#and yeah this is totally cause i haven’t drawn in a hot minute and have no new art to post lmao

[carpetbug]

my first ml fanart from april 2020 :)

[wincore]

atlas | kim dongyoung

pairing: doyoung x reader

words: 15.4k

summary: kim doyoung has a lot of titles. student body president, music club president, favourite student of every professor who’s blessed enough to have him. in other words, he’s not your type and never will be. at least he’s a good kisser.

or, you feel the weight of the world on your shoulders and you do not know how to hold things as delicate as glass.

genre: college au, fwb au, hurt/comfort, angst, some fluff 

warnings: very suggestive content, making out, language, smoking, alcohol, mentions of sex under influence, me being pretentious,,

prompt: anonymous said: slippery + doyoung + "you can rely on me, you know." from the first dialogue link! LOVE YOU ❤️

song rec(s): playlist here !

a/n: yes it’s me experimenting out of my comfort zone again. yes you are required by law to listen to keshi while reading this hahahaha anyway writing this was painful. <3 (aka today i tried writing very complex human emotions and failed again. classic.)

In the beginning, there was no beginning. Ergo, this isn’t really a thing.

You shouldn’t be thinking of summer in Introduction to Latin. You are a good (perhaps great, if your ego allows) student after all. Here you are, though, listening to the ticking of the clock and wondering if you sigh loud enough, you won’t have to construct another sentence with the word for ‘death’. You pause to tell yourself that you shouldn’t be thinking of summer out of class either. Unremarkable; that's what it was and you don’t like unremarkable things.

When two people end up alone together, there’s not much to make of. 

“You know,” he had said, locking eyes. “We should get out of here.”

“And then what?”

“Fuck.”

So here’s the thing: this isn’t and won’t be a thing.

Doyoung has never been subtle when drunk, you found out, and he’s not as gentle as he looks. You flip the page of your notebook absentmindedly. You don’t like where your thoughts are going; the clinking of ice against glass rings in your ears again. It’s been far too long (one whole month) and you’re craving a bit of fun. You may forget yourself but you’re reaching your fingertips a little too far to call him again. More excuses pop up. See, in your world of perfection, there’s a hierarchy of things; men rank rather low. 

(Fun doesn’t.)

Here’s another thing: you forget yourself quite often. You know very well that you’re the one who continued this not-thing and now you’re daydreaming of Kim Doyoung in class hours. 

And under grey bed sheets with a tired smile, Doyoung is hard to forget. 

It was a party, it always is. That time, however, was the first party of the year Doyoung and you happened to be attending at the same time. You can’t remember who hosted it—the frat probably—but it was at a bar called the ‘The Meeting Place’ which had too many people you didn’t care about. Doyoung was there, in his laid-back glory, and you were drawn in far too easily. Being single did not help your case—and the alcohol certainly didn’t. You’re not sure if it was the gentle touches against your wrist or quick words that left his mouth or the attractive all-black get-up. All you know is that it was your mouth against his by the end of the night in a small booth, hot and impatient. Once, twice, thrice and you didn’t even need parties anymore. 

It’s not like you weren’t aware of what you were doing; it’s just that you were quick to give in—like you didn’t want to resist in the first place. And now, summer smells like Doyoung’s perfume. 

The first night had given Mr. Student Body President a near-stroke. You weren’t the type to sleep with strange (semi-acquainted) men at parties either so the morning had been full of awkward explanations to each other till you’d kissed him to shut him up (much like in a disgusting romantic comedy, minus the feelings) and somehow, it worked. He didn’t refuse and if you recall, he’d eventually pulled you closer by the waist.

You huff, twirling your pen. He’d never admit it.

You didn’t kiss so sloppily after that, unless it was to make out against a wall or while fumbling with the keys to your apartment. The lack of alcohol can bring wonders. You were a little surprised that he’d agreed—he is the Doyoung you’ve known since freshman year after all; blunt, rude, cares more for his grades than he’d ever for you. How laughable. He’s almost the same as you.

Here’s one last thing: Kim Doyoung is not and cannot be your type. 

You had the same part-time job in your second semester at a local fast food joint, and to summarize, your interactions were less than friendly. You can’t possibly count the number of times he yelled at you for trivial mistakes, and the number of times you sent angry, clipped sentences his way. So, yes, neither of you have told anyone—just acting friendly got you enough eyebrow raises.  If there’s anything worse than contradicting yourself almost directly, it’s having to explain that to your friends. So, you kept it a secret and so did he, for his own reasons.

You massage your forehead. If you think any more of this during class hours, you’re going to have to classify this as a terrible, terrible problem; like you don’t have enough already. You tune in to the lecture again, hoping it drowns out the rest of your thoughts. 

You tap your pen against the desk till you’re asked to stop by the professor. There goes your last resort. It isn’t the first time, but you breathe a sigh of relief at the hands of the clock. Casual means casual—you know it better than anyone. Maybe it would be easier if you could be more open about it. But you can’t. Your own problems aside, Doyoung would kill you if his reputation went down, even a nick. Men like that are so difficult, you curse to yourself. 

You run into Ten in the hallways, brightening at his absurdly wide grin. In fact, you haven’t seen him remotely upset since freshman year, when he couldn’t join the dance club, not because he failed the audition but because he mixed up the dates and missed it entirely. (It’s okay; he got in the next year.)

“Guess what!” he yells before you’re even in conversation range.

“What?” you yell back.

“No, guess,” he says, when you’re close enough.

You roll your eyes. “You scored a date?”

Ten deadpans. “No. I don’t even want one.”

“Loser.”

“No, you.”

“How clever.”

Ten flicks your forehead with no provocation whatsoever, making you yelp in pain. After a minute of cursing on your part, he squishes your cheeks to bring you back to reality—like he wasn’t the cause. You bite your lip to keep yourself from scowling. His hair is still light brown from the bleach, and you fix his bangs out of habit; your dumb friends are all you have at the end of the day. You sigh. They all lean on you unwittingly.

“Anyway, the news? I’m not guessing anything else,” you warn, taking a sip of your coffee.

“Well,” he draws out the syllable. “I heard- know you’re into the smart type. You know, student council kinda guys? So…”

You choke, the coffee leaving your mouth just as quick as it entered.

“Who told you that?” The laugh that leaves your mouth is forced and certainly fake but it’s the best you can do.

Ten rolls her eyes, still smiling. “I was thinking if you would be interested in a certain Park Hyungmin.”

Oh. Student body vice-president. He’s most definitely your type, with a gifted body and equally strong academic prowess—not to mention perfectly maintained tan skin and the most radiant smile you’ve ever seen in your life. 

“Oh, yeah, he’s hot,” you nod in agreement. “What do you want me to do with him?”

“He likes you. Like, totally has the hots for you. And I owe him so please help me out here.”

You furrow your brows, heaving a deep sigh.

“You...want me to go on a date with him?” you ask. 

You can oblige. Park Hyungmin is the hottest dude on campus (probably). It’s a win-win situation—in fact, it’s even better. A certain bitter taste finds itself in your mouth. It must be the coffee. You swallow it. 

“Yeah.”

And the deal’s done.

It was casual commitment, like most things you do for fun. You don’t think much of it, and the thought takes its final bow when you run into Doyoung himself.

Well, sort of.

You turn heel when he appears in your line of sight, pretending to fix your hair against a damn wall. You aren’t quite ready to face him yet, considering the coffee hasn’t kicked in—it’s not healthy how much you depend on it. Dependence is different, however, from consciously drowning yourself in it. 

See, Doyoung is anything but tolerable without a few shots of vodka. Or after sex. Or when he’s mumbling in his sleep. And you can’t erase any of those scenes. This is you trying to save yourself (and Doyoung) from embarrassment and a whole lot of explanation.

His coat looks expensive and you’d rather he had it on instead of on his arm. The tucked-in sweater and pants combo accentuates the line of his waist and the colour—you wonder where he found a teal so fitting—looks serene in the crowd. He’s wearing his glasses though, looking a little less put together than usual. Still, no one seems to notice and he continues to explain something to his group of friends.

God forbid you find Doyoung attractive during daytime.

His lips are chapped but pink as ever, the hair messed up by either the wind or his friends—you should stop staring by now. You give in. You’ll text him to book a hotel room tonight.

Sometimes you wonder how he has that large a friend circle, and always, the question answers itself. Eloquence, wit and regrettably, good looks—what does he lack? Maybe if he lost the habit to nag people around fifty-six times a day, he’d be the perfect man.  

An arm slings over your shoulder, punting the soul right out of your body.

“Fuck, Johnny, don’t do that,” you hiss, placing your hand over your chest involuntarily. 

The head of the photography club apparently spends his time terrorizing everyone he remotely knows. You make a foul expression but iIt’s not like he ever minds your scowling. He says he’s had enough practice from teasing Doyoung (and you’ll admit, it’s the only time you feel sorry for him). You were certain Doyoung would have filed him for harassment sometime in sophomore year. 

“What are you even looking at?” Johnny asks, raising an eyebrow at the plain offwhite expanse of the wall in front of you.

You feel hot at the neck. “I was fixing my hair.”

“In front of a wall?”

You click your tongue. “Do you not have class?”

“Oh, don’t be so quick to send me off.” He places a hand over his chest in mock hurt, fingers stretched delicately. 

To your dismay, the rest of his friends gather around giving you happy greetings—greetings only carefree college boys are capable of delivering. To your further dismay, Kim Doyoung arches an eyebrow at you, the same way he does on nights you’re doing things less than appropriate to think of in broad daylight.

“Hey, Doyoung, don’t you have anything to say? Or were you too drunk to remember?”

You bite down on your lip a little too hard. Doyoung, on the other hand, looks like he’s just seen God, stammering out a “what?” nevertheless.

“Weren’t you supposed to buy (name) a drink for driving you home that night?”

“Right,” he says, clearing his throat.

Oh, he’s bought you a drink enough times. Summer has waned but whatever thread you tied around your wrists hasn’t. Right now, your guess is that Doyoung has been ensnared in the common ritual for college boys to walk around campus and declare their friend is single just to embarrass him (or by some miracle, score him a date).

Everything, apart from the way you look at Doyoung, feels like a charade. You shake your head with a quick laugh, smacking Johnny in the arm and pay your condolences to Doyoung—keep it light. You’re good at it, or pretending you’re good at it, at the very least.

Doyoung’s gaze on you lingers for a moment and then you breathe. You’re going to be late for class—you offer the classic excuse and you’re out of there. In a way, it’s exciting. You’ve always wanted to have a secret relationship, even if this isn’t a real one. 

Doyoung is like the summer breeze, and you’d like for him to stay that way.

The next time you grace each other’s presence is when Doyoung’s tongue is in your mouth and his hands are running up under your shirt. 

He’s quite a pretty sight—messy hair, red lips and rosy cheeks. He moans into the kiss as he has quite a few times now and there’s the lovers’ high running through either of your minds. When he presses his lips to your neck, a soft restrained sound escapes you, not quite prepared for the sting of electricity through your skin. He moves to your collarbone and shoulders and then even lower, hands gripping your waist tight. The walls do not have ears here; these hotels are cheap but they’re built for privacy and maybe you’ll let yourself believe for once that you can belong to someone.

“Why did you text me in the middle of the goddamn night?” he mutters against the base of your neck.

“You want reasons now?” you whisper, hands running through his hair.

Doyoung has pretty fingers, pressing at the right places and prettier eyes that look at you with something akin to, dare you say it, love. He kisses you like he hasn’t had enough; and it makes you feel important.

He’s even better when he’s annoyed.

You wake up at around five in the morning. Propping yourself up on one arm, you take a moment to look at your partner. It’s easy to make out the line of his nose against the pillow, and if you focus, you can see his lashes against his cheek and his dark mop of hair clinging to his forehead. However gentle the moonlight is, it is kindest on a lover. 

Funny.

Too tired to sneak out, you go back to sleep.

“All I’m saying is that you have too much coffee,” Doyoung complains, slipping on his loose black sweatshirt. “It can’t be good for your health.”

You shake your head, scrolling through your phone as you lay on your belly. You’ve seen this view enough times—his back to you and sitting at the opposite edge of the bed, his incessant complaints and opinions about something that happened recently, running his hand through his hair when he sighs. You press on the calendar app and type in a note labeled ‘x’. Keeping tabs isn’t a bad thing; especially if you like order. Spending too many nights with someone is going to land you in trouble. That said, if you could trap love in a bottle, you would.

“You taste like coffee,” Doyoung adds with reddening ears.

Sometimes, it’s easy to ignore what he says if you listen to the sound of his voice instead. You sit up, scooting closer as Doyoung shoots you an alarmed look. He’s so cute like this; something about all the painted fences he puts up around him makes you want to lean in closer.

“So,” you poke his side. “How many relationships have you been in? Proper ones.”

“Three,” he answers, to your surprise.

Your eyebrows shoot up. “That’s more than I’ve been in!”

Doyoung furrows his. “How many have you been in?”

“One.”

He seems equally surprised but doesn’t probe further. After all, the price sticker that spells ‘youth’ clings to his forehead just as it clings to yours. 

“How many people have you fucked?” you ask suddenly, enjoying the visible flush across his neck.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” he notes, flicking your forehead.

“Ow!” You place your palm against your forehead. “Okay, I get it, you have nothing to brag about.”

He shakes his head, an exasperated sigh leaving him. “I just don’t think you have to know. I like privacy.”

“Wait.” You gasp. “Don’t tell me- That night- don’t tell me you were a virgin—”

Doyoung squishes your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, a laugh erupting from your mouth. 

“Who’s a virgin?”

Nothing about this, you find yourself realizing, is complicated. It’s easy, gentle, natural, like a breath of fresh air—everything but complicated. Even under dim lights and within the depths of night, Doyoung is warm and uncomplicated. His chest, his hands, his lips—they are warm, as are his words. 

But Doyoung is a fucking fairytale.  

Even after these few months, all you know about him, in the definitive format, is that he plays the keys for more hours than he sleeps. What he does for fun, what his classes are, how he became student body president—you could play guessing games all night.

“Do your friends know where you spend your nights?” you ask, leaning back against the pillows.

“They know what I’m doing, not who I’m with,” he responds, running his fingers through his hair.

You purse your lips. It’s nothing hurtful but you don’t like the hush-hush in his tone.

“Why not?”

“Because this is a secret,” he responds as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Do you want them to know?”

He’s right.

“Ah, whatever,” you mutter, a stream of curses following when your elbow collides hard with the edge of the bedside table. 

“Your mouth is filthy.” He looks away to his phone. “I don’t swear as much.”

“Well, of course it is. I had your—”

Doyoung presses his palm against your lips with a tired sigh. “Please. Don’t speak. For the sake of my sanity.”

You smile under his hand and he returns it; and the November morning warms up.

“Where were you last night?”

You were expecting the question. Areum is the worst possible candidate for a roommate if you want some privacy. You don’t think she ever sleeps; sometimes, you wonder if she even showers because all she does is stare at her laptop screen and adjust her designs. Her lips are always chapped and her hair is always in a simple low ponytail but somehow still messy. You’ve never met someone so exhausted yet so full of life at the same time.

“Who were you with last night?” Eunji yells from the bathroom, before the two of them laugh.

You knew you shouldn’t have stayed the morning. You have the nosiest roommates anyone could (not) ask for. But they’re still your friends, you tell yourself begrudgingly. You would tell them about Doyoung if it weren’t for Eunji’s big mouth and Areum’s lack of common sense. And if it weren’t for the inherent comfort of privacy.

(Some part of you wants to keep him to yourself. You don’t care about student council president Doyoung or his friend group’s everything-regulator Doyoung or always-has-his-shit-together Doyoung. The one in your bed is the most loving.)

Areum adjusts her glasses, narrowing her eyes at you. “So? Any answer?”

You break out of your daydream at her voice, feeling a flush creep up your neck.

“I don’t have to explain anything,” you retort, snatching the coffee she brewed from the tabletop. “It was a Friday night and the two of you like Netflix more than me.”

“That’s mine,” Areum mumbles out a weak complaint.

“But don’t go out alone,” Eunji whines. “It can’t be safe.”

You laugh. “You know me. I don’t do anything too dangerous. Besides, you guys have that tracker app.”

They shrug, offering you a thin smile. A part of you is happy that they trust you but another part wonders what it would be like to be worried over. Maybe getting nagged isn’t so bad. 

You take a sip of Areum’s coffee and almost spit it out right back. 

“Did you add salt?” you ask, wiping at your mouth and hoping the taste disappears.

“Uh.” A reply so intelligent, you wonder if she ever pays attention to anything she's doing. 

You take a moment (a few), sigh (several times) and make your way to the shelves. Grumbling, you make her a proper cup of coffee before you leave.

Classes don’t wait for you (even if you think they should) and the world doesn’t wait for you (again, you think it should wait for people) so you’ve made it a point to understand the whole deal about rules. If everyone followed the rules, it would be quite a pretty scene; messing up is only valid if it’s done prettily. You laugh at the thought. That’s near impossible. The bus ride to the campus consists of music and thoughts of bleak tomorrows—an average commute for college kids, you think. You sure hope you aren’t alone in this.

Doyoung smiles at you in the hallway today, and despite your best efforts, it makes your day smell a little fresher.

Your day: classes, coffee break, classes, complaining with Ten, assignments, ‘me’ time. For someone who pretends to be laid back, you use your planner as though for survival. There’s no sticky notes or colourful sketches (except on occasion); just good old fashioned to-do lists and a calendar marked with time you’ve spent on productivity. Every day is a list to be completed. If people call routine a man-made cage, instinct is the biological cage. You’d rather be in control of the cage you’re in. You’d rather be in control of yourself. It’s scary otherwise.

So you know how to get the job done—it’s ingrained into you the same way you would place your hands over your ears at loud sounds, or the way you would run to your bed in the dark after switching off the lights.

It never occurs to you that the reason your world is so perfect is a sad one.

Sometime next month, it’s going to snow. Not yet though, and it’s still too cold.

The inside of the cafe helps the slightest, the heaters situated far back from where you sit. Christmas decorations are up already and the combination of red and green meshes delightfully into the form of an aching headache. The wood paneling on the walls are worn at the corners, the garlands hardly covering them, and the barista behind the counter seems as gloomy as the decorations are bright. You wouldn’t be noticing all of this if you weren’t stuck in one position.

You lean your cheek further into your palm and sigh, only this time Ten asks you to, quote, ‘shut the fuck up’.

He pulls up his sleeve and reaches for another pencil. His cryptic process continues, as it has been for the past half an hour and you feel yourself getting impatient, trying to not bounce your leg and get another bout of quibbling from your half-mad artist friend. You don’t usually run low on patience; but Ten has a special pass to test drive it.

“How much lon—”

“Shh!” He hushes you quickly. You can’t remember why you agreed to being his portrait study subject but you sure as hell regret it.

Around fifteen minutes later, you take a (permitted) breath. You have neither the energy nor the neck strength to glare at Ten but you make sure to show your displeasure by snatching the cookies from the table with a particularly sour look. He gets up and pushes you to the side of the small worn-out couch offered by the equally small booth.

“God, that chair was uncomfortable. My butt is frozen solid,” he lets you know, and you roll your eyes.

“You know, if we weren’t friends in high school, I would never be friends with you,” you state.

Ten tilts his head to the side, a mocking pout over his lips. “I would die without you, (name). Really.”

You smack his arm and he yelps, smacking your arm right back. The sound attracts some attention and giggles, and you make a gagging gesture to let them know you are in way or form in a relationship. The low-volume music changes to something with a more distinguishable beat, the sound of doors opening and closing almost every two minutes accompanying. Arriving on time is an accomplishment, especially arriving before rush hour on Fridays at the only decent cafe on campus, but both of your classes end early and there is no way you aren’t taking advantage of that. Leaving, however, is mostly done when you’re being glared at by the waiters and waitresses.

“Doyoung asked about you,” Ten says, all of a sudden. “Kim Doyoung.”

You try to not show concern, but raise an eyebrow. “What? So? He’s not my type or anything.”

You bite your tongue. That was too quick a response, too obvious. Your cheeks grow hot. Ten doesn't say anything, however, and for a moment, you think you’re in safe waters. 

“Are you guys… into each other or not?”

You cough, trying to show your surprise at something so outrageous. “Why would you think that? Does he look like someone who dates around?”

“Actually, he’s been on quite a few dates.”

“No way.”

You know that. He’s told you about it before, in vague references, but you know about them nonetheless.

“Isn’t one student council guy enough?” you mumble. “Why are we talking about Doyoung?”

He shrugs, a familiar feline smile on his face. “Just asking. He talks about you sometimes. Actually, we forced it out of him but whatever.”

You shake your head. “You’re all terrible.”

“You seem to like him though.”

“Who said that?”

Ten sighs, ignoring your question. “If you guys are dating—”

“We’re not.”

“—or fucking—”

“Ten.”

“—you should learn a thing or two about him. The guy’s not as annoying as he looks. Or stuck-up. He’s really nice but don’t tell him I said that.”

“I know that,” you snap, feeling warm at the neck all of a sudden. “I know him.”

“Oh, you do? Tell me what his hobbies are then. Or his major. Or the clubs he’s in, apart from the student council.”

“He- He likes to sing and he’s- he’s—god, what is this? An interrogation? I’m not going to meet his mom for dinner.”

Ten gives you an ‘I knew it’ look before leaning his elbow onto the table. “You’re sleeping with a guy you don’t know anything about. Serial killers would love you.”

You massage your forehead. “Look, I know he’s a good guy, okay? And he’s sweet- and- and—wait a minute. Oh my god, you tricked me.”

Ten lets out a snort. “Hey. Okay, look, the other guys might be dumb as shit but I have, you know, a working set of eyes. I can tell. It’s not that hard.”

You grumble but the cat’s out of the bag anyway. You should’ve known Ten would figure it out—he’s a nosy little shit, and he’s been that way since high school.

“Whatever. As long as Doyoung doesn’t start panicking about his tarnished reputation or whatever.”

“Oh, I think he’s desperate to let everyone know.”

“To you, Ten, everything seems obvious. It’s annoying.” You mess up his hair.

“No, I mean, I thought you were dating.”

“Well, we’re not.”

Ten shrugs. 

“And I don’t like him,” you add. “I like the- the thing that’s going on because there’s no feelings attached.”

He looks somewhat pained, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed, but doesn’t respond to your explanation. “Can I ask for a favour?”

“No.”

Ten sighs. “Come on. You didn’t even hear me out.”

“You’re going to say something stupid. Or insulting.”

“It’s neither, promise.”

You run your hand through your hair, breathing shallow. “Fine. I don’t have to agree though.”

Ten purses his lips. “It’d be better if you did.”

You hum in response, biting into the cookie and trying to ignore the glare from the nearby waitress. It’s about time you left anyway.

“Get to know him, dude. Don’t break his heart.”

“What?”

“Just kidding. There’s a party tonight. Hosted by yours truly. Finally moved out of that stinky dorm room. Bring over some friends but not more than three. And lend me some money for a juicebox.”

“That’s a lot,” you mutter. “You ask for a lot of favours.”

“Oh, speaking of which, Hyungmin—”

“He already asked me out on a date. Am I supposed to say no? You never mentioned he has such an attractive voice.”

“Oh, I’m not telling you to not go on that date. You have to, actually. I’m going to be in a lot of trouble otherwise.”

“That sounds good to me.”

“Shut up. I’m not done speaking.”

You roll your eyes.

“But if you didn’t, I could draw some conclusions.”

“What am I, your chemistry experiment now?”

“Well, you and Doyoung seem to be—”

“Don’t complete that sentence.”

“I was going to say something funny.” 

Ten flashes you a blinding smile and you sigh. By now, you’re about to get kicked out of here so you stand up discreetly while he packs up his stuff. You hug your jacket close to you as soon as you leave, shivering at the evening breeze. The sky is inky, but with a faint sort of ink—deep blue and light, all at once. From the crowd, you can tell classes just got over for quite a few people, eclectic chatter filling up the street.

“Fine. I’ll bring Eunji,” you tell Ten after some contemplation. “And whoever else responds to my text first. Areum never leaves the room. You know that.”

“Thanks, (name)!” he messes up your hair. “I would give you a kiss but someone will end up punching my pretty face.”

You furrow your brows. “Well, you’re not my type anyway.”

“I’m too good for you,” he responds in a sing-song manner, waving at you before running off and disappearing into the university crowd.

There’s always a sort of buzz in the air you can’t quite describe at college parties.

Even if this is a relatively small one, you feel an oncoming headache the moment you enter Ten’s new apartment, which you’re sure had a ‘no parties’ rule in the rental contract. You spot Kun, Ten’s roommate from the dorms and he flashes you a quick smile in greeting before he’s swept up by a doting crowd. Apparently, a cute guy in animal sciences is rare and it makes him rather popular.

Eunji disappears from your side the moment she spots Johnny, and the number of eye rolls you’ve given her haven’t warned her off him yet. You suppose it takes heartbreak to change a person. Sighing, you make your way to the kitchen only to be greeted with the strange sight of Yuta trying to balance Jaehyun on his back so they can imitate some anime formation and back out immediately. Living room, it is, despite its populous space. (You don’t really want to think of bedrooms right now.)

The apartment is quite big for what Ten told you the rent was. The hallway to the two bedrooms is narrow but you suppose something has to be sacrificed for space. You furrow your eyebrows at the two bedroom doors. Ten never said he was getting a roommate. You shrug it off, sitting down on the rather stiff couch. The lack of furniture, apart from the couch and a coffee table, makes the place look even larger and people sparse. You like the beige walls; Ten’s always loved warmer colours but something makes you think he’s going to be ruining them in a few days with garish green paint before he comes crying about that to you.

“Hey.”

You look up to the familiar voice, heart rising to your throat.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Doyoung remarks before sitting down beside you and offering you a cup of god-knows-what.

“I don’t take drinks from strange men,” you say, biting down your smile and crossing your arms.

“If you didn’t take drinks from strange men, we wouldn’t be fu—”

“Doyoung!” you hiss before looking at him with careful suspicion. “Are you drunk?”

“No. A little bit. Not enough.”

You sigh. “How will you get home now?”

“I live here, idiot.”

“You’re- You’re Ten’s roommate?” you sputter.

“Yeah. New one,” he responds. “He used to live across our room in the dorms, I can’t believe I actually agreed to this.”

“I can’t believe it either. I’ve seen cats and dogs friendlier with each other than the two of you.”

Doyoung laughs. “He’s surprisingly one of the better people to room with. I’d rather eat my own blanket than room with Yuta again.”

You laugh at his irked expression, eyebrows furrowed so cutely. The line of his brow bone to nose to lips, it seems a little too perfect to belong to someone. He relaxes his shoulders a little, leaning back on the couch as he looks somewhat lost in thought. (“You think too much,” you’d told him once. “And you think too little.”) If only that were true, you smile to yourself.

“Are you sure you can hold parties here?” you as when the music suddenly rises in volume.

“Well, it said student-friendly,” Doyoung responds, looking visibly disturbed. “Not sure if I want to test the limits of that so early.”

There’s a pause, filled in with loud pop music. You don’t think Ten, your dear introvert, would have agreed to such a party but there’s a chance Johnny or Jaehyun had something to do with this. You don’t know who to suspect when it comes to their group of friends.

“I still can’t believe you’re rooming with Ten.” You look at Doyoung.

“Well, that makes, what, eleven of us, I guess?”

You laugh, feeling conscious all of sudden. Maybe you should listen to Ten’s advice.

“Doyoung,” you call, looking at the cup in your hands a little too passionately. “What’s your major?”

He looks at you with eyes widened ever so slightly, and a pause over his lips.

“Linguistics,” he answers.

“Oh. You said something about it once,” you mumble, recalling something vague about an assignment of his. “You know mine?”

“Yeah,” he answers, eyes cast on his watch.

“Well, that makes me feel a little guilty,” you mumble as softly as you can.

“You should be,” he says. “You never listen to anything I say.”

You scoff. “You just complain most of the time.”

“Really now?”

“Yes,” you snap, looking away.

You look back again when you hear the sound of Doyoung’s laugh, a distinct brightness in it. Sometimes, you wonder if you really are as awful as you’ve made yourself be.

“You’re cute,” he says. “No wonder everyone is so in love with you.”

For a moment, you think he’s going to kiss you.

“Everyone?” you laugh. You don’t care about everyone. It’s burdensome.

“Everyone. They hate you too, by the way.” He smiles to himself. “Heard you’re going on a date with that dimwit. Hyungmin.”

You feel a sudden discomfort in your being. Taking a sip of the drink, you try to shake it off as best as you can. 

“Yeah, I- I don’t think I’ll go,” you say, waving it off. 

Why are you lying? You left it hanging on a maybe. Part of you wants to tell Doyoung; he is your friend after all and you tell friends stuff like this. The other part tells you this is cheating; lying and pretending everything is okay—it feels like cheating. 

“Oh.” He looks lost before he focuses on you. “Why not?”

“Why do you care?” you ask, trying desperately to calm the uprising in your chest.

He stays quiet for a few seconds and then shrugs, looking away from you. It makes you feel a little guilty to dismiss the situation so quickly, another item to add to your troubles. You sigh.

“Sorry,” you say. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, it’s okay. You’re right.” You can see his Adam's apple bob up and down.

“I’m not,” you say. “I��m wrong. I really didn’t mean it.”

He looks at you all at once, his gaze so gentle that it makes you think he wants to kiss you, or do something equally affectionate. Instead he sighs, downing whatever’s left of his drink before a wash of sudden looseness does away with the tension in his body.

“You have any more questions for me?” he asks, smiling. “What's it like to be student body president—or, or what instruments can I play? My favourite animal? Colour?”

You smile back. “What is your favourite animal?”

“I don’t have one. Don’t like them. Unless it’s a soft toy.”

“No way. You’re lying.”

“Now, I answer your questions and you call me a liar? Makes me a little hesitant to answer the next.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, next then. Why didn’t you join the frat? All your friends are in it.”

“Hurts my ego.”

You laugh. He’s still probably an honorary member. There is no way he’s apart from friends for too long with all those feelings of fraternity he has, no matter what he says. It’s the same as you. Affection leads nowhere though; just to short-lived moments of comfort.

You realize, through the course of the night, that you never asked. How he got into the student council, what his classes are, what he does for fun—you never asked. It’s almost like you didn’t want to know. 

How sad, you muse to yourself, to be this way. To be so wrapped up in your own problems that you fail to see people around you. Pity, however, isn’t something to feel at a party. You talk with Doyoung for the rest of the night till the sound of his voice makes you feel certain ghosts of butterflies, and till you have to take Eunji home before she does something she regrets. This is what it really means to have the price tag of ‘youth’ strung across you perhaps—when you feel old and immature all at once, and in between, when you feel nothing at all.

Doyoung is too old to mistake love. Or too young. 

Labels don’t define anything, especially when it comes to relationships—so even if he calls it love, whispers it to himself at midnight when he’s sitting alone on his bed while his friends are passed out drunk on the floor, it is empty. And then there’s you. The heat of your skin, the curse of your smile and that cheeky laugh you do to get on his nerves. He wants all of it and he’s not ashamed—but he’d be a liar to say he can shout it to the whole world. He’s not that kind of man, and what is his can remain his without the rest of the world prying its damn fingers in. The first night, no, the second—third? He can’t remember which night it was but something pent up in him exploded and he didn’t try to control it for once.

“Ow,” he mutters.

His throat burns from the whiskey. He hates drinking alone but you’re either asleep or with friends and he can’t think of anyone else but you. He tugs at the turtleneck collar, getting uncomfortable by the minute, and then proceeds to take off his coat.

For a moment, he considers getting back to the living room. There were more than enough people with lingering touches against his shoulder and longing gazes—they’re not you. He leans back onto his bed. Another hour and everyone will be gone; why did he even let them hold a party in the first place? Parties just remind him of you—he takes a whiff and smells summer and lemon vodka all of a sudden. A deep sigh leaves his lips.

You might not seem to find yourself especially sad, but Doyoung finds something oddly touching about you. Maybe it’s the way you say his name, he muses, like you’re desperately trying to fill the gaps. But it can’t be him in particular, of course—it’s a lover, any lover.

He hates long nights, just as he hates winter but lately, they haven’t been feeling too cold. Isn’t it ridiculous the way he’s running after you? Doyoung was never meant for this. It’s fucking pathetic and it makes him want to tear all his hair out but there he is, still and quiet in the same place. A certain agony makes its way through him. His hands are freezing and yet his insides are burning—nothing makes sense and right now, he doesn’t want it to. He presses his cold hands to the warmth of his cheeks and a laugh erupts from his mouth.

He must be going crazy to laugh like this in an empty room. The car lights from the window travel slowly from wall to ceiling, the only thing moving in the stagnant of his room.

Inevitably, he thinks of the end. It should come quick; in fact, he’s never been one to do this. He’s always been someone to get attached to people. He doesn’t know how the end will come because this shouldn’t have begun in the first place.

Doyoung’s out of breath.

“Crazy bastard,” he mumbles to himself, followed by a groan when he lifts his head up. As if on cue, the door opens and shuts with a bang. Ten walks in looking drowsy, running his hand through his hair with a disgruntled face.

“I hate to say this,” he slurs. “But you’re right. We can’t have extra furniture and parties. Gotta choose one.”

Ten lays down flat on the bed. “I vote out that ugly ass clock you bought. Why do we need it? We have phones and laptops.”

“It was a gift,” Doyoung mutters.

“Oh. Uh. Actually, someone already, uh—”

“Leave it. We’ll talk about that in the morning.” 

Doyoung massages his forehead, groaning at the pain when Ten suddenly decides he’s all up for cuddling. 

“Ew,” he says, scooting away from Ten. “Get away from me.”

“You don’t mean that,” Ten whines, trying very hard to pull Doyoung into a hug. Of course, his attempts are blocked by Doyoung’s palm against his forehead.

After a few more seconds of trying, Ten huffs and turns away, crossing his arms. “I don’t like you anyway.”

“I know,” Doyoung mutters.

Ten erupts into laughter, sounding more like a psychopath than a close friend of his.

“You do that every time you like someone?” he asks in between fits.

Doyoung raises an eyebrow. “I just said—okay, yeah. Whatever.”

There’s a much needed silence and Doyoung wonders if he can just fall asleep without kicking Ten out.

