#anyway electrical tape go fuck yourself

[dippyface]

okay sugru kinda slaps for holding together $80 surface pro cable. that just had some damage to the end plastic from strain and to the cable rubber from me running over the cord with office chair, ofc

it's "glue" that starts out like polymer clay in feel and then cures to silicone rubber in 24 hours

[the-broken-pen]

“You’re going to blow out your arms,” the villain observed. They watched as the hero merely grit their teeth, shoving themself through another pull-up. It looked painful, and if the sweat slicking the hero’s brow was any indication, it was.

They waited for the hero to let themself drop from the bar and accept the villain was stronger. But they didn’t.

Three more pull-ups, and the villain stepped in.

“Hero,” they said slowly. “You’re about to tear the ligaments in your arms. You need to stop.”

The hero blew out a shuddering breath. Struggled for purchase, fighting gravity—and let themself drop.

The hero’s hands were bleeding, calluses torn open by the bar. The hero didn’t seem bothered when their own hands shook so much that their blood began to splatter on the gym floor.

For a moment, the villain could only stare at them.

Shit.

They didn’t know how to handle this. They knew the hero was dedicated. They knew the hero was strong, and perpetually trying to be stronger, but they hadn’t thought…

They hadn’t thought the hero would be so willing to tear apart their own body for success.

It was supposed to be fun, the villain thought. They felt a little sick as the hero pressed their palms together to soothe the bleeding, an action that was practiced and familiar. As if they had done this before.

The hero reached for something in their bag, smearing blood on the side, and pulled out a roll of blue electrical tape. The villain didn’t understand why, until the hero tore a strip off and made to wrap their hands with it.

The hero would be the death of them.

They crouched in front of the hero, plucking the electrical tape out of their hands.

“What are you doing with this?”

The hero blinked at the villain like they were the strange one in this situation.

“Wrapping my hands?”

The villain hissed in a breath.

“With electrical tape?”

The hero flushed slightly, looking down at their bloody hands. They looked close to tears.

“It…sticks to skin, really well. And it doesn’t move, either, when you move your hands or wherever else, even if you’re fighting. Plus, blood doesn’t make it come off, at least, not for a while.”

The villain blinked at them.”

“Blood doesn’t make it come off,” the villain repeated, processing. The hero nodded, reaching for the electrical tape. The villain settled it out of reach.

“Not if you wrap it right.”

Dimly, the villain realized that meant the hero had done this enough times to have it down to a science.

“And you couldn’t use a bandaid?” The villain asked incredulously. The hero shrugged a shoulder, then winced at the motion.

Yeah, the hero had absolutely blown out their arms.

“Bandaids move—“

The villain hushed them.

“Be quiet for a second.”

The hero, wisely, went quiet.

The villain rubbed a hand over their face, then studied the hero for a moment. They took one of the hero’s hands into their own, studying the damage.

“Why did you do this to yourself,” the villain murmured.

“What do you mean, why,” the hero snapped. “It’s my job.”

“Your job is to save people,” the villain corrected. “Not destroy yourself.”

“I’m not destroying myself—“

“You are.”

“Shut up—“

“Hero.”

“I need to be better,” the hero snapped. Their voice rang out across the gym, echoing into the rafters, and they both froze. After a moment, the hero spoke again, voice soft. “I need to be better.”

They said it like they needed the villain to understand. The villain wondered who they were really saying it to—the villain, or themself.

“Better than who?”

“Everyone.” It was hushed, like a secret.

The villain watched them, waiting.

The hero took a shaky breath

“My whole thing is being the best. I have always been the best. That’s the only reason I matter. If I’m not strong enough, then I am nothing, so I need. to be. better.”

The hero had started crying, very quietly, like they were afraid to take up too much space.

The villain was not equipped to handle gifted kid burnout.

“There’s more to you than just being a good athlete,” the villain said hesitantly, and the hero shook their head.

“No. There isn’t.”

“Hero.”

“Can you give me back my electrical tape?” They hiccuped to contain a sob.

“No,” the villain said firmly, and then the hero really was sobbing.

“You don’t understand—“

The villain didn’t. Not really. They had never been the kind of talented that the hero was.

They wondered now if maybe that was a blessing.

“I don’t,” the villain agreed. “But I do understand that you’ve saved half the city, and you give everything you have to give, and you always do your best.”

“But I-“

“No.” The villain stopped them. “You are doing your best.” They tipped the hero’s chin up until they met the villain’s eyes. “And it is enough.”

The hero froze, eyes darting over the villain’s face. They wondered if anyone had ever said that to the hero, if whatever mentor they had was giving them anything other than orders to be stronger. Be better. Be more.

The villain had some new targets to take care of, it would seem.

For now, though, they had to take care of hero.

“We’re going to go wrap your hands,” they said softly. “And then we’re going to take care of your arms, and you’re going to take a nap.”

The hero nodded, watching them like they were some kind of good, selfless person.

“And if I ever catch you using electrical tape again, so help me, I will put you six feet under.”

That startled a laugh out of the hero, and they let the villain guide them to their feet.

“Fine.”

The villain turned to them. “Okay?”

Are you going to be alright?

The hero seemed to understand.

“Okay,” the hero agreed.

Yes.

And so, it was.

[deakyjoe]

Bewitch You In The Moonlight

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x Reader (fem)

Category: idk

Summary: You encounter a likeminded soul during a sleepless night.

Warnings: insomnia, awkward conversations, swearing/cursing, Copia is a nerd, reader is also a nerd, you’re both lonely and find comfort in each other basically

Word count: 4.6k

A/N: Oh, to have a Copia to spend sleepless nights with. This is currently planned to be a series (but works as a standalone for now!) and is just a big excuse for me to write Copia as the nerdy, dorky, sexy, old man that he is. It’s pretty self indulgent but I hope that others can enjoy it too. Title from… an obvious source ;)

Consider buying me a coffee :)

The moonlight was irritating.

Despite being a lover of the night, and the luminous natural satellite that orbited the sky, you couldn't help but find yourself angry at the moon. The fucking moon.

You weren't naturally the easiest person to fall asleep anyway, often finding yourself tossing and turning for hours on end. But since being relocated to a new room, the problem had only gotten worse. The position of your new room meant that the moon shone directly through the window and illuminated your whole bedroom. Even when you closed the curtains, going so far as to tape the edges to the wall at one point, the light still managed to find a way to break through the cracks.

Staring at the silvery gleam reflecting off of the floor, you bit back the tears that were stinging in the back of your eyes and threatening to make your throat close up. You had an early class in the morning, Primo was starting lessons on botany. You were excited, finding something new to study. But you were tired. So tired. And not a wink of sleep was coming to you.

Throwing back the blankets, you swung yourself out of bed and marched over to your bookshelf. Maybe a chapter or two would help you sleep. Scanning the titles, you found that none of them were grabbing you and you held back a scream of frustration. What were you supposed to do?

Pacing around your room for a moment, you thought about what you could do. A late night stroll was the first thing to come to mind. And perhaps to the library. To pick up a new, more attention grabbing book. Maybe one on botany to get a head start on Primo's classes. Yes, that was exactly what you were going to do.

Slipping on a pair of fuzzy socks to keep your feet warm, you reached for your phone. To find that it was dead. Why hadn't you charged it before getting into bed? You sighed and considered what else could be your light source to guide your path. Your eyes drifted towards a candle that someone had gifted you upon your arrival at the abbey. It was meant to be a joke about the building and its grounds looking old and gothic so outsiders assumed it had no electricity. They were very wrong. But the candle was charming. It sat in a brass holder with a handle. Just like something straight out of a Dickens novel.

You sighed before plucking it from its resting place, never having been lit, and rummaged through a drawer to find some matches. Once you'd acquired those, you ignited the candle and tiptoed to your door. You didn't know exactly why you were being quiet. It wasn't against any rules to be out of bed at this time but you also didn't want to wake anyone else in the same dormitory wing as you. You did know the grievances of losing sleep after all.

You padded along the corridor, glad it was a fairly warm night as you hadn't thought to bring an extra layer to cover the garments you'd chosen to sleep in, with your arm extended out in front of you so the candle could light the way. You'd been right in assuming that all lights in the abbey would be off. It was approaching almost two in the morning.

You weaved through the hallways, knowing the blueprints of the place like the back of your hand, and trotted up and down flights of stairs. Another annoying feature of your new room was that it was farther away from the library than the previous one. You were starting to wonder whether you could put a request in to be moved back.

You started humming a low tune to yourself, something you'd heard on the radio a few days prior, to keep yourself company on the long walk. You weren't scared of the empty abbey exactly, knowing there were hundreds of people sound asleep just through all the sets of doors you'd passed, but you couldn't deny that the darkness and silence was a little spooky.

That spookiness only upped itself when you rounded a corner and were met with a bellowing shriek. You jumped back from the noise, or technically the person it emanated from.

"Sathanas!" The figure gasped, followed by a string of mumbled Italian.

You raised your candle slowly to illuminate their face, surprised by who you had come in contact with. "Cardinal?"

"Sì, sì." He mumbled, not looking at you as he pressed a hand to his chest to calm himself down. He was wearing a matching set of pyjamas, buttons up the middle, a deep red shade with a pattern of grey and brown... were those rats? Upon slightly closer inspection you found that they were indeed rats.

"I like your..." You gestured vaguely at your own pyjamas before pointing at his.

The Cardinal looked surprised as he glanced down at his attire. "Oh, my jammies? Thank you."

"You like rats?" You asked, hoping to get him to relax a little as his breathing was still laboured.

"I love rats!" He exclaimed, immediately shushing himself. "Eh, yes, I like rats."

You smiled at him. "What about rats do you love?"

"Lots of things. They are small. They like cheese. They squeak when they are happy. Very nice little creatures, hehe." He chuckled at his own description, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

You nodded at him, liking the simplicity of his answer. "I'm sorry for scaring you, Cardinal."

"Oh no, it is fine." He shook his head at the memory of the way he'd screamed at you. "Not your fault. This place gives me the heebie jeebies at night."

"Yeah, it is a little creepy." You added on, not voicing your question of why on earth he was a Satanic Cardinal if he couldn't even handle the dark... you figured everybody had layers. That's when you noticed he wasn't carrying any sort of light source. "Cardinal, were you walking around in complete darkness?"

"Uh, no." He sighed. "I thought the moonlight would guide me further. But then I got here. And have been stuck for ten minutes. Walking in circles, I think."

"Oh." You coughed to hide a laugh. "Well, where were you headed? I can get you there if you want."

He looked briefly at your candle, recognising it as the initiation gift of the siblings. "The library."

"Me too." You sent him an easy smile, relieved that you wouldn't have to divert your journey at all.

The two of you walked in silence for a few moments, the only sound being the wind outside, as you questioned whether it was okay for you to ask him why he was still awake.

Luckily, he answered that query for you. "So, why are you going to the library so late at night?"

"I could ask you the same." You retorted with a smirk. "Bit of an insomniac."

"Ah, I see." He nodded in understanding. "Me too sometimes."

"Is that why you're awake tonight?" You asked.

"Sì. Sleep just would not come to me." He paused and inhaled deeply. "Forgive me, sorella, but you are going to have to remind me of your name."

You smiled and introduced yourself, not the least bit surprised nor offended he couldn't remember your name. You'd only crossed paths on a few occasions and you were sure the Cardinal met a lot of people every day.

"Ah, I think I remember you from that course on rituals I conducted last year. Correct?"

Your eyebrows shot up in shock. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I took that course."

He hummed. "Mm, you were very eager to learn."

You averted your eyes away from him, embarrassed. "I have a thirst for knowledge, you could say."

"That is a good thing, no?" He wondered and you shrugged. "What other classes have you taken?"

"A few." You replied, not entirely untrue but maybe a little understated since you would take any class you could get your hands on. "I'm starting the botany one tomorrow. Well, today I guess."

"With Primo?" He asked and you nodded. "It will be fascinating, I'm sure."

"I hope so. Even if it's not then he'll be a good teacher. He loves plants." You mumbled, thoughts straying to the gardens that were so meticulously looked after by the retired Papa. "Hey, you should teach a class on rats."

Copia chuckled. "I do not think there would be much interest in that, sorella."

"Maybe a class on small mammal species then?" You offered. "I'm sure there are plenty of amateur zoologists in this place."

He smiled at you. "Would you attend?"

"Only if you promise to do a section on moles." You nodded. "I love those little fuckers."

The Cardinal snorted out a laugh. "Okay, I will take it up with the clergy."

"I look forward to it."

The two of you quickly approached the doors to the library where Copia produced a key from a seemingly invisible pocket to unlock them.

"I didn't even consider it being locked." You whispered, realising that bumping into him had definitely been beneficial.

Copia huffed. "Sì. As much as we encourage sinning, we have some rare editions in here that we do not need siblings to get their hands on in the midst of partying."

"Makes sense." You stepped closer to him to give him more light from the candle to which he thanked you. It was then that you noticed that he was wearing the leather gloves that always adorned his hands during the daytime. Strange that he would also wear them at night. But you weren't going to judge him for it, or even comment on it. "Cardinal-"

"Copia, per favore." He corrected, not taking his eyes off where he was struggling to get the library doors unlocked.

"Copia-" You rolled the name around on your tongue, liking the way it tasted. "-is it okay for me to be in the library at this hour?"

"Of course, sorella-"

You cut him off with your own name to which he glanced at you with a smile.

"I give you full permission. It is the least I can do since you rescued me from the darkness, eh?"

"I suppose." You muttered. "I just don't want you to get in trouble for letting a sister wreak havoc on the library in the middle of the night."

He stood up, as if he were giving up on unlocking the door, and gave you a mirthful look. "What exactly are you planning on doing with these books?"

You relented with a slump of your shoulders. "Read them."

He shrugged. "See? No havoc. Just reading."

"Would you like me to try?" You offered out your hand, palm up, to take the key from him.

"Ah! Sì, sì!" He sounded grateful that he didn't even have to ask you, handing the key over in exchange for the candle.

You shuffled past him and bent down, sliding the key into the lock and turning it until it clicked. "There we go."

"Thank you. Sometimes my gloves make it difficult." He sighed as you pushed the door open.

You smiled, curious as to what the deal with the gloves was. Maybe he had an issue with dirt. You decided to just be lighthearted about it. "The price of fashion. Beauty is pain they say."

He looked momentarily surprised by that statement, a pool of red rushing to his cheeks. Or maybe it was a trick of the light. "Uh, yes. They do say."

You bit back a grin at the prospect of making him flustered, he really was a sweet man, and tilted your head in the direction of the library. "Lead the way, Cardinal."

"Copia." He groaned but walked into the library first anyway, candle held out in front of him. "What book were you looking for, sorella?"

You followed him, noting that he'd gone back to calling you sister in response and closed the door behind the two of you. "Initially I was going to read up on some botany. But now I've got the urge to read about rodents."

He perked up and turned quickly to face you again, candle tilting dangerously in the holder at his rapid movement. "I can recommend some books on rodents."

You reached out to steady the candle before it dripped molten wax all over the floor, fingertips brushing against leather as you pulled away. "That sounds lovely, Copia."

