted by the door opening.

The both of you turn your heads to see none other than a tired Jeff Hardy stood before you two.

“Hey. Sorry to interrupt. Can I talk to [Name] alone, please?”

You can just feel things becoming tense yet again. Guess it’s time to lay in the bed that fate has seemed to make for you.

tbh now that i think about it? golden!debra is probably gonna be different towards reader just because of jeff jarett. it’s not like a mentor thing, so i hope you know where im going with this…either way QUEEN DEBRA!!!!

i feel like this chapter wasn't what i wanted to be because of TUMBLR but either way i still hope you liked it for now im going to try and start putting the remaining bits into another post. so one portion will be past vengeance and next will be another show i suppose.

jeff wasn’t exactly mean to us right now, i ended it on a cliff hanger, but it’s coming for sure + triple h beating jericho up while we watch and cheer HEEHEE!

[moon-witchs-world]

Growing Pains - Remus J. Lupin part 4

Growing Pains – part three

A Hogwarts Tale

Remus Lupin x Fem!WitchReader

1,4 k words

This is part four of a multiple part series. You can find part three here

cw: mentions of dead

a/n: Thank you so much for all the likes, comments and reblogs. This story has received a lot of love lately and it makes my little heart so happy!

Masterlist

‘I want to show you something,’ Remus had said before you followed him, out of the  castle and past the lake. When the cold October wind made you shiver, he removed his cloak and put it around your shoulders without a word. You appreciated the kind gesture, but were still angry with him so you didn’t say anything either. You were expecting some kind of apology from Remus, but the longer you walked with him in silence, the more you started to doubt whether you would get one. What was he up to? You were so lost in your thoughts you almost bumped into him when he suddenly stopped walking. 

‘This is the Whomping Willow,’ he said pointing at the magical tree before you. 

‘I know that. It was already here when I attended Hogwarts.’ I, you said with intent, because as far as you were concerned there was no such thing as ‘we’ or ‘us’. 

'I hate trees,' you mumbled, which was a lie. You were perfectly indifferent about trees, but you weren't going to let Remus off easily. He had been nothing but rude to you and it was time to mirror his behavior.

‘It was planted in 1971 to cover up a secret passage that leads all the way to the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade,’ he explained while looking at the moving branches of the violent tree. 

‘And why are you telling me this?’ you asked impatiently. He was getting on your nerves. Standing there, hands in his pockets, seemingly unaware of how annoyed you were. It was cold, despite wearing his cloak and you had no idea why he brought you outside to talk about a stupid tree. 

‘This tree was planted here because of me. Every full moon I sneak out of the castle and go to the Shrieking Shack, the tree prevents me from getting out during my transformations and also makes it less likely for anyone to follow me. I thought giving you some insight into what happens during my transformations will help you understand why I don’t want people too close to me. This,’ he pointed at the tree, ‘is  just one example of the complexity of being a werewolf.’

‘I understand it’s complex, Remus. But on the other hand, it’s just a night. One night a month. It doesn’t define you.’ A thin smile appeared on his face and he shook his head. 

‘Your positivity is bordering on being toxic, my dear Y/N. I feel like you’ve made it your life’s mission to turn every single struggle into something positive. This whole stupid werewolf thing, as you like to call it, it's just horrible. You need to be more realistic. Stop sugarcoating everything.' His words made your blood boil. 

'I never said this is a positive thing. You treat me like I'm some foolish girl who believes in fairytales. I'm not stupid. I'm just trying to tell you you've been focusing all of your energy on the wrong things. Yes, you're a werewolf and I bet it sucks. But guess what? Terrible things happen to good people all the time.' You paused and looked at him. His green eyes had wandered of into the distance and he seemed convinced to not look at you. 

'My husband died a few days before our first wedding anniversary, he was 25. He was everything I ever wanted in a person. Our marriage was great and he still died. After it happened, there were days I only survived because I was too stubborn to let the grief overwhelm me. So I changed my perspective, focusing my energy on looking for the good things. Or at least the okay things. That is not a weakness. I'm not naive. I did what I had to do to survive. So no, Remus Lupin. You're not going to stand there and talk down to me like I'm some kind of delusional little girl. I'm not having it. I've been accepting your awful behavior for a long time now and I'm not doing it anymore.'  

You turned around, ready to walk away when he grabbed your arm. You tried to shake him off, but he only pulled you closer towards him. This time he finally looked at you. His eyes filled with worry but still looking at you softly, making you feel like you were the only person in the world. The only one worth looking at. It was astonishing to you what the effect of his eyes on you was. He reached out and grabbed your hands. Your hands seemed to fit perfectly, your hands cool in his warm and bigger ones, fingers intertwined. 

'I am terribly sorry, Y/N. Once again I underestimated you. I feel this urge to protect you with all my might when I'm around you. I seem to forget time and time again that you are strong and brave and way out of my league,' he said, ending his sentence with a sigh. 

His words made you blush. You looked down at your hands, entangled, strangely familiar. 

'You make it sound like I'm not even human. I have a lot of flaws, I know that, Remus. My perseverance and curiosity will be my downfall one day, I'm sure of it. And by all means, if you don't like me, please say so. But it all feels so contradictory. You let me get close to you, then push me away. I don't want to play games.' In the silence that followed Remus looked at you for a while. When he started talking his voice was filled with regret. 

'I never wanted to make you feel this way. I hate that I made you feel this way. It's just... You're way too kind. And I obviously like you. I feel like that was obvious, but I guess it was not. I'm not someone who plays games.' His words surprised you. Did he really just casually mention he liked you? 

'Holy Godric! Are you always this grumpy and rude to people you like? I thought you hated me,' you answered confused. 

'Only the smart and pretty ones that intimidate me with their perseverance get the grumpy treatment,' he answered with a smirk. You didn't know what to say and it must be written all over your face because Remus continued to speak. 

'So once again and hopefully this will be the last time: I'm sorry, Y/N.'  You looked at him. He seemed sincere and all you wanted was to be able to talk to him again like you did before. To befriend the handsome and smart and sometimes very rude man in front of you. You pretended to think long and hard about what he said, but then shrugged. 

'All right then. Apology accepted. Friends?' you asked even though you hated the word friends in this context. There was so much more you wanted from him, but now was not the time to tell him that. 

'Friends,' he replied with a smile. When he looked down at his hands, you realized he was still holding yours. It suddenly felt too intimate and you let go of his hands quickly. 

‘I have to go,’ you said when you looked at the time and realized it was almost time to teach your next class. 

‘Go? I’m sure you don’t have to,’ he answered.  He wasn't even trying to hide his disappointment, it was written all over his face

‘Yeah, I really do. You know how professor Dumbledore pays me every month? He expects me to teach students in return. Crazy, I know,' you said sarcastically which made Remus laugh out loud. 

'You're something else, Y/N.'

‘Very true. Glad you're all caught up now. See you later, Remus,’ you said and for a moment you stood there, unsure of how to say goodbye to your new friend. A kiss on the cheek seemed a bit excessive, a handshake weirdly pompous. Remus decided for you and pulled you into a quick but very warm and comfortable hug. 

‘See you later, Y/N,’ he said and you started walking back to the castle. 

When you entered the castle a few minutes later, you noticed you were still wearing his cloak. 

@turvi @carlito55ainzbae @spidermansolosurfav > let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

Part five

[theflowerofthecommonwealth]

Power Armor Punch Part Forty Four

Masterlist

Teshteal: *defeated whisper, facing away from her* Why did you come back…? I’m not worth your life…

Nick: *running rather fast, too. He hesitates when he sees the sight*

Teshteal: *sniffs* Your father came back to collect you. *given up. Tiredly* Go…

Jasmine: (Can barely function properly anymore, she’s actually doing a combination of lip reading and listening for sounds to make out what he’s saying because both her hearing and vision are depleting) “Mamá said to protect… my siblings… I failed, they are dead…” (Reaches for his hand, tears going down her face while she closes her eyes from the pain) “She is dead, I promised… please come…”

Teshteal: And I’m protecting you by saying you shouldn’t lay here dying for a lost cause… *curls up tighter* I’ll be fine. Don’t trouble yourself over me.

Jasmine: (Squeezes his hand while she takes in a deep pained breath, forgetting that her hand is covered in cuts and blood) “Fine, be that way and stay. But I still love you and you cannot stop me… Please come visit me soon…” (Hides her face away into the dirt of the ground, unable to take the pain anymore. She feels like she’s on fire, considering that she’s used to being cold all the time it feels like literal Hell. Her heart is beating loudly in her ears, being the only thing that she can hear and blinding white flashes being the only thing that she can see)

Teshteal: *heart leaps at his hand being squeezed and he suddenly starts to cry. Whispers to himself* Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. *cursing himself for trying to push her away when this kid is the closest thing to family he’s probably ever going to get after the vault* I can’t… I can’t stay here… *rolls over and gasps when he sees her. His heart aches seeing her in so much pain* You’re going to need help getting back to Lucille. Even with Nick carrying you. *squeezes her hand*

Nick: *walks over to Jas* I doubt that-

Teshteal: *getting real sick of Nick his overprotective papa bear routine and gets to his feet* Why?! What is it about me that makes you feel like you can’t trust me?! I was a one of your colleagues before the war! Even if I sucked at my job, I ALWAYS did the best I could as a public servant! *beats his chest, getting in the synth detective’s face* “PROTECT AND SERVE” Nick- I took that oath SERIOUSLY and I still FXCKING DO! *takes his hat off revealing his messy dark brown hair* Stop treating me like scum after saving your daughter when no one else could!

Nick: *taken aback by the sudden burst of rage from the shorter man. He blinks and swallows hard while processing his words. Suddenly reminded of the first tale he told Lucille about the mayor’s daughter and how he got to be the detective he is today. Quietly, eating his own words* You’re right…

Jasmine: (Blubbers out some sobs while Teshteal is yelling, she only registers it as shouting, angry voices hovering over her. Both of her hands reach under her jacket and shirt to harshly scratch at the cuts she made on her stomach and waist earlier to help soothe herself from the stress of the situation)

Teshteal: H-huh? I am…?