“You should tell (name),” Ten says all of a sudden, Doyoung’s heart stopping at your name.

“What?” he whispers.

Ten looks at him as though he’s talking to a particularly stupid child. It makes Doyoung scowl but there’s too much alcohol in his system to know if he really means it.

“You don’t- you’re- everyone in this goddamn building knows,” Ten explains, exasperated. “Jaehyun knows, and he’s the densest kid I’ve ever met. God, if you like (name), go for it.”

Doyoung blushes so deep, he considers pressing his palms to his cheeks again. He thinks for the next few moments. Ah well, if they had to find out, he’s glad he didn’t have to declare it himself.

“Whatever, just ask (name) out. It can’t be that complicated.”

Except it is. You don’t have to spell it out for him—he knows the way you feel. The two of you only ever wanted one thing out of this. But if there’s something Doyoung isn’t good at, it’s keeping his mouth shut. He wonders how many times he let it slip, wonders if you even care enough to notice. God, it’s starting to sound pitiful for him.

“Ten. How much did you drink?” Doyoung asks, raising his head.

“Nothing. None. I’m not drunk.” Ten shrugs. “Just sleepy.”

A ‘wow’ is all Doyoung can respond with. He still isn’t quite finished figuring out what sort of horrific planet Ten stumbled from. A notification ding distracts him from kicking Ten off his bed and he has half a mind to toss it onto the bedside table but it’s still half. He softens almost immediately.

It’s a text from you: a ‘u’ followed by a smiley face and then a meme he can’t quite read through hazy eyes. He finds himself smiling anyway and sends a barrage of emojis, whatever he finds because he likes the way you get annoyed at them. Sighing, he decides that’s enough. He’s not in the right state of mind for conversation.

Doyoung shuts his phone off, attempts to push Ten off the bed one last time before closing his eyes and dozing off.

Not every day is meant to be fun—you know that in your twenties—but it’s still somewhat disappointing to have bad days. Like youth is meant to give you some sort of happiness daily. That’s what they make it sound like.

You groan, rubbing at your back. Sitting at your study desk for so long does not have good long term effects. At least, your temporary, meaningless assignments are done. You scowl at the text on your laptop screen; the more you look at it, the more you hate it and so, you shut it off. It’s not like your pissy professor is going to be impressed by anything you do. However, you like the orderly certainty of schoolwork.

Break time consists of guilt and sugary snacks. You’re done with most everything and you suppose leaving the final review of things to a later date can’t hurt. In fact, it sounds rather appeasing. A few more moments pass in making a decision.

You get dressed. The apartment feels eerie all alone, and you’re sure as hell not going to spend the rest of your evening here. You shiver, quickly striding out the front door and locking it before taking out your phone.

People misunderstand winter. Winter is only the end of things; and sometimes, the beginning. It isn’t cruel or crushing, it’s just taking its course. However, you have a tendency to blame seasons for all that happen in it. For instance, you shouldn’t be missing summer when you really miss the first night with Doyoung. 

He picks up after calling thrice. You wonder what he’s even up to, if Saturday evenings are also booked full for such a guy.

“Why do you take so long to pick up?” you complain. “Do you not get days off?”

“I’m busy,” he hisses. 

Something’s wrong.

You pause, unsure what to do. It’s not his voice but the one in the background that catches your attention. 

Inviting him somewhere. 

Rather sensually.

Your ears feel hot and you drop the call. Of course. Of fucking course. You’re the idiot thinking it was a thing. This whole thing is casual—feeling sorry wasn’t in the contract. Fucking around was.

It’s not like you’ll be heartbroken by something like this. Of course not. Of course. Doyoung and you never had a beginning so there isn’t an end, really. It’s fine. It’s fine. You take a deep breath and browse through your phone. With the onset of Christmas holidays, you have around three options left. Ten (yikes), Jaehyun (no way) or the latest addition, Hyungmin.

Well, you’re dressed. You have to go somewhere. And your statement about Hyungmin being the hottest guy on campus still stands.

You send two texts to the boy before deciding that’s apparently enough time waiting. He picks up after a few rings, voice groggy from what you assume to be a late afternoon nap.

“You up for a drink?” You cut to the point.

“Uh? Oh, uh, now? I am, of course- I just need—”

“Twenty minutes. I’ll text you the address.”

Nothing cheers you up like your favourite bar. Or friends. Or people who respond to calls.

Hongdae is as busy as ever. You knew the bar would be packed but not this packed. Still, you managed to grab a seat at the bar table. With the oncoming night, the smell is just going to get worse—so there’s nothing wrong with treating yourself to some lemon vodka (and its refreshing scent).

Hyungmin arrives exactly four minutes early, and the mussed up hair makes you think he must have been in a hurry. For what, you can’t be sure. 

You can still see the inklings of Hongdae nightlights on his hair right before he enters, and in the fallacy of that moment, you think it’s going to be Doyoung. You sigh. This isn’t the time for that.

“Sorry,” you say, gesturing to the bar table. “All the tables were booked.”

“No, no,” he responds quickly. “I actually prefer it here.”

He’s tall, not that it’s the first time you’re noticing, but even when he’s sitting, he’s at least two heads taller than you are. His shoulders are accentuated by the mocha coat, no doubt part of the latest trend this winter. As a fashion student, he hits the mark and more. 

For a moment, you feel bad for knowing his major. Ten let it slip about him and yet still, you feel guilty for remembering it. You’re not supposed to go into unnecessary detail about people that don’t matter. Does he matter? 

“Surprised you could make it,” you joke half-heartedly. “Aren’t you lot always busy with something?”

He laughs. “The student council? Oh, we’re busy alright.”

Busy. Right.

“What about you? Aren’t you part of like three different clubs?”

“So what kind of busy?” you ask, ignoring his question. You’re part of two, now that you left the music club last semester. It’s not like small talk matters though.

“Uh,” he hesitates. “You know- attend meetings and events, coordinate committee work, supervise stuff, etcetera etcetera. So busy, yeah.”

“Busy on Saturdays too?” you ask, before thanking the bartender for the drinks.

“Yeah, I guess. Doyoung has it worse than me honestly. Even now, he has to take care of stuff because of me. Hah…”

You gulp down your drink making Hyungmin raise an eyebrow in concern. “Stuff? Because of you?”

“Yeah.” Hyungmin scratches the back of his head. “He’s with the girls.”

“Girls?” you ask, playing with the glass. You’re starting to feel annoyed, red lining your vision.

“Yeah.” He makes no notion of clarifying his statement.  

“Must be quite the president,” you say, resting your cheek against your palm.

“Oh, he’s a nightmare.” Hyungmin laughs. “He has to control everything.”

You try to mask your scoff. You know what he can be like when you’re working beside him. 

“Oh, and the guy has no sense of humour,” Hyungmin laughs, the sound easy on the ears.

You blink.

“I think he’s funny,” you say quickly. You swear you have no idea why you sound so defensive.

He hums in response and you consider biting your tongue, telling him you’re only here for one thing and forgetting the uncomfortable churning of feelings inside your chest.

“Forget I- I’m a little confused today.” 

Is that an acceptable explanation? You can’t think straight enough to decide. The silence on Hyungmin’s part, however, worries you. The crowd around you fills in for the next few moments as your companion seems to debate something with himself.

“Look, I know you and Doyoung are… I don’t know, something.”

You huff in irked amusement. “God, does everyone seem to know?”

“Not until late actually.” Hyungmin takes a gulp. “He’s been acting weird. Doyoung.” 

You look away, breathing shallow. You don’t like it, the way things seem to be getting out of hand. All this time, the world seemed to be in the palm of your hand and now, it’s spilling everywhere; the sand in the hourglass is already up to your knees and you don’t know what happens when it fills.

“Do you actually like him?” he asks, leaning back just a little. You know where this is going. “Are you guys dating?”

“No,” you respond, checking your watch.

“Oh.”

There’s a moment’s hesitation in him but you’ve seen that look before. You know that look.

“Then we can- uh- we can—”

“Fuck?” you ask.

He gulps. “I mean, you can say no any time—”

You pull him by the collar and kiss him, hard enough to melt away your hovering thoughts. He kisses like you expect him to, not how you want him to. You know this sort, and somehow, that makes you feel comfortable. Knowing what you’re getting into is easing but it doesn’t lessen the weight of it.

It’s sickening. The way you’re pretending it’s Doyoung.

Hyungmin pulls apart, panting heavily. “Oh, okay.”

“Tell me you drove here.” 

He holds up his car keys in response.

You’re not the type to sleep with strange (semi-acquainted) men, but it’s better than falling in love with them.

So you follow a lover to a hotel room and try to feel something. Some time, when he’s kissing you against the hotel room walls, he pulls apart and asks, “You’re thinking of someone else, aren’t you?”

You know the answer; it just won’t leave your lips.

“It’s okay,” he says with a weak smile, “Let’s just have fun.”

And every time his mouth was on yours, every time you saw stars, you felt the ghost of Doyoung and his haunting touches. It was strange and unfair and unlike you—or at least, unlike the you that you built over the past few years. You feel as though you’ve misplaced something—like something was supposed to be there when you reached out but instead, it was empty space.

The night ends as it should and you leave right before dawn with an apology text you couldn’t put half your heart into.

Most winter nights, you wake up with pain so profound, it’s seeping into your bones.

It never made sense. You never tried to make sense of it. So you let the aches push you down by the shoulders, lodge itself into your neck and back; and you tell yourself, it must be what you deserve. It’s cold and you’re walking barefoot on frozen ground.

You gasp. The weight of who you are and who you have to be—it has its knee on the back of your neck, shoving you into the damp earth. There’s no particular reason to it; it makes it seem as though it’s insignificant. Unimportant. Irrelevant. But that’s the problem—the weight of the world on your shoulders makes no sense. Whose world are you even carrying? Whose approval are you trying to win? You scramble to get up, messing up your bedsheets in the process, and pull your blanket around you. Your own warmth surrounds you and it makes no difference. You frown.

You remember your phone call with your mom, and your lips tremble. You shouldn’t have told her about how crappy your finals went but it slipped. You tried to explain that you did work for them, that you gave it your best but sometimes things don’t work out. She didn’t have to say it out loud for you to hear her thoughts. 

You’re disappointing. 

You wipe at your eyes, feeling annoyed at the emotion. If you could let the ground swallow you whole, you would. In a heartbeat. You don’t even know what you’re doing most of the days despite that pretty planner of yours.

You get out of bed, pull on your cardigan beside the bed and grab your lighter and pack. The tiny balcony makes for a great smoking spot and while you would scold any of your friends for committing to this, you do it yourself. Hypocrite.

For all you try to shove into yourself—hobbies, student clubs, actual clubbing, friends—the more you feel less than enough, as if everything just vanishes into thin air inside you. As if you aren’t enough and never will be. You play by the rules and you lose, you break the rules and you lose. 

Maybe it’s because you let yourself be filled by the intricacies of other people that they like you. And thus, you cannot stop for fear of loneliness.

Just as you’re feeling crushed again, you picture Doyoung against your back, placing his nose in the crook of your neck—something he has never done—and you wonder why it helps. 

Sucking in air too fast, you cough. You shouldn’t have let it go on for so long.

It was fun—harmless fun. You shouldn’t even be thinking of taking a step in some other direction. You’re friends, barely, but you like where you are. If Doyoung was that important, you wouldn’t be going about this all backwards. You sigh, though it comes out jagged. The room is quiet and that’s the way it should be at four a.m, of course, but you crave music all of a sudden. Doyoung and you are just a temporary fix; and you let that thought relax you.

When you think of his chin on your shoulder, however, it feels feather light.

“Why are we doing this?” you ask. 

The atmosphere is warm and toasty, just like you expect it to be in a bakery with light pink doors and a collection of plastic potted plants on display. The decorations aren’t an eyesore here and somehow, it makes you feel better. It’s a little far but you decide it’s worth it.

Doyoung shrugs, sipping his hot chocolate. “It’s Christmas, and we’re both here.”

Your eyes follow the hanging lights over the counter, wrapped in pine tree stickers and eventually to the neat display of a ‘Season’s Greetings’ menu, the contents of which are currently at your table. A Christmas song by some singer who’s been popular lately plays, tunes light and dancing. You hate the end of the year solely because of the extra pressure January brings. Nothing you can’t handle, of course. Nothing you can’t handle.

You sigh. It’s been a little difficult lately.

“Doyoung, really, why are we doing this?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“Are you- uh- are you not enjoying this? I could—”

“No! No, it’s not that. I feel better, actually.” You bite your tongue almost immediately after. It’s not like he’s supposed to know the sort of hell week you’re having. A poorly received term paper, finals that weren’t up to your expectations, crippling loneliness without friends and, oh, the self-doubt—you are at the lowest you can be in college. The only sweetener right now is in the hot chocolate and the way Doyoung’s looking at you. 

You feel something close to guilt.

“Good.” He smiles. “You seemed… You seemed a little down.”

The sliver of warmth between your ribs makes you think this is unreal. It feels uneasy to be so affected by someone but you let it slide, turning back to your hot chocolate.

“Why didn’t you go home this time?” you ask, sipping your drink.

“Oh, I didn't really want to face my parents,” he says before leaning. “Didn’t do too well this semester. And my brother’s going to be there with all his achievements.”

You chuckle in disbelief. “You don’t like your brother?”

“I love him to bits. Just can’t stand my mom’s nagging when he’s around.”

“That’s rich coming from you.” You cross your arms, smiling triumphantly. You feel like children squabbling but it’s so lighthearted, you want to laugh.

Doyoung raises a pointed finger, about to retort but nothing comes out. He puts his hand down.

“I guess you’re right.”

You shake your head. “I’m sure she’s proud of you too.”

“I know that,” he says, laughing. “Of course she is. I don’t keep myself busy for nothing.”

You gulp, a sudden sourness rising at the base of your tongue. 

“Busy, huh? Didn’t know spending saturday evenings with girls also counted as busy,” you mutter against the cup, half-hoping he doesn’t hear you.

“What?” There’s a perplexed look across his face.

You wave your hand in dismissal. “Oh don’t mind me.”

“Are you talking about me giving a tour to the fresher girls?” Doyoung leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Hyungmin does that usually but Mr Man was sore from soccer practice and Friday fucking.” 

You blink. “Fresher… girls?”

“What, did you think I was at a brothel?” Doyoung laughs in amusement.

You feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “No! No, of course not.”

You wave your hands about for a few more seconds, trying to come up with an explanation. This makes things rather embarrassing.

“Sorry,” you say finally. “I jumped to conclusions.”

Doyoung laughs, rather deep and heartily, and you wonder if your apology really did sound as stupid to him as it did to you. 

“You do that a lot,” he notes.

“Thanks,” you quip, cutting the pastry with your fork a little too forcefully. His laugh follows. (You hate it so much. It sounds like pure adoration.)

The next few moments consist of scrolling through your phones (because Doyoung says his ‘mouth hurts from talking to you’) and you would’ve been in a better state of mind if everyone wasn’t posting pre-Christmas photos with their families. 

“You know they’re opening that park. What’s it called- Winter Wonderland or something. You said you wanted to visit.”

You look up at Doyoung amused.

“Let’s be honest. You want to be in bed, Doyoung,” you say. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I care,” he answers, looking at you with his doe eyes. “About you. You sulk when you’re upset.”

“I don’t sulk,” you reply but your smile is obvious when you exit the cafe. 

It’s like a date. The more you think of it that way, the more it makes you smile.

The evening is perfect—orange and pink and loving and happy. Doyoung trails behind you as you tread over the sidewalk with cheeky remarks about his speed.

“I’m in the track club, you know?” he huffs, finally tired of your jabs.

“As what, the start point?”

A fake, sarcastic laugh leaves him. “I wouldn’t get to see you if I walked ahead.”

You feel warmth creep up your face. You mumble, “that’s cheesy.” It’s too weak though, and it goes unheard. 

For the first time, you notice his eyes are a little like yours in what they reflect. You love them. 

So this is where the crowd went. The amusement park, or whatever you call it, is buzzing with a faint sort of excitement, mostly in the children that didn’t get to go on a vacation elsewhere. It’s quite the wonderland though so you can’t see them complaining.

“Do you think they’ll kick us out if we make out on the Ferris wheel?” you ask, smiling at Doyoung.

“I’m not making out with you on the Ferris wheel,” he replies, making a face.

You do end up making out on the Ferris wheel, and you get butterflies from it. It’s like a teenage dream but Doyoung looks even better. You pass on the cotton candy because frankly, you’ve had enough of sweet things. You sit at the frozen wooden seat, hoping it warms up while Doyoung brings the two of you some fries.

Your phone buzzes with a notification. Your eyes light up at the mail from your professor. You had turned in the term paper three days ago, weeks ahead of schedule and were particularly proud of the way it turned out. 

You look at the email and zero in on the word ‘redo’.

Your shoulders sag immediately. You spent four weeks on that—and it’s not good enough? You search frantically for how it could have gone wrong and come up with none. That’s not supposed to happen. Something’s wrong. Something’s very wrong. The week’s exhaustion swallows you up again.

When Doyoung returns, he looks at you concerned before quickly setting the fries on the table.

“(name). Is something wrong?”

“Huh?” Your voice sounds so weak and squeaky, you feel embarrassed. It’s embarrassing that after all these years, you still don’t know how to handle failure. 

Because it’s not supposed to happen. You tell yourself that over and over and it makes things worse.

You feel dirty, underneath all that dust and crumbled rock dangling in your hair. Whatever rests on your shoulders is cracking and collapsing, and you’re pushing in the wrong direction to make sure it all stays up. 

He reaches out his hand but you avoid it.

“No,” you mutter, weakly shaking your head.

You rub at your nose and eyes, hoping you can hide behind your forearms. Doyoung shouldn’t be seeing you like this, he doesn’t deserve to see you like this. You turn away from him, your palm gently pushing against the soft material of his shirt. 

Doyoung doesn’t move. Instead, he gently tugs on your wrist so you have no choice but to face him with your red-rimmed eyes. You’re not sure if it’s embarrassment or pity, but the concern in his eyes makes you cry harder. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he whispers. “You don’t have to find a place to cry.”

For the first time in adulthood, you learn what it’s like to lean your forehead against someone’s chest this way. Doyoung wraps his arms around you and the sound of his breathing soothes your near-erratic heart. 

“I worked really hard on it, you know?” you mumble against his chest. “My term paper.”

“I know,” he whispers.

Doyoung strokes your head delicately, fingers running through your hair with airy touches. Eventually, you let go of a final sigh and look up to his lips.

He seems surprised at the kiss but it’s all you can think of now. It’s gentler than usual and Doyoung moves cautiously though he seems to like it all the same. His arms feel comfortable around you. When he pulls apart, he looks at you yet still with careful concern.

“We can- we should stop if you want,” he says, and he means it. 

You shake your head. Night is creeping in overhead, deep and quiet and slow.

“I like you, Doyoung,” you say finally. “I really, really like you.”

Doyoung’s eyes widen, as though a rabbit wary of the traps it might set foot on but he eases into your touch almost immediately.

“I like… I like you too.” His lips waver but he looks away and takes a deep breath. “I like you so much.”

You smile and think that maybe everything is set right now, with his chin against your shoulder and your arms around him. 

Doyoung discards the jacket once you’re in your apartment, kissing you fuller now. Every other thought leaves you; you beg him to make you forget the rest of the world. The walls are comforting now that he’s here, and it’s warmer, hotter.

“Can we- Can we go a little slower?” you mumble, his arms still gentle when they wrap around your waist. He parts his lips from your neck to look at you momentarily before nodding.

You suddenly understand why he always makes you feel so good. There’s a certain fondness to his touch and warmth to his kisses. There’s no one quite like him, really.

“I love digging graves, especially if it’s my own,” you mutter against the pillow.

Doyoung laughs. “What did you do this time?”

“This time? Excuse me? Do you think I’m some sort of trouble child?”

“Hm. Let’s see. Yes.”

You pause. Why do you hesitate to tell him you slept with Hyungmin? It’s not like you were cheating—you weren’t dating Doyoung. Besides, that night with Hyungmin didn’t mean anything. A horrid feeling snakes around your throat, heavy and piercing. You resort to changing the topic.

“I’m… I took another course beyond my understanding.”

“That’s it?” he asks.

You nod.

No, no, no; it’s all backwards now and you don’t know how to reverse it.

Doyoung takes your hand in his, delicately and yet firm. His chest is against your back, bare and warm. When he presses his lips against your knuckles, the warmth that flushes through you makes you want to believe in something else entirely. You feel weak. 

A part of you argues that you feel honest—in a moment of clarity you don’t think you deserve. Neither vodka nor whiskey can make you this clear in the head; you struggle to breathe straight. How awful it is to feel warmth and not believe in it at the same time.  

“You can rely on me, you know?” he whispers.

The knot in your chest makes you want to cry.

You feel lonely and the opposite of it all at once. Doyoung is too much for you—too kind, too pretty and too true. He makes you realize too many things at once.

There are a few things in the world that can stifle loneliness. Like the notes Doyoung plays on the piano, like the songs he hums in the morning till you place open-mouthed kisses against his neck.

You realize, all of a sudden, that Doyoung really is your dearest friend.

And yet, you don’t think you deserve it. You’ve never loved, you believe, but you have. You don’t remember it well enough. The lovers’ touches you kept searching for led to this. Hypocrite. You wanted a lover’s touch and you rejected the love that came with it. What a complicated bundle of emotions. You weren’t always this way.

You loved your first cat when you were six, all the way till it died a warm death in your bed. You loved your mother even when she yelled at you for skipping your chores. You loved your middle school friends when you talked about comics and movies you saw for the first time. 

It’s hard to love the same way now.

You suppose sympathy needs a little backstory. Nothing is unconditional. 

It had all started when your heart had broken into two clean pieces. You put a bandaid on it and called it a day. No one taught you to ask for help.

Your friends know someone broke your heart; you tell them everything. Friends, friends—you wanted them so bad and yet, you keep them as far from you as you can. You pretend to be paper-thin and so shallow, sometimes you wonder if that’s all there is to you. But for all they know, they know next to nothing. It wasn’t just the aftermath of reckless puppy love. 

The first time your heart broke, it was watching your mother cry in the living room for a reason you didn’t understand. You wondered who committed the crime, who should be charged—and you found no one. A loveless marriage is cruel, yes, but you cannot point fingers. It isn’t just cruel; it’s infuriating.

The second time, the two pieces of your heart broke into a few more. It was a boy with an inviting smile and flags whose colour you couldn’t quite discern. They must have been red, but everything else was too—hearts, cheeks, lips, and the threads around your wrists. And eventually, he guided you to the conclusion that you are undeserving, unworthy, unloved. 

You were strong, however. It was easy to collapse on the bed and feel the weight of the world settling in, but you stood up again on shaking knees and you told yourself to have fun; you can have fun without feelings. You know better than to attach meaning to fun—you might hate insignificant things but it’s only fun if it’s pointless. You’re not letting go of this place you’ve worked so hard to arrive at, with all the shattered pieces in your hands.

It’s better to offer nothing at all than offer broken pieces.

“Can we stay like this?” Doyoung’s arms tighten around your waist, his breath shallow against your shoulder. “Just for a little bit.”

His voice is beautiful as always, but for a moment, it strikes you as sad.

Everything’s twisting up into knots and you are frantically running your fingers over them to straighten it all out. You know what it’s like to let things rot; and you are tired of it. Why can’t everything disappear for one moment? Why can’t you just let it be the two of you?

You sigh in response, nodding. 

“I might not know what’s happening in there,” he starts, drawing circles on your chest with his finger, touch comfortably light. “But…”

I’m here and I get it.

Is that what he wants to say? You don’t think you’ll get to know. You’re not exactly voicing yourself either. 

Stay the night. You want to say it but your lips are frozen.

Instead, you rub your thumb over the back of his hand, fitting into each other as perfect as a lie. You would tell him, you try to convince yourself, if you could say it with enough conviction. There’s no point to saying things that are half-meant, that are true but only just enough. You’re a coward.

And now, this has gotten complicated.

An end.

Tapping his pen against the desk, Doyoung grows increasingly annoyed. The council's next  meeting agenda isn’t going to finish writing itself but he can’t bring himself to either. Besides, Ten’s pacing outside his room is starting to get on his nerves.

“Ten!” he yells. “Can you quit it? You’re making too much noise.”

His disapproval is met with silence. For a moment, he spaces out and reflexively thinks of you, only to feel a confusing sort of emotion. It’s normal, he tells himself, and that it’ll sort itself out.

Doyoung feels like a glass box more often than not. If he breaks, who picks up the pieces? Who gets cuts all over their fingers?

‘Whoever breaks him’ should be the answer. But that’s wishful thinking. It’s not that simple. 

He’s so see-through that it’s painful. He used to tell Taeyong he’s wrong but he’s never been able to prove it. He is easy. It’s embarrassing.

But then again, part of him likes it when it comes to you. He likes it when you kiss him after a particularly heated disagreement, he likes when you get on his nerves just so he’d fuck you and most of all, he loves the push and pull. Fun is just that. He doesn’t know what he’d do if that heart of his he placed so gingerly into your palms falls and shatters.

The line between hate and love is thin; and he’s enjoying walking it too much.

He has nothing to offer but himself. He laughs at the thought and shakes his head. It’s somewhat dirty, and not just in the sexual sense.

“Ten!” he yells again. “Stop pacing!”

Getting up from his seat, he strides over to his door, swings it open and finds Ten scratching his head and glancing at his phone in repeated action. 

“Ten?”

He’s so in a trance that he hasn’t noticed Doyoung. He is the lovable sort of idiot if he ever chooses to be so. Most of the time though, he’s just a smartass.

“Oh, oh no, I’m a bad friend,” Ten mutters to himself, his pacing growing more restless. He scratches the back of his head, eyebrows furrowed and too inside his head to notice Doyoung. He wants to ask but something tells him he shouldn’t. 

Turns out, his apprehension isn’t strong enough these days. 

“Whose date did you crash?” Doyoung asks, more than annoyed already.

When Ten looks at him, Doyoung feels rather shriveled and freezes on the spot. Call it instinct but Doyoung respects fear and pain. Ten has a mixture of the two, amplified when he looks at Doyoung.

“Doyoung. Hey,” he says, trying to tone down the distress in his voice.

Doyoung still hasn’t recovered from the initial surprise of Ten looking that way.

“Did you fuck up? Did someone fuck up? Why do you look like that?”

Ten sits down on the small couch. “Long story… I guess. Too many details, you- you know? Just—”

“What the fuck happened?”

Ten still can’t look him in the eye. “The group chat’s a little…”

“Ten,” Doyoung snaps. “Cut the crap.”

“No, that’s- that’s what I’m- You’re going to be upset.”

Doyoung straightens, furrowing his brows. “I think I can fucking handle it.”

“You know that date I set up for (name) and Hyungmin?”

“You set that up?”

“(name) slept with Hyungmin.” 

Doyoung quietens. The silence seems to make Ten uncomfortable as he shifts in his seat, getting up when Doyoung speaks.

“So?”

Ten blinks. “You’re not upset?”

“Just what kind of loser do you think I am?” Doyoung mutters.

Glass shatters just that easily. Maybe he wanted you to shatter him. Maybe he was already cracking at the edges.

“Doyoung, you don’t have to—”

“Stop,” he exclaims a little louder than he intended. “Stop looking at me like that. I’m a grown man, I can handle shit like this.”

It still hurts though. You lied to him and he let you in. You lied to him. Doyoung sighs, returning to his room with a realization he should have had long ago. His night ends with more deleted drafts than he’s supposed to have and eventually, with increased discomfort, he delegates the job to Park Hyungmin himself with the excuse of sickness.

Doyoung does feel sick. He felt this way once, in highschool, but it had turned to red, hot anger ready to lash at anyone and everyone, spilling from his lips as easy as it was to breathe. And Doyoung can never feel that way towards you. He was different back then too, of course, but you—you’re unlike anyone he’s ever met. He loves the comfort of you, and something like that is hard to come by. 

He feels like laughing again but instead he finds tears on his cheeks. Silly boy, he can hear his mother tell him. You don’t give your heart to heartbreakers. 

So Doyoung falls asleep to the sound of upbeat music in his earphones, music he hates even just to pass the night. Morning will come and he will have to become stronger. Comfort is fleeting, after all.

With everything said and done, you know very well that if you were to tell someone you love them—genuinely, truly, from the heart—it would be Doyoung. It’s not a sudden realization, like the sky falling apart or a tidal wave crashing against the shore and sweeping away the city. It is like the gentle lapping of water, though, or the way the clouds change shape—natural and anything but alarming. You want to stare at it forever, and you want to believe that’s how it will be forever. 

“You told everyone we had sex?” Your voice is boiled to a shout. 

Hyungmin looks torn, lips moving but no explanation making its way out. “I- I told my friends, not everyone.”

“And you forgot that your friends talk? Everybody talks, Hyungmin, what were you thinking?”

He sighs before taking a step towards you. “Why are you so angry about it? As far as I remember, you had no trouble talking about whose pants you got into.”

You scoff. “With friends, not the whole campus.”

“That’s exactly what I did!” 

You cross your arms, feeling so upset you might cry and unsure as to why. You’re usually good at dealing with stuff like this, keeping things in the right place.

“It’s because of Doyoung, isn’t it?” 

You snap your head to Hyungmin. There’s a serene sort of look to him despite his unkempt appearance, and a look of understanding.

“I’m sorry. Really. But if you were so into him, you shouldn’t have called me that evening. It might not matter to me but…”

You broke his heart. All that devotion he had towards you led to this. 

“You’re right.” You choke on your words, leaning against the wall. “Fuck… Fucking…”

You turn around, making your way out of the hallway and hope the tears on your cheeks dry faster if you run.

You can’t remember the last time you ran. Your world didn’t need running from, it was right in the palm of your hands. Now that you look back, the world was always on your shoulders and heavy as it can be. Maybe you liked it—the weight. You could’ve shrugged it off any time; you didn’t need all those caging schedules or careful, elegant steps.

No. Atlas couldn’t shrug because his punishment was his existence. To have weight is to have meaning; and that is how you intended to live out your life.

Doyoung makes you see it differently. To love so fully even if it seems cautious—you, who has never loved at all, couldn’t comprehend it. And because he makes you see it differently, the box is now open and all hell is loose. 

For once, you don’t want to live in the world you crafted. You want more love, more hurt and you want to open the doors. You don’t mind hell if it’s for him.

You ring the bell to Doyoung and Ten’s apartment and pray the news hasn’t reached him yet. He said he was busy this weekend; maybe he was detached enough from his phone for once. You just want to be the person to tell him. It’s not a perfect apology otherwise.

Doyoung opens the door with pursed lips and cold eyes. There’s a sense of ease over his shoulders and arms but he won’t look at you and panic rises to your throat.

“We’re not fucking tonight, (name),” he says.

“That’s not- That’s not why I’m here.” Your voice is so meek, you wonder what happened.

Doyoung steps back, crossing his arms. He’s still looking at his feet and you feel the urge to reach for his face.

“I wanted to tell you- I… I just—”

“That you’re fucking other people?”

“God, Doyoung, stop with the fucking. I don’t care about that right now.”

“Really?” His voice is so sharp, it digs into your skin. “You were just in it for that. That’s the fun part in your stupid life, isn’t it?”

You feel a sharp pain in your nose and forehead. “You’re- Now that’s- Doyoung. I’m sorry. That’s what I wanted to say.”

“After—” His voice chokes up. “After everything is done? Stop with the excuses and face it for fuck’s sake. You aren’t made to fall in love. That’s why you dance around it all the time.”

Although he says that, he doesn’t sound angry. He sounds defeated.

“It’s not like you aren’t cautious,” you retort, throat feeling heavy. “You said it yourself- you don’t want to care too much.”

“I was wrong,” he says, voice hoarse. “I care about everything more than I’d like to admit. I care about you more than I’d like to admit.”

“The Hyungmin thing didn’t mean anything, okay? You were busy and—”

“So why did you lie?” He strains to not raise his voice. “Of course I knew our little thing didn’t mean shit to you. Why did you pretend it did? Last week, you said- you said—”

“Doyoung, last week- last week I- I wasn’t pretending, I swear.”

“You could’ve just saved yourself the trouble and the dignity.” A short, humorless laugh leaves him.

You feel your lips tremble, the explanation not quite made its way out yet. He looks so innocent like this, rabbit-like eyes watery and full of pain, pure the way they have always been. This is your mistake, isn’t it?

“Doyoung, please,” you manage to say. “That was wrong. I couldn’t clear up my head. Please don’t—”

“No. I was an idiot. Or you see me as one.” He frowns deeper, lips trembling. “I shouldn’t- I shouldn’t have. We shouldn’t have been at the same fucking party and I shouldn’t have drank so much. You’re- I’m not that kind of person.”

You bite down your lip. “What kind?”

Doyoung laughs, the sound raspy and empty. “The kind to not fall in love with you.”

It damn near breaks your heart to look at him. You have to say something, it shouldn’t end like this. You’re desperate and all you think is that you don’t want it to end at all.

“Please, I thought of you as a friend, that’s why—”

“And this is what you call being a friend?” he cuts you off.

You feel the sting in your eyes and nose, making you turn sharply to the side. You wish he’d just make you cry. It makes you feel the rancid guilt all the more.

“Make Hyungmin your friend for all I care. Let’s stop this.”

You stare at your feet, unable to respond. 

“You can have every boy in the world, (name). Don’t come to me.”

“Can you just stop talking about everyone else?” you yell, desperate. “Do I talk about your exes? Seungjae or- or what’s-her-name—” 

“That’s different!” He looks distraught, breathing heavily and with a painful red flush over his nose and cheeks. He runs his hand through his hair, tousling it further. “You lied to me, (name). You lied.”

Your cheeks are wet and the look that flashes over Doyoung makes you think he wants to step right out to you. He stays frozen in place, however, looking away to the side.

“Did you notice?” he asks softly. “Even once? How much I cared?”

You can’t answer, letting the tears drip down your face. It’s getting colder and colder. 

Doyoung bites down his lip before parting them. “All we did was have sex anyway. So please just- just leave.”

You take a long few moments but nod, hugging your coat closer and stepping out of his apartment. You think you hear Ten’s footsteps but it’s followed by the bang of a door—this is how it ends then.