He grinned at you and turned away again, walking more eagerly towards the stacks. You rushed to keep up as he started murmuring something about which book would be best for beginners, colliding with his back as he suddenly stopped.

"Sorry." You grunted, rubbing your forehead as you stumbled backwards.

The candle was abandoned on an empty shelf, safely out of the way of any books, and his gloved hands were hovering over you before you even had the chance to blink.

"No, I am sorry. I shouldn't have just stopped. I am an idiot, sì? Please forgive me. Are you okay?" He rambled, eyes wide with panic.

"Yeah, I'm okay." You laughed. "You were just wrapped up in the moment thinking about rats. I get it."

Copia's face dropped in embarrassment. "It is a problem."

"No, I think it's nice that you're so passionate. I get like that when I have something new to learn about." You sent him a reassuring smile. "Besides, you were thinking about books to recommend to me. If anything, it's my fault."

He was stood so close, barely a couple of inches away, that it gave you an opportunity to take him in. Like, really take him in. You'd never been in such close contact before. He sat at the front during mass, you had to sit with the rest of the siblings further back. Any time he conducted anything he would be stood at the head of the room, obviously, and you'd be one of the audience. It felt strange being so near to him.

You knew his eyes were mismatched, it was the gossip of the century when he'd first come to the abbey since nobody had failed to realise how it was similar to the mismatching eyes of the Emeritus line, but you'd never noticed that the darker eye was a gorgeous shade of green before. He also had smile lines, both around his mouth and crinkling the edges of his beautiful eyes. The greys in his hair, which you had always taken notice of, now only stood out more in the flickering candlelight. And where his mouth was hanging slightly open in concern you could see that his bottom row of teeth were crooked.

Realising that you were staring at his mouth, you looked away from him, to somewhere over his shoulder, before you said something you'd regret.

"Don't blame yourself." He said lowly, grabbing the candle off the shelf again as he tilted his head backwards. "Come. The good books on rodents are this way."

You nodded silently and just started following him again. His pace was slower this time, careful not to rush or cause another crash with you. After another minute or so of walking, he rounded a corner and stopped.

"I had the librarian rearrange the stacks so the books about rats were put here instead." He explained as you took in the little nook you'd never seen before.

It was hidden towards the back of the library, dark, with a single small window to provide some evidence of outside life. There sat a set of comfortable looking chairs and a coffee table. It was cosy looking. However, there was no discernible light source. No lamp, no overhead light, nothing with electricity.

"It's nice." You croaked, imagining Copia hidden away here for hours on end. Nothing to keep him company apart from a good book. "I can see why you had the librarian rearrange."

He sent you a small smile before walking over to a couple of sconces on the wall. You squinted and noticed that they held candles. The tug in your chest was unmistakable. You knew Copia didn't have many, if any, friends so the idea that he'd brought you here was flattering.

The hem of his pyjama shirt lifted as he lit the first candle, exposing a stretch of his abdomen. You looked away out of respect. But the glimpse of soft tummy and dark hair had your eyes straying back towards him again. Once you'd locked on to his happy trail, hair trailing both below his waistline and up into what you assumed to blossom into a good amount of chest hair, you couldn't pull away again.

You felt butterflies in your lower stomach, your mouth almost salivating at the sight. It was then you decided to do some research on insomnia to see if the lack of sleep could cause delirium that made your libido skyrocket. Because suddenly wanting to lick your Cardinal's stomach probably wasn't normal behaviour. Although sinning was encouraged...

You were snapped out of your thoughts by Copia giving a small cheer as he managed to light one of the candles. Watching with a new sense of fondness for the man as he attempted to the light the second candle, you decided that you were adamant on becoming his friend. The both of you could probably use a friend. You were making assumptions about him but you could recognise loneliness from a mile away. He was slightly too keen to share his favourite books with you, a little too cautious when it came to potentially doing something wrong, a tad happier than the average person would be when exchanging first names.

Once the other candle was lit, he grinned at you so brightly that the corners of his eyes crinkled. You returned the grin.

"Please take a seat. I will find you a book." He waved his hands at the two armchairs before rushing over to the shelves.

You watched him scanning the spines of the books, choosing to sit on the less worn of the two chairs as you figured that the more tattered one was his favourite. You struggled to avert your eyes when he bent over and you were met with the perfect view of his ass, forcing yourself to be respectful and not indulge in your newfound attraction to him. Just friends, you reminded yourself. You were going to be just friends.

Soon enough he was letting out a little noise of delight and practically skipping back over to you where he collapsed into the spare armchair and handed you the book.

"I believe this one has a chapter on rats and a chapter on moles. As you love those little fuckers so much." He repeated your words from earlier back to you with a proud tone in his voice.

"Thank you." You said sincerely, flipping the book open to the contents page. "I trust your recommendations. I read those books you told us about at the end of the ritual course last year."

His eyes widened. "Really?"

"Mhm, although I think you were the only person who had ever borrowed them before me." You shrugged. "They were good, very informative."

He swallowed thickly, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "You weren't kidding about your thirst for knowledge, hehe."

You glanced up at him, fingers flicking through the pages of the book on your lap. "It's sort of my motivation in life. Learning as much as possible."

His brows pinched together momentarily. "That is a nice motivation to have."

You smiled, being able to tell that there was more he wanted to say. "But?"

He shook his head with a huff. "How could you tell there was a but?"

"I just know these things."

He huffed again. "But... what of other things?"

You frowned. "Such as? Satan? I am a dedicated sibling of sin, y’know?"

"No, no. I know that, I didn't mean to imply that-" He cut himself off with a sigh. "What about friends?"

Your mouth turned downwards, eyes returning to the book. "I could ask you the same thing."

"Ouch. But I deserved that." He winced. "My apologies. I only wish for all siblings to be happy here."

"I am happy here." You snapped, regretting your tone almost immediately. There was a brief moment of silence where you wished you could take it back.

"Take it from me, I know how lonely a life here can be. Surrounded by so many people yet not really having anyone." He confessed, face falling into a vague sort of sadness.

You didn't know why he was opening up to you. And it wasn't anything you hadn't already deduced about him. But you could see so much of yourself in him that you couldn't understand why you were lashing out when you had been the one telling yourself you wanted to be friends with him in the first place.

"We could be friends." You offered.

He shook his head, taking the offer the wrong way. "Do not say that just because you feel pity for this old Cardinal."

"Aren't you younger than the average upper clergyman?"

"Well, yes. But..." He trailed off. "Still old."

"And I would like to be friends with you."

Copia stared at you for a few seconds, probably trying to figure out if you were being sincere. When you didn't break the eye contact, he realised you were. "Okay..."

You rolled your eyes. "You sound so enthusiastic about the idea."

"Sorry. I mean... okey dokey!" He sent you a double thumbs up and the dorkiest smile you'd ever seen. You couldn't hold back the giggle that rumbled out of your chest at the sight. Copia held the pose for a moment, the smile spreading at your reaction, before he stood from his chair again. "I will get a book of my own and then we can read together. Like friends do, sì?"

You nodded enthusiastically. "Okey dokey."

He chuckled at your repetition of his words before shuffling off with a low groan, muttering something about the pain in his knees, and squatting in front of the stacks. For a man who claimed to be old and had aching joints, he seemed to have no trouble getting down so low. You watched him over the top of your book as he did a little side step crab walk thing to see what titles he hadn't read yet, eyes darting back towards the page when he grabbed a volume and returned to sit next to you.

"What did you choose?"

"A Beginner's Guide to Small Mammals." He read out the cover to you. "Research for that class you're getting me to teach."

You nodded slowly. "Very wise choice."

The two of you descended into peaceful, comfortable silence, the turning of pages breaking the quiet every so often. Copia zoomed through the book he'd chosen, clearly knowing a lot of it already, but you took your time, making sure to take in every single word carefully. You found yourself appreciating rats a little more after you'd finished that chapter and loving moles more than you already did by the time you were halfway through their chapter.

You glanced up to take a look at your reading companion every couple pages or so, enjoying the crease that would appear between his brows every time he came across something he found interesting. A couple of times the two of you made accidental eye contact when you'd go to look at him to find him already looking at you, the two of you smiling awkwardly before looking away again. That, thankfully, didn't ruin the atmosphere however.

Neither of you realised how much time had passed until sunlight had replaced the moonlight shining through the small window despite Copia having almost finished the book he'd chosen and you getting halfway through yours after returning to the beginning once you'd read the two chapters he'd told you about.

"It must be about five in the morning." You commented, that opinion based on the way the rays of sun were positioned. You'd seen a lot of sunrises during your sleepless nights.

"Oh." Copia replied, lowering his book to the coffee table. "What time is Primo's class?"

"Eight." You replied with a sigh, resting your head against the back of your chair and closing your eyes. Despite hours of reading, you still didn't feel like you were close to being able to sleep.

"There is still time for a couple hours of rest."

You shook your head as you opened your eyes again. "I still won't be able to. It's fine. I can survive on no sleep for a day or two."

His eyes widened at the prospect of not sleeping for two nights in a row. "That does not sound healthy."

You laughed. "Probably not. But I get by."

"I'm sorry if I made it worse by keeping you here, I didn't mean-"

You cut him off. "No, not at all. Um, I usually spend sleepless nights pacing around my room and making myself stressed. So this has been a nice change. Thank you for allowing me to read with you. And letting me into the library."

His face softened. "Of course. It's what friends do."

Warmth bloomed in your chest and all you could do was send him a smile that you hoped conveyed how grateful you were. After that the two of you quietly replaced the books you had been reading before extinguishing the sconces and leaving the library. With the sunlight now illuminating the abbey there was no need for your candle anymore so you blew that out as well and held it lower down in front of you, clasped tightly between both of your hands. You handed it to Copia briefly as you locked the library doors for him.

You walked silently for a while, wondering what to say to him now that the tranquil feeling of the library had been left behind. What if books were the key to your conversations with him?

Copia broke the silence. "Did you like the book?"

"Yes, I did. Thank you for recommending it." You said, sincerely, and he only shrugged. "How was yours?"

"I have read better." He confessed. "But not terrible."

It went quiet again and the two of you said nothing until you reached the hallway you'd bumped into him in only a few hours ago.

"I, uh, I go this way now." He pointed down a different entryway than the one you needed to go down.

"Oh, okay." You frowned to yourself before looking at him again. "I had a nice night, Copia. Really. Thank you."

"I should thank you. For keeping this old man company." The leather of his gloves creaked as his fists clenched at his sides.

"It's what friends do." You replied before glancing over your shoulder towards a window, the sun was rising even higher. "I should go."

"Sì, sì." He agreed, glancing down at his slipper-clad feet. "I hope you enjoy Primo's class."

"Thank you. I hope you enjoy... being a Cardinal." Your face scrunched at your own words, how hadn't you asked what he was doing the next morning?

He just laughed. "Grazie."

"See you around then." You didn't want to say goodnight, since it wasn't night, and you didn't want to say good morning, as that seemed idiotic. But see you around then? You needed to work on your social skills if this whole friend thing was going to work out.

Copia nodded. "See you around."

And then the two of you went your separate ways. With you wondering whether you should even bother trying to get a nap in before getting ready for botany with Primo, and Copia secretly watching you walk away over his shoulder wondering when his luck had started to change.

A/N: This has been sitting complete in my drafts for a hot minute because I told myself I’d write at least another 2 chapters of it before posting but then I realised it works perfectly fine by itself so I just decided to post it. Hope you enjoyed!

[pigeonwhumps]

Surgery

Sam and Lucan masterlist

Whumptober masterlist

Day 25: SILENCE IS GOLDEN | lost voice | duct tape | "you better start talking"

Taglist: @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @onlybadendings @whumpofdory @haro-whumps

Lucan loses his voice.

Set a few weeks after Lucan's auction (and the last pre-Sam piece for now before we head back to Sam and Lucan in the present and Lucan's recovery arc – I know I've written a lot of Lucan pre-Sam during this Whumptober!)

1.5k

CWs: non-con surgery, non-con body modification, shock collar, electric shock, dehumanisation, 'it' as a pronoun for dehumanising, non-human whumpee (faerie), multiple whumpers, slavery setting, threats of caning, broken bones and poisoning

Lucan awakes to a blaring alarm.

The handlers have started doing that recently. Setting off alarms at random times of the day and night (entirely random times, since Lucan’s cell doesn’t have any windows), and expecting him to be alert and ready to do whatever pointless tasks he’s ordered to complete when they enter the cell. Sometimes he obeys, sometimes he doesn’t – it depends, mostly, on how scared he is. And how much pain he’s in already.

He knows they’re trying to ‘train’ him for going to Caroline Jones. And it terrifies him, because he can’t see a way out. Even if he were to escape this place, even if he somehow managed to get rid of his bracelet and microchip, what would he do? He’d still have no legal identity, they deleted that when he was taken.

Not that there seems to be a way out of this place anyway.

Lucan really can’t summon up the energy to fight today, and he scrambles out of the cage he’s forced to sleep in, slipping onto his knees, hands in front of him, head bowed, facing the door of his cell, just in time for the electronic lock to click open and admit two handlers. At least he has clothes now, blue Swift House-branded overalls with his number emblazoned on the front in white. They’re scratchy and thin but it’s better than nothing.

“Very good. On your feet, 12735.” Lucan climbs to his feet, hands behind his back. “Now against the wall, facing me, hands by your side.” Lucan obeys, keeping his eyes on the floor, and he hears something big being wheeled into the cell. “You’re doing good today. Get back here and climb on the table.”

Lucan fights the shiver of pleasure his body desperately wants from the praise and looks up. The table. He has to know what that means, and–

Oh, god.

There’s a metal gurney with leather straps standing in the doorway. The kind they use in hospitals sometimes, although less comfortable. His uncle was right, wasn’t he, about the illegal operations. It’s not really a surprise but Lucan didn’t think about it much. He didn’t want to, since the allegations are likely what made his uncle disappear, but... they really are true. Oh, fuck.

“No. I’m not coming with you!” He tries to back away but he’s already against the wall, and he moves sideways, kicking out as the handlers near.

An excruciating jolt of pain shoots through him and his legs crumple, a scream ripped from him before he blacks out.

_

When Lucan comes to, he’s strapped to the metal table and being wheeled down the corridor. Everything feels like jelly but he still makes a weak attempt to escape. One of the handlers chuckles.

“Keep going like that, you’ll tire yourself out before you’re sedated.”

Lucan carries on struggling. “What are you going to do to me?”

“Shut–”

“No, let it speak. It’s allowed last words, after all.”

“Last words?” yells Lucan, panic rising. “What are you going to do to me?”

“That would be telling.” The handler grins as he pushes Lucan through the door into... oh, god, it’s an operating theatre. “Where d’you want it, Doc?”

“Just over there, in the preparation room. And remove its clothes!”

“Much as I hate to admit it, you’ll have to sedate it first. It’s a struggler.”

The surgeon heaves a sigh that just makes Lucan try harder to escape. “Fine. Bring it over here. You, hold his arm down while I insert the IV.”

“Yes, sir.” A young woman places both hands on his arm to hold it still and he doesn’t think, he just bites. She yelps and withdraws, but before Lucan can even blink something’s shoved into his mouth.