Nick: Yeah… you are. I’m sorry- I haven’t been exactly fair. You saved her life. You didn’t have to but you did and I let my suspicion of the vault she came from cloud my judgement. *sighs as he bends down and scoops up his daughter. He takes her arm and wraps it around his shoulder and her other hand in one of his. While looking down at her* Jasmine really seems to care about you an awful lot. In fact, so far, you’ve been the only other person that can hold her without getting outright mauled. To think, you barely know each other. *shrugs* I pegged you wrong.

Teshteal: *starts crying because it’s so rare he’s acknowledged that he’s ever right about anything- especially after the vault*

Jasmine: (Whimpers and cries in alarm when she is lifted from the ground, going mostly quiet with stifled mutters when she senses it’s Dad who’s holding her in his arms again. She immediately snuggles close while burying her face in his coat, tears, blood, sweat, and grime caked on her face. Still can’t make heads or tails of what’s happening, just that she feels like complete burning shit and her waist area is stinging now)

Nick: *slowly turns and starts to walk back towards Lucille*

Teshteal: *stands there for a moment- his self doubt and sudden fit of crying stopping him*

Nick: *stops. Sensing the younger man isn’t following* You coming?

Teshteal: I- *whipes his face* Yeah. I’m coming, Detective Valentine. *looks down at his hat lying on the floor and picks it up, whiping off the radioactive dust. He hadn’t even noticed he threw it down. He puts it on, sliding his horns through the holes before scampering to catch up with Nick and Jas, walking along side them with a slight newfound sense of self pride. Starts to sing* We know of an ancient radiation that haunts dismembering constellations-

Nick: *chimes in* A faintly glimmering radio station~! With Frank Sinatra singin’-

Teshteal: *grins, excitedly jumping in and happy someone’s singing with him* Stormy weather, the flies and the spiders get along together~!

Both: Cobwebs on an old skipping record! *continues the song as they walk*

Jasmine: (Goes completely quiet and limp, not asleep but just kinda drifting in the void of space and time itself. She can faintly hear them singing, but it sounds more like harmonic humming to her)

Nick: *vocalizes the instruments between that section and the next*

Teshteal: *with a bounce in his step as he looks up at the sky then at the road ahead* Beyond the suns that guard this roost, beyond your flowers of flaming truth-!

Nick: *sees a burnt out billboard, almost bellowing out melodically* Beyond your latest ad campaigns!!

Teshteal: *hops over a downed power pole and helps Nick over it so he doesn’t trip while holding Jas* An old man sits collecting stamps in a room all filled with Chinese lamps-!

Nick: *after he’s over and notices the junk all around the street* He saves what others throw away- He says that he’ll be rich someDAY~!

Teshteal: *vocalizes the instruments this time, watching the road ahead and enjoying the company*

Jasmine: (Just stays in her trance unmoving, if she were more alert at the moment, she’d be smiling and giggling at the two)

Nick: *strokes Jas’s hair* We know of an ancient Radiation-

Teshteal: *swiftly cuts down a pack of mole rats that burst out of the ground* That haunts dismembering constellations! *tossing the piece of aluminum siding he used as a knife aside*

Nick: *squints at a familiar blue glint in the distance* A faintly glimmering radio station! *vocalizing again* DA! Da-da. Da! Da-a~!

Jasmine: (Clutches onto Nick tighter when he strokes her hair comfortingly, her hand around his shoulder gripping his coat)

Teshteal: We know of an ancient radiation that haunts dismembering constellations.

Nick: *thinking of the music Lucille loves to put on* A faintly glimmering radio station!

Teshteal: With Frank Sinatra- *smashes a radscorpion in the face with the concrete remains of a street sign*

Nick: Singing Stormy Weather! *ducks as Teshteal knocks the ever living hell out of a rad scorpion that popped up next to him*

Both: *as they run towards the blue power armor in the distance* The flies and spiders get along together!

Lucille: *jerks awake hearing them sing* Cobwebs on an old skipping record…?! Huh?

Teshteal: *hums the rest of the tune as Nick sets Jas down. They got there pretty quick*

Jasmine: (Makes a noise of confusion as she is set down and partly jerked out from La La world, her hands instinctively crossing over her chest and her ankles lock together. She can’t tell if this is a hallucination or reality, maybe a mix of both… She feels like she’s surrounded by at least a dozen shadows, all of them looming over her while she panics and silently prays that her Dad who was just holding her was real)

Nick: *Sits with her as she’s set down and cradles her with one arm as he pulls out yet another rag, some alcohol, and water to clean her wounds* It’s alright, doll. I’m still here. *pulls out another bottle of purified water and cracks it open, holding it to her mouth* Here. You’re probably dehydrated. *gently tilts it, enough to at least wet her lips*

Jasmine: (Tries to swat him away for half a second, then stops and takes a few tiny sips from the water. Nicks voice sounds foggy and muffled, like he’s talking from a closet even though he’s right next to her)

Nick: Let me know when you need me to stop. *keeps it tilted so it’s a very slow trickle*

Teshteal: Need any help?

Nick: Yeah. Dowse one of the rags with water for me, would ya?

Teshteal: On it. *soaks it* Now what?

Nick: Start gently cleaning her face.

Teshteal: *nods and gently dabs her face with the rag, whiping away the dirt and grime. Softly* There, Rosie… getting you all nice and clean.

Jasmine: (Can’t recognize Teshteal while in this muddled state, she can barely register Nick, she’s that disoriented. She lightly whines and pulls away while water trickles from her mouth, hiding in Nicks shoulder and curling into a ball)

Nick: Ssh… doll, it’s just Teshteal. He’s trying to help.

Teshteal: Yeah. It’s just me. *cleans what he can* It’s just… *voice falters, horrible thoughts and memories flooding his mind for a second* …me. *takes a deep breath then* You deserve to feel clean and happy. *Feigns a smile as he fends off terrible thoughts of being forgotten*

Jasmine: (Stays curled up against Nick while she clings to him, but she turns her face back to both of them. Their words still just sound like mumbling babble to her, but her Dads voice has a reassuring tone so she’s willing to peep back out just a little. Plus he’s still cradling her, he won’t let anything happen to her)

Teshteal: *rinses the rag away from her and then goes back in to gently clean up the rest of her face and neck. Softly and sweetly* You deserve to be cared for…

Jasmine: (Doesn’t respond or make any acknowledgment other than clutching her Dad tighter from around his waist while the pain comes in waves. Teshteals sweet tone does keep her at ease and helps her refrain from flinching back. That and the whirling of Nicks inner machinery and the slight hum it gives off)

Teshteal: *very carefully takes her hand and cleans them* You deserve love and feel love…

Nick: *strokes her hair again*

Jasmine: (Hisses at the stinging in her hands, hiding her face away in Dads coat while whimpering like a small child as Teshteal cleans her wounds)

Teshteal: *softly* Sorry… *whipes away the blood on her hands completely* There…

Nick: Now the disinfectant. *holds Jas a bit tighter, knowing this might send her into feral kitten mode* I’ll try to keep her still while you apply it.

Teshteal: *hard swallow. Doesn’t want to get hurt let alone hurt her. He obliges anyway, pouring the alcohol on the rag and gently pressing it to the gashes on her hands. Timidly, very apologetically* I’m sorry…

Jasmine: (Of course she starts shrieking and trashing to get away from whatever is making her hands burn and sting even more when she is hot and in pain enough as it is. At the very least this means she has not given up yet and would fight for her life when it came to it)

Nick: Ssh- It’s okay, Rosie. We have to make sure you don’t get an infection, doll. *strokes her hair some more*

Teshteal: *winces at the shrieking but manages to keep her hands and the rag clasped between his, using her thrashing against her in a way to more thoroughly disinfect the wounds* Please don’t be mad at me when you wake up.

Nick: I don’t think she’ll even remember it was you who disinfected the wound, if that helps.

Teshteal: *again. The thought of being forgotten stings him somehow and a fear ridden grin breaks out on his face* It doesn’t, but thanks for trying.

Jasmine: (Wont be mad at either of them when she wakes up, but for now shes crying and squirming under both of their hold while sweat and tears dampen her face once more)

Teshteal: *pulls out some salve from his own bag*

Nick: What’s that?

Teshteal: A special soothing salve made from plants that works wonderfully on cuts. Made it myself.

Nick: Let me see it first.

Teshteal: … *looks up at the detective, wondering if he doesn’t trust him still* Okay. *screws off the top and lets him look into it*

Nick: *sniffs and stares into the slightly opaque paste. It is indeed a salve. A strong one at that* How-?

Teshteal: I’ve been around for over a century.

Nick: Ah. *scoops some of the salve out of the jar and clasps one of Jas’s hands with one of his to apply it, letting the screaming but otherwise mostly unconscious teen do most of the work for him*

Teshteal: *does the same, hoping it’ll work on her. It certainly does for him*

Jasmine: (Continues to thrash around and hiss like the feral kitten she is in protest, getting more and more weak with her energy going down. She is so damn tired and in pain, but she’s as relentless as always)

Teshteal: *as he closes the salve* This was the only medication that would work after the vault… *pulls out the bandages and starts to wrap her hands and wrist as carefully and neatly despite Jas’s squirming*

Nick: How did you figure it out?

Teshteal: *shrugs* Some practices in my family passed down through generations- salves, balms, and food especially.

Nick: …How the hell are you so knowledgeable about this stuff and yet you can’t follow simple police protocol?

Tesheal: *can’t help but crack a sad smile* I learned some of this stuff when I was a child but a lot of it after the vault. After everyone had died and couldn’t teach me how to do it properly.