The line between hate and love is thin; and you are deserving of neither.

You perfect your next semester’s academics, and the next. It still feels empty. You go out to drink with friends and return to a messy bed you sleep in alone. You smile as always and you laugh as always. No one asks you how you are as always. You never needed anyone to ask you how you are.

Ten tries but you push him away. You don’t need to drag in other people into a mess you made. He feels sorry for the whole thing but you tell him it was you that spilled the paint, Ten just handed a dash of it to you.

You were right. You don’t deserve Doyoung. At least, you made it so that you don’t deserve him. 

‘It’s better to have loved and lost than to not have loved at all’—it still hurts.

Every day is part of a list again. You doodled in some of the pages, when you thought you were starting to fall in love. There’s only a skeleton of it left now. Soon, you’ll let it crumble to dust too. 

You tear apart the planner sometime after graduation and cry and curse at yourself for doing that. No one’s good at parting with things they care about. You’re no exception.

It’s December again. 

This place is a little strange to visit right after graduating, especially with the memories flashing you by. Johnny said he booked one of the private booths (“A senior’s treat!”) but you feel your steps growing hesitant when you reach the neon signs by the stairs. It spells ‘The Meeting Place’ and smells of cigarettes just like it did the first time.

You stop midway up the stairs. For a moment, you think of Doyoung sitting there and wonder if you’ll ever be able to talk to him again. If you had the chance now, would you take it?

Of course, you wouldn’t. There’s too much to be set right and you can’t do it.

There’s supposed to be the six of you. Johnny mentioned Ten and you know Eunji’s invited too. You saw Jaehyun on the way here, still a student. You sigh. It must be him, the one they failed to mention to you. Kim Doyoung. There’s no one quite like him.

You spot him first. Looking a little forlorn as he gazes absentmindedly to the side, he faces away from you and you get the inevitable urge to run away. It’s a funny feeling. 

Your stomach is churning. You don’t want him to see you. Ten babbles on about something to Johnny, smiling like he found candy while clearing his drawers. Eunji looks tired, leaning against Johnny’s shoulder and you wonder if she already drank more than enough shots.

“(name).”

You jump at Jaehyun’s voice from behind you. 

“Hey,” you respond, giving him a wide smile.

He hesitates. “Are you okay? Not that you don’t look okay- you look really good actually. I mean, are you and… you know okay?”

“I don’t think so, Jaehyun,” you say and make your way to the booth.

It’s a little cramped for the six of you and Doyoung gets up before you can even greet him. It’s not like you deserve it anyway but it tugs at the wound.

“I’m going to go take a drag,” he mutters.

“You don’t smoke,” you say, looking up.

He stares at you momentarily and you look away. You think Ten and Johnny glance at you with pity but you don’t really care. 

 “Can I come with you?” you ask, barely a whisper.

“Sure,” he says, to your surprise.

The smoking area is so small, you’re surprised it’s even there. A glass structure overlooking the neighbourhood, there’s barely any light within. The only thing nice is how warm it’s in there. 

Doyoung lights his cigarette and then offers to light yours. It’s quiet, the music from inside numbed to the cold doors. You really can’t take it. You stub the barely consumed cigarette and throw it into the bin.

You’d rather just stay quietly in his presence.

“You’re not smoking,” he notes.

“It’s a bad habit.” You look out through the glass.

Doyoung chuckles. “You were a collection of bad habits.”

“And good ones too,” you quip. “I was a perfect student. I was perfect in most everything actually.”

Doyoung’s smile widens. “You were. You certainly were.”

A few more moments pass in silence, your eyes traveling over the outside scenery which seems to be growing duller by the second. City lights have never felt fainter.

“It was an accident, right?” You say suddenly. “The whole thing? Us?”

Doyoung hums. “Yeah. I fell in love by accident.”

You smile weakly. “Right. I never got to apologize.”

“I loved you on purpose.”

You look up at him. There’s not a lot of people who say what they mean. He looks the same as he used to under your grey blankets, with a warm blush over his cheeks and kind, wide eyes. 

“You’re so damn pretty,” he murmurs, “even now.”

You scan his face for signs of lying.

“You’re drunk, aren’t you?” you ask finally. 

Doyoung blinks before easing into laughter. “You- You’re- You’re the same as ever.”

You let yourself crack a smile.

“Doyoung I- I really am sorry,” you say quietly. “And I did- do care for you.”

Doyoung stubs out his cigarette and discards it before looking you in the eye. You notice he’s wearing his favourite black turtleneck in the proximity, the grey plaid coat covering most of it. You really liked that look on him.

“I’m sorry,” you say once again. “I want you to know that. I didn’t want to hurt you and I promise I won’t ever do it again.”

You mean it. You’re never going to hold glass again. He doesn’t deserve it.

“That’s a problem,” he responds, breath mingling with yours. “I want you… I want you to hurt me. If you really do love me, I’ll take it.”

“Doyoung,” you whisper, turning away despite your whole body screaming at you to give in. “I meant it. I can’t hurt you.”

Doyoung cups your cheek with one hand, glancing at your lips for a moment.

“You’re warm,” he says.

He’s warmer.

“I want to kiss you,” he says.

You want to kiss him too.

“We went about this all wrong, didn’t we?” he asks.

“We did,” you answer, voice barely above a whisper. “I did.”

Doyoung pulls back. “Then let’s start again. I’m Kim Doyoung, I majored in linguistics. I was student council president and I made a mistake.”

You smile. “We don’t have to do that.”

Doyoung raises an eyebrow. “After all the trouble I went through to make a good introduction?”

The two of you laugh, and it gets warmer. 

“I’m (name),” you say. “I was a top student and I made a bigger mistake, Kim Doyoung.”

“Oh? I wonder what it was.”

“Kind of a long story.”

“I’ve got all the time for you.”

You smile and start. He responds with gentle kisses. You’re piecing your world back together again; but this time it’s feather-light and fits right in the palm of your hand. 

[vogueinnie]

✍︎︎ 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐖 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍

       ━ WARNINGS ;  fem!reader, age gap (reader is 20 and seungmin is 27), mention of cigarettes, smut (focused on the reader’s pleasure), oral (f.), everything is just fluffy and awkward, kinda love at first sight      ━ WORD COUNT ; 2.2k      ━ NOTE ; feedback are so welcomed!!

“At your brother’s work ?!” You clear your throat and apologize for being loud, giving Yeji, your bestfriend, a death glare.

You were supposed to go at her house but, as clumsy as she is, she forgots the keys… in the house. You had two options ; go back to your own, which means procrastinating and giving zero fucks about your homeworks, or go to her brother’s work to take back the keys.

“Hum, yeah… But, there’s a little something… He needs his keys to close the shop, so… we have to work there…” Second death glare. “But you know him, he don’t give a fuck as long as we’re not noisy ! And his co-worker is cool too, I promise.”

You were friend with Yeji since you were a child. Of course you knew her old brother, Hyunjin was such a nice guy. He may seems cold on the outside but he has the warmest personality and had always made you feel like his own little sister even tho you haven’t seen him in a while, due to school.

You sighed at Yeji’s puppy eyes, nodding, knowing that you’ve already lost the battle. She was the best negociator.

That’s how you ended up in front of one of the most famous tattoo shop in your city. Indeed, Hyunjin was the owner of it with his long-time friend. They both were tattoo artists since more or less 2 years. According to Yeji, he was drawing before learning how to talk so it seems pretty logical for him to work in something artistic.

Without knowing why you felt a little bit uneasy, asking the blonde girl if she’s totally sure that it won’t bother Hyunjin and his friend to have you there. You were just students and for adults aged 27-28 years it could be annoying to hear you talk about your lessons. But she was quick to reassure you, even showing you her texts with her brother through her phone.

“Hyunjin ! We’re here !”

As soon as you entered the shop Yeji screamed at his brother and you clap your hand to her forehead.

“Shush ! What if he’s wor- “

“Hello to the prettiest girl heeeeere. No, Yeji, I’m not talking about you, you ugly rat.”

Your smile was immediate after the blond-haired and obviously tattooed boy puts you into a warm hug, patting your head while poking his tongue to his young sister, like the very 28 years old matured adult he is. He had no customers at the moment, and he was just working on some new design, but you can still hear some little machine noises so you guess his friend was tattoing someone in the practice room.

“It’s been a really long time Y/N, how are you ? C’mon, have a sit. Y’all need to work on your classes ? You can sit there, I’m just here, he shows you the sofa right beside the table with his index, if you need anything. You’re at home, here. Seungmin will be over in maybe fourteen minutes so you have time to work.”

You both nod in unision, sitting on the chairs to starts working on an unfinished cases while Hyunjin was giving you two glasses of water to finally go back to focus on his drawings. Yeji and you were sharing ideas, writing and making some researches on your respective laptops. No breaks were allowed unless you’ve finished what you’ve started.

“Maybe we should add the fact that... Hey, Seungmin !” Yeji’s smile was wide and she greets someone behind you, shaking her hands.

Politely, you turn around to face the one you’re supposed to be Hyunjin’s co-worker, Seungmin. You hold back your jaw from dropping on the ground the moment your eyes met his.

He was, honestly, the most beautiful human being you have ever seen. His dark purple hair where falling onto his forehead in a delicate way, covering half of his dark brown and absolutely magnetic eyes. His pretty nose was pierced with a silver ring and his lips were as pink as your burning cheeks. His broad shoulders were hidden in a large black t-shirt and at this right moment your eyes were glued to his inked forearms. Of course you’ve already seen inked people, Hyunjin was one of them, but him…There was something special about him.

“Hello ? Is anybody here ? Youhou, are you alive ?” You heard Hyunjin while he was moving his hands in front of Seungmin’s eyes causing you to cut the contact between the two of us.

Apparently, he was gazing in your eyes too.

“Yeah… yeah, sorry I was just thinking about... you know... stuffs. Hey, Yeji, you good?“ Even his voice was soft and smooth, almost honey-like. He comes closer to the desk you were working on so you immediately stand up, bowing down respectfully and you realized how taller he was compared to you. “Who are you ?”

You frowned your eyebrows, almost agape by his suddenly cold voice and distant attitude. Your eyes can’t no longer detach from each other, and you open slowly your mouth. Everything about him was fascinating, from his lack of expression to the way he was nervously playing with his fingers. Well, you supposed it was nervosity.

“I... I’m Y/N. I’m Yeji’s friend, I’m sorry if we’ve disturb you.”

He hums and nods, leaning over you to take his cigarettes pack and you gulp silently at your sudden proximity. His strong and wooded scent was all around you, making you melt. You had the perfect view on the two black eyes drawn on his throat and you almost felt judged by them from acting like a teenager. It felt like they were staring into your soul, knowing your deepest secrets.

But the most humiliating part was probably the Hwang’s suggestive look on you.

—————————————✰ —————————————

You were so stupid. Nobody could be dumber than you. You were at the highest rank of stupidity. Idiot was your second name.

You sigh, dry throat and shaking hands. You were at the front door of Hyunjin and Seungmin’s tattoo shop. Alone. Indeed, yesterday your brain wasn’t working like usual, thanks to one particular man, and you forgot your phone there. Yes, your phone. You were that distracted. It was 2pm and Yeji couldn’t come with you cause she had classes, but you didn’t. And you really needed your phone after almost a day without it.

You came into the shop, looking all around you to realize that Hyunjin wasn’t here. Seungmin was staring at you from across the room, coming closer to you with your treasure in his hand, and you had forget for a moment how much his inked hands looks like. You stare at the pretty heart drawn on his thumb, the long black line on his major digit and the word “ LOVE “ on his wrist. You were so focused that you almost forgot about your phone.

“You like them ?” You jump at his slow voice and you can feel your cheeks burning instantly. Were you really that dumb to fix your eyes on his hands ? “You can touch them, if you want.”

He puts your phone on the table near you, holding out his two hands in front of you. It was almost sureal. Two adults, standing in front of each other awkardly. You can’t hide the excited smile to grows on your lips and with softness you touch his tattoos with the tip of your index finger, retracing them as if it was a pen. You were surprised by the softness of his pretty skin.

“They are so pretty... You points at a cute little smiley on his other hand. This one is my favorite ! You hear him chuckles, looking at you with such fondly eyes you were so destabilized. You back off him when you realize the situation, biting your lips. I’m sorry... I... I was just... I mean, you know, my phone...”

“You can stay. He said quickly. Hyunjin isn’t here and I have no appointment. I’ve heard you were working on some juridic cases yesterday and I... Well, I have a master in law, so I was wondering maybe I can help you ?”

Your eyes widen in surprise, first cause he was offering you to stay with him, alone, and second cause he has done the same studies as you, something you wouldn't have thought of.

The both of you were then sitting in the sofa, casually talking as if you knew each other since forever. You’ve discovered that he didn’t wants to be a lawyer but his parents had always put some pressure on him to have what they liked to call a good job. And it wasn’t his way of thinking, he wanted to feel free, to love his job and not to feel any pressure from anyone. He was so kind to you, making you more feel comfortable than yesterday. Shy, sweet, talkative and curious about anything you’re saying. A 28 years old man, mature, understanding and independant.

Needless to say that you didn’t talk about your school lessons, but just about the two of you. Also needless to say that you were fascinated. There was just something about his eyes scanning you everytime you were talking, and it felt so good to be the center of his attention. Your conversations were so fluids, you couldn’t hold back yourself to talk and to look at his beautiful features.

“Mind if I draw on you?” He cuts you off when you were talking, grabbing his colorful pens that was near him. He looks at you with his still hypnotic dark eyes and you nod your head with a shy smile. He kneels down infront of you on the ground as you were still sitting on the sofa. You internally thank the beautiful days for allowing you to put on a skirt. “Can I draw on your thighs? I mean, I have a big idea! But I want you to discover it, but if it makes you uncomfortable I-”

“No, no! It’s ok! You can, of course, do it Seungmin. I trust you.”

He smiles timidly, probably knowing that he got a little carried away. He was so passionnate about art that you couldn’t refrein him to do what he has to.

Seungmin then starts drawing on one of your legs, starting from your ankle to your knee. He draws pretty colorful flowers on your skin, it was so soft and beautiful you can’t stop staring at his work on you. He quickly reaches the level of your thigh and he was so close to you that you felt his hot breath against your shivering skin. You felt you mind dizzy for a moment, as his lips were also close to you. Unconsciously you tighten your legs between them, which makes him raise his face to look at you. His pupils were now totally black and this view of him between your legs was all you needed to lose your mind.

You softly grab his hair, making him smirk and immediatly starts to kiss your two thighs. He was so soft, taking his time to discover all of your sensitive spots. And you ? You were already lost, spreading your legs slowly so he can be placed correctly between them. Your inner thighs was his target, he sucks your flesh and you whines at the feeling.

“Please...” You see him smile, licking everywhere but your heat spot. Even your pubic area was drowned in sweet kisses. “Please, I... Do something I can’t...”

Seungmin hums, gripping your legs so they can rest against his shoulders. He lifts your skirt up, moving your pantie on the side and take his time to look at your intimate parts with hungry eyes. You clear your throat, embarassed that he looks at you like that and he gives your clit a kiss.

“So fucking pretty... Fuck, Y/N you’re so pretty, look at that pretty flower...” You chuckles at the surname he gaves to your womanhood. 

He doesn’t waste any more time and starts kissing your wet folds at a slow pace, taking his time to taste your wetness. His tongue was heaven like against you, he was so precise and slow, you couldn’t contain your moans escaping your mouth. His plump lips surround your bud, sucking on it and circling his wet muscle all around your swollen one. 

Your legs tighten against his head as you feel the heat waves crashing against your lower abdom like a delicious torment.

Two of his fingers join his tongue and he finally insert them in your clenching wetness. Your eyes rolls back the moment you feel yourself kinda full, but you lost it the moment he curls his fingers inside of you to stroke your sweetest no-return point.

You moan his name, biting your lips, moving your hips against his magical mouth as he helps you rode your orgasm, pumping his two fingers in you while licking tirelessly your folds and clit the fastest as he can.

Your breath was cut, and you can feel him gives butterflies kisses on you, replacing correctly your clothes on you. He stands up, cleaning his own fingers by licking them which make you blush at the view. He strokes your messy hair, kissing your forehead with a reassuring smile.

“I think I’ve found my muse.” 

[beardrabbles]

rock solid bonds.       pt. two

characters: zhongli, female reader, gimel ( geo hypostasis )

warnings: none

word count: 2,520

notes: well, this took me too dang long to get to! got caught up writing other things, but i hope it was worth the wait. i’m fleshing out a plot for this along the way, and i’m hoping it makes sense in the end! but for now it’s just fluff. lottsa fluff and semi-slow burn. thank you for reading!! you’re a treasure.

Even if you hadn’t arrived at Wangsheng Funeral Parlor the night before and formally signed your name on the contract Zhongli had meticulously drawn out, you would have kept to your word and arrived at Gimel’s island the next morning as promised. You had little with you, since you were reminded with a rather stony voice that this was meant to be an exercise in understanding and not an opportunity for battle. All you had in your little bag was a tightly wrapped lunch, a book and another vial of the concoction you had brought the day before — just in case.

No weapons. No hostilities.

You felt odd keeping your hulking claymore out of sight, but it was for the best. You weren’t looking to actively sabotage yourself, after all, and the arrangement wasn’t an awful one. All Zhongli had asked of you was to be civil towards the hypostasis and to sincerely make up for the damage you had caused. No matter how unintentional it had been, you knew it was right thing to do.

“Gimel?” You had considered hiding behind one of the walls and calling out, but concealing yourself now seemed like a silly idea. Although, calling out the element’s name to the open air felt just as silly.

The ‘ arena ’ was empty, the domineering shadows of the surrounding outcroppings shifting away as the sun rose higher over the horizon. You couldn’t feel the usual vibrations through your feet, and that only added to your concern. Every hesitant step took you closer to the center of the circle that made up Gimel’s home.

Was it still afraid? Or had it fled knowing you would be visiting more frequently? You wondered if it were possible for it to take up residence elsewhere and if that would, somehow, spoil both of the contrats you had agreed to. Hot panic was on the verge of squeezing you hard around the chest when you heard a sign behind you.

Startled, you let out a little squawk and whipped around.

“Mr. Zhongli!” You were partially relieved to see him, partially irritated that he had approached so quietly. “I didn’t know you were there.”

“I apologize for the fright.” He sounded genuine, but the fact that his gaze was trained on the center of the circle didn’t elude you. “When did you arrive?”

“Not even five minutes ago.” You smiled sheepishly. “Had a rough morning, but I’m here.”

“I can see that.” A fleeting smirk flickered across his features before he pursed his lips and cast his eyes around the arena. “And our friend?”

“Hasn’t shown up.” You shifted uneasily but masked it as adjusting the shoulder straps of your pack. “Can’t really blame it.”

“Time and patience. Sincerity. The wounds you’ve left won’t be healed so soon.” Reminded your companion. You sighed and slipped your pack from your bag.

“I know. I just — I want this to go well.” You huffed and sat down heavily, pack beside you. When you looked up and found you were the only one seated, you patted at the ground beside you. Zhongli blinked once, processed the request, then came to join you. You weren’t sure why, but it was amusing watching a man so tall and proper folding his legs as he settled down. Yet he didn’t look the least bit out of place, his serene expression matching the gentle whisper of the wind. In the growing light of day, he seemed to glow, as if soaking in the blooming heat of the sun like light-starved soil and warming rocks.

“If that is your true desire, then I believe all will go according to plan.” He assured you. You were mesmerized for a moment — was that optimism or confidence? You couldn’t tell, but both were appreciated.

“You’re really sure?”

“I have been around for a long time, and I like to believe that I have become quite adept at reading people. Although.  .  .” He paused for a moment, lips turning down. You leaned in.

“Although?”

“Hu Tao says I can be quite oblivious at times.” Zhongli admitted. You snorted, drawing his attention.

“I wouldn’t have guessed it. Wait, Hu Tao. Isn’t she the director of the funeral parlor? Doesn’t that mean she’s your boss?” You asked. Zhongli nodded once, and you continued. “She doesn’t mind you slacking off and comin’ out here to see Gimel?”

“I am merely a consultant. My services are required only when they are needed. When I have no work to attend to, I tend to wander.”

You hummed and leaned back on your hands, eyes up towards the brightening sky. “Do you wander out here a lot?”

“I’ve found myself visiting Gimel more often as of late.” Zhongli said with a sideways glance. You frowned and refused to peek in his direction purely out of guilt. “I like to check on them every now and again, just to see if they’re recovering properly.”

“I didn’t think they needed to recover.” You grumbled.

“Our world is no different than our mortal forms,” started Zhongli, “it can and will hurt if people aren’t careful. We can leave wounds. Look around you — these islands are proof. Gimel is no exception. While it is acceptable to harvest from a hypostasis, harvesting too frequently can leave it permanently damaged. It needs time to rest, to regrow. Tell me, did you notice anything strange the last time you fought it?”

You thought back for a moment, trying to recall the last battle you engaged the hypostasis in. It had been two days ago, you remembered. It had rained heavily in the area, leaving the ground muddy, the stone slick and the sands clingy. It had been both a blessing as a curse, or you’d thought that then. Thinking back, you did think it strange that the basalt pillars it created weren’t as strong as usual. You wanted to blame the rain, but that had hardly been your first encounter with it in the middle of a drizzle.

 “I saw them crumbling. I thought it was the rain.” You finally answered.

“That is a logical assumption to make, but you are aware of the truth now.”

“Yeah, I am.” You slumped forward, elbows on your knees and chin held in your hands. “What about other people? What are we going to do if someone else comes here expecting to find Gimel?”

“We will give them the chance to change their mind.” Zhongli shut his eyes and took in a deep calming breath. “May I ask you something, Miss Y/N?”

“Sure. Go for it.” You shrugged and fell silent, allowing him the chance.

“Thank you. I hope I’m not being terribly invasive, but what were you doing before your contracts bound you?” The question was asked delicately, leaving you room to deny him an answer if it was one you were unwilling to give. And while it did surprise you, you weren’t sure that you had any reason not to answer.

“Honestly, nothing and everything. I didn’t have an actual job. I just sort of.  .  . did what people asked me to do. I ran errands, I lent a hand where it was needed, I’ve babysat.” You let out a small, bitter laugh. “Now I’m a servant for the damn——!”

You clamped your lips shut and shrank into yourself. Without looking, you knew Zhongli was staring sharply in your direction.

“For whom?”

“Does it matter?” You pulled your knees up and scowled into them. A moment quietly slid past, and you still felt his eyes on you. His piercing gaze bore a hole in the walls you had abruptly thrown up, and you found yourself squirming uncomfortably. “Fine, it’s the Treasure Hoarders.”

“I had ventured a guess, but I wanted to hear you say it.” Zhongli sighed through his nose. “Have they hurt you or your family?”

“No.” You shook your head. “Not yet.”

“You anticipate a change?” He wondered.

“I’ve never known them to be totally honest. They’re a small group with a dumb name, but they’re loyal to their leader. Well, both leaders. The guy in charge thinks that if he can get me to find all these treasures for him, he can present them to whoever’s above him in the ranks and get himself a lovely, safe position in the group.” You scoffed. Zhongli arched a brow.

“You seem to know an awful lot about this mans intentions.” He pursued carefully. At this, you allowed the barest hint of a simper appear.

“He’s an idiot. He talks loud because he thinks it makes him intimidating. It only makes him look like a moron when he tells everyone within hearing distance what his plans are.”

Zhongli couldn’t help but to chuckle. “Am I to assume he is.  .  . how have I heard it phrased before? Ah, right. All brawn and no brains.”

It was your turn to laugh now, but the sound was a surprise when it left you. Despite your first encounter with him being tense and awkward, you realized now just how at ease you were around him. He radiated peace and understanding, calmness and patience. Lately, those were all feelings you had seen a distinct lack of. Where the Treasure Hoarders were brusk and unforgiving, Zhongli aimed to educate and reshape.

You wouldn’t have assumed for a moment that you would find yourself casually talking to him after all that had happened the day before, but you were glad for it.

“He is.” But as you both fell into a comfortable silence, you began to grow curious about the man beside you. You didn’t want to shatter the quiet you two had created, but the realization that you wouldn’t have many days like this with him prompted you to turn towards him and devote all of your attention to him. “When did you meet Gimel?”

Zhongli was taken aback, and you couldn’t help but to wonder if he had become too comfortable simply sitting next to you. His amber eyes fluttered, then grew distant, as if peering at something in the far-flung distance.

“I don’t believe it’s an exaggeration to say I’ve known them my whole life.” He started. “I can’t seem to think of a time when I haven’t known them. The form has changed, but they’re still the same.”

“Sounds like you’ve always been connected. Guess that explains the Geo Vision.” You leaned back to glance at the crystal attached to his coat. He turned his head to look over his shoulder, but realized he couldn’t see it. Instead, he settled for admiring you and the way your eyes shone when you glimpsed his faux Vision.

“Do you have one?” He asked.

“No.” You sighed loudly and fell back, laying across the stone and resting your hands on your stomach. “Visionless! Not worthy. Haven’t done anything in my life that warrants the gods blessing me.”

“I don’t believe that.” Zhongli frowned, his stony expression marred momentarily by disapproval. “Lacking a Vision does not make a person unworthy.”

“But it does make the people that have one super special, right?”

“I.  .  .” Zhongli stopped, made a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat, then rerouted his thoughts. “You don’t believe you’re special?”

“Not at all. Do you?”

“Do I what? Believe I am special because I have a Vision, or do I believe that you are special?” His counter question was sudden and took you aback, like a sudden slap to the face. You gaped, and when you didn’t answer, he dared to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” You huffed.

“Your face. It turned the most interesting shade of red just then.” The smile he passed you was soft and kind with the faintest trace of amusement. You felt your cheeks burn hotter and quickly turned away to hide it, but it was too late. “Don’t be so quick to dismiss yourself. I sense potential in you.”

Your stomach knotted and your lungs were madly aflutter, all thanks to those words. Out of habit, you wanted to deny him, but the tender way he spoke was too reassuring not to latch onto.

“You’d be the first to.” You spared him a quick, embarrassed glance. “Thank you.”

“Think nothing of it. It costs nothing to build a person up.” He reminded. You frowned, but not out of unhappiness. There was now a solid, burning determination in your eyes that Zhongli barely glimpsed when you stood. “What are you up to?”

“You just said that it doesn’t cost anything to build a person up. It should be the same for elements, right?” You grinned broadly, then cupped your mouth with your hands. “Gimel! I don’t know if you can hear me, but if you can, I want you to know that I’ve always thought you were really amazing looking!”

You paused, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Looking down your shoulder, you found Zhongli nodding approvingly.

“You, uh.  .  . Actually, if I’m being honest, I’ve seen a few hypostasis! I’ve seen the ones in Mondstadt, and the one in Dragonspine! You were always the one I was the most excited to see, even if it was to come fight you. You’ve been the toughest too. And I’m sorry!” You enthusiastic shouting was met with silence, but you thought for a moment that you felt the ground beginning to vibrate again.

As quickly as the sensation came, it left again, leaving the bottoms of your feet feeling numb. Had the hypostasis acknowledged you, or had you mistaken your quickly beating heart and rushing blood for the thrum of an elemental life force?

Your shoulders drooped, and your chest felt heavy.

“Don’t lose hope. I think what you said was lovely.” Zhongli encouraged. You sat down again and dragged your pack forward, drawstrings loosened.

“Thanks. I know you’re right. I know it’s going to take more than just saying nice things to fix what I did, but I’m going to do it. Even if we hadn’t made that contract, I’d be here.” You pulled out the lunch you had brought with you and carefully unwrapped it. “But all that shouting made me hungry, and we’ll be here for a little while longer. You want some? I made it myself.”

Zhongli made to shake his head, but you gave him a stern glare before he could.

“Don’t even. You need to eat too, you know.” You portioned out your food, placed it in his hand, then giddily began to scarf down your half. Zhongli felt an odd stirring in his chest as he glanced down at the food you’d prepared. You misunderstood the sudden admiration and gratitude for hesitation, so you nudged him gently. “I’m not the best cook in the world, but I’m not bad either! Trust me, it’s decent.”

“It smells wonderful.” Zhongli bowed his head. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it! Quick, eat it up before it gets cold.” You paused your chewed and pocketed the bite in your cheek. “I can bring something tomorrow too if you end up liking that. Sound good?”

Zhongli nodded, and the feeling in his chest grew more agitated. “I look forward to it.”

[bangtanbetchfics]

friction | iii - knj (m)

genre: office au, romance, smut rating: explicit // 18+ pairing: kim namjoon x reader word count: 4.5k suggested listening: better - boa | up no more - twice | temptations - boa | mmmh - KAI | playlist warnings: explicit language, explicit/casual sex, masturbation, enemies to lovers, light bondage, light dom/sub, sex toys summary: your pesky and overworked assistants meddle in your relationship with your sexy rival -- kim namjoon -- and find themselves caught in the crosshairs of love and all-out war. notes: this is one of my favorite pieces i've written! i hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it. content is too hot to put above the fold, so go ahead & dive in. ;) finale & last chapter coming next week. encouragement favs & kudos help! :') navigation: ch. i | ch. ii | ch. iii | finale | m.list | ao3

“Namjoon...what kind of game are we playing?”

You smile through the question -- because no, it couldn’t be true that Namjoon tied you to his bed and left you there. The vibrator in your underwear suddenly changes speeds, and your mind is immediately drawn away from the thought.

“N-Namjoon?”

Your nipples stand up from the stimulation below, and your wrists twiddle around in your restraints. Your toes press into the bed and you gasp as the vibration grows a tick more intense.

You groan at the fact that you’re unable to control your pleasure, and you wriggle around the mattress trying to find some form of release.

The vibrator slows down for the first time and you whine as you toss your head side-to-side out of frustration.

Your eyes are shrouded in black -- still no sense of time or space around you. Your interview with Yoongi was definitely today, and you gasp as you recall.

Suddenly, it dawns on you that Namjoon removed your smartwatch before he tied your wrists to the bedpost.

“Okay Google, f-fuck,” You groan, biting your lip.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t quite get that.” Your watch responds, and you continue to whine and tug at your restraints -- nearing the peak of your release.

“Okay Google, what time is the event: my interview with Yoongi?” You plead, gritting the question through your teeth.

“The event: your interview with Yoongi was at nine A.M.”

“What time is it now?” You ask, feeling your underwear start to dampen.

“It’s nine forty-five A.M. Is there anything else I can help you with?” Google inquires. You whine before the watch shuts back off from a lack of response.

Just as you’re at the tip of release, the vibrator cycles through a variety of speeds repeatedly, and you feel a gloss of tears form over your eyes.

Your desire for relief causes you to hump the air, but you yelp when the vibrator kicks to top speed -- erupting your body into a bright, white heat.

The sounds of your frantic breaths start to fill your skull -- your throat running dry from your moans. The vibrator was still going, and you whine, knowing that it meant you were at rock bottom again before you could reach another release.

Despite this, your senses now seemed to be heightened -- your body aware of every neuron within and around it. You could now sense the earthy breeze coming in through the bedroom’s slightly ajar balcony door; your body slick from the heat you formed working your way up to an orgasmic release.

You could feel sweat droplets trickle down your skin -- and you notice the remnants of Namjoon’s cologne in the space.

After a moment you realize Namjoon really is gone.

The smell of his cologne floating in the air was always the last step in his routine before he left for work.

✹✹✹

Namjoon waits outside of Yoongi’s office, looking down and studying his phone.

The screen has a choice of three buttons to press: low, medium and high -- and he toggles between the three quickly. He looks up and sees Yoongi approaching him, and Namjoon’s fingers hesitate over a final button. His thumb settles on high and he presses it, his lips curling into a slight smirk.

“I’m ready. You comin’ in?” Yoongi asks, hanging out from his glass doorframe.

“Yeah, totally. I’m all set.” Namjoon replies, clicking his phone off and slipping the device into the front pocket of his slacks. He grabs his leather portfolio and stands up, making his way into Yoongi’s office.

Namjoon sits down and crosses one leg over another, looking over a few notes in his portfolio.

“So, before we get started...do you know where your Vegas partner in crime is? Haven’t heard from her today. It’s so unlike her.” Yoongi states, looking at his watch.

“She was actually supposed to be my first CEO interview this morning.” He mentions, sucking his teeth in disappointment.

“That is strange. I’m not sure. She just might be tied up with something at the moment, I suppose?” Namjoon shrugs as he responds before looking up at Yoongi.

“Maybe...” Yoongi’s eyes drift into his head to think, but he shakes his head and focuses back on Namjoon.

✹✹✹

Your ears perk up as you hear footsteps in the hall and you start to gently tug at your silky binds.

“Namjoon...?” You inquire in a low, scratchy voice -- nearly breathless. You feel his weight compress the bed and you press your head back into the pillow.

Another wave of warmth starts to fill your body as his finger traces a straight line from the top of your abdomen to your bellybutton. You quickly heave as you try to anticipate where his fingers will land, and you moan as he reaches into your underwear.

“You’re soaked,” Namjoon comments, pushing the vibrator closer to your clit, causing you to arch your back off the bed.

“Let me g-“ Before you’re able to protest, you let out a pleasurable cry as the speed increases on the vibrator. You bite your lip as more moans try to escape your lips.

The sensations coursing through your body send you into an elusive wave of pleasure that washes over you for the sixth time that afternoon. You hum before your body jerks up furiously from the overstimulation and ends in a tremble.

After your comedown you’re only able to lay still as your chest heaves, and Namjoon slips the silk ties from your wrists.

You groan at the relief, your wrists tender from the restraints. You feel his lips tenderly kiss and soothe your wrists, and you use your now-free hands to lead him down toward your lips.

You kiss him passionately, his tongue slipping into your mouth.

You feel him remove his wool coat and toss it to the ground, the warmth of his body enveloping you as he climbs on top of you.

“Ow-” He suddenly feels a hard nip at his lip and he looks down at you, watching you remove your blindfold.

“Are you happy you made me miss my interview?” You snap as you glare up at him, shoving his chest away from you. You reach into your underwear and slam the vibrator onto the night table.

“Classic asshole move,” You grumble, reaching to the floor and slipping your body into your skirt.

“Fuck, baby. Please,” Namjoon dabs at his lip with his finger, looking at the slight blood on his fingertip.