“You’ll pay for that behaviour later,” snarls the handler as he ties the gag. “You’re lucky you’ve been bought or you’d be downstairs before you could say ‘mistress’. Hopefully this surgery will mellow you out a bit though.”

And although Lucan continues to struggle as much as he can, before he really registers it the IV’s inserted and everything disappears.

_

When Lucan wakes he’s cold. He’s definitely dressed, he can feel the scratchy fabric, but... he’s still cold. And his throat hurts. He touches it gingerly.

He actually touches the scarred band of skin. He’s not wearing a shock collar.

That jolts his eyes open.

He’s tied to a bed in a small white room, nearly unrestrained. There’s a woman sorting something out in the corner and she must hear him move, because she turns.

“You’re awake! That was quick.” She picks up a cup of water and brings it over, and Lucan spots the yellow bracelet below the bandage. “Here. Drink this, slowly.”

Lucan sips at it, wondering what happened to her, and she says quietly, “You bit me earlier, before the surgery. It’s okay, I don’t blame you.” Lucan opens his mouth to apologise anyway but nothing comes out. What the hell? What did they do to him? The woman looks at him sadly. “I’m so sorry.” Lucan frowns exaggeratedly and then gestures to himself, heart pounding. She looks around nervously, then mutters, “He removed your vocal cords. I’m not allowed to say more, I’m sorry.”

Lucan has to replay the words in his brain before he can really understand what she’s saying. He doesn’t have any vocal cords? He can’t make a sound now? His defiance to the handlers earlier was the last he’d ever speak?

No. No, it can’t be. It... no. He’s already had his freedom and life taken away, they can’t take his voice too.

A handler enters the room and smiles at the panic on Lucan’s face. “You told it then. Very good.” Lucan opens his mouth instinctively to protest again but nothing comes out. Of course it doesn’t. The handler laughs. “And I see the operation was a success. You’ll be much easier to handle now, won’t you?” The man reaches out a hand to touch Lucan’s hair, and he snarls silently, snapping at him. Just because he has no voice doesn’t mean he can’t bite. “No. You know, I’m not above muzzling you just because you can’t talk. I’d keep that in mind.”

Lucan snaps his mouth shut. Being muzzled is the worst form of punishment, it’s humiliating and he’s not a dog. He doesn’t want that on top of what’s just happened. The handler smirks.

“Very good. You know, I can see why Caroline paid for us to do this. She wants you to obey and look pretty, and you’ll certainly do that now. Personally, I prefer my slaves to make noises when they’re punished, but each to their own. Silence is probably a good thing in your case, anyway. Can’t protest if you can’t talk.” The handler winks, and Lucan grits his teeth as the handler touches his hair. It’s an intimately personal part of him, sacred really, and the handlers here know that, playing with it whenever they can now it’s starting to grow back. Lucan hates it every time. Usually it’s enough to make him protest, but... now he can’t speak, now he’s been promised a muzzle if he snarls... not today, he won’t. “Your new Mistress doesn’t want you to walk, either, but you’re lucky. She doesn’t want that done surgically, she wants you still capable of it physically. And since the surgery was only on your throat, you’re well recovered enough to start that training. So. When I untie you, you’re going to get on your hands and knees and follow me. Nod if you understand.” Lucan nods, and the handler unties him.

Lucan doesn’t move. If this is the last protest he has left, staying still when he should be obeying, he’ll do it.

The handler sighs. “I have a long list of infractions to punish you for already, 12735, don’t add to it.” When Lucan still doesn’t move, he adds, “If you don’t obey, I’ll punish this one.” The young woman takes a step back, clearly frightened, and Lucan forces himself out of bed and onto his knees – despite the fear and dread curdling in his stomach, he doesn’t want her punished in his stead. “Finally. Now follow me. And you had better get used to that position. If you ever get to your feet without orders, I’ll cane your hands and feet until they’re bloody, break both your kneecaps, and force you to crawl like that. And then we’ll see what iron we have in storage. You know what it feels like to consume that.” And he does. He really does. It’s so painful. The handler’s threats are too much, he’s not sure he could stand them, and Caroline Jones is more terrifying than all of them. What sort of a person is she if she’ll casually pay to alter Lucan permanently, like he’s nothing, just a toy for her whims? “First rule, now that you can’t speak, is to bow when you’d normally say, ‘yes, sir’.” Lucan does – much to his own chagrin, he’s too scared to disobey again – and he can feel the handler smile as he ruffles Lucan’s hair. “Good boy.”

[lovrre]

My vampire boy~ Pt2

Eddie x fem reader

Warnings: just smut and a little cursing

Author note: sorry this took 10 years, I was being lazy

Word count: 1,476

Summary: you and Eddie have been hiding out in your cabin since he woke from the dead. How long before Eddie needs to eat, or worse the rest of the gang comes snooping?

~~~~

Ever since Eddie woke up from the dead, we’ve done nothing but sleep and fuck. It’s been a whole day and you just can’t find a reason to leave the cabin. Well except for food. Eddie won’t say it but you know he’s hungry. He’s becoming a lot weaker and less energetic ever since he first came back. You’ve tried to give him some old noodles you got in the cabinet but it seemed to make him worse.

Eddie is laying on your chest while you’re playing with his cold hand. Your stomach growls and Eddie looks up towards you. “You should eat something,” he says interlocking his hand with yours.

“I’m not hungry.” You reply quickly. “I can hear your stomach growling,” Eddie says sitting up on the couch. “You don’t have to pretend not to be hungry for me. I can control it,” he says smiling weakly. “I wish I could help. Is it like the movies, Is it blood that you want?” You say sitting up as well. “I think so, It’s like I'm really really hungry and I just know if I were to taste you, I wouldn't be hungry anymore.”

His words give you butterflies even though they probably shouldn’t. “Maybe you should.” You suggest. “No.” He replies shaking his head. “Is there anyway I can give you some without…you know…”

“-dying? I really don’t know and I’m not gonna risk it,” he says a little coldly. “But what if I wanted to, would you consider it then?” You say ghosting your fingers over his skin.

“Temping offer,” Eddie says moving closer. You can feel his shallow breath on your neck. He presses down almost as if he’s going to bite you. You prepare yourself for the pain but instead, he leaves a kiss on your neck. “But we don’t know enough,” he says pushing away from you. You grab him back, pulling him against your lips and straddling him.

“I’m done playing, you need to eat.” You demand, angling your neck towards his mouth. “No I-“ Before he can answer, you grab his face with your hands forcing him to look at you. “Do it.” Eddie sighs, laying his head against yours. “I’ve been trying so hard to control myself… You’re making it really hard right now Y/N.”

“I trust you,” before you can say anything else, Eddie’s digging in his pocket. He takes out a pocket knife, opens it, and hands it to you.

“If I don’t stop, you stab my ass.” He grabs your hand with the knife in it and guides you towards his neck. “Right here,” he says taping the knife on the side of his neck. “IM NOT STABBING YOU!” You yell in disbelief.

“if I’m killing you, you will.” You stay silent “Promise you will?” He says sternly, hands tightening on yours. “I will, I promise.” In reality you know you wouldn’t but anything to get him to eat.

“I think it would be better if I tried your wrist first.” You get off his lap and turn to face him, foreheads nearly touching. “Can I?” Eddie asks gesturing to your arm. You responded with a small nod. Eddie gently grabs your arm, ducking his head to meet your skin. His fangs appear and you close your eyes. You feel a sharp pain and jerk back. Eddie grabs your arm tighter steadying you.

As the pain went away, it was quickly replaced with electricity almost like adrenaline. You can feel it rushing through your body all the way down to your fingertips. The feeling is almost euphoric and you let out a moan that was a little too loud. Eddie growls and grabs your arm tighter. You watch in awe as Eddie engulfs you. Suddenly, your wrist began to sting. “EDDIE I THINK THAT'S ENOUGH!” You yell trying to pull your arm back but his grip tightens securing you to that spot.

“EDDIE LET GO!” You scream but He doesn’t budge. Your grip tightens on the knife in your right hand. Before you can do anything rash, Eddie drops your arm and

connects his lips to yours, pushing you back onto the couch. “Hmm,” the taste of blood invades your kiss as he opens his mouth.

“Did you feel that?” Eddie says smiling down at you, full of energy. “Feel what?” You ask confused at his behavior. “When I bit you, that electricity?” “Yeah it was like a shock-“

“I need you so bad right now, worse than before”.

“O-oh..”

Before you can respond to anything he’s saying properly, he's throwing off his shirt. You take a moment to admire his happy trail. Eddie wipes any extra blood off his mouth with his forearm before his lips are back on yours.

This kiss is a little slower, one of his hands moving up to cup your face. “You want this?” He asks his dark lust filled eyes hypnotizing you. “Yes,” that’s all he needs to hear. In seconds, he’s working at his belt. You do the same, shimmying your pants off from underneath him. With one quick pull, Eddie yanks your pants off. He ducks down to you, continuing your kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck and bring him closer to you. His hips buck into yours looking for friction. ”God, I need you so fucking bad.”

With that, Eddie looks down between you two and pulls out his dick. Holding your panties to the side with one hand and lining himself up with the other. Eddie sinks himself into you and you instantly muffle your moans in the crook of his neck. “Fuck, you basically sucked me in.” After a couple of slow thrusts, Eddie quickened the pace. Eddie Pushes back on your thigh so he could have easier access. “Oh god, please don’t stop,” you pant out “You take me so fucking well,” Eddie says, thrusting into you deeper than before.

Eddie’s head drops to the crook of your neck where he stays for a second before you feel a familiar sharp pain. It’s quickly followed by the same almost ecstasy-like feeling as earlier. Everything instantly becomes enhanced and your body feels hotter than before. Eddie’s relentless thrusts throw you over the edge. “EDDIE, ITS TOO MUCH! I CAN'T TAKE ANYMORE!” Eddie's face emerges from your neck.

His face is covered in blood and he has a big smirk on his face. “Cum for me baby,” his tone is demanding and you can’t help but oblige. Your body spasms against him and he continues slamming into your sensitive cunt.

“You squeeze me so fucking tight y/n” Eddie huffs out between thrusts. “Shit I’m cumming,”

You sit up slightly. “Fill me,” you moan inches away from his ear and that’s all it took. Eddie cums loud letting out a stream of cuss words in the process. “SHIT Y/N!”

Collapsing next to you, he watches your chest rise and fall as you breathe. Everything is calm for a second before Eddie jumps up and zips towards the front door. “EDDIE WHERE ARE YOU GOING?”

“I hear someone,” he says looking out the window. You sit up running to follow him. Just as you reach him, you hear voices from outside. When you peek out the window next to the door, you see Dustin, Steve, Mike, and Lucas.

“SHIT, I didn't tell them!” You say covering Eddie's mouth. “Don’t say a word,” you mouth putting a finger to your lips.

“It should be over here.” You hear Dustin say leading the rest of the group to where Eddie was buried out of view.”

~~~

“Umm…we didn’t leave it like this did we?” Steve says bending over to see inside the disheveled empty grave. “WHERE IS EDDIE?!” Dustin says looking down in the empty grave. “Who goes around digging up graves?” Lucas says in confusion.

“Shit shit shit,” Dustin repeats kicking dirt up with his shoe. Steve cuts his thought short.