Nick: Ah. Trial and error. The two greatest teachers you can have. *wry smirk*

Jasmine: (Starts lightly kicking her feet, pressing herself against Nick as she sobs something about the pain)

Nick: I know, doll… it’ll go away soon, I hope. *takes that cloth used on her face and starts to rinse it. He pats her face down with it before ringing it out and refreshing it to cool her down again*

Teshteal: The salve should take affect in a few minutes.

Nick: Good. I might apply med-x to help ease her pain but I’m not certain that’ll help with her current condition.

Teshteal: And risk overloading her system?

Nick: … Good point.

Teshteal: *grins, right again. He feels a little more confident in himself*

Jasmine: (Clinging to her Dad as tightly as her weak arms can hold,  her whole body trembling like a leaf)

Nick: It’s alright, doll. You’re safe… *holds her close again, petting her hair. Rocks her from side to side, humming that lullaby*

Teshteal: *doesn’t really recognize it but hums along with him*

Jasmine: (Her sobs slowly die down to soft whimpers, feeling a sense of peacefulness come over her)

Nick: *continues to hum, glad that the worst part of treating her is through without much incident. Honestly, now, he’s pretty thankful Teshteal was there to help with Jas*

Teshteal: *still humming along with them*

Lucille: *Fallen asleep in her power armor again*

Jasmine: (Still very warm and sweating despite calming down. Again, since she is used to being an ice princess she might as well be on fire. Kinda reminds her scrambled brain of a song… How did it go? Had to do something with Hell and ringing bells)

Nick: *keeps patting her face down with a damp cloth to cool her off*

Teshteal: *Wishes he knew what to do for her.*

Jasmine: (Cant recall the song but she knows its from Betty Boop, she can picture an animation of her dancing surrounded by flames)

Teshteal: *digs around in Nick’s bag for another rag and starts assisting with keeping her cool. He feels useless otherwise.*

Jasmine: (Wondering why the hell Betty would walk into a portal to Hell that opened up in her fireplace, kinda naïve but she did freeze the place with a cold shoulder ans stare. Froze Satan himself in fact. Heh, maybe thats why she loves Betty’s cartoons so much)

Nick: Perhaps we should remove some of her armor so she cools off?

Teshteal: In the Glowing Sea?

Nick: We aren’t really going anywhere for the night. Here. Help me get some of this stuff off of her.

Teshteal: *starts working on that*

Jasmine: (Screams VERY loudly and tries to push them both away while scrambling to get off the counter she’s on top of. She was lost in her head thinking about Betty Boop so snapping back into partial reality to feel her armor being removed without much context is blaring alarms in her head)

Nick: *urgently but firmly* Rosie! Rosie it’s okay! We’re just trying to cool you off! Promise! *takes her hand and squeezes* Dad’s right here.

Teshteal: *pulls the torso leather armor off and just that. Luckily it comes apart in pieces- Lucille modified it for cases like this- so he’s not pulling it over her head* That’s all. That’s all we’re going to remove. We’re just trying to help. *Dabs her face again with a cool wet cloth. Softly with concern in his voice. He almost sounds like a parent, himself* We aren’t going to hurt you…

Jasmine: (Calms down and goes back to clinging onto Dad with hiccuping tears once she’s again reminded of who’s with her. Her breathing picked up during the panic and she’s trembling more while trying to disappear in his coat like a frightened little kitten seeking shelter)

Nick: *hums the lullaby softly to her again*

Teshteal: *hums along with him again, gently undoing her braids and redoing them in one so less hair covers either side of her body. Thinks her hair is very pretty as he does it*

Jasmine: (Getting sleepier and sleepier as time goes on, but her body is too hyped up and uncomfortable for her to properly fall asleep. For now, she’s just enjoying the feeling of safety and care…. It’s bringing back warm prewar memories of sleepovers with friends and bedtime routines)

Teshteal: *after they’re done humming the lullaby, to Jas even though he knows she probably can’t hear him… it might help to hear someone talk* You know… when I was a kid, I used to have long hair. Not curly like this but it was long. My mom used to put it up in a ponytail or maybe tie it back with a little bun or smaller pony tail at the top with very simple ribbons. *smiles fondly at the memory* I got called a girl by other kids but I didn’t care. After reading about Samurai and Shoguns and quite a few Japanese folk tales, I pretended I was some sort of mighty warrior defending a lord or daimyo by fighting evil spirits and malicious tricksters. Should have seen me on the play ground, waving my stick like I’m trying to weild a sword. *chuckles softly*

Jasmine: (Snuffs and shuffles to try and position herself more comfortably leaning against her Dad)

Teshteal: Ah. I’m boring you. Talking about little me pretending to be a samurai. I wonder what my hair would look like in a braid like this? Probably not as messy. *nearly done* I think some warriors in the era before the Edo period did do their hair in braids. I don’t remember. *realizes he’s gone right back to talking about Samurai* Sorry…

Jasmine: (Is actually asleep now, just really uneasy as Chem hallucinations and dreams mix with real life. She’s still very much aware that Nick is holding her and someone else is nearby whom her brain has decided to label “friend” but all the other shadows are mysterious and frightening)

Nick: Hard to bore her if she’s asleep, Li- I mean Teshteal.

Teshteal: *finishes braiding her hair and sits back* I suppose… *thinking for a bit*

Nick: You’re pausing-

Teshteal: *sits up, fear flashing on his face* Sorry. I didn’t mean to.

Nick: No- it’s just when you go silent like that you seem to have a breakdown.

Teshteal: Not that in kinda pause, Detective. I was actually thinking about something.

Nick: We have time. Safer to travel during the day anyway.

Teshteal: …I wonder if I would have made a good father.

Nick: *silently looks to Jas for a second then studies him curiously* Huh.

Teshteal: No- you’re right. I would be a terrible father. Or would have been.

Nick: Not what I’m thinking at all. *gently strokes Jas’s cheek*

Jasmine: (Even in her sleep, her hold on Nick is pretty strong. As of right now there is only an occasional whimper or sniff of discomfort)

Teshteal: Then what…?

Nick: I think you would have and still could be a great parent. You handled Jas pretty well… though I think ya may want to hold off on picking your kid up by the legs with that tail. *points to the gremlin’s long glowing tail*

Teshteal: *grabs his tail self consciously* Yeah. Sorry-

Nick: Don’t apologize. It probably was the safest way to get her back without either of you getting severely hurt.

Teshteal: *smiles a little proudly*

Jasmine: (Takes a deep breath in her sleep while her nose scrunches cutely)

Nick: You could always adopt… there are plenty of orphans in the Commonwealth that could use a good dad.

Teshteal: I could have a kid naturally-

Nick: No. I don’t think that’s possible just looking at you. Something tells me they might have messed around with your DNA and used something like FEV to make it stick. That has certain… side effects.

Teshteal: Oh… I see.

Nick: What brought this on so suddenly? You wanting kids?

Teshteal: I dunno. I guess I’d like to have a family. *shrugs* I’d like to have people who love me despite my problems…

Nick: You don’t need to be a father for that.

Teshteal: I guess you’re right. *sighs sadly*

Jasmine: (Let’s out a small whimper while she relaxes her hold on Nick, bringing one hand over to cover her face in her sleep)

Teshteal: *takes his hat off again and gently sets it on her head, only tilting it just a little to cover her eyes. If she can smell it, it smells like dust or an old house. There’s also a hint of rosemary, sandlewood, lemon grass, and olive oil in it, too but very faint- all around a very earthy and musky smell on the old hat*

Jasmine: (Doesn’t try to move but she puts her arm back around Nick)

Nick: *small smile at Jas, guessing that’s what she wanted then he looks to Teshteal* You should probably get some sleep, too. I’ll keep an ear out.

Teshteal: I’ll try. *scratches around on the ground to clear debris and makes a clean area for himself to lay. He pulls out his possum toy and curls up around it, trying to rest*

Jasmine: (Both of her hands grip onto Nicks coat while she rests. Because she is so small, her hands are quite petite and delicate as well, also very soft despite all the harshness of the Wasteland toughening up most people’s skin, literally. But she can still pack a deadly punch and hold a tight grip, she’s strangled and caved in enough heads to prove that)

Nick: *just sits there. A sentinel in a burned out house that once held so much life. One last time, it’ll shelter someone before it can finally rest*

Teshteal: *asleep but he’s having a nightmare. His legs kick in his sleep and he tries to curl up tighter around his possum*

Jasmine: (Tenses in her sleep with a small yelp of fear, her head lowering slightly)

Nick: Ssh… *strokes her hair* It’s alright… No one’s going to hurt you… *takes that rag from before and dabs cool water on her face to help soothe her and get her temperature down while she sleeps* Teshteal’s just a little restless. That’s all.

Teshteal: *clawing at nothing in his little laying area like he’s trying to attack something*

Jasmine: (Continued to whine and yelp in her sleep like a terrified lost kitten crying for her mother, her hands scratching at her skin. She tosses around when a particular shadow looms down over her and she swears she can smell that horrid skunky-earthy smell of weed that always reeked on his clothes and breath. It starts burning her eyes as she gasps for air while he crushes her under his weight and starts making her body ache in impossible ways…) (Mumbling desperately) “Off-! You are hurting me! Get off, please…. Hurts…!”

Nick: *takes her hand and gently squeezes it. Reassuringly* That man’s not going to hurt you anymore… If I ever find him he’s as good as dead.

Teshteal: *mutters softly* Not a rat.. *whips his tail in his sleep*

Jasmine: (Shrieks and squirms as Teshteal’s hat gets knocked off her head, not from Nick but from this horrible nightmare that seems endless. She squeezes her legs together and locks her ankles in an attempt to protect herself, whispering those degrading words over and over again between fast and heavy breaths of pain)

@lucilleandherrobots

[nonclassyparty]

[TEASER] Starring Role - ACT VII

act vi / masterlist / act vii

"You know...your friend..." San starts quietly, breaking the stifling silence and you think you stop breathing for a moment at the mention of Wooyoung. "He didn't mean any of that."