You throw your suit jacket on followed by your coat and heels as he sits up on the edge of the bed. He tries to grab your wrist, but you whip around to look at him.

“You used me. You’re insane. Let me go.” You grit through your teeth.

Namjoon looks at you in shock, his eyes wide.

“You made me miss something I’ve been working for my entire life. Endless nights -- alone to get where I am. I can’t believe I let a few nights with you rob me of that.” You scoff as you think about it, loosening your wrist from his grip.

“God. Don’t speak to me ever again.” You say firmly before you leave the room. He reaches his hand out in vain behind you, watching you walk away.

“You know what? I’m the insane one...” You mumble to yourself, your heels clicking across the wood floor as you head toward the front door.

✹✹✹

The next night, your eyes focus on your computer screen -- the familiar blue light illuminating your tired eyes. You couldn’t move or blink, feeling imprisoned by the thoughts from the copious amount of interactions for the last nine hours.

Taehyung’s typing outside of your door finally comes into focus, and you sigh -- inhaling first, and then blowing out air from your mouth to release some of the tension from the day.

You throw your head back in your chair and it leans back halfway, a slight release occurring in your tight muscles.

You lick your lips and it brings the slightest twinge of arousal to the top of your thoughts.

Normally, Namjoon’s lips would be buried between your thighs right now -- but not tonight. If you couldn’t have Namjoon by night, it was before work or for a quick afternoon romp. That of course wasn’t the case anymore, and you sigh.

You bite your lip to distract yourself from the thought, and Taehyung raps on the glass of your door.

“Excuse me...sorry to interrupt. Your meeting with Yoongi is in about five minutes, so you might want to head up.” Taehyung looks at you, and you can tell he’s forlorn at your situation.

“Great, thanks Tae.” You nod as you sit up, refusing to hold eye contact with him to avoid feeling any further regret than you already did.

You shut down your computer and gather your things, throwing your coat over your forearm.

“Have a good night.” You say quietly, and Taehyung waves at you as you slowly walk off, head hung low.

✹✹✹

As you wait for Yoongi to return, your eyes scan the glimmering cityscape. You look down and swallow, the appeal of this office -- this view -- not as glamorous as it seemed a few months ago.

“Sorry about that. Had to use the men’s room really quickly.” Yoongi mentions as he closes his door, and circles back around to his desk.

“Wanna tell me what happened?” He sits and stares at you as he awaits a response.

You twiddle with your fingers in your hands, a nail depressing into the flesh of your skin.

“I...” You bite your lip as you feel tears well into your eyes.

“It’s just so unlike you to throw an opportunity like this away.” Yoongi prods, and you look up at him.

“I know. I’m so ashamed.” You respond, your voice trembling.

Yoongi sighs in disappointment, his fingers drumming the table.

“I-I was hoping for another-“ You start, and Yoongi shakes his head.

“You know I can’t do that. Don’t put me in that position. There are so many qualified people applying for this role.” He says, shaking his head again. “You were my top choice and you just didn’t show up. That tells me that you’re just not ready to handle the pressures of this position -- that you’re not taking it seriously. You can never have an off day leading a company of this size and scale. Do you understand that?” He says firmly and you nod, swallowing your tears down your throat.

“No. I do understand, Sir. Thank you for your time.” You stand up and collect your things and bow deeply to him.

Yoongi lets out a deep sigh in disappointment as you walk out.

You take large strides as you make your way to the elevator bank.

As soon as you hear the ding of a car, silent, hot tears flow down your face and you sob.

✹✹✹

The next morning you head toward the kitchen in your office, the sound of your heels echoing throughout the silent hall.

You open a drawer and reach for a Keurig cup -- choosing an Irish coffee flavor. You purse your lips, figuring its the closest you’ll get to alcohol this early in the morning.

You press the cup into the coffee maker, and you hear the machine pierce the plastic container. You hear the coffee start to flow into the paper cup, and you make your way to look at the city from the floor-to-ceiling glass windows.

You hear another set of footsteps, and you turn around to see Jimin. You knew he was Namjoon’s assistant, but he seemed to dress sharply for his role despite that.

Jimin stops in his tracks as he notices you staring at him, and he approaches the other coffee maker cautiously.

“Uhm, good morning,” Jimin says, his voice rising at the end of his greeting. He pulls a cup from a stack, looking at you.

“You’re Namjoon’s assistant, right?” You ask, folding your arms across your chest.

Your eyes were somehow incredibly intimidating in the moment, and it causes Jimin to shrink in your presence.

“Can you deliver a message to your boss for me?” You ask, raising an eyebrow and grabbing your cup.

Jimin gives you a silent nod as he stands frozen in position.

“Tell your boss he’s a fucking asshole.” You say cooly, blowing the steam from your cup as you stomp off.

The air returns to Jimin’s lungs, and he sighs as he rests his hands on the cool counter.

✹✹✹

“Sir, I have a message for you,” Jimin says, rapping at Namjoon’s office door.

“Not now Jimin.” Namjoon says curtly, continuing to write on the piece of paper in front of him.

“It’s an important message. It cannot wait.” Jimin says firmly.

“Fine, go ahead.” Namjoon sighs, sitting back in his chair.

“The CMO asked me to let you know...” Namjoon perks up, his eyes growing wide. “She asked me to let you know...”

Namjoon’s eyes grow dark, his stare turning into a cold impatience.

“Just say it, Jimin.” Namjoon demands, tossing his gold pen onto the table.

“Uhm,” Jimin hesitates, but bites his lip once he sees the look on Namjoon’s face. “She said to tell you that...um, and I quote: you’re a fucking asshole.” Jimin cringes as he says it, running back to his seat.

Namjoon sighs and clenches his jaw before he runs his hands through his hair. He chuckles out of frustration as he leans back, looking around his office.

✹✹✹

Taehyung’s phone rings, and he immediately picks up the line.

“God Taehyungie, it’s really bad over here,” Jimin whispers at the other side of the line.

“No, I know. I had to stay until eight last night helping her. She seemed pretty upset.” Taehyung sighs.

“Same here. She told me to tell him that he was a fucking asshole,” Taehyung gasps on the other end. “Normally they’re together, but now they’re both pushing themselves into overdrive at the office instead.” Jimin groans.

One of Taehyung’s vacant phone lines starts to blink.

“Hold on a sec Jiminie,” Taehyung presses the line and he nods as he hears the voice on the other end.

“Okay, yes. 63rd floor. Sure.” He smiles a bit and a glimmer of hope swells in his heart.

“I have to go.” He tells Jimin, hanging up the phone.

“Uhm, miss. Looks like someone is really sorry,” Taehyung says, watching a delivery man hand you a bouquet.

The bouquet screams sorry, the vase filled to the brim with a dizzying array of roses, tulips, lilies and orchards.

You roll your eyes as you see a small card tucked into the flowers: From Namjoon, and set the glass vase on your desk. You toss the card into the trash before diving back into your work, but Taehyung holds his hand up.

The delivery man enters again, this time with two large, differing bouquets: one of one hundred decadent red roses -- the exact number of days you’d been together with Namjoon before you split.

Another bouquet arrives of one hundred pink, white and yellow roses, and you inhale the scent of the flowers as its set in front of you.

You’re unable to process the moment as the man brings in seven more bouquets -- your office filled to the brim with a floral aroma. You close your eyes and inhale the scent of the flowers once more, the look in your eyes forlorn.

Taehyung looks at you with a soft smile, but he watches you quickly come to -- returning yourself to a state of anger.

“The monthly board meeting is in about three minutes as well,” Taehyung’s voice registers in your head, and you look up at him and nod.

You tippytoe and step over the array of flowers lining the floor to leave your office -- making your way down the hall.

✹✹✹

You lean against a wall outside of the conference room, and you check your watch as you wait for people to arrive.

A man in a crisp grey and white checked suit walks down the hall. His black hair is slicked back over his head, and a small wisp of carefully placed hair sits over one of his eyes.

“Excuse me? Jackson?” You squeal, approaching the man.

Jackson turns his head your way and a smile envelops his face.

“My god, look at you?” You bite your lip, slicking your fingers over the fabric of his suit. “You’ve fucking made it to the big leagues, Wang.” You giggle, continuing to look him over.

“Look at you,” He throws the phrase back your way, his bright black eyes scanning your curves. He’d been after you for years and was fully basking in your attention.

Namjoon finally arrives, staring directly at you as he walks past the two of you. He watches people leave the room from the previous meeting, but his eyes dart back over to focus on you and Jackson.

Your giggles fill the hall as you and Jackson interact, and Namjoon feels jealously boil in his blood. After all, you were tied to his bed -- fully his, just a few weeks ago. You weren’t his anymore, but the sexy visions of all of the moments you shared were overtaking his thoughts: your silhouette in the shower, the water trickling from your body underneath the searing Vegas sun, the two of you hooking up repeatedly -- unable to get enough of each other.

The memories of your moans were tangible enough to feel on his lips, and he clenches his jaw as he watches the two of you.

Your eyes float over to Namjoon, and Jackson notices as he follows your eyes.

“Ah, trying to make him jealous?” Jackson smiles as you look at him quickly, and then back to Namjoon. “It can be our little secret.” He whispers, nudging you in the arm before you shake your head.

You glare at Namjoon and roll your eyes before you focus a smile back at Jackson. Jackson pats you on your lower back, lightly guiding you into the conference room.

✹✹✹

As you enter, you pick a seat near the front of the room, and you subtly watch Namjoon hesitate to pick a seat. He exhales from his nose before he gets the gusto to sit across the table from you. You glower at him, and he smirks, satisfied with himself.

“So, the agenda was established previous to this meeting. Let’s just hop right in.” Yoongi starts, flipping through a few papers before him.

“First thing’s first. As you all know, we’re looking to lock a new CEO by the end of the year. That’s going to be challenging with the holidays, but I promise you we’re close,” He slams his fist on the table.

“God dammit, the next person could very well be right here in this room.” He points around the room and smiles, looking everyone over as the room erupts in a light chuckle.

Namjoon leans back in his chair with an air of arrogance, his fingers drumming on the table.

You angrily squeeze the pen in your hand, and look up with a smile -- trying to seem indifferent, but it was hard to be at the moment; indifferent that you were too busy chasing love and lost the biggest opportunity of your lifetime.

Your eyes catch Namjoon’s drumming fingers and you glare at him.

“Now, moving into updates from our CTO,” Yoongi points at Namjoon and he nods in response.

“So, earlier this year I attended the TechX conference to represent the product...”

Halfway through Namjoon speaking, you find your thoughts drifting to what’s happening below you.

You catch yourself hanging onto Namjoon’s lips: his plushy bottom one, the thick Adam’s apple bobbing up and down his throat, the deep valleys of his voice making you wet.

You find that your eyes shoot up to meet his, and then move to a brow that raises on his forehead.

You clear your throat and try not to look at him, but at the papers in front of you instead. The bundle of nerves between your legs were betraying you in the current moment and you weren’t sure what to do to quench your thirst. 

Your eyes float back up to Namjoon’s again, and this time you can’t help but lace them with lust. Your head falls into your hand as you watch him intently, tripping him up on his words.

After he finishes speaking you stare each other down, a storm swirling in both of your gazes. He swipes his tongue on the inside of his cheek as you stare each other down further, the tension tangible between the two of you.

“Lunch will be served momentarily. We’ll reconvene in ten minutes to finish up what’s left on the agenda.” Yoongi’s voice cuts through the taut revulsion that bounds the two of you.

You immediately stand and head toward the exit -- looking over your shoulder at Namjoon before you leave.

Namjoon stands, buttoning his suit jacket taut over his body.

Yoongi is about to call Namjoon over, but notices him follow you instead. Yoongi crosses his arms over his chest, and a series of thoughts finally click together in his head.

✹✹✹

You saunter down the hall and you give Namjoon a look before you enter a small phone room.

The door is frosted and there’s only enough room for a floating desk and chair, and you slide back on the desk.

You raise your brows as you hear the door click open, and your fingers clench the edges of the table as Namjoon enters the room and locks it.

Your eyes scan the breadth of his frame, and you watch him slowly approach you -- his body landing to tower over yours.

He tosses his leather portfolio onto the desk, and your heart starts to race as your lungs fill with the spicy, sinful scent of his cologne.

Namjoon’s thumb and forefinger align with the edge of your jaw, his fingers tensing around the bone as he tilts your head up to meet his. His lips hover over yours in a hot hesitation as he hones his eyes on your dark, unwavering gaze.

His nose grazes over your neck to inhale your scent, now laced with notes from the flowers in your office. His eyes laser in on your lips, and your glare at him intensifies.

“Did you get my flowers?” He asks, still looking down at you.

“No. Not a single one.” You answer curtly, your nostrils flaring as you clench your jaw.

Namjoon blows a hint of annoyance from his nose, your loathing gaze only growing more penetrating.

“Why’d you follow me?” You ask, your voice thick with desire as you look from his lips up to the smoking lust in his eyes.

“You really don’t know?” You’re nearly breathless as his lips draw closer. You try not to let it affect you, but your toes curl up in your heels — your nails sinking into the wood grooves of the desk.

“No, I don’t know,” You breathe in. “Tell me.” You say with a deep exhale, an achy desire coating your throat.

You heart is ready to burst how much you craved him in this moment -- but you refused to give into him first.

“I’m here because I saw you looking at me with those hungry eyes like the very first day I met you,” His voice is rich and velvety, sending chills down your frame.

His lips brush yours, and it makes your own lips vibrate with heat -- the sensation knotting your core.

“Yeah...and what about it?” You breathe out.

He hums before your lips crash together, the room nothing but feathery moans and sucking sounds.

You pull your lips from his, licking the notes of sugar from his morning coffee from your lips as you roll his tie around your wrist. He collapses down and his hands fall to the desk on either side of you.

“I saw you looking at Jackson and I. Were you jealous?” You tease breathily into his mouth, jerking him closer to you by his tie. His nose grazes yours and he smirks.

“No...because you still want me,” He responds, his hands in your hair as he moves in to slip his tongue in your mouth.

“No I, mmh-“ you protest as you come up for air before both of your lips come together again.

“If you wanted him, he’d be here with you right now.” You let out a moan into his mouth at how right he is, grabbing the lapels of his jacket as your tongues intertwine.

“I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me,” He whispers, his breath hot in your ear after he pulls his lips from yours.

“I don’t...this is just a one time thing,” You lie, your head falling back as he kisses your neck -- the stubble on his chin scraping your flesh. You let out light moans as he sucks your neck, and his hands move to squeeze your waist.

“Be quiet...do you want the entire office to know how much you want me?” He demands, your breaths shuddering.

Namjoon’s hands press into your lower back and it makes you stand up, his hands wandering to your ass. His lips and hands were like magma, leaving fire in its wake wherever it went.

His desire makes you moan, his tongue swiping under yours as your arms reach around his neck to massage his hair.

“Liar,” He whispers as he backs you up against the wall, his hands gliding over your ass and landing in a smack. You gasp, the tail end of it a whimper that he captures with his tongue.

“Hush.” Namjoon whispers in your ear before he grabs a handful of your ass and smacks it again. You mewl, your hands wandering his firm, broad chest.

“You’re making me so hard right now,” His voice vibrates in the shell of your ear and you gasp as your hand wanders to the warmth of his cock, feeling how hard he is in your palm.

“Stop talking, we have five minutes,” You say breathlessly, and he pins both of your wrists to the wall. He pulls your skirt up to your waist -- sliding his hand into your underwear.

He dips his finger inside of your warmth, and he drags your taste down his tongue.

“Mmm fuck, I could take you right now,” He breathes out.

“Right now?” You ask, breathless. “No...” You say as his lips envelop yours again and you pull away for air.

“I think I’d rather have you tie me up in your room again because you’re threatened by me.” You state, and it makes him growl as he dives back into an open-mouthed kiss.

“Fuck, I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” He moans into your ear as his fingers slip inside of you. You groan at how wet you are, and you can feel yourself drip down his fingers.

“How many times did you imagine this?” He whispers, and you clench around his fingers as a burning heat fills your cheeks.

Your arms tighten around his neck and your fingertips crinkle the fabric of his suit as you near your peak. His fingers drag against your cushiony g-spot, and it triggers your release. He seals his lips to yours to hold your moans, and he pulls you close to keep you upright.

He licks his fingers clean and you kiss him, tasting your essence on his lips.

After a moment you pull your lips from his and he grazes his nose across yours a few times to try and recapture your lips.

Your hand smooths from his arm up to his shoulder, and you trail kisses up his neck. You use your free hand to palm him, and you tug at his ear with your teeth before you speak.

“I hope the job was worth throwing all of this away,” You whisper, removing your hand from his bulge as Namjoon gasps.

Your hands move to snap your skirt back down your hips, and you pull your hair from its updo to cover the blooming love bites all over your neck. You smooth the lapels of his jacket back down before you look up and relish in the flabbergasted look on his face.

Namjoon runs his hands through his hair, his cock still rock hard as you leave the room.

“Fuck.” Namjoon grabs the portfolio from earlier on the desk, using it to cover himself as he exits the room.

✹✹✹

After you return to the conference room, you dig in your bag and pull out a compact. You bite your lip as you adjust your hair -- making sure no dark spots on your neck are visible.

You reapply your lip gloss, and Jackson kicks you underneath the table. He mouths “Did you...?” to you and you widen your eyes with an innocent look on your face. You steal a quick glance at Namjoon as he enters, looking down at the portfolio over his pants and back up to his eyes.

Namjoon sits, putting his elbow on the table. His fingers subtly meet his nose, and you watch him inhale the remnants of your sweet scent on his fingertips.

He tightens his jaw and you smirk, clamping your compact shut.

navigation: ch. i | ch. ii | ch. iii | finale | m.list | ao3

[juniaships]

Loonatics Reboot: Origins

The cousins of the world-famous Looney Tunes, the Loonatics are resident protectors of the progressive city-state, Acmetropolis. Currently there are seven members headed by their mysterious mentor, but for now let's dive in deeper into the origin story of the first six Loonatics. We'll get to number seven in the future! 💛💛💛

The story goes, the Loonatics came about by chance. You see, not too long ago six individuals volunteered for an experiment conducted by the city's namesake ACME (the business). As all of them needed the extra cash, they didn't mind being used as temporary guinea pigs if it meant having the funds to pursue their dreams or pay the rent.

Unfortunately the test did not produced the expected results and was marked off as a failure. While the group were paid they were disappointed & went back to their normal lives.

Until abnormalities started cropping up.

One volunteer, a college freshman named Lexi Bunny, began hearing things, increased migraines, and physically cringing at even moderately loud sounds. Such condition affected the way she moved and grooved to the beat (she was an avid dancer) and one day, she had passed out from the pressure and sent to the emergency room. While she recovered she began seeing everything in a pink haze. Lexi didn't know exactly caused her health emergency but she had a feeling that it had something to do with the experiment. But she kept quiet, she wasn't one to stand up for herself, remembering a horrid incident trying out for her school's cheer squad. She wondered what the other volunteers were feeling...

The second volunteer was an Acmewood stunt artist named Ace Bunny (yeah yeah he's related to Bugs now let him train in peace). Whenever Ace felt particularly confident, he saw his vision turn red...literally. His eyes burned no matter how much ice or eyedrops he used. During rehearsals he started to notice how every time someone went to strike him, he dodged them every. Single. Time. Many of the crew members lucky to see were impressed, shocked even (much to the displeasure of the lead actor) & leaving the Looney cousin embarrassed at the increased attention.

The fourth volunteer was a scientist named Tech E Coyote. Like Duck he also lost his job though unlike Duck he was on the receiving end of an angry coworker. The poor man was left to craft consolation contraptions in the solitude of his workshop. One night he noticed some pieces of metal clinging to his lab-coat. At first he brushed them off but they stuck to his hands. He made a note to himself to use anti-static softener; but after several wash days the problems persisted and very soon larger pieces of metal started clinging to his clothes, hands, all around his body - one incident he knocked himself out with a frying pan! He also took notes of lights flickering around him, computers and screens turning on and off whenever he walked near them.

The third volunteer was a young man barely out of his teen years simply known as Duck. Danger Duck. He worked as a pool boy ironically had a hot temper. To put it best he loathed his job, feeling not being taken seriously by the oh-so-macho lifeguards that picked on him constantly. One minute he was complaining about his job, and the next thing he knew, he was standing in the middle of a desert. Than back to the pool. Than an artic region! He also complained of tingling sensations in his fingers, as if he dumped his hands in a bowl of cut peppers. And after one particularly frustrating day, he got so made he raised his threw something at the lifeguard... something red-hot and round...which nearly costed the lifeguard his life yet ALSO caused Duck to lose his job.

Rev, a pizza delivery man with a sense of words and no sense of direction, was the onlt one whose problems weren't seen. Not at least externally. During his trips he was relieved to not miss addresses as much as he used to. Maybe a stroke of luck he guessed. But now it seems his brain was replaced by a GPS because days by he can verbally recite the location almost every place in Acmetropolis from the tallest skyscraper to the dingey of alleyways. Not even having to travel to these places.

As for Slam, his already phenomenal strength increased tenfold, and so did his speed. Such growth massively helped his wrestling career. Every time he spun however, he swore he felt and heard the crick-crackle-boom of lightning...which one day during a match he accidentally electrocuted his opponent, promptly suspended for the rest of the season. At least the guy was alive...a cooked steak but alive.

Eventually these side effects took their toll and the citizens finally had enough. Weeks after the test the group went back to Acme to report on what they were experiencing, hoping to get some compensation to pay off frequent trips to the hospital.

To their surprise ACME was pleased to hear the results of the experiment had been successful after all. The CEO, Otto Matthias, saw potential in the ragtag group of Tunes and offered them a deal: work for his company as sponsored superheroes. There was a mixed reaction: Tech was skeptical, as was Lexi and Slam. Ace didn't know what to think of the deal, he wanted to be recognized for his talents. Danger was the only one totally on board with the plan (no more finding lost trunks). Rev was also excited yet nervous at the prospect. Otto added that the offer came with free housing, access to any and all Acme products, and a lifetime supply of Scooby Snacks (much to Slam's fancy).

Duck didn't have to hear anymore before immediately agreeing to the deal. He did not want to go back to being a lowly pool boy or any other position to be laughed at and bullied, and saw the deal as a surefire way to success. The rest of the group & Scooby Snack Slam decided to wait a week before giving their answer. Acme signed Duck as Danger Duck, the Living Magma Extraordinaire! Cool name is it?

Throughout the week the remaining Tunes pondered long and hard about the company's offer. Would this deal really help them find meaning in their otherwise pitiful lives? Or was it all a glorified corporate tactic designed to keep them quiet? Danger Duck, Living Magma Extraordinaire seemed to be having a good time, so they might be missing out on a stable fulfilling lifestyle. Surely it wasn't an evil trick? Right? Right??

The answer to their dilemma showed uo at their door. Literally.

For five days, each person received a visit from a woman dressed in a simple lavender coat with the hood drawn up. From the shadows they could make out ruby-colored lips, yet her eyes seemed to lack irises as they were entirely blank-white.

This woman claimed that she was the creator of the drug and that is was not meant to be in mortal hands. She claimed that Acme stole her formula for personal gain, warning them the CEO was not who he seemed & that they shouldn't take his word. When the civilians asked about Danger Duck, the woman vowed she would do everything in her power to try to steer the young man from a terrible fate.

"How do you know I can trust you?" That was the sentiment shared by the five Tunes, in varying words.

The woman only smiled. "It's all up to you," she simply replied before handing out a shiny triangle with the familiar shield logo on it.

As each Tune took the metallic shape in their hands, they wondered how would this hunk ol metal help them decide their future? The lady's words echoed through their minds...maybe...the shield was a emblem of their roots. How did she know so much about them and so concerned about their lives?

By the morning of the last day, it was Ace who came to his decision first. "I'll believe you," he relented. "If only you'll tell me more about this drug you made."

The woman shook her head. "I'm afraid that'll have to come in a group meeting," she said a bit tersely. The truth is too much to bear on one man.

"Here." She scribbled a few words down on a piece of paper. "Meet me at this location later this afternoon. Don't bring anyone else."

"Okay," Ace said a bit skeptically. He was about to ask more but the lady quickly left with a hurried goodbye. Ace blinked his blue eyes before reading what she had wrote. "I hope this ain't gonna land me on a watchlist," he muttered before starting to prepare for his impromptu meeting. He prayed that he made the right choice.

I'm making this as I go along XD

My goal for this chapter and the next one is to give the team a better backstories and the why and HOW they got together. I know the show had an origin episode but it didn't show them their first mission or how they actually met, only how they got their powers. As this is a reboot there are a lot of changes so instead of being set in the future, it's set in modern era and they're cousins of the Looney Tunes. I'm also trying to give them motivations: Danger Duck seeking fame and fortune; Tech seeking recognition for his genius; Ace forging his own path out of his cousin's shadow. I haven't gotten to Slam & Lexi's motivations as much as that would be for when I get to writing Weathervane (who will be Lexi's foil) and Massive (Slam's foil). Rev's motivation will also be explored as him learning to be more independent away from his family's wealthy lifestyle. As for my OC Mikayla Jordan, she's going to appear in a future post pertaining to the Freleng Royal Family oop spoiled my own OC subplot XD

[storiesforallfandoms]

sneaking you out ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 1801

request?: yes!

“Can you write teenage!mgk imagine but i have no have idea! because you wanted to write 😄”

description: in which your best friend decides to sneak you out for the first time 

pairing: machine gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing, underage drinking

masterlist

You were in your room, watching TV before you went to bed, when you heard a sound at your window. You got up to see what the sound was, and jumped when you saw a face looking in your window. You covered your mouth to stifle a yelp as you realized it was just your boyfriend.

You opened the window and helped Colson in. You put a finger to your lips, silently telling him to keep quiet.

“What are you doing here?” you whispered. “My parents will flip if they catch you.”

“I parked my car a down the road a bit,” he responded. “I’m here to sneak you out.”

“No! Bad idea! Colson, they already don’t like you as it is, if they catch you sneaking me out they’ll ground me for life and forbid me from seeing you.”

“Hey,” he said, taking hold of your head to draw your attention to him. “Relax, I have a plan. You said your parents never check on you after you’ve gone to bed, just tell them you’re going to bed early cause you’re really tired. We won’t be out too late, and I’ll sneak you back in just as silently as I’ll sneak you out.”

You looked over at your clock to see that it was only 8pm. You weren’t sure if your parents would believe that you were going to bed early, but it was worth a shot.

You got up from the bed and moved to the door. You opened it, just a crack, and looked up and down the hallway to make sure your parents weren’t around. You called, “Hey, mom, dad, I’m gonna go to bed early. I’m feeling really tired all of a sudden.”

“Alright sweetheart, get a good night’s sleep,” your mom called back.

“Goodnight,” you called before closing the door.

You turned back to Colson, who had an excited grin on his face. “Alright, get dressed and let’s get you out.”

You weren’t sure where it was Colson was planning on taking you, so you just pulled on a pair of jeans and a hoodie, and the only pair of sneakers that you kept in your room (for emergencies, and this definitely classified as an emergency).

Your bedroom was on the second floor of the house, but luckily enough it wasn’t all that high off of the ground. Colson exited the window first, landing silently and looking into the window on the ground floor to make sure your parents weren’t there. When the coast was clear, he gestured for you to follow. You turned off your lights and the TV so that your parents would think you were asleep, then sat yourself on the window sill. You shot one last look over your shoulder, almost making sure they weren’t there, before pushing yourself off and falling to the ground.

Colson caught you and put you down. The two of you looked through the front windows of the house, almost breathing a sigh of relief when you saw that the living room curtains were drawn, before taking off in the direction of Colson’s car. When you were finally in his front seat you realized how fast your heart was beating, and you couldn’t tell if it was from excitement or nervousness.

Colson started the car and began to drive in the opposite direction of your house, as not to risk having your parents spotting his car.

“Where are we going?” you finally asked.

“That rock show I was telling you about,” he responded. “It’s an all ages show at a bar, and I know the bartender there so I can slip us some drinks on the down low.”

You liked the idea of that. Not only were you sneaking out for the first time, but you were going to sneakily be underaged drinking. You suddenly felt like a bad girl, and you loved it.

A short drive later, Colson was pulling into the parking lot of a bar that was already half packed with a lineup out the door. The show was due to start in about half an hour and everyone was jumping at the chance to get in.

The line was moving quickly and, before you knew it, you and Colson were slipping in through the doors. The place was completely packed and it was hard to get through. The amount of bodies crammed together in the small bar caused the place to feel hot and humid the minute you walked in. Colson took hold of your hand and held it tightly as he navigated the two of you through the place to the bar.

You were pushed up against the bar by the flock of people who were trying to get drinks. Colson stood behind you with his arms around you, protectively, as he waved a hand at the bartender. He was a younger looking guy, only a few years older than Colson, with such a kind face you could see why he had been hired as a bartender. You almost instantly felt comfortable around the guy.

He approached the two of you with a smile on his face. “Hey Colson! Glad you could make it, man. This your girl?”

“Yeah! (Y/N), meet Travis!” Colson said. “Can we have some Pepsis with a little added flavour in them?”

Travis winked at the two of you and poured up two glasses of Pepsi with a splash of rum. He put two straws in both and passed them back to the two of you. “Free of charge since it’s a gig night.”

“Thanks Trav!”

Colson led you away from the crowd but still close enough that the two of you could see the stage. You took a sip of your drink, scrunching your nose as you tasted the bitter flavor of the rum. Colson chuckled at your reaction.

“Have you never drank before?” he asked.

You shook your head. “Not really, no. I’ve had a sip of mom’s wine before, but even that tasted gross.”

“It’s an acquired taste. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to drink.”

Colson drank nearly half the glass in one long suck of his straw. You hit his arm, causing him to almost choke on his drink as he laughed. “Slow down on the alcohol! You’re driving!”

“I’m only gonna have one or two drinks, by the time the show is over I’ll be sobered up.”

You sighed and took another sip of your own drink. By the time you got to the bottom of the glass, you found yourself liking the taste of Pepsi and rum. Colson took your glass and went to get you a refill, returning moments later and taking you in his arms protectively.

By the time the band started to play, you had a pleasant buzz going on and you were dancing to the music. True to his word, Colson started drinking water and only water after his second drink, but even while half buzzed he seemed to be having a good time. He held you close as you danced, causing you to basically be grinding on him at one point.

“Are you having fun?” he called over the loud music of the band.

“I am!” you responded. “I’m so glad you snuck me out, baby. I would be such a stick in the mud if it wasn’t for you.”

Colson laughed and shook his head. “You were never a stick in the mud, babe. You just have really strict parents. They’re trying to keep you on the right path and not have you be corrupted by a hoodlum like me.”

You giggled. “Who the fuck says hoodlum anymore?”

Colson smiled and kissed you in response.

The night came to an end much quicker than you wanted, however that was probably a good thing because by the time Colson had gotten you to the car, you were properly drunk and the time on the clock read well past midnight.

“Oh no!” you said. “We’ve been out so late! My parents are totally gonna kill me!”

“I bet they haven’t even noticed,” Colson assured you. “Don’t worry about it, babe. You’ll be home in like 10 minutes and asleep in your bed and your parents will never know the difference.”

Colson drove back towards your house with the windows down as the cool air kept your suddenly nauseated stomach at bay. He parked the same distance away as he had been when he came to get you and helped you out of the car and to walk silently towards your house. All the lights were now off, but you saw that the window to your bedroom was still open, meaning your parent’s hadn’t come into your room to shut it or anything.

Colson helped you up into your room first before silently climbing in yourself. You tried to remain silent as you found the pajamas you had discarded hours before on your floor and changed back into them, shoving the clothes you had been wearing under your bed. You sat down on your bed and took hold of Colson, pulling him down with you and giggling as you did so. Colson had to cover your mouth to muffle the sounds.

“Do you really have to go?” you whispered. “I’ll set an alarm, we can get up early and get you out of here before my parents wake up.”

“I would love to stay, but I don’t think I should be risking getting caught babe.” He kissed your nose before finding your lips in the dark. He kissed you for a brief moment before pulling away. “Did you have a good time at least?”

You nodded, but realized he couldn’t see you. “I did. It was the most fun I’ve ever had. Thank you for helping me live a little baby.”

Colson chuckled and kissed you again. “You don’t need my help to live, (Y/N), you can do whatever you want with whoever you want.”

“But I prefer to do it with you, because I love you a lot and I want all my best memories to be with you.”

Colson smiled in the dark and helped you to get under the covers. He laid with you for a while, making sure you weren’t going to be sick or anything, before kissing you deeply once more.

“I love you, too,” he whispered. “I’ll be back to get you for school in the morning. If you feel hungover, drink lots of water and try not to let your parents catch on.”

You sleepily hummed in response. Colson kissed your forehead before silently slipping out the window once again. Moments later, you drifted off to sleep, dreams of Colson and all the things you wanted to do with him in the future filling your head.

I’m sorry if this is bad. It didn’t turn out how I wanted it to :/

[teamred]

beautiful stranger

summary: you sneakily take photos of a cute boy on the train to send to your friend. when the cute boy sits down next to you, you realize you weren’t as sneaky as you thought you were. pairing: peter parker x reader warnings: fluff, mild language word count: 1.7k words

prompt: “I was trying to take a sneaky picture of you because i told my friend about the hot guy on the train and she wanted to see but you totally noticed and yeah this is awkward” au from here

gif created by me, please credit if using

is it illegal to be this cute????

You texted your friend on the way home from school, hiding your face in your phone while sitting on the subway. Only a few steps away from you, a beautiful boy in a blue sweater grasped onto the pole as he listened to music. He stepped onto the train a few stops ago and now, you couldn’t stop staring. 

istg im sweating n dying from the close proximity of his presence 

hes not even that close

is htis normal?????

Slowly peeking up, you stole another glance at the boy. His attention drifted to his phone while your eyes danced over his sharp jawline and strong features, which contradicted against his overall sweet face. 

Saying he was beautiful was an understatement. You were so drawn to him, like a moth to a flame.  