“Do you think it could have been-“

A loud thump from inside the cabin interrupts Steve. “What was that?” He says turning his head to face the cabin. Everyone does the same, slowly creeping towards the door.

~~~

Eddie had accidentally tripped causing both of you to fall down. Hand still over his mouth, you watch as the other cabin door knob turns almost in slow motion. Dustin and the rest of the gang bust through the back door to find you and Eddie in a compromising position.

“WHAT THE HELL!?” Steve screams looking down at you two. You and Eddie scramble up. “Does this count as necrophilia?” Mike asks from behind the group. Lucas says nothing, silently side-eyeing him in disgust. Dustin is completely silent watching in disbelief as you give the group a small wave. “I can explain,” you say giving a weak smile.

[levi-my-beloved]

the way I’m still thinking about this 😪😪 help

SAR PLS I WAS JUST GETTING OUT OF THAT RUT but thanks to THIS FIC by @anlian-aishang i have such a fixation on vibrators now like hhhhhhhhhhhhhhh HELP ME

tw: bondage, edging, anal, toys, male receiving, gags, mommy kink, overstimulation

Poor baby's tied down to the bed, crimson fibres restraining both his arms and legs, his ankles dangling freely in the air. His hard cock already leaking, the exposure, the vulnerability in this position has his brain in a soft fuzz. You made a mistake by taping his mouth last time, so this time you opt for a ball gag. Plenty of room to hear all his wanton screams, with the added bonus of being able to watch him drool all over himself.

You first touch was electric. You hadn't done so much as ghost past his skin since you tied him up and left him waiting. And from the position he's in, Levi can do nothing but stare at the ceiling in heated anticipation. His brows pinch instantly, a soft whimper pulled from his lungs by the gentle caress of you hand on his thigh. A stark contrast to the harsh, cracking slap you proceeded to leave across his ass cheek, the stinging mark making his cock jump and pulse with need. Another slap, another pulse, a sharp gasp. Slap, pulse, whine. Slap, pulse, mewl, until his thighs were shaking and his head was rolling against the pillow.

"Good boy Levi. You're my good boy. My pretty boy. Look at you, leaking all over yourself, such a messy pup." you cooed, running your middle finger up the prominent vein of his cock, gathering his slick before smearing it across his tip, watching as his hips tried to thrust into the minimal touch, wanting, needing more. "Shall we get started?" you asked, moving up slightly to swirl his own pre-come over his already hardened nipples, grinning at the way his bound hands curled into fists, his toes flexing as you teased.

"'eashe..." god you loved it when he begged like that. When he knew you could barely understand what he was saying, but he was getting desperate enough to try anyway. He looked at you through heavy lidded eyes, glistening with unshed tears of need. Fuck, all you'd done is tease and spank him and he was already on the precipice.

Sliding back down, you retrieved a ridged silicone cock-sleeve, paired with a string of black anal beads and your own vibrating wand. You remembered Levi saying something about not being too experienced with vibrators, and you didn't know how the fuck you didn't think about using them until now. You had the toys already, they'd just escaped your usage. But you were most certainly going to have some fun with them now. Not that your poor needy baby had any idea what you had in store.

Slathering the inside of the sleeve with cool, water based lube, you could already hear his desperate whines, the pads of your fingers detecting every bump, every ridged surface within the little toy. But that wasn't even the best part. Everything you'd prepared today, vibrated. And you couldn't wait to orchestrate a symphony.

"You're not allowed to cum." it was a simply command that brought so much dread. Levi's thundering heart sank, even as his head bowed back upon feeling your first indulgence slip over the leaking tip of his cock and engulf his shaft. You squeezed and massaged, knowing those ridged surfaces were providing enough stimulation to, if you kept your movements up, bring him to the edge and throw him off completely. A sudden urge to hear every foul word he would inevitably spew came over you. Reaching over his bound form, you unclipped the gag from around his head, smirking at the confusion in his eyes, before your hand circled his pulsing tip, and those eyes silver eyes rolled back into his skull.

"H'ahaah, a'haah, fuh...fuck!" removing the gag was a good choice, feeling heat pool at the apex of you thighs, a result of his lack of vocal restraint. Oh you were going to ruin him.

"That's it, good boy Levi." you praised, slithering back down his body to the second little toy you'd prepared. Releasing your grip on the sleeve, you noticed how he released a breath along with it. "Breathe, in and out, look at you, such an obedient boy," deft fingertips pinched the largest bead the the base, these too you slathered in copious amounts of lube. Taking your slick fingers, you slowly massaged the ring of muscle, watching him clench around nothing, pleading for more. And since he asked so nicely...

"Shit! Nn'nghah, f'fuck you can't– ha'ah, you... pl'please!" you watched with sick satisfaction as he squirmed beneath you, your middle fingers reaching further and further into his tight little hole, before you were two knuckles deep. All you need to do now was...

You knew you were successful when Levi threw his head back, a desperate moan ripped from his disobedient throat as you curled your finger up against his prostate over and over again, dropping the string of beads with your other hand to take his sleeved cock in your palm, massaging and squeezing like you did before. You were almost tempted to let him cum like this, watch him spill all over himself, but you had more to show him.

"Fuck fuck fuck! M'mommy, fu'ahaah, ha'aah, 'm gonna– fuck! 'M gonna c'cum!" you kept up both movements until you saw his abs contract, his back arch as much as he could in the restraints. And that was when you pulled off and out of him, swatting a harsh slap to the inside of his thigh, pulling a frustrated mewl from the desperate man, his flushed cock slapping against his other thigh as you did.

"No." was all you said, before you sat back on your heels, drinking in his already fucked out state. "Breathe in for me darling." you instructed him, and despite his already frantic gasps for breath, he did as you asked just as you pushed the first little orb beyond his hole, then the second slightly bigger, then the third just a bit bigger than that. Here you paused, listening to that symphony you'd been composing, the room beating along with his exhaled pleasure, every pant came with a cracked whimper. The largest still pinched in your fingers, you twisted, watching his expression twist along with your hand. This was just the right place for the smallest bead to press perfectly against that little spot inside that sent his hips bucking uncontrollably.

You pushed again, sinking a fourth into his tight hole and pressing the second up against the spark. A sharp inhale from the ravenette, sweat slicking down his dark bangs, eyes screwed shut as you twisted once again, pulling moan after groan from his lungs. Levi's jaw hung open, the gateway wide for every pathetically desperate sound he made. You wanted to keep up the torture. Wanted to keep pulling him to the edge, only to stop him just at the cliff. But you also wanted him to feel how you felt when you used those vibrations to their fullest. If he wasn't so dripping with his own juices and the lube you'd used, you wouldn't have been able to thrust the final two beads in the way you did, mercilessly and without much effort.

"FUCK! Mm'ahaah, fuck... sh'shit...! Mommy... Shit... 's so good, please... ' feels so good...! Please, 'need more! Wanna cum, please!" You watched in awe as a tear slipped from his eye, sliding down the side of his cheek. You were always so calm and collected until he starts crying. Desperate need spilling over his cheeks as he sobbed a gasp of ecstasy just as you leant forward to drip a globule of your spit over the tip of his flushed cock. You left him like that for a moment, debating how to introduce him to the newest sensation in your arsenal. Turn them on all together? Or opt for one at a time? The button remotes sat in front of you. Black for the beads, white for the sleeve, and of course, your wand.

You took both remotes in both you hands, thumbs ready on the buttons as your heart bounced with anticipation. Your right thumb pressed down on the black remote. Levi's reaction was instant. A sharp, heated cry flew from his lips, his back bowing into a beautiful arch as the vibrations instantly stimulated his prostate like nothing you'd ever done before. He loved your strap, he loved your fingers, but this... this was on a whole other level.

He could form no words, only incoherent cries for more, his hips thrusting as much as they could in their bindings. You pressed your little magic thumb down a few more times, bringing the level up to five and watching as his head flew back, chin pointed to the ceiling, completely lost in his pleasure. So why not give him some more?

The button in your left hand lit up as you pressed it five times, bringing the cock-sleeve whirring to life. You saw his eyes fly wide open, his arms shaking against the restraints as he thrashed, thighs vibrating along with the toys. His throat closed for a moment, unable to quite articulate this new wave of euphoria, until an intake of breath followed by a low, broken scream. Levi couldn't think straight. He couldn't think at all. All he could do was feel, and concentrate on not cumming... as difficult as you were making it.

The wand simply added fuel to the flames, flicking it on and spending hours trying to balance it on the tip of his pulsing cock, watching as his hips bucked uncontrollably if you left it there for more than a few moments. You played with levels, with patterns, with intensities, until Levi didn't think he would ever be able to think again. Despite your previous command, he screamed through one of the hardest orgasms he's had in a very, very long time, cumming his brains out when you started to circle his head with the buzzing wand.

His punishment? You left him there. Level ten, wand now taped to his sensitive tip, pushing into the throes of overstimulation as you sat back and took mental notes. You were definitely doing this again.

[east-germany]

ECOCIDE TIME!

From left to right, Acid Communism, The Church Of Euthanasia, Eco Fascism and Esoteric Fascism! Recolor and mini zine under the cut!

💊☭Acid Communisim aka AcidComm aka Acid aka “He’s seeing monsters! He’s losing his mind and he feels disjointed”- An affinity for East German memorabilia, electric kool-aid acid tests and highly prone to delusions and irrational thought. Keep him far away from Esofash who can and will convince him his hallucinations are reality. Constantly rambling about surveillance devices and loves watching grainy security camera footage. Unlike the actual ideology, he’s exactly what it says on the tin, that is a commie on acid. 💊☭.

🌎🚯The Church Of Euthanasia aka Euthie aka Snuff (Please call him Snuff.) -Save the planet! Kill yourself! With the four pillars of the church being sodomy, abortion cannibalism and suicide, she’s a real work of art. He was actually alive, dated Darwinism for about a week until they realized that their ideas about the one thing we’re all meant to do is just too incompatible, and as a result Darwinism killed Euthie. Now he’s called Snuff and isn’t a cult stop fucking asking gawd. Also slightly embodiment of 90′s counterculture vibes. Likes Orwell, piss and probably has a crush on The Being. Don’t tell anyone.🌎🚯

⚡⚡🍃 Ecofascism aka ecofash aka eco. You’re telling me these plants are based? He gets along surprisingly well with Esofash. Originally planned to be Authright and Anprim’s child, still considering. Militant veganism isn’t enough, think tankie or full on fascist style veganism. Also a very picky eater in general and at this point refuses to eat anything that doesn’t say “based” on the label. Worships our lord and savior Uncle Ted, like we all should. Actually has very good points on preserving the environment for the future- I mean very good points when he isn’t going off on some horrid tangent about immigration (Homonationalism’s ecological counterpart?)⚡⚡🍃

⚡⚡🔮Esoteric Fascism aka esofash aka eso. Wanna buy some essential oils? He’s a mlm mlm, and initially was horrified to learn he was turned into a capitalist ideology but who the hell else spends that much on crystals? Keeping the local hippie shops very much in business. Hey maybe this crystal will make him want to text me back! He also believes in every conspiracy theory to ever exist, and spends ungodly amounts of time in-front of flickering computer monitors watching grainy ass youtube footage of demons caught on tape n shit. Don’t tell him you’re psychotic, his current psychosis episode (Do they ever end?) is like level 15 and will obliterate your ass. Putting the pro in prodromal stage. So anyways here’s why the lizard people aren’t the real threat.⚡⚡🔮

[babyjamiebarnes]

Build-A-Bear

Part One

Featuring: Bucky x Stark!reader, dad!Tony, Peter Parker (platonic), background MCU characters

Warnings: [chapter] language; [series] language, smut, violence

Summary: The only people who knew she was actually a Stark were her dad, her step-mom Pepper, and her “uncles” Happy and Rhodey. A promotion within Stark Industries takes her from an already-sought after position in the Weapons Anaylsis Unit straight to the Avengers as a Weapons Enhancement Specialist... which means her dad is her new boss. There’s only one rule at work: no fraternizing with coworkers. There’s one more rule at home: no dating any Avengers. So what is she supposed to do when a grumpy super soldier becomes not-so-grumpy around her? At 25, do her dad’s rules still apply? Or is her entire livelihood at risk?

Author’s Note: I’ve written a decent portion of this but know I won’t keep writing it or post it unless I hold myself accountable and get it out there in the first place 🙈 I haven’t written much for Marvel yet but I’ve read plenty and have written for other fandoms in the past (not to mention the writing degree on my wall lol). I’ll try to post every 2-3 days to keep this moving! And if you like it and want to, buy me a coffee!

No one knew Tony Stark had a daughter. No one but Tony Stark and his daughter. Well, and her step-mom Pepper. And her godfather Rhodey. And her uncle-not-uncle Happy. But no one in their everyday lives knew. She was given her mother’s maiden name and kept a secret, even when she turned 17 and moved to a small apartment near NYU’s campus (with Happy stationed right next door, of course) to start life as a truly normal adult, or as close to normal as an undercover Stark could be. When she graduated with her PhDs in robotics and electrical engineering at 25 — proving brains really do run in the family — she moved into her own apartment in Manhattan, funded by her father under the pseudonym “Michael Myers.” Subtlety was never his strong suit.

Fortunately for you, growing up without the Stark name let you live a relatively normal life. It also allowed you to apply for a position within Stark Industries without being ushered past any red tape because of who your father is. Outside of the financial advantage you had, you worked for your spot in a STEM career. You suffered through every man in your field belittling your work despite knowing less than you. You dealt with the constant interruptions and “well, actually” because of your gender. You powered through late nights and early mornings when your mind was flowing too smoothly to quit.

The last thing you wanted to do was have all that work disregarded because you shared a name with genius billionaire playboy philanthropist Tony Stark. So you filled out the application, sent in your resume and cover letter, and attached three letters of recommendation from your professors. You went through hours of interviews, background checks (conveniently redacting your father’s name), and polygraph tests until that offer letter showed up in your email. You even had to sign the Non-Disclosure Agreements that would bar you from discussing *anything* work-related with anyone outside of your department.

You spent your first year in the weapons analysis department, evaluating alien weaponry and determining how it worked and how to disable it. You had your fair share of mishaps, of course. Holes blasted into walls, fried robot dummies, even burnt animal carcasses. By the end of your first year, your supervisor sent a commendation and proposal for you for an undisclosed promotion. After Pepper Potts “thoroughly examined your resume, cover letter, and accomplishments during your tenure with Stark Industries,” as the letter read, you were awarded a position working on the Avengers’ weapons as a Weapons Enhancement Specialist. You’d never see a fight in-person, but you were assigned to work on advancements and post-battle repairs for everyone, from the Winter Soldier’s arm to the Falcon’s wings to Vision’s... everything. The only heroes you wouldn’t work on were Iron Man and War Machine (those were your dad’s territory) and Spider-Man.

On your first day in your new position, the one and only Pepper Potts showed you to your new lab on the 47th floor. It took all your willpower to look your step-mother in the eye and say, “Wow, Miss Potts. This is amazing. It’s such an honor to meet you,” with a straight face to convince any passerby that you had no outside affiliation with her. Even if her eyes stayed steady on you, you could see her mentally rolling them.

Once you were alone behind the doors of the elevator, conversation changed course.

“You’re going to be sharing a lab with someone else,” Pepper said.

“Sweet. As long as they’re competent, that’s fine by me,” you shrugged. Part of earning your degrees was learning to share a workspace with others, even those who bumbled and fumbled with no idea what they were doing. You’d had more hair singed by nearby explosions than you’d like to admit.

“He’s still in college so he’s not here as often as the others. Most of his work will be on Spider-Man’s gadgets and suit, but you can use him for any help you need.”

Walking past the familiar faces of Dr. Banner and Dr. Cho in their respective labs, Pepper ushered you into your lab, where you were met by your father and put on the same excited facade you did with Pepper.

“Oh my god, you’re Tony Stark! This is incredible! It’s such an honor to meet you, sir!”

He shook his head at you and reluctantly accepted your outstretched hand. Oh, the jokes you’d be making at family dinners.

“Yeah, anyway, this is your new lab, Miss [Y/L/N]. Make yourself at home. This lab rat over here is mister Parker. If you have any questions, he can at least bullshit an answer for you.”