You chuckle bitterly, rolling your eyes but knowing he can't see you. "Then why did he say it?"

"Because he was angry." Is his reply and if you were looking at him, you'd see how his mouth turns downwards. "People say a lot of things they don't mean when they're angry sometimes. I know I do...you do too."

You remain silent.

"I think we can't properly form thoughts because of all the emotions going through us so we start panicking and then shit you don't mean slips out and what we actually mean gets lost in the translation because we let the anger lead because it's easier than having to sort through your feelings." San explains and you might think this is the longest you've ever quietly talked about something with him. No yelling or nasty words exchanged. "And I think he's just worried and thinks you deserve better. And he wouldn't be wrong to think so either."

You turn to look at him over your shoulder, the sheets still pulled up to your chin and the edges of it balled up in your fists. "Then why are you here?"

San stares at you, he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and your glare hardens.

"No. Why are you here?" You ask with a little bit of edge to your words, "If you think I deserve better or whatever the fuck then why are you here?"

"I'll sound like an asshole if I answer that honestly."

"I already think you're an asshole, the least you can do is try to explain." You snap back but San is still just staring, the material of his sweater makes him look cozy but his eyes are hollow as he looks at you. Sad.

"I'm selfish and I know you want me." You chuckle humorlessly, shaking your head and turning your back to him again.

"A lot of people want you San, I'm not special." Is what you reply with as you fold your hands under your cheek, staring at the curtains brushing the floor of your bedroom.

"Yeah." If you weren't as sad as you were, you would've laughed at his reply. Cocky motherfucker. "But they aren't as miserable as you."

You freeze at that, blood rushing to your cheeks in anger as you slowly turn to glare at him again over your shoulder.

You should've kicked him out when you had the chance.

San's eyes are still on you, his jaw is clenched and he swallows before continuing in a whisper; "I'm not saying it to hurt you and I'm not trying to pick a fight. But there's no point in sugarcoating shit, not between us. We've been through way too much for that."

You only click your tongue in response, face set in a hard glare and hand itching to smack him across the face with it.

"I'm saying it because miserable people recognize miserable people." Despite the absolutely fury you feel at everything he's saying right now, you still hang onto his words with a bated breath because really, this is the first time in almost two years of knowing him that San is actually talking.

Not flirting, not dirty talking, not lying.

He's talking and with that - he's revealing some parts of himself and no matter how upset you are, you'll still latch onto it and be hungry for more.

"And don't get me wrong, I'll never understand why you of all people are miserable when you have everything and nothing anyone else says will change my mind until I'm able to experience it on my own or something." His lip quirks up and a dimple etches into his cheek as he blinks, "I guess I'll have to get rich and then find out for myself."

You don't know what to say. You don’t even have the strength to force out a chuckle. He’s not being funny right now.

San shifts to lay on his back and it's only then that you notice that he actually sneaked his way under your covers. You wonder if your sheets will smell like him after he leaves. You wonder if they will smell like his shampoo, his cologne or both.

"But sometimes when I look at you, it's like looking into a mirror and weirdly enough, it’s comforting." He says staring at your ceiling and your bottom lip trembles because, fuck, he's being honest and you actually understand.

"And since you have the same self-destructive tendencies as me, I’ll tell you this as well..." You turn your back to him again, not ready to hear what's coming. "You should've slammed the door to my face that day."

A tear slips down your temple and gets soaked up into your pillow.

"I don't think you're in love with me because I haven't shown you anything to love but if you think you are, then you shouldn't be and you should listen to your friend." He pauses, "Sex is sex. I know what you like and how you like it and I'll do it gladly for you but love? I have nothing to offer you there and I don’t think I ever will."

“It would be so easy to lie right now, Y/N, it would be so easy to tell you that I feel the same way or that I might feel the same way some day but I won’t. As I said, we’ve been through way too much and you deserve the truth.”

You stare blankly at the ends of your curtains again.

His words don't hurt you anymore, you don't know why.

You don't know if it's because you're already all spent up, all out of emotions that you can't feel at the moment and it will all hit you once he leaves...or is it just because you already knew this all along.

"And I know I sound like an asshole right now, I know, trust me." San sighs and you don't want to imagine the expression he has on his face. "But in a fucked up way, I'm fond of you and I'm just laying here wondering how fucked up do you have to be to let me back in. I’m not worth all of that, I don’t think anyone is."

For the third time, you turn to look at him over your shoulder. Your eyes run over the freckles at the side of his neck as his head is tilted up towards your ceiling.

"I can never say no to you." It feels like this will be your demise.

His dark eyes meet yours again and he might be right, he looks just about as empty as you feel.

"I know." San lets out quietly, "That's where the selfish part comes in...I know you'll always take me back."

I’m selfish and I know you want me.

And that's not new. You remain unfazed.

"You're going to think I'm even more fucked up when I tell you that right now I have only two people I can say are close to a friend to me and you're one of them." You admit in a soft breath.

San lets out a chuckle at that, a soft one that you barely hear and if you weren't staring so intently you probably would've never even noticed it.

"We're quite the pair, aren't we? You and I." He whispers with a sad smile.

[tagthescullion]

Il Minuetto della Ragazza

Fandom(s): Percy Jackson and the Olympians

Rating: T

Summary: Bianca di Angelo is alive. Alive and upset, confused, desperate… Camp Half Blood lost her little brother, and there’s nothing she wouldn’t do to bring him home safe.

AO3 link

I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII - IX - X - XI - XII - XIII - XIV

Chapter 15: “Chicken Salad”

Thalia was frowning. She didn’t look angry, Bianca thought, but she was certainly not happy either.

“How long have you known this?” Thalia demanded. “Is that why the Fury—?”

Bianca nodded. “That’s why he sent that piece of advice via the Fury. I didn’t…”

Didn’t what? She had known. Or had enough evidence to suspect, at least. And yet she’d waited a day and a half —and a boar attack— to tell her. 

Annabeth tilted her head, which was turned towards Thalia. 

The older girl crossed her arms. “Did you know this?”

Annabeth shrugged. “Nico sent lots of those skeletons back to the Underworld by command. We had more clues to fill the puzzle.”

“Why did neither of you think to tell me this?”

To Bianca’s surprise, Thalia sounded hurt. It made her feel guilty.

“It wasn’t my secret to tell,” Annabeth conceded. “Besides, you had your history with your uncle, I didn’t think you’d take it kindly if told via IM.”

Thalia turned towards Bianca.

Bianca felt herself blush. “I thought you wouldn’t trust me anymore if I told you. That you wouldn’t want me around.”

Thalia looked away, as if she wasn’t too sure yet. But with enough conviction she said: “You’re not your father, are you? I don’t judge people based on their parents, I never have!”

Bianca shook her head. “I didn’t mean to imply that, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be angry with her for keeping that to herself,” Annabeth told Thalia. “Sometimes it’s better for people not to know. You’ve said it yourself, that you wished you’d gotten to Camp without people knowing who your father was. I know Percy felt the same way for a while, and I can understand why.”

“Why’s that?” Bianca asked. She knew she had been reluctant because her father had been actively hunting her cousin, and she could see why Thalia would have wanted to hide she was Zeus’ child, what with all the responsibility that came with. But Poseidon’s son?

“When Percy was claimed, I was absolutely mad,” Annabeth admitted. Bianca’s eyes widened. The older girl smiled. “Yeah, it was stupid of me. I thought because he was Poseidon’s son, he couldn’t be my friend. Poseidon and Athena have a millennia old rivalry. But then he let me go on that quest, and I realised it doesn’t matter shit. Who your godly parent is, who your mortal parent is… It doesn’t matter. A person’s value lies on them.”

“For somebody who thought they wouldn’t be friends, you two sure became best buddies quickly.” Thalia remarked.

“Percy’s a great person,” Annabeth stated. “No matter who his father is, he’s loyal, brave, and kind.”

“Is that why you fancy him?” Bianca asked. Then she inhaled sharply.

“Why I what?”

“I didn’t mean…” Bianca blushed darker as she shook her hands, as if that would erase her last comment. “To imply you— Clarisse said you weren’t together yet so I thought—”

“Yet?”

“I— I just— Not like—” Bianca threw Thalia a begging glance.

Unfortunately, Thalia clearly found the whole thing most entertaining. Or perhaps fortunately, because she seemed to have forgotten her previous turmoil.

Annabeth didn’t find it quite as funny. Her face was red and she looked furious.

“Let the child be,” Thalia told her. “Who hasn’t told you that yet? Even Luke must think the same.”

“I don’t care what Luke thinks or not,” Annabeth snapped.

“But you care what Clarisse thinks?”

Annabeth gave Thalia a nasty look. “No, I don’t. But she shouldn’t spread unfounded rumours…”

“All right, all right,” Thalia said, her tone commanding. “I’ll be sure to tell her that when I see her again.”

Bianca thought she wouldn’t call those unfounded, but she was on thin ice already, she didn’t want to make Annabeth any more upset, so she kept that to herself.

“Urgh.” Annabeth crossed her arms tightly, giving her an air of petulance Bianca recalled Nico had whenever he was denied something.

Bianca had such a talent to put people at ease. Truly. 

Before anybody could throw around any other unfounded rumours, someone knocked on the door.

Edwina entered before she’d got a reply. “We’ve a list of pizzas, Thalia.”

“Thank you,” their lieutenant called. She turned towards Annabeth and Bianca and added: “I’m still unbelievably betrayed by you two, but I’m not the same when I’m hungry, so let’s get dinner and then we’ll keep talking.”

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

They’d ordered their pizzas, Malcolm Pace had arrived from soccer practice —sweaty, nasty, and surprised by the amount of Hunters looking at him as if he was the scum of the Earth— right on time to eat, and Bianca had discovered two things:

One, that her nonna had been right. Pizza was disgusting. Whatever the U.S. of A. thought mozzarella was, they were wrong. They hadn’t had too much of the real thing in Italy either, she didn’t think, but she refused to believe the napoletani —who, for all their flaws, had very good cuisine— would accept such a disgustingly greasy, stringy, nasty-smelling cheese on their famous glorified toast.