Suddenly, he began to smile and laugh from whatever he was doing on his phone. Your heart burst then and there, causing you to hold your phone close to your chest in hopes it would contain the invisible chaos. Your friend texted you back:  

-!!! send me a pic!!! let me see!!!

fine okay gimme a sec

Lifting your phone up a bit, you angled it enough to get a decent shot of the boy, but not too high to make it obvious. You attempted to take the picture as if you were taking a selfie. Although a bit difficult since the train rattled casually, you successfully took the photo and even had extra shots to send to your friend.

-okay he pretty cute 

-u should say smth!!! 

?? what would i say “hi i think ur cute lets go out sometime”??

-yea??? thats how meeting ppl works?? 

As you texted your friend back, the person sitting beside you stood up, ready to leave the train. Without moving your head, your eyes darted to the empty seat. Then, you glimpsed at the boy, who seemed to be making his way towards you. Your phone practically fell out of your hands when you replied:  

omg the seat next to me is empty i think hes going to sitdown 

-make ur movE OR ELSE U WILL NEVER SEE HIM AGAIN

-DONT BE A PUSSY!!

You tried your hardest to pretend you were preoccupied with your phone, but all you could do was wait for the handsome stranger to sit down. Without looking up, you heard the boy ask the lady standing in front of you if she would like to have the seat, but she politely declined. The pounding in your ears was too difficult to ignore, but you still tried your best to drown it out. It felt like forever before he sat down next to you. 

You weren’t even sure which app you were scrolling on at this point and you really couldn’t care less either. All you could think about was your friend’s text. 

Make your move. Make your move. Make your move or else-

“Hi.”

You froze, unsure if you heard a voice. You glanced around before your sight landed on the attractive figure next to you. The spotlight was all on you, with his earphones off and a smile plastered across his face as wide as a football field. Was he actually talking to you?  

“Hi.” 

Your eyes fluttered as fast as your heart in an attempt to look into his sparkling, brown eyes.     

He leaned a little closer to you. If you weren’t sweating already, you definitely were sweating now. Did you remember to wear antiperspirant today? You clenched your hands in a fist, with your phone still in hand, fighting against the urge to check. 

“Can I ask you something?” he whispered. Of course he had a sweet voice to match his face. You nodded. 

“Do I have something on my face?” 

Tilting your head in confusion, you shook your head in response. “No, I don’t see anything.” 

The boy sighed a relief, relaxing into his seat a bit. “Phew, that’s good. Just wanted to make sure I look good for my picture.” 

“Hm?” 

The mysterious boy gestured towards your phone. He came in closer to whisper again—

“Rule #1 of the Selfie Rulebook: you should always try different angles to get the lighting right. You kinda just stuck your phone out in one direction and that was it.” 

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. He knew. 

“Well, what if I’m confident in my selfie angling? Maybe this is my best side.” You held your phone out, mocking yourself from moments earlier. You were already caught, may as well die with the lie as long as you can.  

He chuckled.

It really was illegal to be this cute. 

“Then I can’t really argue with you. Please take my most humble apologies, oh, Selfie Master.” The boy placed a hand on his chest, dipping his head as if bowing. 

Almost instantaneously, defeat took over your body. You placed your palms against your face, covering yourself in shame. Maybe if you held still long enough, the embarrassment would fade and the cute boy would forget what happened.  

“Was I that obvious?” you groaned behind your palms.

“Only to me.” 

You peeked through the slit of your fingers to find him still smiling at you. 

“Why’d you take photos of me? Art project on collecting photographs of beautiful things? I had to do that once.” 

You wondered what (or who) he took photographs of for his art project. If this conversation didn’t end in flames, maybe you could ask him. Your hands drooped down, resting upon your thighs.  

“To be honest,” you closed your eyes and inhaled deeply, ready to confess. “My friend was curious about this cute guy I noticed on the subway. I needed proof to validate my taste in men.” 

After a moment to exhale, with your eyes still closed, you heard him reply:  

“Well, let me say that your taste in men is impeccable.” 

Opening your eyes, despite the warmth that radiated from your cheeks, you smiled shyly. Taking a chance, you introduced yourself and held your hand out. 

“I’m Peter,” he took your hand in his and shook it. Both of you lingered on the shake longer than expected, causing you two to giggle.  

“Which school do you go to?” you asked. 

“Midtown Tech. You?”

“Same!” 

“Really?” Peter wrinkled his eyebrows. “I haven’t seen you around before.” 

“Just transferred,” you shrugged in response. 

“Well, if you ever need help with anything, I’m always happy to help. Well, not anything, but, I mean,” he scrunched his nose while rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m always here. To help. With things. Most things.” 

Laughter filled the air between you two. You opened your mouth, but stopped in your tracks when you noticed your stop was coming up soon. Just because you two went to the same school, it didn’t mean that you would ever bump into each other, especially in the sea of a few thousand other kids. It was now or never to make your move. 

“I’d love to stay and chat, but my stop’s coming up soon. I don’t normally do this, but do you want to exchange numbers and maybe meet up for coffee or something?” The words spilled so quickly from you, you weren't sure if Peter caught everything. He stared blankly at you for a moment and you almost repeated yourself when he said— 

“Definitely.” 

In a hurry, you practically dropped your phone into his hand. His fingers breezed over your phone as he typed in his info before handing it back to you. You were about to text him to ensure it was the correct number, but you saw that he already did so. The name Peter Parker was at the top of the conversation and a “Hi!” stared back at you. 

“Got your text,” Peter held up his phone as confirmation. Unwillingly, you stood up, beaming down at him, and adjusted your backpack over your shoulder. 

“Where do you have to get off?”  

“Actually,” Startling you, he stood up too. “My stop passed already.” 

With your mouth agape, you shook your head. “Wait, what? Why didn’t you-” 

“I wanted to find out the name of the pretty girl who was taking my picture,” He mirrored you, adjusting the strap of his backpack over his shoulder as well. “but I’m glad I got more than I bargained for.” 

Your mind couldn’t compute what Peter was saying; all you could do was blink incoherently. The train slowed down as you walked towards the doors with Peter trailing behind you. Both of you stepped off towards an empty side of the station near a rusty pillar.   

“Well, I have to get to the other side,” Peter gestured towards the platform across from you. Still in awe, you smacked your lips together and nodded. “It was really nice meeting you. Hopefully, we can see each other soon. Get home safe.” 

His cheeks puffed from his emerging soft smile. You died a little on the inside. 

“You too, Peter. I’ll see you around.” 

You rushed away down the stairs, bolting away from what felt like a dream. At the edge of the entrance of the station, you paused abruptly to check your phone. 

-??? WHAT HAPPENED TELL Me

-dont leave me hanging like this!!!

According to the timestamps of the texts between you and your friend, the whole interaction with Peter lasted a mere ten minutes. You chuckled in disbelief as you answered your friend: 

i have the number for one (1) peter parker!!

he goes to midtown too!!! 

and he thinks i’m Pretty 

-!!!!!!!!

-im so proud of u!!!!!!

In the middle of replying, you had a notification of a text from none other than Peter. 

*Hi! Long time no talk. 

*I don’t want to come off as impatient or weird, but is it too early to text you? Should I wait? 

*(If so, we can pretend these texts never happened in the first place…)

He wasn’t even there anymore, but your cheeks tingled once again. With a grin, you said: 

(((you can text me only if we pretend i didnt take pictures of you on the train)))

You placed your phone back into your pocket and walked home, still revelling in all the events that just occurred. Coming up to your house, you opened up Peter’s response—

*Deal :)  

[nessiesspeakeasy]

Tropemas Day 02: What I want for Christmas

“Oops,” Rhys said in a daze as he stared up at the cloudy sky. He’d slipped off the ladder and landed in the snow on his back.

“Oops?” a deep voice echoed. Jack glared at him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Falling for you, obviously,” he laughed. When Jack didn’t, Rhys rolled his eyes.  “Alright, I was decorating your house.”

“What?” Jack blinked and looked around. Rhys watched the fury start to build. “You-”

-----

Rhys notices Jack isn't decorating this year and ends up helping more than he realized.

You can read this on my AO3!!!  And if you wanna leave me a ko-fi, feel free!

Rhys smirked as he set up the lights just after Thanksgiving. His neighbor, Jack, hadn’t even started yet. Last year, they’d been up the day before Thanksgiving. Last year, they had spent every waking moment trying to out decorate each other. They had gotten into several arguments with each other over it.

This year, though…  It had been quiet next door. Quiet and desolate. He’d hardly seen Jack through the month and now it was only Rhys decorating. Well, that was that, then.

Rhys worked his way through and around his house, making it gorgeous. He glanced at Jack’s property throughout the day, though. It really was strange for Jack not to be working outside.

Still, four days later, Rhys found that Jack’s home seemed just as empty as ever. He hummed. It didn’t look the same deserted as it was. He bit his lip and decided to try something. He moved one of his decorations across the border and into his yard. He waited a day. When nothing happened, he decided to take some initiative.

-----

Angel sighed and then coughed. She lay on the couch like she had been when her siren transformation had started. Her dad had shut the house down and doted on her night and day and it was nice, but… 

He hadn’t decorated this year for Christmas and she was missing it. She stared at the window with the blinds drawn closed. She sighed again and then froze. Someone was outside. That couldn’t be right, her dad was in his office doing a few hours of work.

Quietly, she sat up and went to it. Her body ached, tired and worn, but she continued to peak through the wooden slabs. She covered her mouth as she gasped. Their neighbor, the one dad always argued with, was decorating their yard! She smiled. She’d always loved Rhys and she loved him even more now. She went back to the couch and smiled to herself.

“You seem happier,” her dad said at dinner.

She shrugged. “I feel a little more rested.”

He smiled. “Good. Would you like to watch a movie tonight?”

“Okay!”

Angel cuddled into her father as they picked a movie. She liked these times through the change when her father slowed down and they could just be together. She lay on him, her eyes slipping closed.

She woke up on the couch to a yell and a crash. She jolted upright and then almost fell back onto the couch, .

Her dad came running in. “What the hell? Angel are you alright?”

“It wasn’t me! It was from outside! I hope that wasn’t Rhys!”

“Why would it be Rhys?” He went out the front door.

-----

“Oops,” Rhys said in a daze as he stared up at the cloudy sky. He’d slipped off the ladder and landed in the snow on his back.

“Oops?” a deep voice echoed. Jack glared at him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Falling for you, obviously,” he laughed. When Jack didn’t, Rhys rolled his eyes.  “Alright, I was decorating your house.”

“What?” Jack blinked and looked around. Rhys watched the fury start to build. “You-”

Rhys sat up and looked around. He supposed that maybe he’d gone a little overboard, but he’d wanted it to match his house.

The window was opened. “Rhys! Are you okay? It looks so good!” Angel called.

He waved to her. “I’m okay, thanks for asking!”

Jack eyed his daughter and then sighed. “Fine, but only because Angel likes it.”

Angel gasped. “He can do the inside too!”

“No, he can’t, sweetheart.”

“Yes! He! Can! You want some cocoa Rhys? That was a bad fall.”

There was silence between them. Rhys was just about to excuse himself when Jack sighed. He reached down and helped Rhys to his feet.

He firmly walked Rhys into the house and then locked the door behind them. Rhys felt a twinge of panic begin, but then his body stiffened and he understood.

“Oh.” He walked ahead of Jack and into the living room where the young siren sat on the couch. She had small, white, feathered wings growing from her back.

She smiled and waved at him. She looked absolutely strung out.

Rhys smiled and let his own wings unfurl, turning visible while he did so. They were a vibrant blue with a bat-like look to them. A very subtle surge of electricity spread through them. He went over to her and knelt down.

“Yours are going to be beautiful. Wanna look and touch mine?”

She nodded.

Rhys sat on the couch and turned so she could have unrestricted access to them. His eyes met Jack’s. They were hard to read, but he could tell he’d surprised Jack at least.

“How long did yours take?” Angel asked.

“A year, but I have to admit it’s cause I kept trying to get rid of them. It wasn’t safe for my parents to know, but they kept growing back so I ran away to my uncle’s house. He kept me safe while I fully transformed. I don’t recommend doing what I did. Once I was safe, they only took a little over a month.”

“Then I’ll have them by Christmas!”

Rhys smiled. “You could be the Christmas angel.”

She wrinkled her nose.

That made him laugh.

Jack left and came back minutes later with hot cocoa.

“Thank you.”

“Thanks dad!”

“So, can you sense each other?”

Rhys answered. “Only when we have fully grown wings, that’s why Angel knew about me, but I didn’t know about her until I was in her house where the concentrated energy was.”

Jack nodded.

“No one else around here is one, Jack. Angel’s safe.”

“Good.”

There was a pause before Rhys looked at Angel. “So, you want this place decorated?”

“Yeah! We haven’t had time since I started the change.”

“Well, if your dad’s okay with it, I’ll get this place so decorated, everywhere you look will be Christmas.”

-----

Jack hadn’t been sure of Rhys, especially not after last year when they’d gotten into a heated competition over their yards. Now, with Angel, he was beginning to see a good side in Rhys. It was a gentle, sweet one that had Angel lighting up like the front of their house.

However, he glared at Rhys, holding a real Christmas tree in their doorway. “We have one already.”

Rhys frowned. “I don’t remember seeing a tree?”

“It’s still in the box.”

“Why would-” Rhys gasped, looking utterly disgusted. “You use a fake tree? Do you even have a Christmas spirit?” He began to push into Jack’s house. “What was last year, then? Were you actually decorating for Christmas or just being competitive? Cause if you were just competitive, I totally won last year.”

“Like hell you did! A fake tree is just as good-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence!” Rhys snapped. He walked into the living room, dragging the tree behind him. “Angel, your father is insane! He’s trying to tell me a fake tree is just as good as a real one!”

Angel giggled where she lay on the couch.

“It is!” Jack growled.

Rhys stopped and shoved the tree at Jack. “Do you smell that, Jack? That’s the smell of Christmas! You don’t get that with a fake tree!”

Jack stumbled away, the sting of pine needles in his nose. “Ow! What is wrong with you?”

Rhys ignored that as he stopped and sighed, dropping the tree to the floor. “I bet this means you don’t have a tree stand. I’ll have to go home and get one.” He stepped over the tree. He was almost tall enough, but he had to jump the rest of the way and ended up tumbling into Jack.

He caught Rhys easily, though they stumbled into the wall. He found to his great surprise that he liked the feel of Rhys against him. He did not let go of Rhys, instead waiting for him to move away.

“Ya fallin’ for me, cupcake?”

“Tch, fall for a guy who thinks a fake tree is the best tree?” And yet, Rhys did not pull away. They stared at each other for a long moment before finally, he pulled away. “I’ll be right back.”

“Mhmm,” Jack hummed. It took Jack a moment to notice Angel. He felt it before he saw that wide grin across her face. He frowned. “What?”

“Nothing.”

He rolled his eyes and stared at the tree. “I guess I should get the decorations out.”

He helped Rhys set the tree up and left him and Angel to decorate it. He made them lunch, smiling as he heard Angel telling Rhys where to put each ornament. This carried through the day when Rhys decorated the house. By the time dinner was made, they had finished. Rhys sat on the floor on the other side of the coffee table with Jack.

Jack appraised the house. “Alright, it doesn’t look bad.”

“Of course it doesn’t, Angel was the brains behind it. This is delicious!”

“Thanks.”

He helped Jack clean up, his voice quiet when they were away from Angel. “I had an idea while I was decorating.”

“That’s dangerous.”

He laughed when Rhys hit him. “I was thinking you could dress up for Santa and visit Angel.”

Jack leaned against the counter. “And what are you going to be?”

Rhys frowned. “I didn’t think I’d be anything?”

“Nu uh, sugar, if I have to look stupid, so do you.”

Rhys scoffed. “It’s not stupid.”

-----

It was a week before Jack would dress up as Santa and Rhys found himself missing the two. He hadn’t realized how much they had brought him so much warmth this year that his home felt completely empty. He sighed and turned on a Christmas movie.

When the day came, he dressed in his elf costume and met Jack at the back door of his house. He opened it wearing the full Santa garb.

“This is-” he lowered his voice. “This is fucking stupid, Rhys.”

Rhys smiled, taking in the stuffed belly and the fake beard. He hummed. “I dunno, I’m kinda diggin’ it.”

Jack frowned, but his beard moved as he smiled. “You would think Santa’s hot.” He opened the door for Rhys to go in. “Here we go.” He led the way, his voice loud and jolly. “HO HO HO! I HEAR THERE’S A GIRL WHO’S BEEN VERY GOOD THIS YEAR!”

Angel gasped and covered her mouth as she giggled. “Santa!” She smiled when she saw Rhys. “Rhys!”

“I’m working for Santa right now, Angel,” Rhys winked.

“Yeah, and Santa wants to know what you want for Christmas.” Jack knelt down next to where Angel had sat up, her wings more than halfway grown now. “Tell, me, Angel, what’s in your heart of hearts? What would you like for Christmas?”

She smiled wide and leaned in. “What I really want for Christmas is for my dad to marry Rhys!”

There was silence in the room as Angel looked proud of herself.

Rhys covered his mouth to muffle his laughter. “Uh, s’cuse me!” He tried not to run, but the door slammed too hard for his liking. He slunk around the corner of Jack’s house, leaned against it and laughed. He rested his hands on his knees and tried to catch his breath.

The door opened and Jack stood next to him. His beard was pulled down. “I thought you’d gone home.”

Rhys shook his head. “Just- just-” he was laughing too hard. “I didn’t… Expect that!”

Jack smiled and his shoulders started to shake in laughter. “Neither did I!”

Their laughter grew infectious, each spinning the other into harder laughter. When, after several minutes, they’d calmed down, Rhys wiped the tears from his eyes.

“We must be better together than I thought if Angel wants us to be a couple. I know I prefer it to fighting.”

Jack smirked. “I gotta admit I do too. You’re really good with her, I haven’t seen her smile like that since this all started.”

“Well, I adore her,” Rhys said easily.

Jack was silent for a moment. “Could you adore me too?”

Rhys’ heart pattered wildly in his chest as his brows widened in shock. “You wanna get married?”

He could definitely see the pink get darker on Jack’s face. “I wasn’t exactly thinking married, but…”

Not even if he tried could he hide the smile on his face. “I adore both of you. And honestly, it’s gotten lonely without you guys.”

Jack’s eyes twinkled and he stepped into Rhys’ space. “You’re lonely without me, sugar?”

Shrugging, Rhys tugged on the beard. “What about you?”

“I loved holding you. And I want to kiss you.”

“Well, no kisses until there’s a proposal, Mister.”

“Watch Angel, I’ll be back.”

Rhys blinked as Jack went into the house and then left in his vehicle. He had been joking. He hoped Jack hadn’t left for the reason he was thinking he had. He went into the house, his mind racing.

“I’m sorry!” Angel said. “I- Dad asked me and-”

Rhys put his hand up to stop her. “No, sweetie, don’t even worry about it. You did no harm, I promise. Let’s watch a movie.” He sat down on the couch with her, snuggling in when she lay against him.

“How are your wings today?”

“Sore. I’m tired of them being so sore.”

“Have you stretched them today?”

“Not yet…”

Rhys sat up. “Okay, we’ll stretch them while we watch the movie.” He gently took a wing and slowly extended it. She winced, but didn’t try to stop him. When he had it extended all the way, he looked at her. “How does that feel?”

“Better, they still hurt, but it’s better.”

“Good.” He moved it around as best he could without causing her too much discomfort. He switched to the next one and repeated the process. When he was done he had her move them around herself. “You need to do this everyday. Trust me, it makes all the difference in the world.”

“Okay… Could you help me with that?”

“Of course.”

Jack showed up an hour later with lunch and cupcakes. He paused the movie.

“Awe! It was almost done!” Angel huffed.

Jack set the box on the table in front of Rhys. “Open it.”

Rhys met his eyes. He was still dressed as an elf and Jack was still dressed as Santa, stuffed tummy and everything. His hands started to shake as he opened it. 

The cupcakes were all Christmas themed, snowmen, Santas, Christmas trees and presents. The center had a present decorated in fondant. Placed on it was a gorgeous, if not slightly gaudy ring.

Angel gasped. “What!?”

Rhys stared at it. Jack was serious. He was really proposing to Rhys. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with Rhys. He looked at Jack. “Well?” His lips twitched upward as he waited.

Jack grinned. He picked the ring up and knelt in front of Rhys. “Will you marry me, cupcake?”

“You guys aren’t doing this just cause I asked, right!? This isn’t just pretend?”

“No, Angel, I’m very serious,” Jack said.

“I am too,” Rhys said. “Yeah, yeah I’ll marry you, Jack.” He smiled wide as Angel screamed with joy. Jack slid the ring on and tugged him off the couch and into a kiss.

[purplerose244]

Peacefully

Here for this year’s Ninjago Secret Santa! Man I love this event, thank you a lot @coco-jaguar for organizing it once again! ❤ Hi @davisisacommonname, I’m your secret santa! Here’s you gift, I hope you like it! 😊😊

Merry Christmas and happy festivitites!! 💕💕

Summary: It’s a day like others, just without the usual mayhem shaking the entire city. A time to think of less stressful possibilities.

“So, what did we learn today?”

“That dares are stupid?” As they got back inside the monastery, finally escaping the chilling winter air, Nya raised a gigantic eyebrow at the green ninja. At which the mighty leader seemed to shrink the littlest bit. “… that dares involving the master of lighting putting lights on the tree using spinjitzu, resorting in him entangling himself into the wires and making every single bulb explode by electrification, are stupid?”

“There you go.” The master of water sighed loudly. “I don’t even know why I’m surprised it happened.” Despite the nonchalance of this blondie, the brand-new lights that they had been forced to buy and how she was probably the only one irritated about it – especially since Kai had been laughing hysterically for ten minutes straight afterwards –, she smiled.

Lloyd mimicked her, probably sensing he was not in mortal danger anymore, taking off scarf and hat. His golden locks puffed up as soon as the headpiece was off.

“Does the fact that I lost against Cole count as enough punishment?”

“Mhm?”

“I bet with him it was going to be Kai the first to cause an incident, he was supposed to be the one to take the bet. Now I’m in debt of one week of chores.” Another eyebrow was raised, less furious, more judging. “What? I’m trying to catch up, apparently the guys used to bet on everything when they first formed the team, from who was going to be the green ninja, to who was going to be the first to find out the identity of Samurai X! Like, I’m that prophesied green savior, and I knew about your little escapades.” Nya couldn’t help the little smirk. Ironically, the green ninja did turn out to be the first to discover the truth. “I could’ve won two times already, I wanna keep up now.”

They stepped into the kitchen, hearing faraway sounds. The others were most likely elsewhere putting up less expendable decorations. Nya was already looking towards the stove, thinking of nothing other than hot chocolate. Knowing Lloyd, they were on the same page.

“Okay, that’s uselessly prideful and kind of adorable, but this better not turn into a gambling addiction little one.”

“Nya, my father was the king of the Underworld. Is there really a worse evil than that?”

She couldn’t argue back.

Lost in thoughts about something warm to melt her frozen bones, she almost jumped when the sudden scribble came to her ears, and one extremely peaceful whistling that they were all too accustomed to at this point. In the living room right next, sitting on the sofa with the television uncharacteristically switched off, was Cole. Eyes on a random notebook he had on his knees, a pencil in the air, wearing that ridiculous sweater Jay found at the mall with muscled arms drawn over the sleeves – such a miracle of an ugly sweater.

He looked extremely taken by his activity, munching the end of the pencil every once in a while. Seeing their official lifter so calm and captured by whatever mindless activity had forced him to sit down was curious. It did happen before, but lately it got rarer. It was always a nice view.

Nya looked at the green ninja, who pointed at the kitchen with his thumb, right where the mugs where. She nodded, and went to take place next to the master of earth.

Who jumped right away, giving her a look.

“What the…? You’re back already? I didn’t hear you get in.”

“Wow, you don’t say!” From the kitchen the blonde’s voice erupted. “It’s almost like we’re ninja or something, unbelievable!” It followed accurate noises made by mouth, and if they knew him – and after years they absolutely did – then the little brat was probably mimicking an explosion coming out of his head – he was hanging around Jay a little too much.

Nya giggled, while the master of earth rolled his eyes with a little grin.

“Nice to hear you’re all in a good mood after our little blackout. You got the lights?”

“All done. Sorry about the scare, but it looked like you were in your own world.” She tilted her head, looking around. The living room was getting more festive, but it missed at least half the holly. “Didn’t you guys finish while we were gone?”

“We were going to, then something came up and we can’t really continue until Zane comes back to the shop… Kai accidentally set the tree on fire while you two were gone.” Her loud facepalm spoke louder than any of them. “I think Wu is still giving him an earful as he did with Jay as we speak … and before you ask Lloyd, Jay made a mess before Kai. So I still won the bet.”

“Aww, for once that I actually need Hot Shot to cause a mess!” The green ninja came out of the kitchen, the kettle starting to heat up into the kitchen, pout clearly in sight. For being their brave leader and the strongest ninja of all, he was still kind of a kid – although in all honesty, weren’t they all? “Anyway, what got you so into it that you forgot how to hear?” He walked until he was behind the couch, leaning over the master of earth’s shoulder and smiling. “Hey, that’s pretty cool! I didn’t know you could draw!” His surprised tone came out sincerely, especially since it felt like forever since they had found each other in this weird family. Finding new details was always a shock.

Nya scooted closer as well, smiling at the familiar shading of the chicken drawn onto the paper, with the real one sleeping over a pillow in front of the tv.

“You still have a nice touch. I haven’t seen you do it ever since it was just the four of you in action, and this little evil brat was in some random snake prison.” Lloyd mouthed an ‘oohhh’ of understand as why he didn’t remember. “To be more specific, I’m pretty sure it was back when instead of listening to my research about the Serpentine, you guys have tried to poison me with perfume.” Good thing no villain knew about her little Achilles hill.

Cole snorted, pressing his eraser on the corner of the paper.

“You were telling complicated stuff to that airhead that is your brother, to the guy that was lookin at your in awe while trying his hardest to ask you out, and to a nindroid. A robot. You can’t really blame us.”

“What’s your excuse then?” The master of earth raised his piece.

“I’m pretty freaking good at this.” Nya snorted. Again, no arguments here. “You know… I’ve been thinking about those times. And it’s not like it was easier, but I guess we didn’t really know how much things could become complicated and return back then.” Cole looked over the drawing, shrugging. “But I’m in vein of taking something back from there, exactly because we don’t know when we could get called into action again. It’s little, but it’s still mine… I felt silly like that this morning.” He grinned of that introverted nature that, despite years, was still a part of him.

And it was okay. It was great even. Nya gave him a shoulder.

“Hey, it’s not silly, it’s good.”

“Yeah! All of us should do something other than fighting.” Lloyd chimed in, dropping next to Cole on the other side, smiling. “Like for example, even though it’s been a pretty shady part of my life, I kinda miss PE back at Darkley’s. Moving just for the sake of moving. We should play sometimes, not because of training, it could be fun… or Nya could annihilate us, whichever comes first.”

“I’m not that competit-” The master of water blinked twice, shaken by the quickest flashback of her life. “… no wait scratch that, I totally am.”

Cole snickered, tapping the notebook with his pencil.

“Besides having as a golden rule to never put the blacksmith brothers against each other-” It could be the time Ninjago actually managed to get completely destroyed for good. “I would be down for that, why not? No sparring or anything, just a friendly match of whatever. I didn’t even get to do that as a kid, dad would always say that I could risk putting muscles where a dancer didn’t need them…” He flexed one arm, the massive hill pulling up the drawing onto the sleeve. He grinned with satisfaction. “How about football? I’ve always wanted to try football!” Oh for whatever reason other than having the strength to tackle a mountain?

“Absolutely!” Lloyd nodded eagerly. “Let’s do it! Oh, and soccer too, Brad and I used to try that a lot when we were kids!” He seemed to absolutely glow and the perspective, and it was kinda sad that such a simple reality represented an actual opportunity for him.

Before Nya could get lost into more self-deprecating depressive thoughts, and the fact that not even one of them had a normal childhood except maybe for Jay – and considering the still not so clear Cliff Gordon erased reality affair that was still up to discussion –, there was a loud whistle coming from the kitchen. The green ninja immediately sprouted into action, sprinting towards the sound. As soon as Cole decided to put down his drawing, seeing as the chicken had woken up to go bother someone – bet on Kai –, the blondie came back with three steaming mugs, giving to them all.

The master of water held up hers – a blue one with a storm cloud on it saying ‘Too tide to talk’ –, smiling at the distinct bitter scent of black cocoa. They knew each other tastes way too well.

“Sounds good to me. I also fancy basketball, so I’m down for that.”

“Nice! Mm, but how about other hobbies? Nya?” Cole took his time to take a generous sip from his mug that was literally dripping because of the amount of marshmallow – covering slightly the orange surface with ‘I’m a grounded person, like my coffee’ written on it –, while the gray ninja frowned a little. “Anything you would like to regain? You never really stopped with engineering so I’m guessing that’s out of the way.”

“Yeah, but,” She hummed, tracing the warm cup with her fingers. “That wasn’t a hobby or something I liked to do, not at first at least. It was just like Samurai X, a way to show you guys I could do what you did, even better. It grew on me, but it’s kinda work too, I’m proud of it but nowhere near as passionate as Jay or Cyrus Borg could be.” It was all about her tendency of holding onto the things she excelled at after all, the one obstacle that had almost cost her the true potential of her element. Despite her steps forward, putting a difference between liking to be good at something and liking it was still a little complicated. Then again… “… maybe painting?”

Cole grinned in surprise, Lloyd raised his head from his cup showing an impressive chocolate mustache – along with that black mug saying ‘It’s morning so you green and bear it’… and yes those mugs were all Jay’s presents.

“Whoa, where did that come from?”

“Yeah no offence, but you never stroke me as the artistic type.”

“None taken, it’s not exactly something that I feel it belongs to me, but maybe that’s why I used to like it. Because it was so far I didn’t have to think too much about it.” Nya smiled, taking another sip. “Remember the second Steep of Wisdom Wu opened in the middle of Ninjago City? To attract more customers I decided to work on a mural, right on the side. I don’t even know why, I just bought paint, brushes and a suit and started.”

“Oohh, I remember the one!” Lloyd snapped his fingers, the marshmallow in his cocoa shaking in the movement. “It was the one with the big majestic Wu serving the customer, I thought he hired an artist for it! That was cool!”

“You’re not saying it just because you’re my little brother, right?”

“Oh no, if it was ugly I would make a manifest all about it exactly because I’m your little brother. Brotherly code, smack talk every time it’s possible.” And then he fist bumped with his earthly brother nearby, wearing that same stupid grin. “But seriously, you were good at it. We finally have some free time to our hands, maybe it could be a good time for a new work. We still need the mural of that Day of the Departed where Cole turned back human after all, since those monks decided they had ‘lost the harmony of the inspiration’.” No one had been happy with leaving that important adventure behind – too bad they were in a monastery, a place of peace.

Cole hummed mindlessly, munching a marshmallow.

“Tell you what, how about we buy drawing and painting materials together for Christmas shopping?” He chugged down his drink, releasing a very satisfied sigh before leaning his back softly over the couch. “It’s usually Zane or Pix, we could take over for once and no, don’t give me that look water lily, it’s not for buying an extra cake and yes, do give me that look greenie, if you come along we’re so escaping and get to the sweet shop.” And there it came, another fist bump.

She had signed up for this.

She had signed up for this the moment she had let herself being overtaken by a bunch of skeletons, a past hit on her pride that to this day made her want to take a bone and break it in halves every time she thought about it – sports were going to be massacres, she was kinda looking forwards to it.

“I’m bringing leashes for you two vampires with sweet teeth, but it’s not a bad idea. And I like the mall in this period, it could even bring some inspiration as to what to paint.”

“How did you decide the first time?”

“I just thought of a simple design to get more clients.” Nya finished her drink, giving her eyes to a very curious looking blonde, thinking that it had been so long. It had always been so long, every single time she reevoked a part of her life, even though she was still so young. It was that eventful. “I worked on that project all day… but after it melted under the sun, it got ruined because of the wind and a lightning decided to strike it right in the middle, I just splashed it with all the colors I had and spinjitzued the heck out of it.”

“… rage, the mark of an artist.” Lloyd snickered, then he froze, suddenly beaming at the two. “Hey, why don’t you two work on something together? Cole makes the drawing and you paint it, it could be like a Christmas gift or something!”

Nya popped her mouth opened. How did they never think of that? How did they never while they had been battling villain after villain after villain after- Oh, there was the answer.

She turned to the master of earth, who looked just as engaged with the idea, if not more.

“Heck yeah, let’s do it! I can sketch a few ideas!”

“I do have colors I never got to try last time…”

“And I know mom got a few old frames that didn’t get accepted by the museum, I’m sure we can find a good one for this.” Lloyd grinned, scratching his cheek. “It’s almost weird putting up a plan for something other than defeating evilness…”

“Maybe, doesn’t make it any less good.” Cole winked at the two of them, looking inspired. And it was so good to see her brothers so high-spirited, and being happy with them. “… aha, I got one!” The master of earth hurried to the notebook, scrabbling quickly while the green ninja leaned his chin over his shoulder to see better, and the master of water did the same with her elbow on the other side. There was no other noise besides the pencil moving, and the suddenly more vivid voice of the rest of their family not too far away.

Peace was an abstract concept, it was in her life at least. But at least this moment, this situation, this instant, for Nya this was hers. And she wanted to make the most of it.

“… is that Jay getting entangled into the Christmas lights while doing spinjitzu?”

“Yeah? Is that the ‘should I punch you now or later for stupidity’ frown?”

“Nah, it’s the ‘what shade of color better depict bad life decisions’ frown.”

[thecandywrites]

Jewel Of The North Part 4

Ok, so in writing this part, I imagined that while there is an art of reading actual tea leaves, I saw a picture of this plate on the left edge and thought ‘man wouldn’t reading tea leaves be easier if each squigly section was part of something? Like this section is the life section, this is the money section, this is the love life section, so on and so fourth’ you know, make it even more complicated than it probably is.Also I love and adore Indian jewelry, because that is a gold temple necklace. It’s just...gorgeous. And in my mind, a priestess of Aura (who I totally made up for this story) would be wearing a fabulous shawl, that heavy gold jewelry and a head band that would match and have something akin to an Asian tea ceremony and depending on which tea people chose- told the priestess about them, kind of like what your favorite color says about you. Also, LOOK AT THAT GOLD DRESS. Hot damn. Also as an LMT, Vahva Kun is NOT a thing. Again, something I made up. 