The young man on the other side of the lab perked up at the sound of his name. He tugged the goggles off his face and set down his soldering rod to rush over to you.

“Hi. Hi, I’m Peter,” he said, reaching his hand out to you.

“I’m [Y/N]. It’s nice to meet you, lab partner.”

He looked to be a bit younger than you and at least relatively smart, if the MIT sweatshirt peeking out from under his lab coat said anything. If your dad gave him an internship like this, you knew you shouldn’t question it. He had to be a genius.

The kid just smiled at you, continuing to shake your hand past what most would deem socially acceptable.

“Okay, enough of that,” Tony said, pushing on your joined hands to separate you two. “Mister Parker might be in and out of the lab from time to time. He joins the Avengers on the occasional recon mission for immediate repairs but since he’s on break from classes, you’ll see him more often than not. Play nice.”

When he noticed you surreptitiously looking Peter up and down, he added, “Remember, no fraternizing with coworkers.” He pointed a finger directly at you before he spun and pointed to your fellow lab mate, realizing he should warn Peter too to save face.

“All the blueprints you need for the Tin Man’s arm are in the system. We’ll have you start on that and see what you can do about minimizing the sound that thing makes. Any other questions, give Pep a call.”

“Thank you, mister Stark. I really do appreciate everything,” you said genuinely.

“Yeah, well… don’t let me down,” he replied, patting you on the shoulder on his way out. Pepper followed close behind, leaving you alone with Peter Parker.

“So Peter,” you started, sliding onto the lab chair next to where he remained standing, “tell me about yourself.”

“Uh… what do you want to know?” he asked as he shoved his hands into his coat pockets.

“How old are you?” you asked immediately.

“I’m 21.”

Only four years younger than you. So you’d probably get along just fine.

“I assume you’re at MIT?” He nodded. “What are you studying?”

“Biomolecular and mechanical engineering.” He said it so casually, you’d think he was talking about the last song he heard on the radio.

“Damn,” you responded, eyes wide. “I thought robotics and electrical engineering was wild but fuck, that sounds like hell.”

He laughed and nodded, letting a bit of the tension in his shoulders fall. “Yeah, it’s not easy. But it’s worth it.”

He shot you a small smile before gesturing back at his project. “I should probably get back to work and let you get started.”

For the rest of the day, you familiarized yourself with the Winter Soldier’s arm to figure out how to… turn the volume down? You assumed it was the gears inside causing the noise, but part of you wanted to outfit an audio jack and speaker just to fuck with your dad.

You and Peter worked in relative silence, aside from the playlist he had quietly playing through the lab sound system. When lunch rolled around, however, you finally spoke up.

“Hey Peter,” you called, his eyes flicking from the chemical beakers in front of him up to you. “First of all, what are you doing?”

“Um, it’s Spider-Man’s web fluid. Just trying to find more durable combinations.”

“Interesting.” As much as you wanted to touch the stringy substance, you knew better than to fiddle with someone else’s lab work. “Okay so second thing, in my last position, I’d just order food and have it brought to my floor but now that I’m on an exclusive floor, what do you do for lunch?”

“Oh, there are a couple security guys who have clearance to come into this floor. They just can’t get into any rooms so you’d have to meet them at the elevator. But I usually find something in the kitchen down the hall.”

“Oh, sweet. Thanks!” you said as you made your way out the door. Before you could fully exit, you turned back to see if Peter wanted you to grab anything. Once he promised he’d take his own break ‘once I get this one thing figured out,’ you continued to make your way to the kitchen.

As you drew closer to the doorway, you could hear three voices speaking over each other. They didn’t sound angry, but they were definitely arguing. You opened the door anyway and almost immediately froze in your tracks. The Falcon stood with one hand on his own head and one on the Winter Soldier’s head while Captain America rolled his eyes before those same eyes landed on you, along with the rest of the room.

“Perfect,” Sam started. “Hey new girl, between the three of us,” he said, pointing to himself, the Soldier, and the Captain, “who has the best hair?”

“First of all, my name is [Y/N]. Second,” you continued, making your way past them to the fridge you hoped your dad kept stocked with goodies, “that’s an unfair question.”

You grabbed a soda and popped it open before turning back to the three men. “Your hair suits each of you. Cap wouldn’t look good with Winter Soldier hair and Falcon wouldn’t look good with Cap’s hair.” You took a few steps closer, leaning against the island counter between you and eyeing each of them. Your eyes settled on the Winter Soldier, unashamedly flitting across his face and admiring the sharpness of his features. “You,” pointing at him, “could probably pull off either of their looks, though.”

Bucky smirked at you, but his rosy cheeks gave away a hint of embarrassment at your compliment. Steve and Sam, on the other hand, weren’t taking it quite as gracefully.

“What?!” Sam shouted. “Okay, now I know you’re lying. I could pull off Cap’s hair for sure.”

“You know, I think shaggy hair would really suit me,” Cap said, only half sarcastically.

You giggled to yourself as the three of them started talking over each other again, all dead set on their own hair being the best of them and positive they could pull off the others’ looks. While they bickered, you searched the pantry until you found a snack to at least get you through the remainder of the day.

“Alright boys, it’s been fun but I have work to do,” you said as you walked past them again. “Actually, wait. Bucky — can I call you Bucky?” He nodded even though you continued anyway. “If you could stop by lab six today, I’d love to check out your arm in person. The digital renderings aren’t quite the same.”

“Uh, okay. Sure. I’ll find you,” he said quietly.

“Sweet, thanks!” And with that, you skedaddled back to your lab.

[dearest-kibble]

Strings like a noose

Im back babyyyyyyy (and considering moving to A03 cause i cannot run a blog) but have a quick little yandere toshinori! More will be coming either on my A03 or here. Thank you all for bearing with me!

Tw: Stalking (i think that's it but if you see anything else please let me know!)

Without a doubt, you have the worst quirk in the world. Sure other people might have something equally as mediocre; like small sound amplification or the ability to perfect cooking ratios or something like that. But at least those were useful - they did something. But no, your quirk had to get you kidnapped.

Your kidnapper’s honeyed voice likes to tell you how the strings hang like a noose ‘round his neck; beautiful scarlet - satin and silk, intricately laced. His voice sounds familiar but you can’t place it. Why couldn’t your quirk have been something about memory? The bag around your head isn’t uncomfortable, neither is the blindfold and your captor promised to take them both off some day but you don’t think it’s really all that true.

He talks to you sometimes, about other things than his love for you and your quirk. About his day mostly. About how he doesn’t want to blind you so you’re allowed to see sometimes. The only view you ever get is a clean, luxurious bathroom. It smells like the lilac shampoo he uses on your hair.

“I think the kids would like you.” As soon as the door opens the voice begins to speak. The cover is lifted from your head, blindfold still wrapped around your eyes. He starts rubbing your head with a large hand. He does this sometimes.

“I don’t think they’d like you much if I told them what you’re doing.”

“Don’t be like that sweet; they’d love the two of us.” The rubbing turns into affectionate knuckles digging into your skull not nearly enough to hurt but you can tell there's a measure of strength behind it. “They’d love you so much - they must be tired of me.”

“I’m tired of you.” The snarl in your voice elicits a laugh from the voice. It’s a little self deprecating. “Stupid useless quirk. Wish I was never born with it.”

“Seeing other’s connections is a beautiful thing darling! I bet you can help so many with it.”

“It’s so helpful it got me kidnapped.” Oh, that one stung.

“I’m just protecting you, you don’t know what’s out there, even I can’t say for sure and I’m-” “Spit it out already. I’m fucking tired of you being all mysterious. You what, stalked me, hunted me down or whatever? Just tell me who you are. It’s not like I can hate you any more than I already do.” He sighs, lower than you thought possible and you feel your hair suddenly stands on end and the electricity in the air. A meatier hand grazes your cheek for a second - he coughs and it’s back to the boney fingers you're more familiar with. You feel the nails, cut short on your skin as he tugs the blindfold and for the first time, you look upon the face of the man who kidnapped you. Mouth stretched thin, Shaggy golden hair limply framing a gaunt skeleton face with sunken bright blue electrifying eyes. He bears the strongest resemblance to someone you’ve seen and still you can’t place it. He’s malnourished looking as you take more of him in oversized shirts and baggy pants that clearly don’t fit right. He looks homeless quite honestly. Yet your surroundings are anything but. Well furnished, imported goods and very very comfortable looking.

“I was wrong. I think I hate you more now.” And that rings a little hollow to you because even if he kidnapped you, you feel a little sorry for him and his clearly malnourished body.

“Please; don’t be like that. Your quirk sees connections and if I am connected to you than-” All the sympathy you gave him dissipates as he brings up this tired old rhetoric.

“I don’t care. It’s a useless quirk anyway and you took me here against my will. Who are you, the phantom of the opera?” He chuckles at that one.

“No no, I want to protect you; the phantom wanted to own Christine. I could never own you; but protection? I can give you that.”

“In that shrink-wrapped body of yours? I could blow on you and you’d fall over.”

“You can do anything you want to me and I’d crumble.” He puts a hand around his neck. “Even if you don’t know it you need me, that’s why I’m connected to you.” He squeezes and steps closer.

“Stop getting closer.” You sound more panicked than you should, he’s had you for so long and done nothing to you. But you’d never seen how large he was; how wealthy he must be. He stops dead in his tracks.

“Whatever you want, love.” He smiles unthreateningly with blood in his teeth and his thin lips part to show a severely perfect smile before he covers his mouth with a hand and swallows. “I-I’ll get you some food.”

“Get my hands undone then. You’re not going to spoon feed me again. It’s humiliating.”

“Young Bakugou would really take a shine to you I think.”

“I hope he hates you too. You deserve it.”

“Quite the opposite in fact, they all look up to me - or used to. I was quite the charismatic teacher.” More self deprecation. You wondered a long time ago if it was a manipulation technique; but it seems far too ingrained in how he speaks.

“Stop bringing up how “likable” you are. It’s not gonna make me like you. I hate you more than I hate this useless quirk.”

“It doesn’t matter if you hate me.” He shuffles around his kitchen, “Normally I eat out, so you’ll have to forgive my lack of food.” He starts to cobble something together and starts again in his voice. “One of my other students would think your quirk is amazing, please don’t bring yourself down my love; your quirk is why we’re together.”

“And that’s supposed to be a good thing?” He ignores you.

“Once I undo your bindings, you’ll be free to go wherever you want, it was just after the… relocation… I needed to make sure no one could find you. Not that they could keep me from you, I‘ll always know where you are.” He turns on the stove. “It’s such a beautiful quirk, made for love, my love.” He turns, eyes staring into you with blank kindness and shambles towards you on emaciated legs.

“Sto-” The smile on his face widens and widens as you try to speak but fail. “Please..” Another almost breath you let escape. He stands in front of you, hunching so his spine pushes against the back of his shirt, sharp chin digging into the crown of your head. His arms snake around your waist clammy and jutting into your side like rocks. You feel like they weigh you down — into an early grave where someone has already been buried. With that strength that was present earlier he takes a hold of your wrists and pulls. The tape snaps but you hardly feel free.

“You're free to go wherever you want now. Just so long as you come back every night. I’ll get you whatever you need and do whatever you need me too.” It takes you a while to compose your breath but you're sure he’s felt you struggle to catch your breath. So many times.

“But I’m not free to go wherever I want! You always know where I am.” Your hands find their way to your head, digging into your scalp. “How do I know you won’t follow me. You stalked me before you’re gonna do it again.” He’s still hugging you - frozen in place growing colder by the second and coughs. One hand leaves your back and up to his mouth. Pulling away he speaks.

“I’m not always going to be here,” He holds up his hand, mouth open - it never closes - in a grimace. His hand and chin are dripping with blood. “But while I am, I want to do the best I can for you. And what better way than knowing where you always are? I am here. Fear not for anything.” The other hand from your back works it’s way up gently to your head once again petting you. “You can’t see the strings connected to you, right?” You can’t respond anymore, you feel like he’s just smashed your guts. You want to vomit. “They’re beautiful. It’s because you’re beautiful and so is your quirk. I love everything about you.” He sighs deeply and tries to pull your hand from your head “Maybe it’s because I’m supposed to. Maybe I just have the need to protect or help.” He whispers a small ‘I want to save someone again.’ You pretend for your own sake that you don’t hear it. “But whatever the reason, never doubt,” He presses a kiss to your forehead and his fingers filter through your hair, pressing your head to his lips.

“A-all Mi-” He pulls away and rests a finger gently over your lips.

“Shh. I am here.”

[kozumekenza]

on my mind :: seven

:: suna rintarou x f!reader :: playlist :: masterlist ::

:: taglist: open :: wc: 1.8k ::

After a drunken one-night stand with your ex, you thought you could get him out of your life for good. Unfortunately, the two of you can’t seem to keep away from each other. Why can’t you leave each other alone? And more importantly, why is he still on your mind?

tw: alcohol, profanity, gets a bit nsfw at the beginning, implications of sex

“Do you wanna come inside?”

Your voice may have been slightly pleading, but you didn’t care. You wanted to have this conversation with Suna, wanted to tell him how you felt, wanted to wake up next to him tomorrow morning and all the mornings after. 

“Are you sure?” Suna seemed hesitant, and you knew why. He knew that by inviting him in, you were inviting him to a conversation about your relationship.

You nodded your head and unlocked the door to your apartment. You poured two glasses of wine and then found yourself in a familiar position; you sitting at one end of the couch, Suna on the other.

“You probably know why I asked you to come in,” you said, sliding one of the glasses down the coffee table towards Suna. He nodded, and you continued. “I really wanted to wait until after the Olympics, so I wouldn’t be distracting you, but I just can’t wait any longer.” You looked him in the eye before continuing. “I love you, Rintarou, and I can’t wait any longer to tell you. I want to be with you, I want to go with you back to EJP, if you’ll have-”

Your words were cut off by a very enthusiastic Suna who had dove across the couch to capture your lips with his. You kissed him back passionately, until he pulled away to whisper to you. 

“Of course I want you to come to EJP with me. I want it to be you.” You giggled somewhat childishly, allowing yourself to be caught up in the sheer happiness of the moment. You could feel Suna’s smile against your lips, his hands roaming across your body. 

“Do you wanna stay the night?”

Suna nodded enthusiastically, pulling you up from the couch. You led the way to the bedroom, tugging Suna’s hand and leaving the half-empty wine glasses on the table. 

As soon as you crossed the threshold of your bedroom, Suna was pushing you up against the wall, hands holding your face with such reverence that you thought you might cry. You could feel his lips ghosting across your jaw, neck, and collarbone as you carefully tugged off his shirt. You put your hands against his chest, reveling in the smooth, hard muscle there. As you started working on the button of Suna’s jeans, he still hadn’t made a move to undress you.

“Rin, please,” you whispered, voice feather-light and absolutely pleading.

You could feel the sinister grin that spread across Suna’s face against your neck, and you knew you were in trouble. “Already begging for me, babe?”

You scoffed and pushed him back until his thighs hit your bed, watching as he fell backwards into the mattress. “Fine, I’ll do it myself.” You took your clothes off rather unceremoniously, Suna smirking at your own impatience. Standing in front of him in just your bra and underwear, you slid his jeans off. He continued smirking until you straddled his waist, only two layers of cloth separating you two. His hands found your hips as you leaned down to kiss him. Suna’s lips were soft, perfectly distracting you as his hands drifted. 

You allowed yourself to be caught up in the heat of the moment, your mind completely drifting as Suna took control. Whispered words in the dark made your heart beat faster, soft confessions of love and Suna’s deep voice praising you. You savored the feeling of him, strong arms wrapping around you, a hand grabbing both of your wrists, back muscles rippling underneath your fingertips. 

When you fell asleep later that night, you were tucked into Suna’s chest, his arms wrapped around your body.

---

The sunlight streaming in through the windows woke you the next morning. You found yourself stifling a laugh at the familiarity of waking up with Suna, only this time, it was under much better circumstances. You didn’t make a move to disentangle yourself from his arms, instead sinking farther in and allowing yourself to close your eyes and listen to his heartbeat. 

He stirred, leaving a gentle kiss on your forehead as he rolled to face you completely. A hand came up to rest on the side of your face. Suna’s eyes were soft, a sleepy smile on his lips. 

“I’m not dreaming, right?”

You giggled a little at his question.”No, this is real.”