Two, that Thalia had been right, too. Food made her a much nicer and reasonable person, less prone to emotional and electrical outbursts. During the quest, Bianca hadn’t noticed much. Perhaps because she’d kept to Zoë, or perhaps because they’d always been starving, so there wasn’t much to compare it with. But regardless, it made a big change in her personality.

Malcolm, who was sitting with them because he’d been wary of some of the other girls —particularly Helena, who was having a villainous day—, was the first to notice Bianca’s disappointment towards the pizza.

“Not like the ones at home?” He asked with a genuine smile. 

He’d showered, changed, and had chosen an old red and blue jersey with a number 10 on his back as pyjamas. His eyes, as grey as Annabeth’s, were a lot less calculating. He had dimples when he smiled, and while Bianca had never seen the point of drooling over boys, she thought him a perfectly nice young man. He’d been kind and courteous, even in the face of not very nice comments by some of the Hunters.

“No, Malcolm,” Thalia replied before Bianca could, her mouth full of the stinky attempt at cheese. “Bianca’s family were too fancy for that, pizza’s for the poor.”

“That’s not what I said!” Bianca argued. 

Malcolm chuckled. “That’s fine. It’s not for everybody.” He turned to Annabeth. “There’s that Apollo kid, the Welsh girl. She hates cheese, made a fuzz that time we tried to have a pizza night at Camp.”

“Lee mentioned it last summer,” Thalia supplied. “Juli the Demeter kid made her something else, right?”

“Charlie was so jealous,” Annabeth giggled. “Another Brit stealing his Juli’s attention.”

That made Malcolm smirk. 

Bianca had no idea who any of these people were. She felt a bit left out, and thought that perhaps, the Hunter’s tradition of staying well-away from the campers whenever they visited Camp wasn’t such a good idea, after all.

It wasn’t that they could gain much from Camp’s rumour mill, but it wasn’t very polite to have spent three days in a place and barely know four names! Besides, she wondered, would campers help Hunters and vice versa if the need arose? It didn’t seem likely. For all that she’d admired Zoë, Bianca thought Thalia was more likely to attempt some interactive activity between both groups that wasn’t bullying each other during Capture-the-Flag.

“Earth to Bianca?” 

Thalia snapped her fingers in front of Bianca’s face, making her jump.

“Don’t startle her!” Annabeth pushed Thalia’s hand away. “Sorry, we were saying we should’ve asked for some chicken wings or something, in case you didn’t like this.”

“We can make you something,” Malcolm offered. “There’s rice, pasta, some bacon… That’s about all we have, we haven’t gone shopping yet.”

“Come on,” Thalia said, standing up from where they’d been sitting cross-legged. “Clarisse said you were shit at cooking, I’ll make you something.”

“It’s okay,” Bianca said quickly. “I can eat things I don’t like. Like that coffee in New Mexico.”

Thalia made a disgusted face. “That shit tasted like dirt. Literally.” She shuddered. “But we were on a quest. Desperate times, and all that. No need to make you suffer unnecessarily now.”

She walked towards the kitchen with Bianca behind her.

She opened the fridge and hummed noncommittally. “They really don’t have shit here.”

Bianca sat awkwardly on a stool, her elbows on the kitchen island.

“You really don’t have to do anything for me,” she insisted. “I’m not very hungry anyway.”

“You’re never very hungry,” Thalia pointed out, as she put a couple of eggs to boil on the stove. “That’s not very healthy. Besides, we can talk while I make you a salad. They have some chicken in a tupperware, it doesn’t look like it’s gone bad.”

Bianca hoped Thalia wasn’t planning on food-poisoning her.

Thalia got a cutting board, some lettuce, and began chopping and putting the cut leaves in a little bowl.

“So,” she said, looking into Bianca’s eyes. “You’re my cousin…”

Bianca nodded, but remained quiet.

“When we go talk to Percy, that’ll be a real family reunion,” Thalia commented. “Minus your brother. But we’ll find him soon enough.”

“You sound very sure,” Bianca said. She felt anything but. Every day that passed was another day Nico spent alone, lost in a country he wasn’t familiar with.

Would she know if he died? 

The thought froze her heart for a second, but inexplicably, Bianca was sure Nico was alive. 

“He’s a Big Three Kid,” Thalia said, as if that explained everything. “We’re easy to find.”

“That isn’t good, is it?” Bianca asked. “Monsters will find him much more easily.”

Thalia hesitated for a second. “I ran away from home when I was ten. I was all right for a while. Him being young means monsters will have a harder time trying to find him. If anything, monsters became more of a pest after Camp sent somebody to find me!”

“What if Luke finds him?” 

It was a possibility that Chris Rodríguez had brought to her mind. Luke had tried to take them before. Luke, Kronos, whoever it was that gave the order. Would they leave them alone having failed to take them once? It seemed unlikely.

Thalia’s expression turned murderous. “Luke’s out of commission. Or, at least, he’s in no state to go fishing demigods off the wild.”

Bianca wasn’t so sure, but Thalia’s face warned her to stay silent. 

Thalia sighed, clearly trying to relax her features. “Even if grandfather’s side has him, we’ll get him back. Like we got Annabeth back.”

Bianca really hoped Nico didn’t have to go through all of that, he was upset about everything already, the last thing he needed was to add ‘kidnapping’ to the growing list of unfairness in his life.

“We’ll need to go to Camp,” Thalia told her. “The girls hate that place, so we’ll go by ourselves. Maybe take Percy if he’s up for a weekend trip.”

“Won’t Artemis mind that we go off like that?”

“Nah,” Thalia waved her hand, and a chunk of diced chicken flew into the air. “I don’t think so. She and Apollo are patrons of young children, she’ll understand not wanting to leave your brother out there on his own.”

“But my brother is a boy,” Bianca said. “Artemis doesn’t like boys.”

“I’m almost positive her issues begin when boys go through puberty,” Thalia said. “And we’re not asking her to find Nico. You’ll be doing all the work. Here, eat your salad,” she ordered, pushing the bowl towards Bianca and shoving a fork in it. 

She took the bowl and stared into the mix of chicken and vegetables. “Am I naïve to wish my father would help?”

Thalia’s face turned sympathetic. She took the jar with the eggs off the stove and leaned on the counter as she filled it with cold water to avoid burning her hands.

“I don’t think you’re naïve,” she said. “Though, perhaps a bit optimistic.”

Bianca thought she sounded bitter, which was apparently her default tone when talking about the Olympians. 

Thalia peeled the two eggs and threw them into Bianca’s bowl.

“Your father has helped,” she said, sounding a bit reluctant. “He’s sent his lieutenant to tell you to be in Chicago on the 21st.”

“That’s not help,” Bianca scoffed. “The Fury didn’t even say why.”

Thalia shrugged. “The gods are like that. Vague, condescending, generally annoying as fuck, and patronising to boot.”

They heard the drumming of distant thunder.

“Fuck’s sake, I wasn’t even saying names,” Thalia muttered. She plastered on a fake smile. “Excuse me, cousin of mine. I was wrong. The gods are lovely creatures, full of joy, generosity, and kindness.”

Thunder boomed again, sounding closer this time.

Thalia rolled her eyes. “I simply cannot win.”

Bianca searched for something to say to change the subject, else her cousin’s complaining would end with all of them blown to bits by lightning.

“Ludovica knows about me,” she said. 

Thalia frowned. “How?”

“I don’t know,” Bianca admitted.

“You did mention she might’ve known your family,” Thalia recalled. “Let’s do something. Eat your dinner, which I so lovingly made for you from Malcolm’s and Annabeth’s sad scraps of food. Afterwards, we’ll ask Malcolm for a computer and google your family. Ludovica can be there with us if you want. Maybe she’ll be able to answer questions the Internet can’t.”

Bianca took a deep breath, she felt a lump in her throat and an uncomfortable itch in her eyes.

Thalia raised an eyebrow, she looked utterly confused. “Why are you crying?”

To Bianca’s horror —and already hurt pride—, she burst into sobs.

“Because I lied to you for days,” she cried. “And you’re still being nice to me. And you don’t hate me even if my father tried to kill you and your friends. And because my brother might have been taken by the bad guys. And Chris Rodríguez’ mind is messed up. And because a computer can tell me of my family but I can’t remember them. And my father doesn’t want to see me anymore. And… And because of everything.”

Thalia put a firm hand on her shoulder, and let her cry until her sobs subsided and she could breathe normally again.

She let go and grabbed a paper tower from the roll on the counter. She handed it to Bianca, who took it gratefully.

“I’m sorry, your ladyship,” she said solemnly. “Not quite fit for a countess, but the silk handkerchiefs are all in the laundry.”

Bianca smiled and wiped her eyes  and nose with the rough paper.

“It feels nice to have a good cry, doesn’t it?” Thalia said. She didn’t look at Bianca with pity, which she appreciated greatly. “Wash your face in the guest bathroom, and let’s get back to the others. You’re not getting out of eating that salad.” She pushed Bianca lightly with her shoulder. “And try to relax. We’ll find solutions to all of that, I promise.”

Bianca thought that despite the tough exterior, and mightier-than-thou attitude she sometimes boasted, Thalia was much kinder than people gave her credit for. 

In one of her flash-memories Bianca recalled Gina Marlo, a girl a few years older whose sister was in Bianca’s class. Gina was the same: cool, edgy, no nonsense, yet there for her little sister to lean on in hard times.

Bianca wondered whether Thalia had learned how to be a big sister from her time with Annabeth, short as that may have been. With a pang, she realised she’d never be that kind of sister, after all, she’d already failed Nico when it mattered the most.