And of course a thousand THANK YOU’s to the fabulous and super fabulous and creative @monstersandmaw​ for sharing the concept of ice orcs with me. Me and my Alaskan born heart instantly fell in love with them. Enjoy!

Jewel of the North 

Part 4

In the morning, you pulled yourself from the bed and you felt like it was noon. Thank the gods for the time difference, because it was only 9 there. 

“Well good morning sleepy head, working miracles wear you out?” Taylor teased you as she handed you a cup of coffee. 

“Yeah,” you nodded as you took it and drank it gratefully. 

“So, what’s the plan?” Taylor asked. 

“Massages today, working with Noah tomorrow, after that…” You shrugged. 

“Happily ever after.” Taylor supplied. 

“Hush or you’ll jinx it.” You shushed her in a whisper but her scheming grin was infectious. 

It took all day but by 7pm, you had gotten everyone taken care of that you came to take care of and Taylor decided to get takeout for dinner and while at the takeout restaurant that was on the other side of town, the group of pilots came striding in. 

“That’s them. The other pilots.” Taylor breathed. 

“Who’s who?” You whispered back before she specified who was who before you had her shut up so you could overhear their conversation. They were going to get food here and then go for drinks at ‘the bar’ later. 

“What bar?” You whispered to Taylor. 

“Knowing them- it’s probably Goose’s, they have the cheapest booze around and it’s close to their apartment, like within walking distance.” Taylor answered.

“Goose’s is the seedy, underbelly place that I don’t want to go to the bathroom in? That has the awesome cheeseburgers?” You asked. 

“Yeah,” Taylor nodded as an idea bloomed in your head. 

“Are they attracted to women?” You nodded over to them. 

“Oh yeah,” Taylor confirmed before one of them wolf whistled to a group of women who came into the restaurant. Ah. Those kinds of guys. Almost too easy. 

“Could you take me there? I have an idea, it’s a dirty, underhanded idea though.” You whispered. 

“That means it’s a fantastic idea.” Taylor grinned. 

“What shoe size are you?” You asked. 

“9.” She answered. 

“Sweet, do you by any chance have any hooker heels?” You hinted. 

“Wait, wait, wait, you won’t have sex with Noah but you want to go to Goose’s in hooker heels? Every guy in that place is going to fighting for the chance to take you home if not fuck you senseless in the bar’s bathroom, if not the parking lot.” Taylor answered. 

“Oh trust me, the only one taking me home is you, I have a plan. How fast can you get dressed and dolled up?” You urged her. 

“Oh give me thirty minutes tops.” Taylor insisted. 

You got the food and barely ate two bites of it before you and Taylor quickly locked yourselves in her bathroom to get ready as you put on your most seductive makeup and a slimming undergarment under your sexiest dress that had the push up bra to end all push up bras as you brought and slipped into her hottest “hooker heels” while she wore the more sensible shoes you brought since you were the same shoe size as her. 

“How do I look? She-wolf enough?” You asked her. 

“Ah, I see, you’re going to eat them alive.” She realized. 

“Yup, my brother’s mother in law- Olga is a priestess for Aura and is Yamalian which is near Siberia and she nicknamed me Zahnochka Volchitsa which means ‘she wolf that rises again’ and just like Beyonce has Sasha Fierce, Zara Kingsley has Zahnochka Volchitsa, and Zahnochka is going to get them so wasted, they won’t be able to fly tomorrow which is good ol’ fashioned sabotage and when they can’t fly the loads, Noah will be there to pick them up and save the day.” You revealed. 

“Oooh, evil and diabolical but for the best cause ever- I love it.” Taylor nodded in approval. 

“Just don’t tell Noah, I don’t think he’d approve of my methods or like Zahnochka very much because I haven’t used “her” in a long time.” You urged her. 

“Lips are sealed.” She swore as she had you wear her fancy dress jacket to cover up so Greg wouldn’t see you or the kids. 

“Honey, Zara and I are going out for a drink, we’ll be back later.” Taylor told her husband as she quickly ushered the two of you out of the house and drove to Goose’s as you got in your wallet and slipped money into your cleavage on the way there so you wouldn’t really have to get your whole wallet out and chance any of them seeing your business card or your real... anything. Then you prayed to the gods for courage and hoped this gamble would be worth the risk to yourself and hoped this wouldn’t backfire and blow up in your face or bite you in the ass. 

Once in the bar you zeroed in the group of pilots sitting together at a table towards a wall, which was perfect and out of the way, just the way you liked it as a mischievous smirk danced on your lips.

 And then you locked your smoldering and seductive gaze with one of them who froze and stared back in awe like a deer caught in headlights as he watched as you strutted and sauntered into the place, your heels clicking on the tile and slowly slipped out of your light jacket to reveal your gold silk dress and made sure that every guy in the place with a pulse knew you were officially on the radar. You had an ability which you had perfected over your life, you called it the ‘Marylin Monroe effect’ because she had this gift that she could ‘turn on’ and she could transform from normal house wife to blonde bombshell right before anyone’s eyes and you had a similar gift and you were about to use it again. 

“What can I get you to drink Gorgeous?” The bartender John asked as he was grateful he was working tonight, and here he thought it was just going to be a normal week night with the same old regulars but low and behold, a brand new gem came walking in, you must have just come into town because you were a brand new face. Plus, you were clearly the hottest woman in the place, hell in the whole damn town and you were dressed to kill and obviously on the prowl and he was ready offer himself as your prey for the night. 

“What kind of whiskey do you have?” You asked as John began going through what he had, feeling a little embarrassed that they didn’t have a ton to choose from and what they did have, didn’t seem good enough for the goddess you were. 

“Give me some Jamie, that’s plenty good enough for me, on the rocks please.” You ordered.

“And you Sugar?” John asked Taylor. 

“Same.” Taylor agreed before John poured two very generous portions into glasses over ice and served them to you. 

“Thank you.” You thanked him.

“So I take it you’re a friend from out of town.” John hinted as he looked from Taylor to you. 

“That’s correct, I’m Zara Zahnochka Volchitsa Kingsley.” You introduced yourself, rolling your r’s and taking on a slightly Siberian accent with the roll of your own name off your tongue as you shook his hand. 

“John Wilks. Pleasure to meet you.” He shook it before it he took your hand and kissed it which got you to giggle bashfully before you pulled him towards you which caused him to lean as far over the bar as he could before you pulled a hundred dollar bill from your cleavage and slipped it into his hand. 

“Give me the lay of the land.” You purred as you twirled your finger subtly to gesture to the bar. 

“Uh, well, there’s…” He began as he listed off who was around the room, using the old ‘ 3 o’clock’ 6 o’clock’ method as you got the confirmation that all the guys at the table on the wall were the other pilots. 

“Could you do me a favor?” You requested. 

“Anything.” John offered.  

“Get me the darkest beer glass you have. Empty it so I can use it as a chaser cause I have a feeling every guy in this place is about to buy me a drink and I don’t want to get too drunk and when it gets full, get me a new one.” You proposed, your voice dropping to a low murmur so that only John and Taylor could hear you. 

“You got it.” John nodded in understanding as he got you the Milk of Dragon. Usually the beer is so dark and heavy it was black on it’s own but the glass was pitch black and you couldn’t tell except from picking it up if it had beer in it or not. 

“Are you ready to see a show?” You breathed to Taylor who nodded before you got the glass and pretended to take a long pull from it before you turned in your chair and Taylor watched as you seemed to turn something on inside you- up full blast like seeing a Hollywood star light up on the red carpet, it was like you were a beacon of light, but you were all fire and flames, burning so hot you could set the stool you sat on- on fire and every man in the place just became a moth and every man couldn’t help but be drawn to you and you were practically swarmed. 

"So what's your name Beautiful?" One guy asked. 

"Zara- Zahnochka Volchetsia- Kingsley." You introduced yourself, giving the same flourish to the name and putting extra emphasis on the middle portion of your “name” while quickly rolling through the real parts of it which they all ate up like candy. 

And instead of getting overwhelmed, you seemed pleased and basked in all the attention as you tried to give each guy in there just a few minutes of attention, remaining friendly and giving a little bit of your time to everyone so that no fights broke out for your attention, letting them spit game, each line greater than the last as your amused giggle filled the air and your smile lit up the dimly lit bar before the group of pilots came over and tried their luck and while their lines weren’t as clever as the others, you pretended to be the most affected before you offered your hand for them to lead you back to their table as you were sat down as the others grumped but watched on enviously as the group of pilots who weren’t all that handsome or all that impressive seemed to win your favor which didn’t make any sense to the rest of them maybe you just had a thing for younger guys. But you made your choice and they would respect it as Taylor sat next to you and just watched as the Zara she thought she knew was replaced by a full blown she-wolf. She didn’t know you had it in you but she knew why you were doing it and she had to respect the masterful way you were choosing to deal with the problem because no one else had the guts to do it this way. But it was genius.  

“So are all of you pilots?” You asked eagerly as you sat at the table, putting on your best doe eyes and making sure you sat in such a way that your cleavage was heaving with every breath as they all undressed you with their eyes. 

“Oh yeah, he flies…” Derek began to list off the different planes and you pretended to be impressed by it all as they ordered you drink after drink which was part of your plan, “chasing” it with your “beer” as you pretended to get tipsy, laughing at everything they said that was even slightly funny. 

“So what do you do? Other than look sexy as hell?” Evan asked. 

“Oh nothing much, just taking care of the estates and trust funds I’ve inherited when my grandparents died when I was younger, " You waived off and grinned when all their eyes practically got dollar signs in them and they were staring at you the way a hungry dog would look at a steak. Oh they would devour you the moment you let them. 

Perfect. 

“And I’m an LMT which stands for liscenced massage therapist, would you like a demonstration?” You purred. 

“Hell yeah, my body is yours to do as you wish.” Evan offered before you took his arm and started massaging it and giggled when he groaned and moaned in pleasure before you got a brilliant idea. 

“Well, as an LMT, I’m certified in using Vahva Kun, which all my body builder clients swear by and by using it, they build the biggest, most impressive muscles possible and it feels better than sex with the gods, would you like to try it?” You offered.

“Hell yeah,” they readily agreed as you went about using it on them as their moans and groans filled the small bar as you straddled their labs to get as close as possible to hit all these points in their bodies, leaving each of them feeling like a god themselves and the buzz they had already been feeling from the booze was amplified and they were feeling the most intense afterglow that did indeed surpass the afterglow after an orgasm as Taylor watched on curiously and only when you ordered another round of shots for the guys, this time of the 153, the strongest alcohol in the place, since you had massaged their necks and made sure to access their ‘sleeper mode’ muscles, then they took that last shot and promptly passed out and you used that to use their fingers tips to get into their phones and deleted the pictures they had taken of you in the compromising positions of their laps before you stood up and strode over to the bartender and slipped him another hundred dollar bill since by the time you were done, most of the other patrons had gone home for the night since it was past midnight and almost last call. 

“Thanks for looking out for me tonight, you may need to call a taxi or an uber for them. They obviously won’t be able to drive home.” You nodded over to the table before you strutted out of there with Taylor and while you weren’t drunk on alcohol, you were definitely drunk on power and the thrill of what you just did because letting your inner she wolf out to breathe and feed for the first time in forever and it felt amazing. 

“So what’s Vahva Kun?” Taylor asked as she drove you to her house. 

“Vahva Kun is short for Vahva Kun Olen Hiekko. It means ‘strong when I’m weak’. Body builders pay me a grand each to do that to them a week and a half before competitions to make every muscle in their bodies’ bulge. In massage there’s only a few ways of doing things, and that is- pain now- pleasure later or pleasure now- pain later and Vahva Kun is as intense as pleasure now pain later gets. The reason it’s so pleasurable now is I use the body’s tendon organs to “turn off” muscles from the nervous system, this gives the effect to the brain that the muscle has become completely relaxed which feels amazing in the moment. But when you turn a muscle off, especially prime movers or major primes, the muscles that are responsible for your major movements, that means they can’t work anymore because you just told them, via their tendon organs to go the fuck to sleep and go on a little vacation and they become completely unresponsive and they feel lighter than air at first. So while they’re out in la la land, and can’t hear a thing from your nervous system who’s screaming at them to move. So that leaves only the synergists and the little assistant muscles to try to do the job of the major primes which they are ill equipped and too weak to do but they try their best. So they end up bulging by the end of it because they have no other choice because your body needs to move. However another thing happens when you do Vahva Kun, the nervous system freaks out. Now we all know how ecstasy works, it floods your brain with endorphins and other feel good chemicals to the point of overwhelming it right? Well Vahva Kun does the same thing initially. So what you’re left with is a brain who can’t feel most of the muscles in their body and is overwhelmed with pleasure and it freaks out and how it does that is it suddenly feels that the pleasure is actually pain and that you’re being attacked but it only does the switch once you succumb to the pleasure and pass out and the switch happens during your first sleep cycle.” 

“So when they wake up tomorrow, they’re going to feel like they got hit by a mac truck and moving will be agony.” Taylor realised. 

“Oh yeah, and when you do Vahva Kun you’re supposed to drink at least two liters of water or preferably an electrolyte drink before you take your initial sleep because in turning off the major primes, they release all their tension and everything that was trapped by that tension in particular all the “toxins” and acids and things stored in the muscles and when you drink a diuretic, like coffee or even worse- alcohol, the toxins can be released from one spot of the muscle but simply move and spread within the muscle belly instead of getting flushed out into your lymph system which then delivers it to your liver and kidneys to be removed from your body. And once the switch happens, the brain then sends fibroblasts into all the major primes which is a heavy duty messenger to make sure it’s still there period and the fibroblasts are like little explosions of protein and collagen and other substances into the major primes. Well imagine what an explosion looks like now imagine that inside a striated muscles, the fibroblasts usually go any manner of either outright perpendicular or just plain not in the directions of the striations in the muscles. Which again, make the muscles bulge. It looks awesome when you’re done, but it feels like you were in the worst bar fight ever. And for first time receivers of Vahva Kun it can take up to a month for your body to fully recover and your body aches the whole time and it can take several hours after just to get all the new knots out of the muscles and usually body builders, the first few to several days after- they can’t hardly move, they have all these huge bulging muscles that look incredibly strong but are jack shit for strength and that’s why it’s called Vahva Kun- strong when I’m weak. It means they look strong but they are in reality, very weak.” You explained. 

“Vahva Kun was discovered by a prostitute, Jasmine Vahva, who was tired of being beat up by her clients and she found she could make a killing if she “massaged” them first using this technique, get them to pass out and steal them blind but then be gone before they could wake up and confront her. And she taught other sex workers this technique. But they only could ever do it to a client once and quickly word spread about the real “effects” of the massage and once the clients got wise to it it lost it’s “appeal.”, then the clients noticed that once they recovered, they physically looked amazing and so a few of them got into body building and then word spread and so you had the legitameate professionals going to Jasmine to learn this technique so that they could practice it on body builders which is a very lucrative discipline and her original friends who had been sex workers then got into the legitamate side of massage teaching Vahva Kun.” You revealed. 

“So you fucked them over without dropping your panties an inch.” Taylor laughed. 

“Yup, because those fuckers had the audacity to undercut Noah and put Noah and Sakura’s livelihood into jeopardy. A she wolf takes no prisoners when her den and pups are in danger. Even if she has to infiltrate another pack to do it.” You mused. 

“Hot damn girl.” Taylor praised as she high fived you.

The next morning Noah came down the stairs to find his mother already there making breakfast. 

“Good morning Mom.” Noah greeted sleepily as he shuffled over to the coffee pot before there was a knock and suddenly he was a million times more alert as he happily forgot all about the coffee to rush over to the door to open it. 

“Good morning.” Noah greeted you happily. 

“Good morning.” You greeted happily, sure that your dark circles under your eyes would scare the shit out of him but he didn’t seem to notice as he ushered you inside. 

“Good morning Nana,” You greeted warmly. 

“Good morning Zara.” Nana returned just as warmly. 

“How do you like your eggs?” She asked. 

“Over easy please if there’s toast.” You answered gratefully. 

“Did Sakura take it easy on you guys yesterday?” You inquired hopefully. 

“Yes, she didn’t wake up till 10, it was wonderful and you did such a fantastic job on the house, it was a really wonderful blessing.” Nana praised.

“Thank you, I did my best.” You nodded as you ducked your head. Appreciating the recognition. 

“I know you did, and it’s really appreciated, you have no idea.” Noah added with a proud smile that was making wish you could ask him to try to show it but with his mother there, that wouldn’t have been appropriate. 

“Go get ready Dear while I get breakfast finished.” Summer urged him and you saw the reluctant disappointment in his demeanor like a child who is told to go to bed when there was still company at the house and you could see he was about to argue but one look from her had his argument dying on his tongue before he begrudgingly pulled away and went back upstairs to hurry up and get ready as you got yourself a cup of coffee. 

“So, I thought for sure that you would have slept in this morning from eating five men alive last night.” Nana noted once she heard the bathroom door shut upstairs and the shower turn on which made you choke on your coffee. 

“Uh, how…?” You nervously asked as you tried to clean yourself up. 

“The gods see all and only they could have revealed that to me. It takes a she-wolf with nerves of steel to do what you did, and to walk away without a scratch is a feat in itself. Don’t feel guilty about it, you ensured not just Noah and Sakura’s survival but the best chance for all of us to thrive too. But I need to tell you that you need to keep the she-wolf out today, embrace your Aura heritage, it won’t scare off Noah, it’ll surprise him but it won’t throw him off or intimidate him. Don’t lose your nerve or your courage. You’ll need it to make your mission complete. Use your bag and your magnificent mind and I’ll help you with your hair.” She advised you as she held your face in her aged but warm hands. 

“Ok,” you agreed, feeling relieved yet validated and empowered before she kissed your forehead before you left just as Noah got out of the bathroom as you raced upstairs since you would need the bathroom’s larger bathroom counter to get ready and Noah looking like a god with just a towel around his waist was a delight. 

“Everything ok?” Noah asked. 

“Yeah, just had a really good talk with your mom, I need to finish getting ready though. Do you mind?” You asked as you gestured to the bathroom. 

“Not at all, but we gotta get going in like an hour or so.” Noah answered, disappointed because here he thought he would have an hour or so with just staring at your beautiful face. Even without makeup you were gorgeous. You didn’t need makeup. 

“Plenty of time.” You reassured him before Sakura woke up to the sound of your voice. 

“Paradise?” She asked sleepily as she opened her door before she saw you and immediately went to you and hugged you tightly. 

“Good morning Sweetheart, did you sleep good?” You asked her. 

“The best, I had the coolest dreams!” She eagerly told you. 

“Well I have to get ready for the day, but I need your bathroom up here to do it, you want to tell me all about them while I get ready?” You proposed. 

“Yeah!” She agreed as she took your hand and led you into the bathroom before she shut the door, leaving Noah feeling a little jealous he couldn’t be in there too but he got dressed and let you have your time with Sakura as he went back downstairs. 

“What did you talk to Para-I mean, Zara about?” Noah asked his mom curiously. 

“I encouraged her to embrace all of herself with you, and not to be scared of showing you all of herself or fear it will intimidate you or put you off. Everyone always tries to put for their best faces and the best versions of themselves to people they like and are trying to impress.” Summer hinted with a scheming grin. 

“And for that she had to put on makeup?” Noah questioned as he cast a look in the direction of the bathroom when he heard Sakura and you laughing. 

“She’ll explain it to you better once she comes down. She has to show Sakura first and Sakura’s approval will give her heart and courage to show you and some reassurance that she has nothing to worry about will be all you need to give.” She insisted. 

“But for now, eat, be patient.” She urged him as she handed him a plate of food before she continued to cook breakfast as Noah begrudgingly ate and drank his coffee as his knee bounced impatiently as his mother joined him at the table as Noah racked his brain trying to think of what it could possibly be. 

“Stop, you’ll imagine it way worse than it is.” Nana lightly smacked his arm. 

“Look, the only thing I can think of is she’s used to be a stripper or something like that.” Noah blurted before he got another smack, this one much harder than the first.  

“I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, at this point it’s a bonus.” Noah conceded before he recoiled from the third smack, this one even harder than the last as he rubbed his arm. 

“You’re going to feel like an ass once she comes down the stairs.” Summer chastised before right on cue you came down the stairs looking like a proper goddess. A heavy shall was wrapped around your shoulders and you were wearing gold and purple highlighter on your cheeks as your complexion was made to look much more amethyst purple instead of peacock teal it usually looked and your eyeshadow was a brilliant gold and purple and your jewelry was authentic priestess of Aura jewelry. He was dumbstruck by how magnificent you looked. 

“May I introduce Zahnochka Volchitsa! A minor priestess of Aura!” Sakura proudly introduced you, her freshly brushed teeth gleaming as her fresh braids that you had put into her hair showed off her silken tresses. 

“And what a stunning one at that.” Summer praised as she had you sit down to breakfast next to Noah as she got up and took your hairbrush from your hand and your special headband and beads from your hands. 

“Wow,” Noah breathed. “So, what’s the special occasion?” Noah asked. 

“Well, your mother wisely advised me to embrace my “she-wolf” and “Aura heritage” today. When I was 15, my older brother Gavin started courting his wife Natasha who we call Tasha, she’s Siberian and her mother Olga, is a high priestess to Aura and serves at the Sinai Temple in the Great Lakes, and the moment she met me, she adopted me and gave me a new name. The name she gave me was ‘Zahnochka Volchitsa’ Volchitsa is Siberian for ‘she wolf’ and Zahnochka means ‘she will rise again’. And she has insisted I was her new daughter and forbade her own sons from dating me because that would be ‘incest’ even though at the time her 13 year old son Nicoli aka- Nikki- had the biggest crush on me, but he’s married with kids and we’re friends so now so it worked out. But anyway, she taught me how to have teeth and claws and how to take no bull-er-crap from anyone and how to be a strong independent woman with all the spice and sass of a viper and if any man dared cross me or even take advantage of me in any way- how to eat him alive like a proper shewolf, how protect ‘my den and pups’ and how to turn other people’s stupidity into my own benefit and she taught me how to give blessings, read palms and tea leaves and all that. But it’s an alter ego for me, like how Beyonce has Sasha Fierce, I have Zahnochka Volchitsa. I thought if your clients saw how you were flying around a minor priestess of Aura, the goddess of gold, luck and riches, they’d be willing to do just about anything, including renewing contracts with a pilot they tried to undercut for the chance to get a blessing.” You hinted with nervous grin.  

“You don’t have to…” Noah tried to argue even though he was incredibly touched and so impressed by it. This was ingenious. Although as much as he wanted a blessing, he also knew that priestesses could not bless family. And since he desperately wanted to be your family, he would be satisfied with your presence to be blessing enough. 

“Yes she does,” Summer immediately countered. “And we deeply appreciate it and Sakura and I will pray for your success.” She insisted as she continued to fix your hair appropriately, braiding the headband into your hair and securing it so that you looked like a proper priestess with the traditional hair arrangement and no sooner had you ate than Noah got the first call from a client as you got ready by putting the shawl on to complete the look.

“Be good for Nana ok?” You urged Sakura before you left, giving her a big hug.

“Will do.” Sakura reassured you before you kissed her all over her face which made her giggle with glee before she did the same to you before you let go and hugged Nana goodbye, giving her a kiss on the cheek before you left. 

“My new Mama is amazing.” Sakura fawned as she watched the two of you go from the window and get in Noah’s truck as she grinned to see her dad open your door for you like a proper gentleman. 

“Yes she is. Now, come on, we got some prayers to give.” She urged her granddaughter. 

Once in the plane, you settled into the copilot seat with your backpack securely between your legs. 

“How much does all that weigh anyway?” Noah asked curiously as he eyed the gaudy gold jewelry as he got settled in himself. 

“About a thousand pounds.” You laughed. “It’s all real and solid so it’s quite heavy.” You revealed. 

“Could you do me a favor though?” You asked hopefully. 

“Anything.” Noah immediately agreed. 

“Could you wear this gold charm at least for today?” You proposed as you pulled the large gold charm on a masculine chain out of your velvet blessing bag that had previously held all the jewelry wrapped in the shawl and a tea set for a proper priestess tea ceremony.  

“As long as you won’t give me a formal blessing with it,” Noah specified. “I know priestesses can’t formally bless family members but your presence is blessing enough for me.” He noted which melted your heart and made you want to kiss him. You were ready to offer him a proper place in your family. But perhaps he was referring to the way you were with Sakura and meant that endearment fairly innocently. 

“That’s correct, but they can give gifts, if you wear this, your clients will assume I’ve already blessed you and will want a blessing of their own, a first link in the chain.” You proposed. 

“Ok,” Noah agreed before you turned in your seat and put it over his neck and being so close, you could smell the soap he used in his shower and his aftershave and just him in general and your brain got hazy with lust. But you feared it would be inappropriate and settled for simply kissing his forehead and offering him an adoring smile which he mirrored as he glanced from your eyes to your lips before a message came on his receiver which pulled his attention away. 

“Yeah,” Noah answered. 

“Hey could you swing by Corporal? I have a load for you this morning.” One of his clients radioed in. 

“Sure thing, see you soon.” Noah agreed before he hung up. 

“It’s working already,” Noah laughed. “That guy hasn’t had me fly a load for him all year, must be a big one.” Noah revealed. 

“Then let’s do his first.” You suggested. 

“Ok,” Noah nodded before he turned the plane on and began to taxi it out of the hanger and towards the runway before taking off and you bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from squealing. Flying was so fun!

Once up in the air you put on your blood red lipstick with gold glitter gloss over it as you had Noah tell you about this particular client. Cranky old man type.

Perfect. 

He landed the plane several long moments later and once taxied over to the loading area, you knew it was show time as you unbuckled your seatbelt and left the plane and grinned when an older gentleman practically came rushing up to you. 

“Noah! Why didn’t you tell me you were flying around a priestess of Aura today?” Mick chastised Noah. 

“Because most people are intimidated by priestesses. And since Noah has already lost so much already, I couldn’t chance him losing anymore, especially upon my account.” You easily answered for him. 

“Of course,” Mick ducked his head as his cheeks blushed. 

“This is Zara Zahnochka Volchitsa Kingsley. This is Mick Mullins.” Noah introduced. 

“Pleasure to meet you.” You extended your hand and smiled serenely when he kissed it and pressed his forehead to your knuckles as he bowed respectfully. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He greeted back. 

“Would you have time to take tea with me?” You asked Mick hopefully. 

“Of course, of course, right this way.” He ushered you to the control tower where there was a lounge with a coffee maker and an electric tea kettle which he quickly dumped bottled water into it to boil before he has you sit in his chair, in his office since it’s one of the most comfortable chairs in the place as you pull out your tea set and your trio of teas, each tin a work of art before you laid them out before him and ceremoniously took the top off of each one and sniffed each one before you offered for him to do the same before he sniffed each one. 

“Which one do you prefer?” You asked as he looked between them. 

“This one.” He specified as you nodded and smiled serenely at his choice before the kettle beeped and he immediately got up like a shot to retrieve it and brought it back just as you finished scooping the tea into the little teapot before he handed you the kettle before you poured in the right amount of water. 

“So, Mr. Mullins.” 

“Please call me Mick - Priestess.” He urged you.

“Thank you for having tea with me. And thank you many times over for doing business with Noah. That man has suffered so much loss recently. That loss has touched me very deeply. And to hear how his regular clients have taken their business elsewhere has disturbed me greatly and they will only reap disaster and misfortune for doing so, the gods told me through the leaves under no uncertain terms. Grabbing selfish hands today make it impossible to accept blessings, even if the gods are more than ready and willing to give an overabundance of them. Someone with closed fists cannot be handed anything. Even one closed fist can impede the other open one, since they cancel each other out. Even when what the gods will to give them is greater than what they already have in their hands. It doesn’t matter what their hands are physically if mentally, emotionally, figuratively and especially spiritually, since all of those are interwoven- if their figurative hands are closed, there is no blessing for them. Only a malediction. If that pattern persists, I feel I must intervene further, as I have contacts at the military bases and my more financially blessed clients may have a need for a private pilot for their jets and things and they will be more than happy to make sure Noah is paid handsomely, enough to make a move there worth his while many times over and they will be immeasurably blessed for doing so in Noah’s sake.” You proposed as you as you set up your tea ceremony as you glanced up at Mick who looked particularly embarrassed like you just pulled his pants down and exposed him. 

“But I don’t feel that will happen to you, because you are being generous and using the deserving and there is no one more deserving than Noah and you will be blessed for it. I can tell, it is written in the lines on your face and on the veins on the back of your hands.” You reassured him which had light returning to his eyes and a smile spread on his face before you poured the tea. 

“Well then let me reassure you that I would be more than happy to help Noah in any way I can.” Mick swore. 

“Please do not use pretty words in the face of a priestess just to gain momentary favor, do not say anything unless you mean the words with all truth and that you have cemented plans and will put those words into action.” You gently warned with a look of sorrow. 

“No I swear on my life and the lives of my family, what I say is in all truth and I will absolutely follow through, I will use no one but Noah for the rest of the season and for every season after this till the end of my days and I will pay him very well for it, so that he and his family may be kept in safety and security.” Mick swore solemnly. 

“Your words please me and the gods, may you feel peace and happiness and enjoy nothing but success with the fulfillment of this vow. May I give you a gift?” You proposed. 

“I will accept anything you wish to give me.” Mick answered earnestly. 

“I will read the tea leaves for you and wish to give you a charm.” You proposed. 

“I would be honored.” He agreed before you pulled out the reading plate and swished the remaining tea in the pot around before you poured the remains onto the center of the plate and watched as the tea leaves flowed out into the plate as the both of you watched to see where the tea leaves fell on the plate before you used your extensive training to read them to him. Usually people paid quite a bit of money to have this done by Olga and people used the information as if it was doctrinal truth, above questioning or reproach and Mick seemed perfectly pleased and excited about what the tea leaves told on the plate.  

No sooner had you finished before both of your phones chimed, messages that the plane was already filled with the shipment. 

You took a few moments to rinse your plate off in the sink after both Mick and yourself took a picture of it and as you rinsing it, Mick was making sure to cut Noah’s check. Mick usually paid half upon arrival and loading and then the other half upon successful delivery. This time Mick would be doubling both payments and made a note to always do this in the future as he fingered the gold charm you had given him that he immediately put onto a gold chain around his neck before his own phone went off, suddenly he was getting payments and offers from new vendors as he felt elated as he quickly prayed for forgiveness for slighting Noah in the past by undercutting him before he rejoined you as you finished packing up everything so he could walk you back and hand his payment to Noah. 

“Oh and Mick, I should warn you. If you ever break your vow, the charm will tarnish and you will lose what you gained and even would have gained will immediately go to your competition. And once it’s lost, it can not be regained.” You warmed him solemnly. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it Priestess.” Mick reassured you as he walked you back over to the plane. 

“May safety, security and blessings be with you Priestess,” Mick offered you graciously. 

“And with you.” You answered before you nodded and turned to get back on the plane, giving Noah a meaningful look with a pleased smile before Mick happily handed over the folded check to Noah and an apology for not using him sooner but quickly set up a deal to use him at least every week and a reassurance that if Noah ever needed anything at all, to let Mick know. 

“Of course, well, uh, I better get going, you have my number, just let me know what you need.” Noah returned before he got back into the plane and got ready to go before he peeked at the check before he put it into his payment bag. 

“Well that went well, I would say he’s your new model client.” You smiled proudly. 

“How?” Noah asked curiously. 

“Manta Olga charges anywhere from 3 to ten thousand dollars for the kind of tea ceremony I just had with him and to get a tea reading with her is booked up anywhere from three to 9 months in advance because she is the high priestess at her temple. Minor priestesses and newbies like me usually make a tiny fraction of that. And honestly if all I’m out is a few scoops of my favorite tea, it’s worth it to me- to help ensure that you and Sakura especially will be ok and taken care of, long after I leave and can’t ensure it with my own hands.” You confessed as you fiddled with the fringe of your shawl because you suddenly didn’t have the strength to look at him. 

Meanwhile the words were trying to eat their way out of Noah’s mouth to assure you and reassure you that you would be more than welcome to try. That he would follow you to the ends of the earth to give you as many chances as you wanted and needed to try. But then his radio went nuts trying to receive multiple messages all at once. All of these clients begging for his help to fly loads as you prepared yourself to repeat this process over and over and over today, as many times as it would take to make sure that Noah would be the most popular and sought after pilot the Frozen Tundra ever saw and prayed that your endeavors would bring Noah untold and unimaginable success.

Word spread quickly that a ‘priestess of Aura’ was with Noah and that she was giving free tea readings in exchange for business with Noah and Noah was getting money hand over fist as his payment envelope was close to bursting again, much like your bladder half the time because this tea, while beautiful and delicious, ran through you but you were getting better with every reading, like riding a bike and it was all coming back to you with ease. Like this is what you did all day every day and you had a lot of fun too and Noah made three loops around the state and flew from the morning till well into the night and every time you took tea with all these clients, they were more than happy to feed you a snack too. Mostly prepared by their wives to feed you and Noah and Noah counted himself lucky enough to sit in on a few of them while he ate lunch and dinner and gratefully drank some tea with you, enjoying the tea quite a bit. 

On the final flight home, you finally got to take off the jewelry, your ears practically tears of joy that they weren’t weighed down anymore as your chest was much lighter without the necklace on it as you gradually took the beads and headbands out of your hair before you stretched your neck before you put it all away back into the blessing bag. 

“There you are.” Noah murmured appreciatively, happy to see Zahnochka receed and his Zara come back to the forefront which made you giggle. 

“Yup, here I am.” You answered before you got a makeup cloth out of your backpack and wiped off all the makeup and false lashes which were itching your eyelids. 

“Did you really have to put all that makeup on?” Noah asked as he saw a ton of purple come off. 

“Most priestesses of Aura are of Siberian and Eastern Europa descent where the indigo violet orcs and dark elves which are just about the same color-originated from. The closer I look physically to them, the more people believe my authenticity as one. My first tea reading didn’t go well because I didn’t look purple enough and the client thought they weren’t getting an authentic reading. Thanks to the wonders of makeup, once I was able to get my complexion purple enough, people stopped questioning my authenticity despite Olga vouching for me. Even now I’m listed under the priestesses of Aura website as a chastnyy, or private priestess. Which means I don’t “officially” serve at any one temple even though I am in the same order that Olga is in. It just makes it eaiser for me. Same thing with the accent, it just helps me play the part. It doesn’t make it any less real but there are theatrics that come with it.” You explained. 