“Good.”

“Why do you ask?”

He gave you a long blink before answering. “‘Cause it’s everything I’ve been dreaming of for the past eight years.”

You swatted at his arm, laughing. “You are so soft for someone who has chronic resting bitch face and never answers personal questions in interviews.”

“You watch my interviews?”

Blushing, you nodded. “Every single one. And every highlight reel. Every game. Anything to do with you.”

“Who’s the soft one now?”

His knowing grin made you groan, lifting yourself off the bed. Suna clung to your arm like a sloth. “Where do you think you’re going?”

You rolled your eyes. “Breakfast, I’m hungry.”

He released you and flopped back into the bed, burrowing into your blankets. You smiled at his antics, then got up to make coffee and something to eat. 

---

The weekend passed in much of the same fashion, you and Suna staying in bed much longer than you should, watching replays of EJP games (Suna needed your opinion, apparently) and talking. 

On Sunday afternoon, you pulled out your laptop to email a resume to EJP’s coach, but Suna stopped you.

“I already called coach, the job’s yours if you want it.”

You snapped your head up to look at him, laptop sliding off your lap. “Huh?”

“You got the job, it’s yours.”

“What do you mean? I haven’t even applied or sent a resume.”

Suna just looked at you. “You don’t need to, you’re hired already. I called coach and gave him your credentials, and he wants you to be our trainer.”

You gave Suna an incredulous look. “When did you do that?”

He smiled, “Two weeks ago.”

Your jaw dropped. “You were that confident that I would get back together with you?”

“I call it hopeful. And yes.” You rolled your eyes before pulling him in for a kiss.

“Thank you, Rin. And let me guess, I already have somewhere to live?”

“Of course, with me.” You grinned. “My apartment’s pretty big, more of a penthouse, anyway. We can move back together after the Games.”

Your smile became even wider. You liked the idea of “together”.

---

When you and Suna walked hand-in-hand into Monday’s morning practice, Atsumu laughed. 

“I fucking knew it. You two can’t keep away from each other.”

Suna punched Atsumu in the shoulder before dropping you off at your office with a kiss on the cheek. 

Practice was much better now that you and Suna were actually together. With two weeks until the move into the Olympic Village, training was picking up. The hardest would be over at the end of the week, with the week before the move-in full of easier drills and low-impact exercises. You enjoyed being able to watch Suna without restraint, taking in every move, every muscle. 

You spent your evenings with Suna, taking extra care of sore muscles and aching joints. He laughed at your fussing, but you didn’t stop. You wanted him to play at top form in the upcoming Games, and you were going to do everything you could to make sure he got there. 

Atsumu was petty about you “playing favorites”, as he put it, but his jealousy was quickly dismissed when you threw an ice pack at him. 

On the last practice before you left the National Team training center, the atmosphere was electric. Training was minimal, focusing on stretching and keeping muscles warm rather than drills and practice matches. You even watched tapes from the most recent world championship, taking notes on opposing teams and players. 

When practice was finally over, you helped Iwaizumi pack all of the training gear.

“Thank you for doing such a good job this season, y/n. I know the team will be in good hands with you.”

You smiled bright at his praise. “Thank you. I hope you enjoy Argentina, although I and everyone else will miss you.”

Iwaizumi shrugged. “It’s about time I left anyway. My fiance’s been waiting for me for quite some time.”

You laughed a little bit. “That’s quite romantic.”

“Just wait ‘til you meet him. He’s the opposite of romantic. In fact, he’s quite annoying.”

“I’m going to meet him?”

“Yeah, he plays for the Argentina volleyball team. He’s gonna be all ‘Iwa-chan, how dare you be on Japan’s side. How dare you be their trainer. I can’t believe you.’ Just wait, it’s obnoxious. You’ll wish you didn’t meet him.”

Stifling your laughter, you replied, “I’m sure that’s not true.”

Without missing a beat, Iwaizumi said, “It is, trust me.” He looked over his shoulder at you. “Anyway, I should be the one congratulating you. It seems you and Suna finally figured everything out.”

Your cheeks flared red. “How’d you know about that?”

Iwaizumi chuckled. “Atsumu, of course. The whole team’s been making bets on how long it would take for you two to get back together, for Suna to realize who took his jersey, pretty much everything.”

You paused, one of your hands still in a box of athletic tape. “He told you everything?”

Iwaizumi nodded, watching as you stomped towards the locker rooms. “Excuse me.”

Iwaizumi proceeded with his packing, only pausing slightly when he heard a very loud, very agitated, “Miya Atsumu!”

---

You dropped the heavy box you were carrying, wiping the sweat from your forehead. Suna dropped his box next to yours, then flopped on your bed. 

“Get off, Rin. This isn’t your room. And we have more boxes.”

He groaned, looking up at you. “C’mon, y/n. It’s hot, and I need to rest. Big games coming up, y’know?”

You grabbed his hands, dragging him off the small bed. “A few more boxes, Rin, I promise.”

Later that night, after unpacking the boxes of training supplies and going over schedules with the coach and Iwaizumi, you were finally settled in your tiny room in the Olympic Village. You were rooming alone, with team supplies taking up half of the space. Just as you were about to drift to sleep, your door opened, a tiny sliver of light from the hallway slipping in.

You didn’t even roll over. “Rin, there is not enough room for you in here. This bed is tiny as fuck.”

“C’mon, y/n. I can’t sleep when I’m not next to you.”

You tried to ignore the pleading tone in his voice, but you could picture the puppy dog eyes he was probably giving you. “Fine,” you sighed, lifting the blankets for him to join you.

“Thank you, babe.”

You hummed, relishing in the warmth of Suna’s chest, just about to fall asleep when-

“Hey, do you think it’s true that these beds break if you have sex on them?”

---

The bed broke. 

taglist:  @sunasexual @call-me-lulu​ @ntimacy​ @circleglasses​ @porcolie​ @keikotaro @rintarovibes​ @kenmaslov3r​ ​

[neovisioned]

♡ꜜ eddie ate dynamite﹫johnny suh

fangs - matt champion PLAYLIST

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At that, he frowns.

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

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

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

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

“But, I didn’t or-.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, fuck !”

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

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

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

Plus, who knows, maybe they’re nice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe you’ll keep the sheet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He turns around, you duck to the side.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, good bye !”

“See you soon, Y/N !”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jae’…What ?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N. Send him a sheet.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How can you say no to this ?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your number, he wants your number.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rain starts pouring down.

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

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

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

Your playlist.

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

Blatant flirting, Jaehyun would say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N ! Hello !”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Washing machine.”, he says simply.

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, kids !”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. We’ll go together, yeah ?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, I wanted us to match.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait, he tried ?”

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

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

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

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

“Johnny ? Turn the fucking light off.”

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

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

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

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

“Just a day ! What are you making ?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Great.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It takes hours for Johnny to address it again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your apartment, yeah ?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

© NEOVISIONED l NO REPOSTING OR TRANSLATIONS ALLOWED.

[yarichin-imagines]

Hi!!! okokok, how bout a s/o who has a kind of quirk (just like bnha!), how do you think they would react? Like, I think they'd probably integrate into something related to sex or develop a kink (? LMAO

y'all i am so into bnha you have no idea!! also, for neutrality purposes, i'll be using the quirks of deku, todoroki, bakugou, uraraka, kirishima, denki, sero, iida, and satou, all from class 1A, mostly just because none of their quirks rely on physical appearances!!

tw: impact, dubcon (drugging, somno), dummification if you squint

Toono – S/O's Quirk: One for All – This Quirk is a union of two different Quirks, one that stockpiles power and one that passes itself on to another. The user can momentarily gain strength and speed far greater than any other Quirk and hero.

thankfully by the time he'd met you, you'd mastered the use of your Quirk

you were never the prance about type to flash around your power anyway

you preferred to use it for more mundane tasks – like opening pickle jars and carrying the groceries into the house in one trip

he found out about it on accident

he was on his way out when he caught you in the parking lot coming in––

with your car in hand, two feet off the ground

you'd dropped your fob somewhere underneath it and couldn't see

toono passed out

when he came to, his first questions revolved around whether or not the car was okay

once he wraps his head around it though..

he's way more into it than he tells you

but it also fuckin terrifies him

so much so that he really doesn't want you to use it on him

definitely has watched you use it so intently that he can nut off to it later

maybe one day he'll pluck up and ask you to activate it for some pictures he can keep

Kashima - S/O's Quirk: Half-Cold, Half-Hot – This Quirk splits the user into two, half of the user's body can emit ice, the other half emits fire.

honesty is a pillar to kashima's relationship

your quirk came to light a month or so into seeing him

and at first, he was mostly excited about the health benefits

he decides then and there that you gotta do him a solid and chill his side of the bed

that way he can keep cool when he sleeps

sometimes

even if he's half asleep

he'll grab your right hand with a lil soft tug

and in your drowsy stupor you chill his pillow so there's no need for a flip

makes him grin like an idiot every time

when he comes home from practice or from the gym he has you freeze and unfreeze the bathwater-- saves you guys a whole lot of ice

he doesn't mind letting you ease his muscles with your left side after all the heats works wonders that would make any rice pack green with envy

as a top, kashima's got complete control in the bedroom

all day, he'll ask you to close your eyes and heat something up, maybe it's a vibrator or a dildo

or when you chill something, they're usually beads or a plug

all for him to torment you with later on that night

Yacchan – S/O's Quirk: Explosion – This Quirk allows the user to sweat a substance similar to Nitroglycerin from the user's palms and ignite it to create explosions.

kyosuke recognizes it's too dangerous to use in the bedroom

but that being said, there's plenty of other stuff around the place to let you show off

your firework shows are always the best on the block

especially when he sets some off right when yuu isn't expecting it

mainly, yacchan appreciates your quirk when it comes to pulling pranks

It's really funny when you're popping ziploc bags full of nothing right outside tamura's dorm when he's trying to power nap before exams

and even funnier when he storms out in just tighty whities to yell at you

only to meet the flash of yacchan's cellphone

toono will fall asleep during study sessions sometimes and yacchan will facetime you so you can let out a boom and wake him up

he will most definitely fall off the bed and yacchan will most definitely record it

the two of you are the best of the worst that way

Shikatani – S/O's Quirk: Zero Gravity – This Quirk allows the user to cause people and items to float on contact. There is a weight limit on how much the user can levitate, and if this Quirk is used to much, it will cause the user to get sick.

it's really helpful when you help him deep clean

after all, if the supplies are gracefully floating behind him, that leaves his hands free to do twice the work, saving him half the time

but you're content to watch the beautiful boy work

if you help him clean like that, he won't ask for much more that day

he is very very conscious of how much you use your quirk

because he cares about you too much to let you get sick

since he knows for a fact that because of his ocd he won't be able to take care of you

and that stings

so on the days where the chores have all been done he gets the honor of experiencing the effects of your quirk in bed

he likes how it feels when your tease him from the air above

your throat feels more open

but it's not like he can do too much about it since the instant he gets too eager you always float just out of reach

sometimes if he's behaved very well, you'll suspend him

the headrush he gets is euphoric

but the best is how good you are when you blow out his back with your strap

after all, without gravity, your stroke game is literally out of this world

Akemi – S/O's Quirk: Hardening – This Quirk allows the user to harden any part of their body. This shell can withstand several tons of metal falling on the user, along with shock waves, explosions, etc.

there's nothing cuter to akemi keiichi than a brat

if you want to misbehave?

by all means

go right ahead

he'll leave it to you to exhaust yourself

that's the first time he saw you use it

he wasn't aiming to cause any major damage, he was only spanking you with his hand

but he'd been at it for almost an hour

then suddenly he'd pushed you off him after he'd slapped what felt like a solid rock

not that it could stop him

his eyes only grew darker

from then on out, it was all a game to see how far he could push before the shell wore down and you gave into him

Itome – S/O's Quirk: Electrification – This Quirk allows the user to discharge electricity out of the user's body. It goes out in all directions around the user, and can be used to even charge objects, such as batteries. There is a limit to how much this Quirk can be used, and if used too much, the user will short circuit their own brain, and won't be able to do anything for an hour.

of course you can charge his phone in a pinch when it dies at the worst possible moment

hotwire his car when he's already running late

restart the fusebox when there's a power outage

after hours, itome's not a hard dom

not in the slightest

but every once in awhile, he can be particularly malicious

like when he has you overcharge your vibrators to give him the liberty of overstimulating you for longer

really it's less about the scene and more about what comes after

due to the limits of your quirk, aftercare is all on him

that's what he likes the most

taking care of you completely

being able to coax you through your braindead state

clean you off and pose you all comfortable

you're all the sweeter when you come to, when you come back to him

Yuri – S/O's Quirk: Tape – This Quirk allows the user to shoot extremely strong tape from openings on the user's elbows.

the tape is good for fixing most messes yuri gets himself into, clumsy fuck

also waxing!

of course he's gonna be into it

he loves the sting it leaves when you pull it off him the most

and he feels it all over again when there's red rectangular patches all across his skin the next morning

though the gluey part is a bit of a pain to wash off

sometimes he'll leave it for him to pick at throughout the day -- that way he'll get the shivers, makes him hot all over again!

he literally cannot get enough

when you do your school work or anything that diverts your attention from him, he'll be tugging at your elbow

this way you can restrain him until you're ready to ahem

put him to use

you can also use your tape to toss him around, floor to bed to floor to wherever

sometimes you even tape up his face, cover his mouth until the drool renders the tape into a thin flimsy strip

you tie his hands tighter and tighter every time, and it never breaks him

he loves it

on the other hand, yuri can be quite the slippery fuck

for emergencies, you've got some of your tape stored away

you've woken up more than once hogtied, your quirk turned against you

like it or not, yuri can easily turn the tables and you're almost never expecting it

you might have an unlimited supply, but he's too quick for your own good

Tamura – S/O's Quirk: Engine – This Quirk gives the user incredible speed by engine-like protrusions in the user's calves. The engines are fueled by orange juice, and carbonated drinks will mess the engines up.

he calls a 40 meter dash every single weekend

he sets his treadmill to train for it the whole week

but he never beats you

and it seriously pisses him off

you're always faster, no matter the game

if anything, it motivates him

he'll take the bruised ego if it helps him get into better shape

the fact that sometimes, you let him win makes his "engines" overheat faster than you can blink

he'll chase you and chase you for hours

fueled on adrenaline and testosterone, there's no way he'll tap out before you

expect a long, hard bite once he catches you

he goes absolutely animalistic

that lilt in his voice when he finally gets to sink his teeth into your shoulder, even if it's through a shirt, that doesn't matter to him

"caught you"

Jimmy – S/O's Quirk: Sugar Rush – This Quirk allows the user to become stronger and faster every 10 grams of sugar they eat for three minutes. The more the user uses this Quirk, the dumber they get.

every time he catches you snacking on a chocolate bar his whole brain turns off