[aeoki]

Atlantis - Clown: Chapter 4

Location: ES Reception Room Characters: Touri, Eichi & Wataru Season: Autumn

Eichi: Z. K. Amano Hashidate and I are rare “friends who share the same position”.

You know how few of those “people” I have, don’t you?

You’re a superman, who has the ability to fly further and higher than ordinary people, after all.

Wataru: Indeed. How envious I am, Eichi.

Eichi: There’s no need for you to feel that way. I gave your four equal friends – You have the “Five Oddballs”, don’t you?

And I’m sure there’s another boy who’s desperately trying to catch up to you and be your equal, as well.

Wataru: I’d say those words right back at you. …Himegimi is always doing his best so that he can stand by your side.

Eichi: I know. But I’m not very patient. God was mean and didn’t give me a lot of “time”.

I’ve been feeling impatient and anxious recently. I want him to catch up to me already, but he is always behind.

But he would probably be angry if I were to go easy on him. I don’t want to be dishonest in my work.

He’s important to me. It might be presumptuous of me to say that at this point, but at the very least, I don’t want to betray him.

If I were to trample all over his heart, then I truly would have no right to live.

Wataru: Hehehe. You’ve led quite a shameful life, haven’t you, Eichi?

Then as your right-hand man, I shall be a bit of a busybody.

No. It has always been my job to train him with my spartan methods and raise him to be strong.

It’s been a while, but shall I train him with great fervour to the point he is exhausted and cannot cry or laugh? ♪

Eichi: What do you mean? He’s going through puberty – you shouldn’t do anything that could affect him in the future…

Wataru: I’ve just had an idea. It’s rare for me to do so in general, though.

Because it’s not something I’m used to, it’s possible a strange accident may occur… I think what one needs to grow is a rival he can work diligently together with.

Himegimi has a goal he must achieve.

But he is in “fine”, the strongest unit, so he didn’t have a rival of equal standing.

He seems to view “Trickstar” as his enemy – the one he lost to – but “Trickstar” typically treats Himegimi like a child.

They are definitely not equal rivals.

Eichi: “Trickstar” has a reputation for being unexpected, after all.

I had the same thought, so I’ve been pairing him up with appropriate opponents, such as Tsukasa-kun, every now and then.

I’d like him to be what Keito is to me.

But thinking back, I did enjoy fighting with Keito most of all, but… you do end up having to make adjustments someway or another.

We’re childhood friends. We don’t detest each other nor sincerely wish for the other to disappear off the face of the earth.

We’ll stop once we see blood has been shed. Even I cannot go all-out to thoroughly crush him.

Wataru: That’s where I show up. No, I shall play the role of the rival– no, the villain.

In that aspect, I have a feeling this Z. K. Amano Hashidate person is in a rather advantageous position, though.

After all, she is someone who rarely exists in this world – someone who is on equal grounds with you.

Eichi: Interesting. What will you do specifically, Wataru?

Wataru: Let’s see, I’d like to get our story straight but…

First, I’ll have you make full use of your power to transfer me, the “fake” Z. K. Amano Hashidate, to Yumenosaki Academy.

From there, I suppose I’ll deal with what comes afterwards through adlibs and other tricks. In the end, I’ll take the position of student council president that Himgimi desperately wishes to have…

Amano Hashidate (Wataru): (Ahh~... That’s right. Thinking back, that was something I had said in high spirits.)

(Things went exactly as planned. But even so, I never had any intention of driving Himegimi into the corner like this.)

(It’s also Eichi’s fault as he was enjoying it all and added a few things to the mix. But right now, Himegimi is facing a dilemma he never expected.)

(Well, I shouldn’t say that as if it has nothing to do with me, though.)

(When I came up with this “prank”, I didn’t think Himegimi would be so overwhelmed by it all.)

(Since then, ES couldn’t hide their ambitions and continued on their road to expansion…)

(“Project-ATLANTIS” was also something that existed before the anti-ES organisations emerged.)

(ES’ world conquest began after its establishment– no, it started before that…)

(Even now, it has not stopped. It’s continuing to trample over everything.)

(Himegimi got hurt within this “big wave” every so often. The result of that must have been his collapse during “SS”.)

(Right after that, I – or rather – the fake Z. K. Amano Hashidate is rubbing salt on his wounds.)

(Hmm, how horrible I am! The “Five Oddballs”! They’re such villains!)

(I don’t intend on hurting Himegimi… and there is no need to force myself to act as the villain. I could easily withdraw from this.)

(But I missed my chance in this chaos…)

(Right now, if Z. K. Amano Hashidate were to disappear right in front of him, then I will just be inflicting a sense of defeat onto Himegimi – one he shall never forget for life.)

(“Project-ATLANTIS” is also nowhere near completion. I cannot end my “act” here.)

(Oh, geez, whatever shall I do?)

(The best outcome would be Himegimi winning against me. It would be great if he can defeat his rival, and use this experience in his future endeavours to soar through even higher skies.)

(In order for that to happen, I could go easy on him to let him win on purpose… Just like how I did during that nostalgic performance – the final act that suppressed the “Five Oddballs”.)

(The allies of justice were exhausted, so as the villain, I purposefully stabbed them with the blade on their behalf.)

(I gave them words of encouragement and provoked them so that they could find their motivation.)

(But that is something so unsightly it’s something I still very much regret to this day.)

(If possible, I don’t want to put on such a deplorable performance ever again.)

(I’d love to put on an excellent performance – one where I’ve given my all and can look back on proudly…)

(Now then, how is my “little co-star” faring?)

Touri: …………

Amano Hashidate (Wataru): (Hehehe. Judging by the look on his face, he still has the will to fight – he has yet to break, I see.)

(If you were to be compared to how Eichi looked during the War, I’d say you look rather impressive, Himegimi ♪)

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ← Previous Chapter ᠂ ⚘ ˚⊹˚ ⚘ ᠂  Next Chapter →

[ghoulfriendfangs]

Febuwhump 23 - “Come Crawling Back”

Day Four: Knife to the Throat with Lucio

{WC: ~1,100} {Arcana spoilers, implied past relationship between Lucio and mc, mc is very mean to Lucio, violence}

@febuwhump

  “Now look,” Lucio began gently. He was pinned against the wall, squeezing to get away from the cold blade, “I know I’ve done a lot of no-nos, and I guess if I were to imagine myself in your shoes I would probably want to slit my throat too.”

  “…”

  You aren’t even sure where to begin with him, to be honest. Since he was exiled, you had fantasized about what you’d do if you ever saw him again. Punch his nose, break his ribs, maybe even find an untamed and ferocious beast and offer him as an appetizer.

  But something is stopping you from doing anything- besides keeping him pinned while you work through your feelings.

  “But there’s a lot of things you aren’t considering! For example, the fact that I really, really, really really really don’t want to die. Like, super badly.”

  …He’s lost weight since you’ve last seen him. He’s more gaunt, and fragile. His hair is disheveled, and graying, and the scraps of his royal attire are stained and torn by tree branches- or maybe claws. Is he still wearing them because he wants to cling to his memories of luxury and decadence? You decide that’s the case, because the alternative is him wandering the wilderness unable to even procure fresh clothes- and despite what he’s done to you you’d rather not visualize that.

  “…you shouldn’t have come back to Vesuvia. Do you not know what exile means?”

  “It means… get lost?”

  “It means, count, you have no sanctuary here- and that means that anybody can kill you and face no legal consequences. In fact, your grace, they’d be seen as doing this country a service.”

  “You’re being dramatic, it’s not like there’s a bounty on my head- o-or wanted posters… I didn’t, I didn’t see any on the way to your shop, at least.”

  You dig a bit harder- the knife is just a dull, kitchen knife, but it shocks you by drawing beads of blood- you didn’t intend to do that. You didn’t mean it. But didn’t you want to? Aren’t you angry with him? You died because of him. Your memory loss, everything your friends went through, it’s his fault. Don’t you want to hurt him more?

  His eyes are tiny, looking down at the blade in terror. His hand reaches to feel the little droplets of warm blood, and you do nothing to stop him.

  When he looks at you, you don’t see a murderer and a tyrant anymore. You see a scared vagabond with nothing to his name.

  “…are you going to kill me?”

  You back away so fast, he stumbles to the floor, onto his hands and knees. The knife clatters as it hits the floor. He doesn’t get up, just flinches at the terrible clatter it makes.

  The wind howls, shaking the walls of the shop.  The snow is piling now- you watch as the marks made by his heels are swallowed up by white nothingness. Anyone foolish enough to be out in this storm would be swallowed, too. Especially if they had no shelter to go to.

  Lucio looks up as you stomp over to him. He looks hopeful as you bend down, resting on one knee. Your eyes are just as cold and angry as when you saw him standing in your house, but there’s empathy in them.

  No, not empathy. Pity.

  “Asra is with his parents on a trip to Prakra, and Julian and Nadia are visiting Portia. Nobody is going to be here for a few days, and you should be kneeling and thanking the gods for it because it’s the only reason I’m not kicking you out in the storm.”

  Lucio will take pity over reprehension.

  “You’re here.”

  “Excuse me?”

  He gets to his knees- and you stand up, keeping your head above his.

  “Well, you’re here. Beats being alone- and I can be good company, too.”

  “Shut the fuck up, Lucio.”

  “Please- give me a chance!” He huffs. “I haven’t had a good conversation in…” he starts counting on his claw.

  You turn around, and start to clean for the evening. Extinguishing candles, wrapping herbs, you try to make it clear that you aren’t going to have chit chat with him. “You are staying downstairs, staying quiet, and leaving the moment the storm ends.”

  “H-hey, look at me! C-come on, I’ll even do your chores-“ he starts to haphazardly bundle herbs with no regard for variety or dosage.

  “This isn’t a Gods-damned sleepover. I’m not smuggling you out of the city, either- you’re on your own and if you get killed you get killed. You aren’t my problem anymore.”