“Well maybe I’m weird but I’d rather have Zara with me in this cockpit than Zahnochka any day. She’s cool and all but I just like you better.” Noah confessed. 

“Awww, thank you. Zahnochka is...I’ll be honest, she’s exhausting. She’s fun but tiresome after a while. But thank you for not getting annoyed or intimaded by her.” You confessed. 

“Nope, not at all. So what are you doing tomorrow?” Noah asked. 

“I don’t have any plans.” You answered. 

“Well I actually ran all the loads today that I was supposed to run tomorrow. So technically I have tomorrow off and I would really like to take you fishing if you’d be up for it.” Noah offered, remembering his mother’s advice. 

“YES!” You immediately agreed with a bright, nearly blinding smile. “I would love to.” You answered. 

“We could even take Sakura too, I think with your encouragement, she might get over her squamishness with worms.” He added and grinned when your whole being practically lit up at the very idea.  

“Perfect.” You beamed, feeling super excited for tomorrow. 

[myhockeyworld87]

Love Me Anyway - Tyler Seguin - Part 1

Word Count: 1694

POV: Reader and Tyler (it switches)

Warnings: Language (apparently that’s just the way I write)

Notes: Ok so here it is, literally the first thing I ever wrote for someone else to read. This is where it all started. I never finished the series but I think there are about 7 or 8 parts of that are done. I’ll publish some of it, and you guys can let me know if you want more of it. Peace, Love and Hugs all!

READER POV

Work had been a hell of a week. So when your friends suggested going out and letting off some steam Friday night you were all in. You got home from work and debated on what to wear. You were in the mood for cute and sexy. It’d been 6 months since you and Kyle; otherwise known as he who shall remain nameless, broke up. You’d gone out on a couple of dates but nothing came of it. Browsing through your closet looking for something that said I’m available; you settled on a pair of cute dressy black shorts with an off the shoulder lacy black top. Nothing that said slut, but the outfit did say you were looking. Hearing your phone ding, immediately knowing your friends were here to pick you up. You finished putting on your sandals, grabbed your bag and headed out the door.

 The four of you headed to a little restaurant for dinner and some pre-party drinks. As always, being with your girls just made you feel so much better. After dinner you decided to hit the club. You and your friend Jenna had a few too many pineapple martinis at the restaurant, so that first drink at the club you really felt. You knew you needed to slow down. So you went to the bar to grab a water. The bartender was cute, and here you were asking for water...ugh. So you quickly changed your train of thought and ordered a tequila sunrise to go with that water. Mr. Hot Bartender grabbed the water fairly quick; so you took a few quick sips as he went mix your other drink. Solely focusing on Mr. Hottender; as you were now calling him; you weren’t ready when some bumped into you spilling your water on you and the bar. 

 “Damn It” you whisper yelled as Mr. ‘I’ve drank too much and am stumbling into people’ looks over at you. “I’m so sorry” he said. “Let me buy you a new drink?” You turned to tell him that it wasn’t necessary, when you realize...it's Tyler freakin Seguin. What are the chances? Ok so yes you’re a hockey fan that’s number one. Two you can appreciate that Tyler is hot in every way; and three he’s also the equivalent of a male whore. And lord knows you don’t want to be another notch on his bedpost. He probably has so many notches he’s had to get a new bedposts, twice. You look at him finally saying “It’s not necessary”; turning your head dabbing the water off of you and the bar. 

 “No really, I’m super sorry, let me make it up to” Tyler implored. 

 “Look its only water, so no harm done” you casually replied. 

 Just then Mr. Hottender returned with your mixed drink. You went to hand him a 20. Shaking his head, he rejected the money, “looks like this one’s on him.” Nodding over to Tyler who was standing next to you. 

 You smiled over at Tyler and said “It really wasn’t necessary, but thank you.”

 “You’re welcome, so do you come here often?”

 “You’re really gonna use that lame pick up line” you fired back.

 Tyler looked sheepishly down at the floor and then back up at you. “What I meant to say was...I haven’t really seen you around here before. I would’ve noticed someone as beautiful as you.”

 You looked him straight in the eye, and you both bursted out laughing.

 “Sorry that really wasn’t much better was it” he laughed.

 “No not really” you chuckled in return. “But to answer your question, I’ve been here a few times, not many. I’m out with some friends. Speaking of which, they’re probably wondering where I went off to. Thanks again for the drink.” With that you turned, heading off, back to your friends.

 “Wait” Tyler grabbed your wrist, spilling your water some more; but you didn’t even notice that. There was something about when he touched you, a spark and not the static electricity kind. Your eyes moved to where his hand touched your wrist. It was like there was this magnetism in his touch that drew you in; skin feeling hot and cold at the same time. You wanted him to let go but then never let go; you couldn’t explain it. It seemed like forever but then you finally heard him say, “What’s your name?”

 As you looked up. He let go of your arm and the spell was broken. “(Y/N), and that’s all you get. You’ve got to work for the rest.” With that you moved with lightning speed back to where your friends were at.

TYLER’S POV

 You were glad to be back in Dallas. More importantly you were elated that you were back to playing hockey. Summer break was always fun but hockey was your passion. You had a little over a week before training camp, so you were going to live it up just a little bit longer before the season started. Which is how you ended up at the club and saw her walking in. She had the most beautiful smile you’d ever seen. She was with a group of friends and they were all laughing at something one of them had said. You couldn’t take your eyes off her. She wasn’t your typical girl. She definitely carried herself differently. Planning on what move to make on her, your train of thought was interrupted by your friend Mike.

 “Earth to Seggy, did you not hear a word I said man?”

 “Huh? What? No sorry” you replied. 

 “I said that blonde over there is giving you the ‘fuck me’ eyes. Are you gonna go make a move or what?”

 “What blonde? There are like a million here. Besides I’ve got more important things on my mind.”

 Mike looked at you quizzically. “More important than getting laid!”

 You finally looked at him and said “yeah didn’t you see that girl come in.” When he shook his head you continued, “the one over…..” Shit where did she go. You just saw her a second ago. You scanned the club looking for her and didn’t see her. 

 “Are you sure it’s not that blonde right there. I mean she looks like she’s totally down for anything.”

 “I could care less about her. Go shoot your shot if you want. I’m more interested in finding that girl with the million dollar smile.” 

 Mike shrugged at you and moved over to the blonde he was talking about. You continued to search the club when your eyes finally landed on her. There she was smiling again, sipping on some cocktail every now and then, which made you wish you were the straw. She seemed to be with just a group of girls but you could see guys swirling all around them. She whispered something to one of her friends and was headed off to what looked like the bar. This was your chance.

 You made your way up to the bar, dismissing some girl trying to get your attention. You planned on just buying her a drink when some guy bumped you; causing you to stumble into her spilling her drink. Shit, you thought not a way to make a great first impression. You apologized and offered to buy her a drink to make up for it. When she finally looked at you; it was like there was a moment of recognition in her face. Great, she knows who I am this is going to be easy;and then she turned and dismissed you. 

 What the hell just happened you thought to yourself? You tried to apologize again, when she told you it was just water. You saw Nick the bartender coming back with another drink for her so you nodded your head to him; signaling for him to just put it on your tab.

 She finally really acknowledged you, thanking you for the drink. You saw your chance.

 “You’re welcome, do you come here often?” Seriously what just came out of my mouth? Ugh this is going horribly. 

 She totally called you out on it. “You’re really gonna use that lame pick up line?”

 You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks so you looked down at the floor to get your shit together and started again. “What I meant to say was...I haven’t really seen you around here before. I would’ve noticed someone as beautiful as you.”

 Oh my god!!! That’s not what you meant to say at all! I have way more game than this. You looked at her, saw her start to laugh; and just busted out laughing right with her. God her laugh was even beautiful. It was like a melody you kept wanting to replaying over and over in your mind. 

 You apologized yet again. You were doing that a lot around her; but she was at least smiling at you now, and then she started answering your lame ass question. As soon as she finished though she turned to leave. You did the first thing that came to your mind and reached out to touch her, to stop her from going. “Wait,” you said.

 The minute you touched her you knew there was something between the two of you. She just felt right, like she was made for you. You had been drawn to her the minute she walked in, but this, this was different. You wanted to draw her closer to your body and never let go. You looked into her eyes and could tell she was feeling something too. You let go and asked the one thing you needed to know right now. “What’s your name?”

 She visibly shook herself and answered, “(Y/N), and that’s all you get. You’ve got to work for the rest.” With that she was off again and you were left standing there knowing that you’d work your ass off for any little piece of information she’d give you. 

[fckinwild-kiwi]

Time to Realize (pt. 2)

Warnings: swearing, smut Word Count: 6.3k

Important note: The Greek mythology throughout this piece does not accurately represent Greek mythology to its fullest extent. Some things are changed for the sake of the story. One major point is the relationship between Hades and the rest of Mt. Olympus. With that being said, their relationship isn’t family-oriented, but Hades is welcome throughout Mt. Olympus and everyone gets along enough to be considered tolerated.

A/N: Please give me some feedback on this smut, that’s the hardest thing for me to write and I struggled this whole chapter so let me know your opinions, please!

-----

As she walked back into her apartment, she was met with a smirking Christine and a wide-eyed Rowan. “Jesus Christ, guys! What the hell are you doing waiting up for me?”

“I saw you two pull back into the apartment and as the best friend that I am, I decided to eavesdrop a bit,” She said, crossing her arms. “Seriously though, how was it.”

“It was amazing, Harry is just…Amazing…”

“Oh come off it, he’s just a typical guy, how amazing could he possibly be.”

“That’s the thing, he’s not the same as the other assholes around here with two brain cells,” Y/n said as she nudged Rowan’s shoulder. “Harry’s been such a good friend and for the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to see him as more than that.”

“Wait, what the hell happened between you two?”

“It’s complicated, I guess,” Y/n started, looking down at her fingers. “The whole night was so weird. I met all these beautiful looking people who I just felt so… connected with. They were so kind and welcoming and listen to this Chris, a bunch of them knew my parents! They said they’ve been watching me as I’ve been practicing my botany skills and that they’re impressed. I’ve never felt prouder.

“And then there was Harry. He was just-ugh! He was so in his element tonight, mingling and introducing me to everyone like they were all his old friends. I’ve been pining over him for the last year and I started to think I had no chance and that he wasn’t interested at all but tonight… Oh my god, guys, I don’t even think I want to share these details because Ro would probably just get off on it but… Tonight we kissed! I pulled him into the kiss but then he pulled me back in again and I- “

“Y/n stop! Oh my god, you and Harry kissed? I wondered how long that was going to take! Rowan, you owe me twenty dollars.”

“Wait a second… You and Ro made a bet against how long it would take Harry and I to get together?”

“Of course we did. I thought it wouldn’t be until senior year, but Christine just kept insisting that it would happen before this year was over.”

“You’re such assholes!” Y/n said grabbing a pillow and throwing it at her friends. She couldn’t help but smile, had she been that obvious? She felt drawn to Harry in a way she couldn’t explain and know that she knew for a fact that he was interested in her too, just made her the beam.

“Goodnight, y/n,” Rowan said as he stepped up to engulf her in a hug, quickly trying to leave. “I’m going to head out now. I’ll talk to you two tomorrow.”

That night as she laid in bed thinking about Harry and the Adonis-like people she had met this evening, y/n couldn’t help but feel like for the first time she was finally in a place that felt familiar and comfortable, like home. As her anxiety and loneliness started to diminish, y/n could feel the happiness and positive energy flow not only through herself but also through the environment around her causing the plants and living things in her vicinity to feel the effects of that too.

The next morning y/n was woken up by the heavy pounding of someone knocking on her door. “Oh my fucking god, I’m going to kill whoever that is,” y/n growled, her eyes still closed as she tried to roll over.

The moment y/n got comfortable, the visitor at the door long forgotten, Christine knocked on her door. “Y/n, Harry is here. He comes bearing gifts.”

Y/n shot out of bed, opening her closet to throw on a baggy t-shirt and some sweatpants. At this point in their friendship, Harry wasn’t someone she was going to hide behind the mysterious veil of makeup. She tried that for a few weeks but with him hanging out so often, it was much easier to just let everything happen naturally. And that meant that sometimes she would see him with her crazy bedhead hair and oversized clothes. She quickly ran into the bathroom to brush her teeth and go to the restroom. When she walked out, she saw him sitting on her couch, holding a coffee.

“Hey mister,” y/n said, gaining the attention of the curly-haired boy. “I didn’t expect to see you so early today.”

“Hey love,” Harry said as he stood up and pulled y/n in for a hug, kissing her on the top of the head. “I know I should have called first, but I still haven’t explained everything about last night and it might take all day. I also missed you.”

“Oh yes, I cannot wait to hear all about the odd and mysterious thing but all I heard just now was that you missed me,” y/n said, grinning as she kissed him on the cheek. She didn’t have the fear of rejection lingering in the back of her mind anymore. Just knowing that Harry woke up at the butt crack of dawn because he missed her erased any doubts she still had frolicking her mind.

“I also brought you this coffee,” He said, pulling out the Starbucks cup from beside him. “Iced Carmel macchiato with almond milk.”

“You’re my favorite person on this planet. Christine still doesn’t know my order and I’ve known her the longest,” Y/n said, saying the last part loudly.

“Shut the hell up Y/n/n. Can you two get out of here so I can go back to bed?” Christine said.

“We should go, I forgot how early it was when I decided to just show up here,” Harry said. “Are you ready?”

“Is what I’m wearing presentable enough for whatever you have planned?”

“What you’re wearing is perfect. I think we’re just going to go by my place. It’ll be easier to explain things like that when we’re there… If it’s okay?”

“Oh, are you just trying to seduce me? Is that where this is leading?” Y/n asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Oh my god,” Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck as it turned a deep shade of red.

“I’m kidding,” Y/n said, gently reaching up to touch his pink-tinged cheeks. “I’ve known you for a year and I have still never even seen where you live. This is exciting for me!”

Harry just smiled before grabbing y/n’s hand and leading her towards the door. The pair walked out of the apartment complex and walked in the opposite direction of the parking lot.

“Harry where are we going? The cars are that way,” Y/n said, pointing the other direction.

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do.”

“This is going to require trust and a lot of it,” Harry said, sighing as he looked down at the girl in front of him. Y/n quickly stepped on her tippy toes, her hands finding Harry’s cheeks as she pulled him into a kiss. At the moment, she wasn’t sure if she was reassuring him of the trust she had in him or trying to make herself less guilty for questioning that trust at all.

“Let’s get to it then,” Y/n said after pulling away from the frazzled boy.

“You never cease to amaze me,” Harry said as he smiled. Once the fear of the unknown was erased, y/n and Harry continued walking deeper into the woods behind the apartment complex. As they trekked further, y/n didn’t feel fear but an overwhelming sense of direction. It felt as if she knew exactly where she was going even though she didn’t remember ever being in these woods before in her life.

“Harry,” Y/n said, causing Harry to stop where he was walking and stare at the girl beside him. She couldn’t feel him staring though. Y/n was mesmerized by yellow daffodil growing by a nearby tree. As she let go of Harry’s hand she walked toward the lone flower.

“What is it, love?”

“It’s so crazy to see this daffodil growing here,” She said as she got down on her hands and knees, lightly touching the flower. “They usually only grow in the springtime. How is it possible for them to grow in September?”

“I’m not sure, totally crazy,” Harry said as he stared at her in awe. She didn’t even know what she was doing but she was doing it all… so right. “You could pick it though if you wanted to, that way you could keep it with you.”

“I’d love to pick it, but I wouldn’t want to disturb whatever’s going on here. It’s way too precious.”

As she stood up, she noticed Harry shaking his head, his smile continues to grow. She gently tugged his arm, breaking him out of his little daze before they continued on their way. The deeper they walked into the forest, the darker their surroundings were. This made y/n’s heart rate pick up and a smile form on her face, almost as if she were riding a rollercoaster and swimming on an adrenaline high. She was loving every second.

A few minutes later, Harry stopped and stared at a nearby tree. “This is it, we’re almost there. This is the weirdest part if that’s even possible. You just really have to trust me here.”

“I do,” Y/n said, gripping his hand tighter as they walked towards the tree. She was getting more confused by the second, Harry was picking up his speed and it looked like he was going to walk right into the tree…And make her collide with him! She closed her eyes, bracing herself for impact but instead of slamming into the tree, she was hit with a new feeling: Heat, punishing heat.

As she opened her eyes and released a bit of her death grip on Harry, she noticed how different her surroundings were. PEOPLE were swimming in a moat-like area around the floor they were standing on. It was entirely clear that she wasn’t in Massachusetts anymore…

“Y/n,” Harry said, causing her to snap her head towards him. “This is where I live…”

“I love it down here!”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up and mouth fell open. Maybe he thought the disgustingly hot feeling would turn her away. Or maybe he assumed that she would hate the souls of the dead swimming around their feet or be terrified of his pet—

“Is that a dog!”

“Yeah his name is Cerberus,” Harry said chuckling as he watched her approach the usually ferocious pup with no fear. The second she made it to the pup, all three of his faces changed from their usual angry demeanor to something Harry hadn’t seen in this way before, excitement.

“H, Cerberus is SUCH a good boy,” She said, getting on her hands and knees for the second time today, this time to get closer to the happy pups begging for her attention. “You are. You’re such a good boy!”

“If I had known that bringing you here would make you lose all interest in me and turn it on to my dog… I would have brought you somewhere else to talk.”

“Oh stop it, you do not need to be jealous,” Y/n said, her attention still focused on Cerberus. “The fact that you have such a beautiful and might I add, exotic, pup just adds to my interest in you.”

“C’mon love,” Harry said. “Cerberus has a job to do and I have some explaining to do. If everything goes well with us, he’ll be happy to see you again later.”

“Okay, see you later honey,” Y/n said before kissing each of his heads and standing back up. She grabbed Harry’s hand again wrapping her arm around his, they walked past Cerberus and towards some thick stone French doors. Once they opened, y/n was mesmerized and hit with some cold air. The interior of the Underworld, while, in this instance, was cold and drab were instantly brightened the second y/n stepped through the threshold. The once dark appearance of the walls softened into a dark grey instead of the original deep black color that once colored the walls. Marble crowned moldings lined the ceilings of the Underworld with bright red accents flicked in. The stereotypical appearance one would associate with the Underworld was nothing to what y/n was experiencing this very moment. Maybe it was due to her bias towards Harry, but y/n felt at home. She felt that maybe this was where she was meant to be.

Harry watched y/n closely, trying to pick up on any distaste or discomfort she may have. Little did Harry know, y/n was so engrossed in her surroundings and her ever-growing feelings towards Harry to feel anything negative.

“Right through here are my living quarters,” Harry said as he ushered y/n in through another door.

“You have your quarters,” she said, using air quotes. “So what you’re telling me is that you’re a rich bitch?”

“I guess you could say that,” Harry said, chuckling at the reaction he was getting. “C’mon, let’s go sit on the couch.”

Y/n followed behind him as she continued to take in her surroundings. His living space even surprised her. It was dark grey with different accents that brought lots of color in such a modern way she wasn’t sure if the men she had been with previously would ever have the advanced taste that Harry did.

Harry turned around and pulled y/n along with him, guiding her towards the couch. As they sat down, he wrapped his arms around her and enveloping her in a hug.

“Are you being quiet because you just want to enjoy my company or do you just not want to talk about it,” Y/n said a few minutes later, the suspense was killing her. “Because as much as I would love to just sit here and cuddle with you, I’m also dying to know what else you’re hiding from me.

“It’s not that bad, y/n,” Harry said as he released a breath, he didn’t know he was holding. “Do you know anything about Greek Mythology?”

“Of course, I was such a nerd in school, it was so interesting, and I felt so connected to it.”

“Of course you did,” Harry said, letting out a small chuckle. “Well before I start… Please keep an open mind.”

Y/n nodded her head before looking back up at Harry. “This might sound crazy but I’m Hades, King of the Underworld.”

Harry paused awaiting her reaction before y/n started to laugh. “Right, okay.”

“You think it’s a joke but I’m telling you the truth. There’s a story about Persephone and Hades, it’s a prophecy because it’s not fictional. That’s the only prophecy that hasn’t come true yet. The only one! And I’ve spent so long waiting for the love of my life, and I’ve been searching for her for hundreds of years. It wasn’t until Demeter had another child that I regained my hope.”

“Who’s Demeter?” Y/n asked, interrupting his story.

“Oh, you met her the other night, but she introduced herself as Demi,” Harry said as he clarified, pausing to gauge her reaction before continuing. “The prophecy stated that Hades will eventually break the curse of loneliness and despair from a woman named Persephone. She will be both kind and cruel, using both only at the most necessary of times. It’s prophesied that she will live with him in the Underworld. That’s you y/n, you’re my Persephone.”

“Wait for a second, this is all so much,” Y/n said trying to slow down her brain to process each part. “You’re telling me that you’re a god and all those people we met the other night are gods too?”

“Yeah I am, it probably sounds weird when you say it like that.”

“Harry, that’s not what makes it sound weird,” Y/n said, nudging his shoulder with her arm. “But does that mean that Demi is…”

“Your mom, yeah.”

“No way, my mom died after I was born. It was a freak car accident.”

“That’s not the truth, y/n. Your parents are Demeter and Zeus, you were introduced to them as Demi and Jove,” Harry said, rubbing her cheek. “When you were born there were a few people afraid of what you would mean to me, your parents, and the underworld. They didn’t know who at the time, but someone kidnapped you from Mt. Olympus… They had been trying to find you for years and then when they finally did… You were already on your own and thriving.”

“My parents are alive? I just that's so crazy… I’ve spent the last twenty years thinking I was alone and now to find out I’m not is-,” Y/n paused to wipe away her tears. “Harry it’s such a relief.”

“C’mere love,” he said pulling her into another hug. “You were never alone, I’m sorry that it ever felt like you were.”

Y/n molded into Harry resting her cheek on his chest. Of course, she wasn’t alone, not anymore. “Harry?”

“What is it, honey?”

“This prophecy… Is it kind of insinuating that I’m your mate?”

“Basically. If werewolves were real and I was a werewolf, the attraction I feel towards you now would feel similar to mating werewolves,” Harry said, choosing his words carefully.

“Woah,” Y/n said as she pushed herself off of Harry’s couch. “So you’re like really into me…”

“Yes, I am,” Harry said as he tried to hold back a laugh at y/n’s bewildered expression. “That doesn’t mean that you’re obligated to feel everything back towards me or in the same way. Being raised in the mortal world changes things for a person. I don’t want to smother you.”

"And this place is the Underworld? Like those were people floating out there in the water?"

"Well yes, this is the Underworld," Harry said as he chose his words carefully. "Those aren't exactly people floating down there but their souls instead."

“Is it a completely inappropriate time to ask if we could make out?” She asked, her cheeks turning red, but her eye contact never faltering.

“Maybe,” Harry said, smirking at her. “But I would never decline such a tempting offer from my girl. That is pretty dark though. Me telling you about the floating souls makes you want to make out?”

Y/n giggled as she leaned in, molding her lips to Harry’s. The first contact of every kiss between the two felt more magical than the one before. Harry grabbed y/n’s hips bringing her closer by pulling her body into his lap. The surprise of the contact caused y/n to gasp allowing Harry to deepen the kiss. When she felt his tongue swipe across her lower lip, she couldn’t help but groan at the contact.

Y/n pulled away, reaching for the hem of her shirt to pull it over her head before Harry stopped her. “Baby no, we don’t have to.”

“I want to Harry,” She said before pulling her shirt off completely. “I know what I want and right now, I want you.”

“Are you sure?”

Y/n smiled while nodding before reaching for his shirt. Harry lifted his arms, making the process easier. Once they were both shirtless, Harry reached for the waistband of her sweatpants. “May I?”

“Yes, please,” Y/n said before lifting her hips to allow the process to go smoother. Once her pants were off y/n quickly unhooked her bra before throwing it across the room. She wasn’t normally the kind of girl who had her full confidence while sitting naked in front of a lover but there was something in the way that Harry was looking at her that washed all of her worries and doubt away.

“You’re so beautiful, love. C’mere,” Harry said, letting out a breath as he reached for her face before bringing their lips back together. They kiss once again becoming more passionate as they continued the sensual assault on each other’s lips.

“Y/n,” Harry said as he broke away, his breathing erratic. “Can I try something? Can I eat you out?”

“Oh my god,” Y/n said, her eyes growing wide. No one had ever done that for her before let alone ask but she couldn’t deny that his blown pupils and dreamy look on his on the face had her dying to figure out what this man could do with his tongue.

“We don’t have to- “

“Fuck no, please eat me out, please- “

Before she could finish her sentence, Harry stood up, smiling as he motioned for her to sit back on the couch. She watched him, nerves raking through her body but as he reached forward to pull the lower half of her body closer to the edge of the couch.

“You have such a pretty pussy, love,” Harry moaned out, getting on his knees to get a look.

“H stop staring and get to work,” Y/n said, her cheeks getting hot but her body getting impatient. He quickly got the memo as licked a stripe along her slit.

“Mm, you taste so good, baby.”

Y/n moaned out as her legs spasmed unexpectedly, a dull ache started to burn in her lower abdomen. She reached out, tangling her fingers into his hair and tugging. “Don’t stop,” she sighed, her grasp tightening on the handful of hair.

“Does that feel good, love,” Harry asked, looking up at her through his eyelashes with a smirk on his face.

“It feels so good. So good, oh-!” She said as Harry slipped two fingers inside, stretching her out before continuing his assault on her clit.

“I’m sorry lovey, you’re just so tight. I’m a bit big so we need to stretch you out a little bit,” Harry said as he began shaping his fingers in a come-hither motion, brushing the spongey part inside of her.

“Oh my god, I’m going to cum” Y/n whimpered. Her legs were trying to squeeze shut but Harry grabbed onto her inner thighs as he rested, rubbing gently on the soft flesh but pulling them apart.

“Let it out, baby,” Harry said, before curling his fingers again.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Y/n chanted after his fingers grazed her g-spot again, causing her to find her release.

“You did so well, baby,” Harry said as he stood up and scooped y/n up in his arms before walking across the room with her in his arms and placing her on his bed.

“Kiss me,” y/n mumbled, reaching for Harry’s face.

“You’re incredible,” he responded before, pressing his lips against hers again. Y/n continued caressing Harry’s face with one hand, but she trailed the other hand down his torso, reaching inside of Harry’s sweatpants and boxers.

“You’re so big,” she whined against his mouth.

“Quit it, baby, you’re inflating my ego way too much,” Harry said before smirking at her.

“Do you want me to suck you off right now?” Y/n questioned, looking at Harry with hooded eyes, still in her post-orgasm bliss.

“You don’t even know what you do to me,” Harry said as he shook his head before pressing a wet kiss against her neck. “Of course I’d love for you to suck me off but how about we save that for another time, yeah? I don’t think I’d last very long anyway.”

“Yeah, later,” Y/n said, her heart rate starting to pick up in anticipation. After a moment she softly said, “Please fuck me, Harry.”

“Sh, patience lovey,” Harry said before pressing another quick kiss to her lips. He pulled back before reaching into his nightstand to grab a condom. Y/n leaned forward, grabbing Harry’s pants and pulling them down to his knees before snatching the condom from his hands.

“You take your pants of mister; I’ll take care of this.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Harry said, his eyes wide before he started scrambling to take his pants off. Once he was fully naked y/n sat up on her knees, ripping off the top of the package. Grabbing his dick with one hand, y/n leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to the leaking red head of his cock.

“You told me that you didn’t want a blowie right now, but I still had to show it some attention,” Y/n mumbled out as she rolled the condom on, causing Harry to hiss in pleasure.

Once everything was situated, y/n leaned back against the pillows on the bed, letting her legs fall to the side, inviting Harry to follow her. He quickly got the idea, moving to align his body with hers. Harry grabbed his dick, nudging the head against her folds before asking again for reassurance.

“I’m sure H, I’m so sure,” y/n said as she rubbed the hair off his forehead. “Give it to me.”

With that, Harry pushed inside slowly. Inch by inch allowing her to take a few moments to adjust and accommodate the foreign feeling. After Harry bottomed out, filling her up to the hilt, y/n was engulfed with pleasure. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing her heels into his lower back.

After hearing her moans of pleasure, Harry pulled back out slowly before quickly thrusting back into her. “You feel so good, baby. You’re taking me so well.”

“So fucking good,” Y/n said, her hands reaching for his hair again.

“How are you so tight,” Harry moaned as he continued his thrusts. Y/n let out another loud moan before reaching down to rub her

clit. Harry noticed the action and pushed her hand away.

“Harry, baby, I’m so close,” y/n whined.

“I know baby, me too, but let me take care of you,” Harry said as

he replaced her hand with his, rubbing circles on her clit to bring her over the edge.

   “I’m gonna- fuck!”

   “Me too baby,” Harry said. After a few more thrusts he let out a particularly pornographic groan, causing y/n’s heart to swell with pride knowing it was her that was partly responsible for how he felt.

   Harry laid his body partially on top of y/n’s. Both of them riding their orgasms out together. A few moments later, Harry pulled out, tying the condom and throwing it in the trashcan beside his bed. He stood up, walking to the bathroom that was attached to his living quarters and grabbing a warm washcloth to clean y/n. After they were both cleaned up, she watched him crawl back into bed before grabbing the duvet at the end of the bed and covering them both with it.

   “Can I have some cuddles,” Y/n asked, making grabby hands at Harry.

   “You can have cuddles any time you want, my love,” Harry said before wrapping his arms around her body and kissing her forehead.

   “Thank you for today, Mr. King of the Underworld,” she mumbled out, sighing in content at the warmth of his arms surrounding her.

   “Thank you for staying here and not letting it scare you off,” Harry breathed out. “You blow my mind.”

“I can’t believe that you’re my boyfriend,” She said, before closing her eyes and drifting to sleep.

Y/n was hot. Not in a ‘we just had sex that was hot’ kind of way. But she felt like she was on fire. She tried to sit up before she realized where she was. Y/n laid back down, placing her head back onto Harry’s chest. She hadn’t spent a lot of time in her life wondering what Hades would feel like. But as she spent a few moments letting her mind wonder she could feel herself imagining that the fictional Hades was cold as ice, considering his rough exterior and need to be on guard at all times. As she relaxed in Harry’s grasp though, she realized that no matter what kind of imaginary scenario she played out in her head, no matter how she pictured the fictional depiction of Hades… Harry was nothing like that.

Even from the start when she noticed the beautiful brooding man getting frustrated with his brown thumb, he was warm and kind. Maybe he was just that way with her, maybe the whole prophecy as he called it was true. But the assumptions and stories that were written about him had got it all wrong. He was a serious man, that part was written correctly but he had to be considering what his job demanded of him. Beneath that hard shell of an exterior though, he was kind and he had a soft heart. Spending time writing poetry and writing songs about love. He wanted to make her happy, and y/n took notice. There was absolutely no hiding it, as she reveled in her surroundings and the comfortable feeling of his arms, she allowed herself to admit that she was completely and utterly smitten with Harry.

Over the last year y/n had noticed little things about him, things that always brought a bit of hope when considering a relationship simmering the back of her mind. He had a rough exterior and a serious expression. He wore that often but for some reason whenever he looked towards her, it softened. She liked that she had that kind of effect on him, it made her feel special. And now she didn’t have to worry about those fleeting moments because he was hers and she was his. They hadn’t discussed the gritty details but to her, it was a relationship through and through. She didn’t have to question her value in his life because he was doing a great job of showing her, constantly.

“Ello love,” Harry said as he stirred from his nap, pulling her into him tighter.

“Hi, handsome.”

“I just remembered something,” Harry said, his cheeks turning red.

“And what is that?”

“I wrote you a little something… I was going to give it to you before dinner the other night, but I chickened out. I’m not afraid to give it to you anymore. I know you won’t judge me.”

“Oh really,” Y/n said, smiling up at him before kissing him on the cheek. “Well, go get it for me Mr. Poetry.”

Harry got out of bed before walking into the other room. Moments later he walked back in carrying a folded sheet of paper. He slowly sat back down on the bed before handing over the sheet of paper. Y/n made grabby hands, quickly intercepting the paper. As she opened it, she felt her heart swell.

To my sweet Persephone,

You know me as Harry, you’ve been able to get to know me in

a way few souls ever have. There are a few things my heart, usually hard as stone but soft as putty for you, aches to tell you. I’ve never seen a soul radiate the kind of energy that yours does. It is both the most beautiful soul that I can see bubbling over with kindness and also a very dark soul hardened with darkness. You care and create life through plants with just your fingertips, whether you know it or not… This is one of the things you were born to do. This just proves that you are the most extraordinary woman on this planet. A goddess, if you will. The prophecy likes to paint the picture as me being the bad guy, one who will kidnap you and force you to spend your days locked in solitude with me. That couldn’t be farther from the truth, my love. It’s true, I would love for you to live with me, rule the Underworld as my Queen. That is if you’re ready for that.

I love you.

 H Xx.

   Y/n felt the air leave her chest as she stared at the words in front of her. ‘LOVE.’ As cliché as it was, those were her favorite combination of letters. She took a deep breath, taking a second to flash through all of her memories. Never in her life had she felt such an overwhelming sense of belonging.

   “You don’t have to say it back,” Harry said quickly, rubbing the back of his burning neck. “It’s hard to explain but the second we met; I always knew I was destined to love you. With that in mind, it wasn’t hard for me to just fall into it. I know this is all new to you so you’re probably not quite there yet and I don’t want you to feel obligated to say it back.”

   Y/n smiled before looking up at Harry’s nervous eyes. “I’m not going to say I’m there yet, because I was raised in the mortal world and it would make me crazy to just throw out those eight letters. I know that I’m getting there, though. You’ll just have to be patient with me.”

   Harry nodded, a smile forming. “I’ll take that.”

   Y/n smiled back at the green-eyed man in front of her, nuzzling her face in his chest before wrapping her hands around his waist. “Can you show me around your little kingdom, please.”