he's practically jumping, the way he bounces around

waiting for you to inevitably choke slam him against the nearest surface

wall, couch, bed, anything

he likes it when you just toss him over your shoulder

even more the way your hits are harder than usual

he antagonizes you on purpose

making sure to stuff a grocery cart full of sweets he knows you like so that he can catch you snacking and make him pay through the nose

he always asks so nicely

but when you won't give in, well that just won't do!

doses your miso with sugar, drops in three extra cubes in your milk tea, encourages extra flan for dessert

for the next three minutes, you're nearly tripping over yourself

everything is lighter

and then when the crash hits---

jimmy can finally take what he wants

and karma is quite the bitch

[ms-demeanor]

You are the one who reblogged a post with a bunch of resources about treating wounds and foraging and using a rifle. You, other anarchists, are where I’m getting the sense of the “life” I’m supposed to look forward to. Not movies.

You know how I know you’re not talking about me?

Because I’m actually really, really fucking cautious about not reblogging information about foraging because I literally know someone who poisoned his dumb ass foraging and died and I would not share that kind of resource with someone who I’m not 100% sure is excellent at woodcraft and has a shitload of outdoor experience. I actually pretty stridently recommend that you DON’T learn how to forage from online resources.

Juuuuuust in case I double checked my blog back through august.

What are you talking about? No forage resources or rifle resources here, at least not for the last 22 days. The one wound treatment thing I’ve reblogged this month is a link to CERT classes, which are community emergency response classes.

I don’t make a secret of the fact that I am pro gun ownership but I also don’t make a secret of the fact that I think if people are pro gun they also need to be pro gun safety education - there are way too many firearms in the US for us to *not* teach kids how to handle them safely. But I sure do NOT talk about having gun battles on this blog because I think that’s glorifying a fantasy version of a fast, easy revolution that I don’t believe in.

(however, as always, if you’re in my general area, don’t know how to use guns, and would like to learn I am available to teach you the basics, as much as social distancing and global pandemics allow anyway)

But. Also.

Buddy, let’s pretend it’s four years ago, or nine years ago, or twenty years ago. Let’s pretend that whatever party is in office doesn’t matter and is totally unrelated to everything.

Have you ever lived through a large earthquake?

A tornado?

A hurricane?

Sometimes infrastructure fails and knowing how to treat wounds is a very, very, very good idea.

Everyone should take a first aid class. I think first aid classes should be a requirement for graduating high school. I first got CPR certified with my girl scout troop when I was 12 and my mom took me to a mobile morgue class when I was 7 because my mom was the department safety coordinator for the DWP in Los Angeles and she was in charge of earthquake drills and first aid training and disaster preparedness and the Northridge quake had just happened.

I grew up taking first aid incredibly seriously, reading “Hatchet,” and my idea of fun is getting a vehicle stuck in an inland sea or going backpacking and encountering a bear. Learning woundcare and treatment for heatstroke and hypothermia is. Like. It’s a pretty big part of making sure I’m doing stupid bullshit as safely as possible.

Also, yeah, I’ve totally superglued my finger closed and used fishing finger wraps to seal a cut and used coffee stir sticks and electrical tape to make finger splint. Even with insurance it still costs me a couple hundred dollars to go to the ER or several hours to go to an urgent care, and that’s when I’ve HAD insurance. Knowing how to safely treat non-life-threatening injuries is just something you should know how to do if you’re broke in America; I’m lucky that I can afford to go to the ER now; that has not always been the case for me.

You ever hung out with really drunk friends? Do you know how to check eye tracking? Do you know how to put someone in the recovery position?

You ever had a friend get clocked with a boot in the pit? Do you know how to check pupil dilation to see if you need to get to a hospital ASAP?

Buddy, you don’t have to be worried about the end of the world to want to get prepared to handle an injury while camping and you don’t have to be an anarchist to think it’s a good idea to know how to treat heatstroke.

ANYWAY there’s this flaw in the human brain called negativity bias, which is where we remember negative, scary stuff more than we remember good, positive stuff.

I’m generally a pretty positive blogger, the resource lists I reblog tend to be things like “here are mutual aid groups” and “learn how to be a hacker” and “here’s how to support people who lose access to abortion.” If you’re getting primarily negativity out of the stuff that I’m reblogging I believe you’re missing the forest for the trees, bud.

The way to handle and cope with negativity bias is to be aware of it! If you’re sitting there going “everything is terrible!” ask yourself “is everything actually really terrible or am I only remembering terrible things?”

2020 is actually a fucking FANTASTIC example of that because there has been a lot of bad shit going on but there have also been really great examples of humans helping each other and people working to take care of each other and apparently Venus might have aliens and that’s just really fucking cool. There is a BUNCH of negative shit out there and we do hear about it all the time but don’t let that bury the positive shit.

You know what I want people to take away from that resource post? That you can and should protect your community from speed traps by reporting cops on traffic apps, and that by reporting cops on traffic apps you are doing a tangibly good thing to prevent marginalized groups from being targeted by police.

That’s a real, simple, easy thing that you can do to actually help people - speed traps don’t work if people don’t know about them and it’s why cops have tried to make it illegal for drivers to warn each other about them.

The idea that the government of the United States is going to collapse tomorrow and things will devolve into gun battles in the streets and foraging to keep from starving seems fairly farfetched but even if that does happen you know that mutual aid helped people survive the great depression, right?

And I don’t want to do the “you should feel #blessed that you’re better off than those people in POOR, UNDEVELOPED countries” thing but people get up and live their lives every day in conditions that require them to forage and navigate violent areas.

It’s shitty that people have to live like that, I wish they didn’t have to and I don’t want more people to have to live in extreme poverty in places that are violent, but it seems kind of. I don’t know. Arrogant? To decide you’re better than that so you might as well lay down and die.

“What do I have to look forward to” - buddy, the world doesn’t owe you a happy ending. You have the rest of your life to look forward to. You have friendships and laughter and cool projects and the people you’ll help someday and the people who will help you someday and sunsets and ripe fruit and meteor showers to look forward to.

Nearly everywhere in the world, through all of history, even peasants danced.

You’ve got the world to look forward to.

And if everything does go to hell in a handbasket and there are gun battles in the streets and you’re trying to make sure you’re gathering morels and not deathcaps then you’ve STILL got the world to look forward to and how you go into it is going to be up to you no matter how a fucking election turns out.

[mymoonagedaydream]

Hey girl 💞it’s my birthday next week Wednesday and I have no friends 🙃so I’m hoping if you have any time/ and if you want to could you write a fluffy birthday for Reader and Bucky where he is being all nice and shit. I recognise how tragic this sounds lol but it is what it is 😂 hope you have a good week and keep up the amazing stories 💞

103 Candles

Summary: You wouldn’t have minded your birthday quietly slipping by without anyone noticing, but apparently that wasn’t allowed on Bucky’s watch.

Pairing: Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Language, much floof as requested

Author’s Note: Happy Birthday for Wednesday anon! I know things seem to be relentlessly shitty at the moment but I really hope you have a lovely day despite all that. And don’t be saying you got no friends cause I’ve just written a whole bloody story for you, cheeky thing. (I moved this one up the queue a little but hey, can’t miss a birthday.)

---

‘Mail call.’

Bucky was already standing inside your room, knocking on the door after he’d opened it. Apparently privacy wasn’t a word in his vocabulary, he’d caught you half-dressed more times than you could count but obviously still hadn’t learned his lesson.

He grinned and held a handful of envelopes out to you.

‘Thanks Buck. Glad to see you’re finally making yourself useful.’

‘Don’t get used to it, cupcake.’

He flopped down onto your bed, lying back with his hands folded under his head. Your gaze unconsciously wandered down to where his t-shirt was riding up slightly, your face starting to heat up before you caught what you were doing and quickly looked away.

In the couple of months you’d been at the compound, no-one had made you feel more welcome than Bucky. He was the first to offer help whenever you needed it and he always made an effort to speak to you when your paths crossed.

Plus neither of you really had friends outside of work, so you spent most evenings alone with him in the living room, doing your very best to educate him on some of the best films of the last fifty years while he fought tooth and nail to stay stuck in his outdated ways.

He still thought Charlie Chaplin was the height of cinema, bless him.

You’d really become attached, but you knew pursuing anything romantic meant risking the loss of your best friend, so you just buried that feeling alongside your weird fascination with bigfoot and your inexplicable attraction to Donny Osmond.

He propped himself up on his elbows. ‘Anything exciting?’

You lazily flicked through the letters, stopping when you came across a bright red envelope, sporting what you instantly recognised to be your sister’s handwriting.

Dropping the rest of the pile, you held it up to Buck. ‘Looks like a birthday card.’

‘Your birthday’s coming up?’

‘Yeah, Wednesday.’

‘For real?’ He excitedly jumped back onto his feet. ‘What are we doing for it? Party?’

‘God no, I can’t think of anything worse.’

His arms folded across his chest as he gave a loud huff, narrowing his eyes at you in suspicion. ‘Is this one of those lady things where you say you don’t want something but actually do?’

‘Definitely not. Could we just keep this between us? Please?’

The smirk that spread across his face sent a bolt of dread coursing through your veins. It was obvious that he was plotting something, but before you could probe any deeper he had his hands up in surrender and was backing out of the room.

‘Whatever you say, weirdo.’

---

Wednesday came around and, as you’d hoped, it felt like just another normal day. You woke up late, shuffled to the kitchen to assemble something resembling a breakfast and encountered no unwelcome surprises on your way. 

Your optimism about getting through this day without drawing the attention of your colleagues was steadily growing but, just as you’d finished cooking and were about to escape back to your bedroom, Bucky strolled in looking very fucking pleased with himself.

He was wearing his winter coat, immediately rousing your suspicion because the crazy powerful compound heating made the place like a sauna, and holding something behind his back.

‘Hey! Happy b-’

You shoved your hand over his mouth. ‘I thought we had an agreement.’

He made a face and mumbled something into your palm, making you roll your eyes and reluctantly let go of his face.

‘Yeah, we agreed to keep it between us. I haven’t told anyone else.’ With a proud grin, he pulled a terribly wrapped gift from behind his back. ‘But you never said I couldn’t celebrate.’

You tried your best to look a little peeved, but you really struggled to smother your growing smile. 

You just hoped that this was all he had planned.

Taking the present from him, you tried to tear it open, quickly realising that he’d used an ungodly amount of tape to hold the shambles together. You ended up having to ferret out the kitchen scissors just to get into the bloody thing.

Finally cracking it open, you grabbed your gift and held it up, becoming instantly confused.

‘You got me a Christmas sweater?’

‘Yeah. When you have a birthday in December, you gotta accept that you’ll get festive gifts.’ He excitedly reached for the zipper on his coat. ‘You haven’t even seen the best part.’

You couldn’t believe your eyes.

Under his coat, he was wearing a matching sweater.

The only issue was that they obviously didn’t make them in his size, cause it was the tightest piece of clothing you’d ever seen anyone wear, including Nat. He looked like a size two sausage stuffed into a size one casing.

You started laughing so hard you could barely stay standing, his confused frown just sending you further into your spiral.

‘What? What’s so funny?’

You just about managed to form words through your breathless howling. ‘You look like a sex offender.’

‘Is that right?’ He gave you a roguish smirk and pulled your sweater out of your hands. ‘Well let’s see how you look in yours.’

‘I think I should save it for Christmas.’

‘I think you should be more polite about the gift I spent ages picking out for you.’

You quickly spun round, taking off towards the door. You knew you couldn’t outrun him, but you hoped you could at least get back to your bedroom before he caught up, locking him out along with the sweater.

It didn’t work.

You didn’t even make it out of the room before he’d grabbed you and pulled the sweater down over your shoulders, trapping your arms by your sides. 

With a reluctant sigh, you adjusted so you were wearing it properly, wincing at the itchy material rubbing against your neck. This thing would definitely give you a rash if you wore it for too long. 

‘Ah, you were right.’ Bucky looked you up and down with a smirk before strolling out of the room. ‘They do look terrible.’

You quickly pulled it off before shouting after him. ‘At least mine fits.’

---

The evening came around and you sequestered yourself to your bedroom, hoping to ride out the rest of the day in peace. There’d been no big surprise party and no more weird gifts, so you were feeling pretty good about your chances, when a series of loud thuds sounded against your door.

You reluctantly shuffled over and pulled it open, a little shocked to see Bucky standing there holding two huge pizza boxes. This was the first time he’d ever knocked before entering.

Eh, he probably just couldn’t reach the doorknob with his hands full.

‘What is this?’

‘Birthday dinner.’ He strolled past you with a grin, jumping onto your bed and flinging open the top box. ‘I didn’t get anything for my birthday back in March either, so we can call this a joint party.’

Alright, if the only “party” you had to endure this year was pizza in bed with Bucky, you’d figured you’d gotten off pretty lightly. You might even enjoy it, just as long as he had nothing else hidden behind his back.  

Crawling on next to him, you grabbed a slice and started stuffing your face, deciding for some reason to attempt conversation in between mouthfuls. 

‘How old are you, anyway?’

‘If you count my time in deepfreeze I’m 103.’

You audibly gasped and inhaled a bit of cheese, immediately choking and coughing your guts up like a fucking idiot. Bucky just chuckled and whacked you hard on the back. 

It didn’t help at all, but you appreciated the gesture.

‘I can see why we skipped it,’ you wheezed, ‘you’d need a fucking big cake for 103 candles.’

‘And an even bigger one for 104. I’m looking forward to seeing what you come up with.’

The two of you finished off the pizzas, Bucky wouldn’t admit it but he ate at least one and a half of them, and you threw the empty boxes onto the floor. Slumping back onto your pillows, you quickly had to dive sideways to dodge Bucky’s huge metal shoulder as he flopped next to you, obviously underestimating his own width. 

You flicked on the TV. ‘What d’you want to watch?’

‘I’ll let you pick, since it’s your birthday.’

‘For real?’ This was unprecedented, the two of you had never managed to watch a movie without at least thirty minutes of arguing beforehand. ‘Can everyday be my birthday?’

‘Maybe. If you play your cards right.’

You gave him a wide smile and let your head fall onto his shoulder, adjusting yourself a little when his arm came up to circle your shoulders. This had become your usual lazy evening position, but it felt a little different in bed than it did on the couch in the communal living area. More intimate.

It felt a lot different when his arm fell to your waist and pulled you in closer to him, that’d never happened before.

But you definitely weren’t complaining.

You shifted onto your side slightly, slotting your head into the curve of his neck, smiling to yourself at how neatly it fit there. Your knee automatically folded up to rest on his thigh, a bolt of electricity shooting up your spine when Bucky’s free hand moved to start caressing it lightly.

He must’ve felt you twitching, because he let out a gruff chuckle and pressed his lips into your forehead, lingering there for a few seconds before shifting to rub cheek across your temple.

It was rough and stubbly, scratching against your skin like the sweater, but this sensation was different. It felt satisfying and strangely familiar, immediately  sending you in to a deep, warm relaxation.

Eventually managing to pluck up some courage, you tilted your head back slightly so you were face-to-face with him. 

His gaze was already zeroed in on you. 

As soon as your eyes met, he lifted his hand from your knee to cup your face, brushing his thumb gently across your lips.

‘Good birthday?’

‘Yeah. Better than expected.’

He gave a slight smile and leaned towards you, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips pressed softly against yours. Your whole body tensed slightly, you pulled in a sharp, stuttering breath through your nose as your stomach tied itself in a knot.

It took a few seconds, but you eventually managed to compose yourself, relaxing and letting him lead the kiss while you just felt yourself begin to melt under his touch.

Your arms slid around his neck as his wrapped around your waist, the two of you steadily pulling each other closer until you were both on lying your sides with your bodies pressed together, limbs tangled up like electrical cables.