  “Didn’t you once say I wasn’t a bad problem to have?”

  You stop cleaning, and instead your hands ball into fists.

  “Mmm- is your memory any better? Can you remember all the fun times we had before-… uhm, well, never mind how it ended- but remember the nights at the palace? The parties? …you were always my favorite guest of hono-“

  You smack him away as he tries to take your hand.

  “That was before I got to know you,” you hiss, and it cuts him deeper than he expected. Surely, of all people, you knew him best. He put on a mask around others, lived a life of excess and wealth… but hadn’t he shown you who he was under all that?

  “Do you know why I’m not going to hurt you, huh?” You ask. You blink back bitter tears of anger- and you hate that they’re even rising for someone you gave up on a long time ago. “Why are there no wanted posters for you? No bounty? Why we didn’t kill you back when we were fighting the devil because of you?”

  “…because deep down inside you still sense some good in me?”

  “Because you’re not even worth it!”

  …

  He looks down at the floor. He realizes that he’s tracked mud into your house.

  You keep waiting for another move from him, more begging and pleading to kiss his ass and hold his hand despite everything he’s done, but now Lucio won't even meet your gaze. You don’t feel satisfied, though. You don’t know if you feel sorry- maybe you wish he picked anyone else to come crawling back to than you.

  “Hey, uh…” you cough. “There’s food in the kitchen and… you can pick out new clothes- I’m spring cleaning anyway, so I don’t… I was just gonna give those away anyway- pick out whatever.”

  “…thanks.”

  “…well, goodnight. O-oh, that’s right, you can… the couch. Or the spare bedroom- whatever works really. I don’t care. I don’t mind.”

  “…I’m… I’m really sorry. For everything. You won’t ever believe it, but I really do mean it.”

  “Yeah. I know.”

  “…I’m sorry too.”

[awkwardwithapause261]

Spoilers for Interview with the Vampire episode 2 if you haven’t watched it.

I found it so comical that he was from the inside of his coffin “I don’t like sleeping angry.” and then lifting up the lid to see if Louis was paying attention because he didn’t respond.

I could talk about how dismissive Lestat was being throughout Louis’ near decade with him at this point about Louis’ unhappiness with being a vampire, but like that’s par for the course. That’s Lestat.

Might add more as it comes to me.

Not exactly episode 2 but I’mma say it anyways There’s a part in one of the trailers where Lestat says “She has poisoned you against me.” I assume the she is Claudia, but all I think is “No sweetie you’ve done that all by yourself.” Especially now that the real Lestat is coming out. I mean there were points in the first episode that Lestat was seen to be toxic and manipulative and dismissive of Louis’ emotions and mental state, but this is multiplied by like a lot.

Also it was like Lestat had lost his romantic luster for me. Which made me not like this episode as much as I did the first. Like I’m over here saying to Louis oh my god get the fuck away from him already.

I asked my sister whether Louis was talking about other vampire when he said he could stand out on his balcony and hear the thoughts of a brute from Madagascar. She said yes, but I was like why did Lestat say that vampires can’t read other vampires minds and her reply was because he’s an asshole liar and other vampires don’t like his ass.

There was a tone and body language and even the words itself that caused Louis’ reaction with the guy he was doing business with. Lestat didn’t get it in the moment he had to marinate in it.

I hope Louis washed up before getting into that coffin from pouring all that what look like milk on himself because I’m sure he’d start to stink along with all that burnt flesh. Lestat didn’t have to get bare butt ass naked he just did it to be petty.

When Lestat says I’m your family I was like but you’re horrible though.

I think Lestat heard Louis’ thoughts at the opera. Maybe about how Louis was having doubts about staying with Lestat because he was humiliated and looked over so much by Lestat so Lestat said what he had to however true it may be to get him to stay. Which is manipulative.

Lestat has no right to lecture Louis on his feeding habits because he himself was dropping bodies left and right when he first came to town. Sure they were probably people no one would miss but still that’s a lot of people for the authorities to consider it some sort of illness. Also figured out what the street light guy did to get himself killed he called Lestat the devil and we’ve seen how much he hates that.

I bet Louis is thinking I wish I had never taken that card from you. Because for me taking that card from him during that poker game was the beginning of their relationship.

So Lestat was lying when he said he liked mama du lac’s gumbo because from Louis we learn presumably everything a vampire eats that isn’t blood taste like paste and chalk.

Louis will never be able to share in Lestat’s world and Lestat will never be able to understand Louis’.

Also when they were at the opera and Lestat held out his hand for the folder of music while staring ahead face void of emotion. I saw what Louis meant when he said sometimes it feels like he’s his slave. Whether they were putting on a show of their own or not it was like he forgot that Louis was his companion. No amount of sweet words or small touches will make up for their dynamic within reputable society

Lestat looked like the headless horseman when he threw the blanket over his head.

You can see Grace’s opinion of Lestat and Louis change over time.

In episode one Lestat says all the roles you conform to and none your true nature when I’m over here saying what you saw of him on Liberty wasn’t his true nature either it was who he had to be to survive and you would know that because you can read minds even if you say you forget you can do that most times. And then in this episode he’s like embrace what you are you are a killer Louis and I’m like who says he has to be? You? Wasn’t the whole point of turning him was so that he wouldn’t have to conform to anyone else’s standards but his own?

Also I wonder if what Lestat says all human thoughts boil down to (I want food, I want sex, I want to go home) is what Louis’ thoughts boiled down to.

Or is Louis one of those exceptional people Lestat has a soft spot for being all that he is as a black man given the time (wealthy successful influential)

Is Lestat in some way fetishizing Louis if the above theory is correct by having Louis be his companion.

[pluviophile-imagines]

I posted 2,551 times in 2022

That's 1,767 more posts than 2021!

820 posts created (32%)

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Blogs I reblogged the most:

@petrichorium

@saintshigaraki

@shibaraki

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I tagged 2,366 of my posts in 2022

Only 7% of my posts had no tags

#let the rain kiss queue - 768 posts

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Longest Tag: 139 characters

#gagamaru likes crop tops n it’s definitely bc i put my hands on his stomach n back a lot when he wears them ♥️ & he loves when i do that ♥️

My Top Posts in 2022:

#4

you are, undoubtedly, not the only person whose blood boils at the mention of alhaitham, but you think you might be the person who gets under his skin the most.

he bickers with many of his fellow scholars, certainly, yet you can’t say anyone else makes him so angry he can’t even speak the common tongue. every time you storm off after an argument you leave him muttering angrily in some unknown language.

still, he enjoys provoking you, especially on occasions where you’ve become so lost in your work that you haven’t seen him in days. this time you’ve fallen down a rabbit hole researching an ancient language, one renowned for its prose and eloquence and, most interestingly to you, romantic confessions of love. it’s been nearly a week since you’ve encountered anyone but the librarians; the subject is fascinating.

you return to the library one morning, however, to find that he’s taken the very book you’d put on hold—using his position to undermine your claim—and though the bait is obvious, you still rise to it. the spat which ensues is predictable, fast-rising and heated within the span of a few words. it ends in the pair of you nose-to-nose with him holding the book up out of your reach and your finger prodding angrily at his chest. when you turn and storm off, he sinks back down into the chair you’d found him in.

this time, however, when he begins to curse you under his breath, you understand it.

and it makes you freeze.

you hadn’t realized until this moment but the very language you’d been researching is what he spits at you after every dispute. and now that you have researched, you realize that what he has been muttering under his breath for many months now is a bewildering kind of confession.

“you drive me insane,” he growls, only just loud enough for you to make out the words. there’s a temptation to dismiss it, vague as the accusation could be, yet the next statement is far less ambiguous as he mutters it beneath his breath. “i can barely think around you, you vexing, brilliant thing, yet when you’re gone i can’t stand it.”

it freezes you in your path. you straighten and whirl about, eyes wide, mind a blur of surprise and warmth blossoming in your chest. warmth, which only increases when you catch another grumbled sentence, spat out like the insults you thought he’d been calling you, accompanied by an icy glare down at the very book he’d stolen.

“one day,” he snarls, entirely oblivious to how you’ve caught on, “i’ll shut you up by kissing you.”

“do it, then,” you’re saying before you can stop yourself, the words rushing out more confident than you truly feel.

he startles, head snapping up to meet your gaze, eyes just slightly wide enough to betray what he’s feeling. “what?”

if you didn’t know him so well you might mistake the near-invisible expression on his face for one of anger, but it’s shock. fear, even, if the man before you is even capable of being afraid. he watches, frozen where he sits with book in hand, as you stalk back towards him until you’re even closer than before, up against his chair; until you push even further with a knee upon it, sinking the plush of the cushion between his thighs.

leaning down is the obvious next step, bracing yourself on the arms of his chair, each hand a hairsbreadth away from brushing his forearms. looming over him like this is an odd kind of invigorating—he’s so tall and broad that this position is perhaps the only one that would allow it. and he stares up at you, somehow seeming even more frozen in place, that nearly imperceptible emotion on his face sliding smoothly into something you might be so bold as to call enrapture.

“kiss me. shut me up.” you cock your head and watch those striking eyes drop to your lips just as you add a final word, goading: “coward.”

a bulky arm slings itself around your waist, tugging you down roughly onto his lap and knocking that damned book from its perch. his lips are on yours before it can hit the ground.

928 notes - Posted November 16, 2022

#3

Sleeping in the Garden: Part I

981 notes - Posted August 27, 2022

#2

pantalone who finds you’ve inherited your parents’ bakery—a quaint little thing, always struggling yet, having been in your family for generations, unable to be parted with. you’re a childhood friend, the weary ghost of a kind face who used to pass him warm bread bundled up in coarse muslin, daughter of a family with so very little who still gave what she could to the boy who had even less.

the first time he enters you put it all together. you’ve always been a clever one, and the way your eyes light up with recognition as you greet him has him recalling just how fond he’d been of you in his youth. the warmth of your bread and the warmth of your smile are cut from the same cloth. he gives you all the mora he has on hand that first visit, more the next, and comes to bring along all manner of priceless gems and opulent jewelry to gift you if only just to watch your eyes widen in awe and then dart up to stare at him in doe-like astonishment.