   “You know I couldn’t tell you no,” Harry said as he kissed her forehead. “I just don’t want it to freak you out.”

   “Hey Mr. Tough guy, don’t get too soft on me now. You wouldn’t want all the lost souls floating around here to think that you have any weaknesses,” she said nudging his nose with hers.

   “I know for a fact that you’re not one of my weaknesses, at least not where other people are concerned. I’m not going to lie though; I might get a little possessive of you around other people or even around the souls in the river…”

   “A little possessiveness is sexy,” She said before putting her hands on his cheeks and pulling him in for a quick kiss. “Let’s go explore now!”

   Much to Harry’s reluctance, they got out of bed and put on their clothes. He guided her out his sleeping quarters and down the poorly lit corridor into what one would be considered a dungeon. Instead, though, it was the workspace of Hades with a desk in the center of the room with a chair that held the essence of a throne. Y/n brought her hands to the chest before turning around and letting out a squeal.

   “This place is so fucking cool,” She said speaking her thoughts. “It’s exactly how I pictured Hades in the Underworld. All dark and badass. I was expecting some floating souls or something more terrifying though.”

   “Oh my Gods, woman! Of course, you were expecting the souls. They’re this way,” He said before shaking his head and grabbing her hand again. For the third time that day, y/n followed Harry down another corridor. This time though, the further they walked down the hallway the brighter and warmer it got.

   “It’s uncomfortably warm down here, H.”

   “That’s only because we are so far down in Earth’s core. The myths don’t get it all right, there aren’t any crazy fires that burn people for eternity… It’s just so hot because of the molten lava,” Harry said nonchalantly as he opened a large steel door that revealed the millions of souls that resided there.

   “Woah,” Y/n said with wide eyes as she stepped through the threshold of the room. In front of her was the River of Lost Souls. The souls weren’t lost per se but instead were just destined to swim around the river aimlessly and for eternity. This would be considered a reward for the souls that weren’t destructive or murderous during their lives. There was always a chance for these souls, if able to prove themselves to return to the world of the living or working in the Underworld if granted the privilege by Hades himself. The tortured souls though were destined to an eternity of punishment and damnation. Forced to spend the rest of the days doing the things that torment them the most, a form of the cruelest kind of punishment.

   “It’s kind of mesmerizing when you first look at it,” Harry said as he looked at y/n while rubbing the back of his neck.

   “What happens if you touch the water,” Y/n said as she took a step forward, bending down to place her hand in the water. The moment that her hand made contact with the water; a hand wrapped around her wrist causing Y/n scream.

   “Harry, what’s happening!” She said, using all of her strength to get her hand back from the unknown captor.

Quickly Harry reached into the water himself and grabbed the hand clutching Y/n’s wrist. As he detached the hand he bent down to the water before sternly saying, “You have lost all rights to one day be rewarded freedom or opportunities. At this moment you have been banished to live out the rest of the days in eternal punishment.”

“What did you just do,” Y/n asked as soon as Harry stood back up.

“I just punished the soul that harmed you,” He said before grabbing her wrist to inspect the damage done.

“That’s not fair to that soul,” Y/n said before turning the wrist in his grasp to hold onto his forearm. “They were just trying to get the attention of you. I think you should let them return here if this is an easier punishment. I’m not hurt, it just scared me.”

“I can’t do that because I will not be seen as weak,” Harry said, his eyes going darker at the possibility of losing control of the soul.

“You won’t be seen as weak; I doubt you’ve ever done anything like this before. Please do it this once, for me?” Y/n asked as she pouted her lips before looking up into Harry’s eyes.

“You have way too much control over me,” Harry said before smiling down at her softly and pressing a kiss on her forehead.

Y/n smiled before kissing his cheek and saying, “Do you want to go back to your room and cuddle? Unless you have work to do and need me to leave…”

“I would love to go back and cuddle with you.”

[piratewithvigor]

Love Break My Heart: Chapter 3

Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Summary: A half-life relationship is disintegrating at the seams. Neither of them is good for the other, but after 14 years together, they don’t know how to be with each other anymore.

Word Count: 2179

A/N: This is a prize story written for @slashscowboyboots​ that is getting written super fast because I seem to be on a roll. Unless I get hit with a massive plot bunny, the next chapter will be the final one.

I’m running. It’s a distant memory from long ago, but I can feel the uneven gravel under my sneakers. Every little pebble getting stuck in the grooves of the sole. My lungs are aching for air, but I’m not slowing down. I can’t afford to slow down. The tree shows itself over the horizon and I exhale hard in relief. The tree is safety presenting itself to us, allowing us reprise.

I don’t slow down until I grab hold of the tree, the bark scraping the skin on my hand and wrist. Only then do my feet stop moving. Axl arrives moments after I do, tagging into pause in much the same way, but not drawing blood from his palm like I did.

His face is much the same as it is now. A jawline that could cut glass and lips appearing just as soft. His hair is a little shorter and not quite as straight, but he’s already well on his way to having it be too long for most of Indiana. The one thing that’s never changed are his eyes. Even as he’s gasping for air with his hands on his knees, he looks up at me and his eyes are the same. They remind me of the day I first noticed them: a stormy day with a grey sky shadowing over green fields. We’d snuck out of class to smoke under the bleachers of the football field and got caught in the storm. We stayed mostly dry there and got the best view of the downpour. Axl had said something that made me look into his eyes and notice them for the first time. His words exactly are lost to me.

Once Axl catches his breath, he straightens up and grins.

“So you beat me here; big whoop.”

“I don’t think that’s what the deal was,” I counter, crossing my arms as I lean against the tree.

“What deal? I don’t remember a deal.” He’s trying to look innocent and for a moment, it almost works on me. But no fourteen-year-old buys crap that obvious.

“C’mon, Bill. You gotta do it. I beat you fair and square.”

Axl sighs before taking a few steps back from me to give himself space. To his credit, he isn’t one to back down from a bet, no matter how stupid it was. And this was the epitome of stupid.

“Friday night and the lights are low, looking out for a place to go…” His voice sounds ridiculous when mentally compared to the original vocals of Dancing Queen, but his attitude towards it is perfect. With the front of his hair fluffed out to the sides, he looks just like a ginger version of Agnetha Fältskog.

I’m cracking up during the entire performance. Partly because of watching my best friend make a fool of himself to no one but me, but also because he’s putting so much effort into it. I didn’t even know he knew all the words to Dancing Queen, but life surprises you daily. The chorus is the moment he truly belts out into the open field. It’s the moment when I watch all of the cares leave his body. All the stress. Everything he has to suffer through at his house is forgotten and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was enjoying himself.

I’m almost sad to hear the song end, but it does. And with an almost regal bow that I’m sure caused Axl to brush the grass underneath with his elbow. Just to play along, I’m applauding. I’m sure he thinks it’s to make fun of him, which is what the whole ordeal was supposed to be about in the first place, but there’s a hint of sincerity in there that I hope he picks up on.

“Thank you, thank you, all,” he declares, speaking to an imaginary audience. “We’ve been ABBA and now we’re going to shut the fuck up so no one has to hear that goddamn song ever again.”

“Bold words coming from someone who knows every line.” I smirk, sitting down with my back against the tree.

“Everyone knows every line. When’s the last day you haven’t heard that fucking noise on the radio?” He gripes, sitting down across from me.

“Fair enough. Wish they’d play more of the good stuff. Like that new Aerosmith album.”

Axl covers his ears in a hurry.

“Don’t say anything about it! I’ve been saving my allowance for three weeks to get it, so don’t spoil it!” I chuckle and reach over to pull his hands away from his ears.

“I won’t say anything, but why don’t you just come to my place to listen to it?”

“I can’t listen to anything for the first time with someone else in the room. It ruins the experience.”

“That seems stupid.”

“It’s not stupid! It’s like… It’s like the movies, y’know?” I raise my eyebrow at him. He’s fumbling for an explanation hard enough that he looks like he might fall over. “Like, when you go to the movies, sometimes you can go with someone if you don’t really care about it, because half your attention is watching how the other person reacts the entire time and it doesn’t matter. But if you go alone, you can really pay attention to the details.”

“Guess that makes sense. You’ve really thought this through, huh?”

“You gotta. What’s the point in enjoying something unless it’s the best experience it can be?”

Axl’s eyes have lit up while he’s talking. If I’m being honest, my mind is in two places as I listen: half focused on what he’s saying and half watching him say it. Axl doesn’t talk with his hands too much like how some people do when they get passionate. He talks with his eyes. You can only see it if you’re truly looking for it. It might be the reason why none of the adults ever thought he cared about anything. But he truly does.

“Is being alone all you need to enjoy an album?” I eventually ask, on the realisation that I haven’t said anything in a few moments.

“Usually. Sometimes I smoke a little, but that’s only for, like, Pink Floyd or something. Speaking of which…” He gives me a look and I know he knows I know what he’s talking about. It’s still fun to dick around with him anyway.

“Speaking of what?”

“C’mon, Jeff…”

“You must have me confused with some kind of scoundrel,” I smirk, pulling my cap down over my eyes.

“I have you confused with no one, you pothead dipshit,” Axl laughs, flicking my cap off.

“Well, since you were so mean to me, I’m just going to smoke it all, then.”

“I’ll frisk you over it.” He says it like a threat, but my heart still skips a beat when he says it.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

I hadn’t noticed we were in a Mexican standoff until we were already knee-deep. He was on his knees, staring me down without a hint of joking in his expression. I was doing my best to keep the same stoicism on my face, but something in the air was making me want to giggle. It was probably only a minute or so before I cracked and reached into my shirt pocket to toss the little baggie of joints at him.

“Yeah, I’m the pothead,” I snickered as I watched him light one up eagerly.

“You’re baked more than a Dunkin Donuts,” he countered, exhaling happily.

“No shit, idiot. Donuts are fried.”

“Just like your brain from how much you smoke.”

The back-and-forth continues and only grows sillier as we smoke. We both consider ourselves experts on pot. Real hot shit because we know how to do it without coughing too much. Typical young teenager dumbassery.

The evening is growing later and our conversation is calmer. Less silly and more dreamy. Axl is no longer sitting across from me, but beside me with his back to the tree as well to make passing the joint back and forth easier. Our shoulders are brushing and sometimes hands as well. If I weren’t a little high, I never would have thought anything of it, but my mind keeps getting drawn back to every detail about the kid sitting beside me. Details like how he always smells like old books on Monday morning because he spent all of the day before at church. How his clothes never quite fit him right because they’re either from when he was a kid, or he’s lost weight. How soft his hair feels when a light breeze blows a few strands into my face.

“When we get out of here, we’re going to be huge,” he murmurs, finally accepting that we’ve smoked the joint down to the nub and puts it out.

“I mean, yeah, obviously. Who wouldn’t want to listen to you, Miss Disco Queen?” I tease. He punches me lightly in the arm.

“I’m serious. We could totally make it. We’ve got the stuff.”

“And when have you ever heard of someone from Indiana really making it big?”

“No one from Indiana, exactly, but tons of hick kids make it big. Like, Liverpool is the hick town of England, I think.”

“You serious?”

“I mean, probably. They sound like hick English guys when they talk.”

“And Buddy Holly was from a hick Texas town.”

“Jeff, he died when he was 23. Not the greatest role model.”

“He was 22, but think of it: that was almost 20 years ago and people still like him.”

“What’s your point?”

I shrug and cross my fingers behind my head to cushion it from the tree. “Dunno anymore. Guess that anyone can make it with the right stuff.”

Axl seems to agree with me because he doesn’t say anything else.

The moment is one that sticks with me long afterwards. In the 14 years since we’ve been 14, I still remember every detail. My back is aching against the rough back poking through my shirt and I know Axl’s back is hurting from the beating he’d gotten a few days ago. The bruises were finally turning away from the nasty black and blue, but now they were yellow, which was almost worse. He’s leaning on me a little bit. Not in a way that implied anything, just in a way that expressed his exhaustion from the evening. The sun is setting in front of us and I almost wish I had brought my sunglasses. I usually never go anywhere without them, but the race from my house to the tree was something I couldn’t risk losing them on. In a way, I’m glad. It means nothing is blocking the colours. The sky is the same orange as Axl’s hair. The setting sun over the horizon feels the same way the colour appears; warm, safe. I’m feeling the gold-laced orange on my face and against my fingers as I lower my hands from behind my head and tentatively wrap one around Axl’s shoulders. He doesn’t move beyond adjusting to allow me to place my arm comfortably and I take it to mean he’s okay with the change. Just in case I took his body language wrong, I turn to him to check and my body freezes. The glow of the dusk is still radiating from him, making his hair glow. It feels like I’m holding a small ball of fire under my arm. He turns to look up at me and I feel I should turn away, but I can’t bring myself to. The sight is too spectacular to have end.

Axl ends it for me.

Before I can apologise for my staring, his lips are on mine. They’re just as soft as I always guessed they were. Plush and yielding and unwilling to let me back away. He tastes like the weed we just smoked with a hint of the burgers my mom made for us only a few hours ago. He tastes like Axl. Feels like Axl. I could make all the comparisons I wanted to, but at the end of the day, he was more than the sum of the parts I love about him. He’s Axl. My Axl.

He pulls away hardly an inch and I find myself as breathless as I was after sprinting a mile. Breathing isn’t as important as it once was. Nothing seems to be. Everything that’s important to me is already here.

“I hope that was okay…” He whispers, the lasting sunlight illuminating the blush spotting his cheeks. “I’ve been wanting to do that for months.”

“You’re not the only one,” I respond, cupping his face in my free hand. I pull him close and kiss him again, dissipating all the fear I know he held during the first.

I go back to this memory often. Reminding myself of the love we held for each other once upon a time. I’m back in it again tonight as I sit alone at the kitchen table, holding an ice pack to my face to ease the swelling after my Fireball successfully got me with a lamp.

[azwriting]

A Tea-ffee Date (The Writer and The Photographer, Harry Holland x Reader) - Chapter Four

Hi guys, sorry for the delay on this chapter! I got a little wrapped up in one of my other fics! Anyways here's chapter four, I hope you like it! Feedback is always appreciated, and let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! 

Summary: Harry and (Y/N) go on their tea/coffee date where Harry reveals he read her book and (Y/N) reveals she knew who the curly haired boy was all along. 

Warning(s): Language, Reader has bad relationship with Mom, slight angst

Word Count: 2557

(Y/N) could not contain the pure happiness that was soaking into her skin, like the shining sun above. It had been since, well, since never that she had felt so content and at peace with life. Sure she had, had moments of happiness throughout her life, but it had always seemed like a dark cloud was hovering somewhere nearby. The dark cloud usually her mother… 

(Y/N) shook away the thought, she was thousands of miles away, an ocean away, she would not let the woman get to her here. (Y/N) had a new job, a promising career of writing and editing ahead of her, and not to toot her own horn, but she was pretty damn proud of herself. She was living in London, beneath the warm spring sun, with her best friends and her sweet dog. Not to mention the cute boy next door with wild curls and a contagious laugh, that she was quickly becoming friends with. Who would have thought Spider-Man would be her neighbor? 

Oh yeah she totally knew who Harry and his briefly mentioned brother were, (Y/N) was a massive nerd after all. All of these were reasons as to why she could not, would not, let her own mother squander her ambitions and happiness from a continent away.

It was early Saturday afternoon when Harry strolled into the nearby coffee shop in Kingston, where he had planned to meet (Y/N) for their “Tea-ffee” date as she had called it one day in passing. The Writer had a meeting in the city this morning, so she would be running a tad behind, urging Harry to just meet her at the shop. Harry took a seat in a comfortable chair at a small antique wood table in the back, waiting for his plus one. 

Shifting in his seat, he could hear the crinkling sound of the folded piece of paper in his jeans pocket, the paper filled with questions, remarks, and small notes that he had after reading A Mild Case of the Crazies. The boy had read (Y/N)’s book in one night and he could not even lie, he cried, a couple times. (Y/N)’s childhood had had great moments, filled with love, happiness, laughter and excitement, but there were many parts of it that were heartbreaking, dejecting, and self-esteem squashing. 

Harry now knew her favorite color, her birthday, her favorite movies, that she was in fact a big nerd, her custody agreement, the close relationship she had with her father, and the very tough one she had with her mother. It all only drew him in more, like an insect captivated by a bright light. He knew it was odd to have such intense feelings for someone he had only known for a week, had only talked to a handful of times, most of them in passing, but he could not help the natural allure he felt inside. Harry simply had to befriend her…

Two minutes before the clock struck 12:30 p.m. the front door was pulled open to reveal a woman walking in, catching Harry’s attention. She wore a black long sleeve tucked into a black and gray plaid skirt, black sheer stockings and black booties. Her red lips, sunglasses, and crossbody purse the only color against her monotone outfit. (Y/N)’s headphones were in her ears as she entered the coffee shop, Harry was pretty sure he could hear the music from his seat, eyes hidden behind her sunglasses as she scoped out the small shop. 

Her head finally turned to Harry’s small corner and a large grin broke out across her face. She rushed over, pulling her headphones out of her ears and placing her sunglasses atop her head, revealing her sparkling (Y/E/C) eyes. “Hey!” She greeted warmly, Harry standing to hug her. (Y/N) pressed a quick kiss to his cheek during the hug and Harry was certain his cheeks had turned to the exact shade of red as (Y/N)’s lipstick imprint. She did not seem to notice and if she did, she did not mention it. “Did you order yet?” (Y/N) questioned pointing behind her to the front counter. 

Harry shook his head moving towards the line, “No, I was waiting for you.” 

(Y/N) smiled at that following suit, “And they say chivalry is dead!”

After ordering their drinks and Harry insisting to pay, the two sat back down with their drinks in hand, tea for Harry and an iced coffee for (Y/N). “So…” (Y/N) giggled taking a sip of her drink. 

“So…” Harry mirrored smiling at the girl across from him. 

“Where do you want to start?” Harry pondered for a moment, taking a sip of his tea, the liquid warming his insides, it may be early May but the cooler temperatures were still sticking in East London. 

“Oh, I know, I read your book!” (Y/N)’s eyes bugged out, choking on her current sip of coffee. 

“You did?!” 

Harry laughed nodding as he retrieved the folded piece of paper from his pocket, “And I have some questions!” He waved the piece of paper in front of (Y/N), who still seemed to be in shock. She could not process the fact that Harry Holland had read HER book! Harry unfolded the piece of paper, revealing both sides to be filled with tiny scrawls of notes, questions, etc. 

“Oh dear god!” Harry flushed, mildly embarrassed, he could not help but want to address certain aspects of the book, and it was not often where you could do so openly with the actual author. “How about we make a deal?” Harry’s eyebrow rose at that, “For every question you ask me, I ask one in return?” 

A soft innocent smirk spread across (Y/N)’s red lips and it had Harry instantly nodding, unsure of what he was getting himself into, but he reminded himself that this is what he signed up for. 

“Deal.” (Y/N) bit her lip, gesturing with a manicured finger for him to start. 

Clearing his throat Harry mindlessly read off his first question, “Is it true your mum and you haven’t spoken since the book? Even after the epilogue?” Harry could admit the book illustrated (Y/N)’s mother to be an interesting person, one who yes, loved her children, but had the wrong way of showing it. 

Throughout the book, throughout the different years and milestones (Y/N) covered in her early years of life, her mother had always seemed to be a looming presence, one that had and Harry would quote the book, ‘...dragged me down into a deep abyss of self doubt and depression. One that no matter how hard I tried to climb out of, her dark tentacles would pull me back down into her suffocating grasp.’ 

The line had resonated with Harry as the boy could not imagine his mother doing that to him, instead she had always pushed the boys to spread their wings not drown. Yet, after an entire 369 pages of (Y/N)’s life, many chapters delving into her increasingly tough relationship with her mother, the Epilogue had been dedicated to the woman. (Y/N) had expressed her understanding of her tough childhood, of their constant arguments, and the hurtful words. She wrote how she understood her mother’s own demons had weighed her down, causing problems in their bond and how her mother could not accept responsibility for tarnishing that precious bond, instead choosing to blame her own daughter and ex-husband. (Y/N) wrote how after writing the past 360 or so pages, she had finally greeted acceptance as an old friend, and accepted that these were parts of her past. And on the final page of the heart wrenching book in big bold lettering three words were written that sent the world into a spiral of emotions. 

‘I Forgive You.’

  It was heavy, the book was heavy, touching upon things not many other books chose to discuss, the relationship between a child and a mentally ill parent. 

(Y/N) let out a loud huff of air, “Starting off with the hot and heavy huh?” 

Harry’s eyes widened at that, how foolish of him to ask that question first or even at all, “I-I’m so sorry, you don’t need t-to answer!” (Y/N) shook her head, a small smile on her face reassuring him. 

“No no, I don’t mind. Trust me I’ve dished plenty to interviewers and even if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t mind telling you.” (Y/N) spoke calmly making Harry feel better. “No we haven’t talked really since the release of the book, almost two years ago now, but honestly she hasn’t even read the book. I believe she only read the first few chapters which I’ll admit don’t paint her in the prettiest light, but she never finished reading it.” (Y/N) shrugged, trying to hide the small frown on her features. Harry frowned with her, his sympathy going to the girl, he could not imagine his own mother acting in such a way.

 Clearing her throat, (Y/N) dismissed her sorrows and turned back to Harry, a smile returning to her face. “My turn,” She pretended to ponder for a moment tapping her finger against her chin, “What’s it like having three brothers?” 

Harry groaned, “A chaotic mess honestly!” He had answered so quickly, his mind had not even fully registered her question. “Wait!” His eyes widened and (Y/N) only smirked in return. “How do you know I have three brothers? I only mentioned one!” (Y/N) giggled lifting her shoulders in a simple ‘you caught me’ motion. 

“C’mon Harry! You read my book! I talk in extensive detail about my love for the Marvel movies! Hell, I was going to go to Film school so I could work for Disney before the whole book thing!” Film School? Ah yes he did remember reading about that in her book, another reason he was drawn to the girl. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Harry questioned, a small part of him beginning to doubt (Y/N)’s intentions with him, was she here to learn about Harry or his infamous heartthrob brother Tom?

 “I’m sorry would you prefer this,” (Y/N) paused inhaling sharply, “OMG Harry Holland is that you???” Her voice rose up an octave while still trying to be quiet in the store as to not draw any unwanted attention. 

Harry snorted, no he guessed he did not want that, but his inner doubt was still plaguing his thoughts, “So you’re a Spider-Man fan then?” 

(Y/N) nodded immediately, “Oh yeah love him, more of a Cap girl though.” Harry sighed a little, perhaps this was only an opportunity to meet famous actors, not that he thought so lowly of (Y/N), but he was just used to people cozying up to him for their own advantages. (Y/N)’s eyes narrowed watching him as if she was reading his thoughts, “I love Spider-Man don’t get me wrong, but I kinda have a thing for curly haired redheads.” She smirked at him as Harry’s face instantaneously burned bright red, her words squashing his doubts.

 “H-hey I’m not a redhead!” Harry defended, eliciting a loud laugh from (Y/N), the girl’s eyes widening in disbelief. 

“Oh Oh Oh you so are!”

The cool spring breeze whipped past the two as they walked down the sidewalk of Kingston, enjoying the sun and blossoming trees. “So you have a little brother?” Harry questioned, lightly bumping his shoulder into (Y/N). Her covered eyes looked over to him, a smile always on her lips, Harry never wanted her to stop smiling at him. 

“Yes I do, my pride and joy that goof!” (Y/N) laughed lightly, before looking off into the distance recalling something. Harry knew (Y/N) and her younger half brother had a close relationship, he had read all about it. Her Mother and Stepfather had always been working in their youth, leading to (Y/N) to practically raise the boy herself. An 11 year old girl becoming a parent to a 3 year old boy, it was absurd. 

Harry could only imagine the strain their mother had caused on their relationship as well, the book had described how she hated the motherly role (Y/N) had taken on for her brother. 

“He’s coming to visit during the summer, hopefully you can meet him!” (Y/N) spoke, returning to look at Harry, who nodded in agreement. The rest of the walk was quiet, the two mirroring flats coming into view. The two stopped in front of (Y/N)’s stairs, both fiddling with their feet as looked at each other, obviously hesitant to depart. 

The pair were unsure where this was leading; were they meant to be friends or something more? Neither could really tell, but the significant pull and attraction between the two was noticeable and unfightable, not that either one of them wanted to fight it.

 “Do you… do you want to come in?” (Y/N) asked, a nervous smile on her face. Harry grinned in return, his face was starting to hurt from all the smiling.

 “I’d like that.” With that, (Y/N) quickly turned on her heel and rushed up the steps to unlock the dark blue door, Harry following.

 “Honey I’m home!” (Y/N) shouted as she hung up her red crossbody onto one of many white hooks perched on the side wall. The flat was similar to Tom’s but this one appeared a tad bigger with a different layout and color scheme. Not to mention it looked much cleaner and more styled than Tom’s.

 “No one cares!” A voice called back and (Y/N) scoffed lightly as she removed her shoes and placed them in a shoe basket beneath the hooks. (Y/N)’s stocking covered feet shuffled forward on the dark wood floor as she bent down to greet the excited black lab who came bounding in, while Harry removed his shoes as well.

 “How was your date with the cute neighbor?” Another voice called making (Y/N) cough loudly as she walked into the kitchen on the left.

 “Um it went well, considering…” (Y/N) trailed off as Harry entered the kitchen behind her, Bella licking his palm, and the two twin girls surrounding the kitchen island going bugged eyed. “Harry this is Hayley,” (Y/N) pointed to the blonde girl standing behind the island, “and Madison”, she pointed to the brunette girl sitting on one of the bar stools at the island. “Guys this is Harry.” Short awkward waves were given along with small hello’s, (Y/N) only giggling as she moved to wash her hands at the large kitchen sink behind Hayley.

 “Idiot” Madison murmured under her breath, regarding Hayley’s remark about the cute neighbor, who happened to be in the townhouse as well.

 “God you’re so fucking annoying!” Hayley groaned back at her twin, which only earned her a huff in return.

 “Well you’re fucking ugly!” (Y/N)’s head dropped in the background as she snickered to herself and Harry had to hide his small laugh into the palm of his hand. The two twins were identical, besides their hair color, which only meant Madison was insulting herself. 

“Ok then!” (Y/N) laughed drying her hands on a blue kitchen towel, “I’m going to show Harry around. You two, keep doing whatever you are doing!” (Y/N) practically pushed Harry back down the front hall towards the stairs, unbeknownst to the eyes trailing after them. 

Madison leaned back in the black iron chair and Hayley leaned over to the kitchen island, the two watching their best friend and the neighbor ascend the stairs, both of them staring at each other fondly. 

“This oughta be interesting.”

Taglist:

@aloneinherroom​

@ineedabifriend​

[mhafanfics19]

Ch. 2 Jin

"She was a storm. Not the kind you run from, the kind you chase." ~ R.H. Sin

"You said you had things to discuss right? I'm all ears." Your voice comes out slightly muffled due to the cigarette between your lips, you quickly light it, and lean back in the bar stool waiting for Shigaraki to speak up.

The vermillion eyed male watches as you take a drag inhaling, and blowing the smoke towards the ceiling as you exhale. "They are more of questions I guess, I gotta say I've seen some photos of the cities you've all but leveled, it's pretty impressive. Can you tell me how your quirk actually works?"

Flicking the gray ashes into the ashtray, you nod as you speak. "Thanks, if I'm being honest most of that wasn't even intentional. My quirk can be unstable and lethal not only to people around me but to myself as well. It's easier for me to demonstrate if you want?"

Shigaraki eagerly nods as you put your cigarette out, stealing a glance at Dabi an idea comes to mind. Your quirk activates, a little bit of electricity slithers across the bar, and into your body. Lightning soundlessly flickers in your hand, you lean slightly closer to Shigaraki, your voice a barely audible whisper.

Shigaraki snorts and nods for you to continue, a smirk plastered on your face as a you shoot a small bolt of lightning at Dabi's glass, shattering it instantly.

His body immediately bursts into blue flames, in an a second you are ripped from your seat and harshly trapped against the wall, a burnt hand gripping your shirt tightly.

"Was that supposed to be funny? You really want me to burn that pretty skin of yours don't you, doll?" Your brows furrow at the flaming man in front of you, "Don't get your panties in a twist, I was fucking around, if you really want to act all big and bad I can easily burn you more to a crisp than you already are."

Lightning sparks in your hand, showing Dabi your words weren't just an empty threat, a low growl rumbles in his chest as he releases you. "Don't pull that shit again, I will fry you next time."

Rolling your eyes, you roughly push past him and reclaim your seat next to Shigaraki. "At dark I'm going back to my apartment, I have no problem being in the league but the comfort of my own place sounds real nice right about now."

Shigaraki is silent, mulling something over in his head, after what seems like forever he finally speaks. "Take Dabi with you, I can't have such a useful member getting arrested by the heroes, now can I?"

You choke on air at his demand, total bewilderment on your face. "Are you high? Did you not just see what happened? No fucking way is he coming with me, I'm perfectly capable on my own." Red eyes narrow at you challengingly, annoyance lacing his words. "He goes, or you stay, this isn't up for debate."

This elicits a scoff from you, crossing your arms over your chest, not dropping the subject as you press further. "Why can't it be someone else? Literally anyone but him, because if he goes, I'm the only one coming back tomorrow. He will be extra crispy in a ditch somewhere."

Shigaraki's fingers twitch as the urge to scratch invades his body, "You act like a child, but whatever, take Twice with you." With that he walks away, a door slamming a few seconds later echoes through the bar, spinning around in the stool you face the villains all occupied doing their own things.

"Which one of you is Twice? Shigaraki said you have to be my babysitter." A man in a black and grey spandex suit bounds up to you, "I'm Twice! I'd be happy to watch over you! You're pretty badass you know? No I wouldn't, you're a weak ass!"

The second voice catches you completely off guard, quickly collecting yourself, you respond to the man. "You don't have too, I can just sneak out by myself. It's not like I haven't escaped pro's before." Twice frantically waves his hands in front of him, not wanting to give you the wrong idea. "No, no don't listen to the second voice, I really don't mind at all company would be nice. Fuck off."

You couldn't contain your laughter, a smile settling on your usually stoic face. "Okay, okay, what time is it now anyways?" Pulling out your phone you glance at the time, 9:30pm, letting out a sigh of relief you hop off the bar stool. "We can go now, if that's cool with you? I've had a hell of a day and I just want to go home."

Twice nods in understanding, you bid goodbye to everyone with the exception of Dabi. You know it's childish but you could careless at this point, he was being an asshole to you. The both of you exit the bar and begin the twenty minute journey to your apartment.

The majority of the walk was consumed by slightly awkward silence, much to your relief the male beside you decides to speak. "I'm curious about something, how does your quirk work? I saw what you did at the bar, but I didn't catch all of it. I only seen a spark of light break Dabi's glass, which was funny as hell by the way. Who cares? It was way too lame."

Twice sighs in defeat at the contradictory statement, you nudge him gently with your elbow, focusing his attention on the warm smile gracing your visage.

"Don't beat yourself up, it doesn't bother me, and I'll give you the short explanation. Basically, I can absorb electricity from my surroundings, anything that has even the smallest electrical current is drawn to me, once it enters my body it's immediately converted into lightning. I can either shoot it from my body, the way I did at the bar, or I can run it through the ground resulting in a massive attack."

The outline of a small smile peeks through Twice's mask. "That's a hell of a quirk, what are the drawbacks to it? If you don't mind me asking. Tell me bitch!" You chuckle shaking your head slightly, you answer the conflicted man.

"They can be pretty deadly, I'm not immune to my lightning, and because of the intense heat and depending on the amount of electricity I convert, Lichtenberg figures will appear on my body. If I absorb too much electricity, a massive strike of lightning can form. That's when it's dangerous for me, my body will essentially boil from the inside out as the temperature of the lightning increases."

You finally arrive at your apartment building, stepping in you proceed to the elevators, the information seems to have registered in your male counterpart's mind. "What is a Lichtenberg figure and what happens when your body start to boil? She dies you idiot."

The elevator doors open, walking down the hallway you stop at the second to last door on the left, swiftly unlocking it you shove the door open letting Twice in first. "They are branching electrical discharges that have fern-like patterns they disappear after twenty four hours, and you were right, I would die a very painful death."

Twice enters your apartment, making sure to lock the door behind you, wandering into the kitchen you open the fridge pulling out one of the many bottles of beer you stocked up on."Hey Twice, you want a beer?" A few seconds of silence passes until you finally get a response. "Yeah that'd be great thanks! Step on it!"

Popping open both beverages you shuffle into the family room, your eyes fall on Twice's figure sprawled out on the couch, you hand him his drink before going into your room in search for the many pairs of men's hoodies and sweat pants you have bought.

You pull out a black hoodie with sweatpants to match, setting them in the bathroom attached to your room, before joining Twice on the couch and switching on the tv. "I laid out some clothes in the bathroom for you, feel free to take a shower and get comfy."

His eyes widen at your unexpected hospitality, "You didn't have to do that, but thanks. A shower does sound nice right about now, where is your bathroom?" Taking a swig of your drink, you point down the small hallway. "First door on the right, you have to walk through my bedroom to get to it."

Without another word being said, Twice gets to his feet and makes his way to the bathroom, at the sound of the shower running you sink further into the couch. The droning of the tv results in you spacing out, a pit of guilt forms in your stomach, the fight with Endeavor weighing heavily on your conscience.

Innocent people once again, lost their lives all because you lack control over your quirk. They didn't deserve what happened to them, and you knew that, even though you're a villain you don't kill anyone that isn't deserving of it.

You're ripped from your thoughts as the couch dips under Twice's weight, your eyes wander up to his face, he is strangely handsome even with the large scar that adorned his forehead.

His sudden voice startles you, he had caught you staring at him, "Y/n are you okay? You were zoned out there for a minute. She thinks your hot!" You had taken a sip of beer when the second comment was made, causing you to choke at the directness of it, air finally refills your lungs as you stop coughing.

"S-Sorry about that, I wasn't trying to be creepy. I was just thinking about how I know about Shigaraki but I know nothing about anyone else, including you. If I may ask, what's your real name?"

The male smiles and holds a hand out for you to shake, which of course you do. "Jin, and you can ask me anything you want, it's only fair since you've answered all my questions."

"Nice to meet you, Jin."