(he finds himself disappointed whenever he returns to see your flour-covered apron the only adornment on your person, though he knows how foolish it’d be for you to wear his gifts openly, practically begging for trouble)

you always say he gives you too much. you ask how many times you have to tell him he’s repaid whatever he thinks he owes tenfold. he reaches out to brush soft, cold knuckles against your cheek and give you an indulgent smile as he replies, at least once more.

you’ve certainly come to understand it’s never been about paying you back. someday soon, he thinks you know, he will no longer be satisfied by mere pastries and the brushing of knuckles.

someday soon he’ll no longer be able to ignore his desire to see you in his bed draped in every lavish token of his affection he could possibly dream up.

1,909 notes - Posted July 11, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Katsuki calls you when he leaves work every day.

When you started dating him that was the deal. He risks his life constantly; there’s no assurance ever that he’ll return home to you. So even now, years after the tradition began, now that the pair of you wear matching rings on your fingers and the bed he stumbles into each night is the very one you occupy, he still calls.

It’s never anything substantial. Sometimes it’s quick, barely a minute long, a quiet greeting and a simple home soon before he hangs up to change out of his uniform. Sometimes you stay on the phone for an hour; talking about your days as you both commute, planning dinner, discussing your upcoming visit to his parents over the weekend. More often than not it’s at 5:00 almost to the minute—he scarcely likes to dawdle, preferring instead to end the work day and have dinner with you regularly—and you typically know ahead of time when he’ll be working late.

Of course, there is a downside. On the rare (very rare) occasions when you don’t get that call, it makes you panic.

He calls you a dumbass every time, rolls his eyes and scoffs, yet he always holds you tighter afterwards. There is always food in his hands when he opens the door, shoved into yours in silent apology. You always catch him as he’s drifting off, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck and promising that he’ll always come home safe.

You’re certain that’s what will happen tonight when you don’t get your call at five.

You’re still pretty certain he’s okay at 5:30. You text him a photo of the meal you’ve made, the two place settings, with a caption telling him not to let it go cold.

By the time 8:00 rolls around you’re worried. That’s bedtime—he’d never voluntarily miss it. Yet you assure yourself by turning on the news, aware that if pro hero Dynamight had fallen to a villain or been crushed by a collapsing building it would be talked about and nothing of note was being said. He typically told you when he was going out on more secretive missions, too; not directly, but subtly. He’d implied nothing of the sort today. He’d likely just been dragged out to some bar by his high school friends, the only people able to do it. He’ll come stomping through the door at midnight smelling like booze but stone sober, and you’ll shove him into the shower and sit on the sink while he bitches about Denki and Mina and Hanta with affection in his voice. Yeah, that’s it.

9:00

10:00

11:00.

You’re still in your work clothes, you realize, yet it’s far too late now to change. The lights are off in the living room save for the multicolored display of the television, which you keep on out of a sinking feeling that any moment your fears will be confirmed. An image is ingrained in your mind: his body, broken and bloody. Lifeless.

You wonder what villain could have taken down Katsuki. You think they’d have to be terrifyingly strong to even stand a chance, and still have to play dirty to win. Maybe they’d looked like someone he knew—Izuku or Eijiro, or maybe even you. He’d have gotten a shock from that, a villain strong enough to harm him would have only needed that chance. Or perhaps it had been a building, perhaps he’d charged in after hearing an old lady calling for help. Foolhardy heroics had always been Deku’s thing yet your husband could get caught up in it at times. You blame their shared mentor. All Might had more than enough to spare.

Katsuki would chide you for staying up so late, especially on a work night. He’d take one look at the clock on the wall and bark at you to go to bed, never mind that he could be dying in an alleyway or bleeding out on some rooftop. He’d drag you to the bathroom to wash your face. You wish he were here to do it. Your conjured version isn’t persuasive enough.

But then you get a call. It’s 1:34 in the morning. You’re on the couch, curled up in the corner with the cat pressed into your side and a blanket thrown over your legs, staring sightlessly at the news half dozing off. Your phone is on the coffee table in front of you, and it startles you awake when it buzzes.

You lunge for it, too relieved upon seeing the contact on the screen to care about the sound of your cat scrambling off into some safe corner of the apartment. It’s Katsuki. His name is like a beacon of hope as you press accept, as tears spring to your eyes and your thumb shakes just barely. You can already hear his gruff voice calling you a dumbass for being so worked up, the offended tone as he asks you if you have any faith in him at all.

Except it’s not Katsuki on the other side of the line, not this time.

It’s Deku.

2,284 notes - Posted March 12, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[camaro-hargrove]

Goodbye Note

word count: 1.2k

tw: major character death

-

Dear Max,

I’m not really sure why I’m writing to you but I think it’s because you’re the only person left who cares about me. I mean, you’re the only person that I care about anymore.

If you’re reading this then I’m dead and I’m sorry you have to find out this way. Or I’m sorry that you saw this after. Either way I’m sorry.

I’m sorry for everything else too. Really. I never wanted to be the bad guy but it was in my blood. There wasn’t any escaping it and I took it out on you and for that I will always be sorry.

I can say it wasn’t my fault, the way I treated you but that would be a lie. It is my fault, I know it is. I could say that I was frustrated, but I was angry, but you weren’t listening and it’s all true but it was never your fault. It wasn’t ever your fault even if I wanted to make it yours.

There were times when I felt like we really were brother and sister, like we weren’t forced to be siblings because of our parents. Because you were like me, you’re rebellious and you don’t care what people think of you and you’re brave and loud and you stood up for yourself.

I liked it when you talked back and were able to match me in things we did, when we would race on our skateboards at the park or you would teach me to play one of the arcade games down at the pier.

I could go on and on about everything that led to this moment but it’ll be too long. There are so many things that went into this and Max? I’m tired, I’m so tired. I just want to rest.

Stay fierce, Mad Max

Billy

Dear Max,

I’ve started this letter a million times and still can’t find the right things to say. It’s March 30th, 1982 and you’re fast asleep in your room. I can hear Susan and my dad walking around in the kitchen and I am writing this from the bathroom floor.

I chickened out the last time. Didn’t even give you the letter so now it’s just in a draw just in case. But it’s been a few years so I thought I should write another one.

If I thought last time was bad then this is so much worse. I’m sorry that it got this bad. But it should be better soon.

My skateboard is in the back of my wardrobe, it’s yours now. Billy

Dear Max,

I wish you knew how much I loved you. I wish I could have told you but things like that have never come easy to me.

Sometimes you wished I was dead, I can tell and I don’t blame you. A lot of people do so tonight, this is my gift to you.

Billy

Dear Max,

That last letter was mean, I’m sorry. Sometimes I do things without thinking as I’m sure you’ve noticed.

By the time you finish reading this I will be dead. I can’t keep going on. I don’t know what to do anymore.

Maybe it’s this town, maybe it’s me, I don’t know but I can’t keep going. I’m so tired of living because I don’t really feel like I am half the time. I feel like I’m on autopilot and don’t feel like myself anymore.

My body will be at the quarry, don’t go look yourself.

Billy

Dear Max,

Something is wrong with me. I don’t know what happened but something is deeply wrong with me and it’s out of my control. Maybe it’s still the town and it’s still me but something happened to me and I’m not sure if I believe it myself.

I was in a car accident three days ago, I think. I’m not sure what day it is anymore because I keep losing time. I keep blacking out and finding myself in different places. I think this is it, I’ve well and truly lost my mind.

My dad always said there was something wrong with me. There was something wrong with my mother and she passed it down to me. She heard voices and she did things without knowing why and now it’s happening to me. Max, I’m so scared and no one is listening to me.

I think I’ve hurt people. I know I’ve hurt people in the past, hurt you in the past but now I think I’ve killed people and I don’t even really remember doing it. It’s like I’m watching my body do things without me even there.

I don’t really know how to explain it.

I hope you forgive me for everything I’ve done but I understand if you don’t. Just be careful because once I’m gone it will be you and Susan with my dad and I don’t know when he’ll start doing what he did to me to you. Run away if you need to, I wish I was able to.

Love you

Billy

-

It takes Max a while to find the letters. Each one with Billy’s surprising neat handwriting, some with a smudge because he was left handed and bitched about it all the time. She was surprised to find them in the first place, much less so many of them dated over the years.

She takes them back to her room where she was packing everything up so they could move into their new trailer. She never knew Billy was struggling this badly, he never let anything show.

She reads the first one and it must’ve been from the first year they had met. Billy was the one who taught her how to skateboard and laughed at her when she’d fall. She was the one who taught Billy how to play some of the video games down at the pier. They had a good system in place and more importantly, they got along.

But then Billy got older and so did she. Billy got angrier and started leaving her behind and she didn’t know what she did wrong. So she complained to her mom about Billy being mean, about Billy not wanting her to touch his things and not wanting her to hang around him while he’s with his friends.

She must have told Neil, she realises now.

The last one makes her the saddest when she realises that Billy thought he was going crazy like his mom did. That he had the same illness she did and she can’t go and tell him otherwise, that he wasn’t sick, he was possessed.

She’s standing at his grave, the one with the ‘gone but not forgotten’ etched on the bottom in this shithole of a town that Billy hated with every fibre of his body and thinks it’s a bullshit quote. Everyone’s forgotten about him, his Dad bailed the second he could and it was like one last punch in the gut for Billy. Leaving him dead and alone in a town he hates.

“You okay?” Lucas asks

Billy has wanted to die for a really long time, she wants to say. He wrote letters to me from ages ago saying where to find his body. I think he’s finally at peace in a weird morbid way.

“Yeah” Max shakes her head and places the flowers down at his grave. “Let’s go.