He pulled away slightly, whispering while his forehead was still pressed firmly against yours. ‘I was lying earlier, you looked great in that sweater.’

‘I’m still not gonna wear it.’

‘Fair enough.’

---

[binniedeactivated]

saint. || soobin💦

a/n: ya’ll forgive me someone requested soobin smut and I could not find the request on my page lolololol so whoever requested this i hope you enjoy!

saint m.list

🖤┊𝔰𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔱 . ೄྀ࿐ 𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: 𝖘𝖔𝖔𝖇𝖎𝖓 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: 𝖘𝖒𝖚𝖙/𝖆𝖚 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖉𝖆? 𝖎𝖋 𝖞𝖆’𝖑𝖑 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙. (𝖑𝖊𝖙 𝖒𝖊 𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜) 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙; 1893.

he was tall. sorry for stating the obvious but that was the most noticeable thing about him. I mean if you got really close maybe you could see his deep dimples that waded in both of his cheeks when he talked. Or if you were paying close attention to him you’d notice the way his eyes enveloped when he smiled or laughed. but enough of that though, choi soobin was nothing to admire. 

well, at least personality wise. he’d come to school in his snazzy maroon sweater vest and suit jacket and wore his hair in the side part that drove all of the girls crazy. you had to admit, it was reasonably so. he was a good looking guy. so why wouldn’t they? 

if they hadn’t been obsessing over him maybe they’d see him dump their textbooks in the trash when they weren’t looking or him cutting their ponytails or even worse, him lying to the priest about the sluts they were at the confessionals. poor father benjamin. 

luckily though you stayed low on the radar. I mean you weren’t completely invisible but at least your were the person who rather keep your head inside the book of Ecclesiasticus than choi soobin. you were one of the few at least. he even had the boys all over him, wanting to be him, wanting to act like him and dress like him. if this wasn’t a catholic school you’d think they’d rather be his girlfriend, too. but you couldn’t hold your school to a high standard I mean Melissa Mccarthy’s sex tape was floating around the school for months. And she was so called one of the most ‘attractive’ girls in school before she got expelled of course.

but back to choi soobin. he was a shit head. you knew in your heart of hearts he was. this is what mainly infuriated you when sister helena assigned him as your partner for a video watching. yeah a video watching. in which she’d pull out that big fat old tv and put on a black and white movie and expects you to write down the answers based on events that were happening in the film. she always assigned partners though because she thought two brains could capture better details than one. 

anyway he slides in the seat next to yours in the back of the room with a snarky grin on his face. he always had that dumb snarky grin. you pull down your plaid pleated skirt a little more over your knees. sister helena smiles at the both of you while passing out the question sheet and a couple of pencils. Soobin grabs it before you. not that you were racing to get it anyway. You saw him concentrating to write, must’ve been hard for him since he does little to no work. Then you realized he was writing his name and you wondered if how he even made it to senior year. 

it was your turn to write your name on the paper so you did so quickly before the movie started. you weren’t even 10 minutes into the movie before soobin began laughing and goofing off with his friends in the front of him. Sister helena shot you a severe look signaling the fact that she wanted you two to tone it down. but why did she address you and not soobin?

you nudge him on the arm. 

“hey quit it. sister helena is going to give us an F if you keep going”.

“and what does that have to do with me?”. soobin snarls you roll your eyes. 

“it has a lot to do with you because if i get a bad grade over you It’s going to be a serious problem”.

soobin laughs as if to say, ‘yeah right’. it only made you angrier. soobin tilts his head at you. you were kinda cute in a way. he never really looked at you before like he had now. he acted as if he were looking elsewhere and placed his hand on your knee. you flinch.

“soobin?-- what are you doing?”. 

you ask pushing his hand off. he does this sheepish grin that makes him the cutest but you didn’t want to admit it. 

“come on. we’re in the back of the room. don’t you want to have some fun?”.

“we have an assignment to do you idiot”. he places his hand on your knee again, only he raises it a bit more, dragging up your skirt a little. you had to admit, his hands felt nice. 

“you’re so worried about this assignment. trust me. I’ll make sure we have the answers even if we weren’t paying attention”.

your nerves ran endlessly as he dragged his fingers higher, now reaching the top of your thighs. you were grateful that you two were in the back of the room and that the table you two shared was enough to cover his movements. 

“s-s-soobin i don’t think we should”. you stuttered. it was weird how you forgot all the bad things about soobin as soon as he started touching you. He leans in your ear, 

“just relax. I’ll make you feel good i promise. have you ever been touched before?”.

no. and you would probably be the envy of the whole school if everyone knew who was waiting to touch you. 

“no i haven’t”. 

he ghosted his finger tips at the front of your panties, rubbing your slit lazily. you closed your eyes, feeling sorry for father benjamin and your confessions in advance. 

“you’re actually pretty cute”. soobin flirts with his lips still to your ear. you ignored his compliment letting him slip his fingers inside of your panties. he teases your clit with his fingertips before he touches it softly. 

you twitch and tap your foot so you wouldn’t be too suspicious to sister Helena. Not that she was paying you two any mind anyway. you don’t know what the hell gotten into you, but it was too late to stop it now. 

soobin scoots his seat closer to you and uses his other hand to grip his pencil in. He wanted to make he looked like he was doing as much work as possible. He pulled your panties back a bit more, using his finger to gently rub your clit in small circles. you shuddered. this was your first time experiencing something as mind blowing as this. 

with your priest of a father and religious mother you never had time to...explore. you finally saw what you were missing in life. soobin pauses his actions to spread your legs a little wider before he kept rubbing you. With each rub he’d do it more forcefully than the last. you bite your lips trying to detain any noises. it was hard though. 

“you’re so cute. you like getting your virgin pussy touched don’t you?”. soobin speaks in your ear with a low tone. he fastens the pace of his fingers feeling your puffy clit slick up in excitement. surges of electricity sprints through you. you pull your skirt over his hand. 

he casually pretends he’s watching tv and you’re suffering. If you don’t whimper, or wail, or anything you felt like you were going to explode in the next two seconds. He rubs you faster and you could feel your hips grinding against his fingers desparately. 

“don’t do that. fuck--you’re going to make me hard”. he warns in a casual whisper. you ignore him of course and clutch the table. you close your eyes and let his fingers slide through your pussy as you grinded. you opened your mouth hoping nothing came out. but you were in for a surprise when you created a small squeal by accident.

luckily though, no one but sister helena looked at you. With her pointer she pointed to the tv, meaning ‘pay attention or you will have detention’ . you’d sure liked to see her contain herself if she ever got fingered in the back of a classroom by a cute boy. but then again you wouldn’t like to see that, because  for a 50 year old woman that’d be fucking gross. 

soobin is chuckling lowly in your ear like the menace he was. “your pussy is so fucking wet holy shit”. 

you continue to bite your lips while he swiped your clit from side to side aggressively with three fingers. your heart pounded in your chest. you wanted to shriek, you wanted to scream but you couldn’t and it was killing you. 

you decided it was best that you left your small cries in the lowest volume as possible, only audible enough for soobin to hear. you were sopping through his fingers though. you panicked when you felt yourself pulse intensely. soobin grinned. he knew your were close. 

“that’s it, cum for me you little fucking saint”. he groaned in your ear. with your stuttering hips a wave of pressure came over you and you felt something leaking out of you. with your heavy breathing you had to come to terms with the fact that that was your first orgasm. 

holy shit.

the bell rung and classes ended and somehow someway you and soobin’s paper was full of answer by the time he turned it in. “Hey, you. come here I need to have a word with you”. sister helena grumbled looking directly at you. your heart raced. soobin gave you a small smirk before walking out the classroom. as almost if he was wishing you good luck. 

“yes?”. 

“I want to say that choi soobin is very misbehaved. But i am so glad I paired him with you. I’ve never saw him complete a whole paper his whole time here and this is his senior year here. hey, if you don’t mind i think i’d like to pair you two more often. Is that alright with you?”. she smiles. 

you blink. not believing what the hell you were hearing. 

“yes why not?”. you blurt out laughing playfully for good measure. 

“good good! I know what to do now. Have a nice day!”. you bow to her hoping she does as well. you walk out the classroom to see soobin standing on the wall next to the door smiling down at you like an idiot.

“what?”. you scoff. 

“have you ever had sex before?”. he asks casually as if he were asking you what your favorite cereal was. you shake your head no. 

“no. why?”. 

“do you want to?”. 

“what makes you think i’d want to do it with you? you’ve probably had sex with the whole school by now”. 

you scoff again walking away. he chases after you. 

“if that’s what you think then boy you’d be surprised by the truth”. 

“why are you even bothering? I’m a virgin it’s not like i’m some slut who can pleasure you and actually know what I’m doing”. 

“I can teach you”. he says confidently. 

“what?”. 

“It’s your senior year. I’m sure you don’t want to be a virgin for long. I mean, you can agree to let me teach you or i’d just might have to tell poor father benjam--”.

“alright! soobin. no need to go that far”. you adjust your backpack strap. 

“I’ll let you teach me. but where?”.

“my parents are having a church meeting tomorrow night. Meet me at my house around 7″.

[phykios]

honesty and promise me, part 5 [co-written with @darkmagyk] [read on ao3]

 Annabeth is making her periodic pilgrimage to the gynecologist when she gets Leo's call. It's very fitting--two uncomfortable and invasive things for the price of one. She answers her phone, ignoring the doctor's chastising frown. Surely she can place her new IUD while Annabeth deals with whatever Leo wants.

 "What are you doing on the 18th?" he asks, about the only type of hello she ever gets from Leo.

 The two of them never really grew out of pretending not to like each other, after they had gotten over their initial dislike. When he and Piper first got to Miss Minerva's, more or less straight out of juvie after Piper's dad made a lot of calls and called in a lot of favors, she and Leo had really hated each other. They used to fight over everything, from Piper's attention to the position of captain of the Mathletes team. And also, over Leo hating a rich white girl on principle, which, in retrospect, is totally fair. But then, by a weird twist of fate, they wound up in Boston together.

 If Annabeth had to choose between hanging out with her creepy, Norse mythology-obsessed uncle and hanging out with Leo, she'd pick Leo every time. They had gone through a lot together, things both big and small.

 "Of August?" she asks.

 "Please be still, Ms. Chase," says her doctor. Annabeth rolls her eyes.

 "Duh."

 Wracking her thoughts she can't think of any prior commitments she might have had. Maybe there's a concert that day, but if she can't remember, it probably wasn't that important anyway. "Not much."

 "Good, because we have plans."

 She frowns. "Piper didn't mention any--"

 "No, you and I have plans. I'll see you in Philly, yeah?"

 Philadelphia? Ew. "Why Philly?"

 "Our Smarter House thing won an award."

 "No shit?"

 "Eta Industries Award. The gala is on the 18th. You're my plus one."

 She sucks in air through her teeth, readjusting her hips as unobtrusively as possible. Eta Industries was… a very big deal. "Isn't that, like, an engineering specific award? Maybe you should accept it by yourself." She'd be better off staying out of the limelight for this one, she thinks, even as some part of her longs once again for recognition.

 Something electric whirs in the background, tinny and buzzing. "I'll see you on the 18th, then," says Leo, not having heard a word she said. "Also, you've been summoned to the castle."

 "Leo--" she jumps as the gyno touches something she really shouldn't have.

 "No arguments, she's expecting you today at two. Adios!" He clicks off.

 "Okay, Ms. Chase," says the doctor, a little too chipper for Annabeth's taste. "You should be all set."

 Annabeth leaves the doctor's office with her brand new IUD, a handful of medical literature which immediately gets tossed in the trash, and a sinking feeling in her gut as she gets on a train to Brooklyn, headed to Piper's place for another annoying and unnecessary fashion show. It's not that she doesn't enjoy being Piper's model--it's a position she's held since their time at Miss Minerva's, and it's never really a hardship to be told how gorgeous she is--but Piper has a way of just... getting information out of her that she doesn’t always want to share.

 Stopping off early, Annabeth gives herself a moment to walk down the Brooklyn Heights Promenade, to settle her nerves and indulge herself a bit. That skyline gets her every time.

 Turning down Pierrepont Street, she is once again struck by just how quiet the city can be. Manhattan is loud, rude, in-your-face, almost an entirely different world from the stately, deafeningly silent Brooklyn. For Annabeth, who is incapable of falling asleep without city horns blaring, it wigs her out a little.

 She barely has time to ring the doorbell on Piper's dad's place before the girl herself wrenches it open, grabbing Annabeth's hand and yanking her inside. "You're late!" she trills, suffering what Annabeth can only assume is the onset of a caffeine overdose.

 "I thought I had until two."

 "That was before I had the best idea."

 The brownstone is a mess, as per usual, reams of fabric tossed over every available surface, enough dressforms strewn about to make it look like Piper is hosting a party exclusively populated by headless zombies, adorned with a warehouse's worth of half-finished dresses and jackets. Based on the loud fabrics and structured angles, it looks like Piper is in the middle of a Klimt-ian phase of inspiration. Annabeth eyes a bright gold gown with a huge, extended collar, embroidered with silver eyes, the raw edges trailing the floor. "Please tell me this isn't your idea."

 "First of all," Piper releases her arm as they enter her kitchen-turned-photo studio, gingerly stepping over a box of assorted beads, "even though it would look amazing on you, that dress is for an actual paying client. Second of all--" she snatches up a dressform from its position behind the camera, setting it down in front of her with a flourish. "This is my idea."

 Annabeth was right--Piper is definitely on a Klimt-ian kick.

 Pulled straight from her art history classes, the dress looks like a two dimensional painting come to life, a stunning skirt like a column of liquid silver descending onto the black mat, pleats like fluted columns precisely draped over the dressform's hips… and not much else. Annabeth points. “Is that it?”

 Piper makes a face. "I have a bodice, promise. Now go take that shit off."

 Annabeth looks down at her repurposed The Police shirt, fished out of a thrift store bin some months ago, shirt collar cut and sides resewn to bring the waistline in. "I like this shirt."

 "Oh, I like the shirt plenty," she agrees. "But you could stand to wear a nicer pair of jeans."

 She does have a point there--her jeans are clinging to life at this point, the knees and hems all but obliterated, strings of fabric valiantly attempting to hold their original shape. "Fine. Be right back."

 When she emerges from the bathroom a minute later in just her bra and panties, Piper has laid out another bolt of fabric in that same color, silver with a blue shift beneath the studio lights. Piper, bent over with a strip of measuring tape, looks up at her, then squints. "So who is he?"

 Annabeth starts. "Excuse me?"

 "The guy you've been seeing."

 How... the fuck does Piper always know these things? "I don't know what you're talking about."

 She flicks her eyes down to Annabeth's thigh, Annabeth following her gaze to the remnants of the bruise that Percy had left there with his mouth two days ago. Dammit.

 Piper tsks, a smile distorting the sound. "Naughty, naughty, Annabeth."

 "How do you know it wasn't from a girl?" she asks, petulant.

 "Because if it had been a girl, you wouldn't be nearly so defensive."

 Shit. "We've been friends way too long," Annabeth grumbles.

 "That we have," says Piper. "And out of respect for our friendship, I will refrain from grilling you about him until you are more comfortable sharing."

 "So, for a few hours?"

 She shrugs. "More or less."

 "I suppose you want me to thank you for holding back."

 "Don't thank me yet," she grins, wide and toothy. "I've been cooped up here working on my collection for three days, and I am dying to talk to someone."

 Annabeth sighs, but obediently raises her arms, making room as Piper crouches down to pin the skirt on her. "Okay, you got me. I'm seeing this guy."

 "Seeing or seeing-seeing?"

 "Just seeing," she clarifies. "It's pretty casual."

 "Can't be that casual if you're telling me about it," Piper points out.

 Fuck. This is why she never tells Piper about her hookups. "You're the one who asked."

 "Another business bro, I assume?"

 "He's--" Piper swats at her as she automatically sucks her stomach in, their long held code for "stay put." "He's a dancer."

 She hums, arranging pleats over Annabeth's knees. "Like on Broadway?"

 "Ballet."

 Piper glances up at her, eyes sparkling. “Un danseur! Ooh la la,” she trills. “What’s his name?”

 “I can just leave,” Annabeth says, distinctly not thinking about how Percy will occasionally slip into French whenever he stubs his toe.

 “Okay, okay, no more boy talk.” Piper moves in front of her, adjusting the fabric about her waist. “Tell me about the thing you just won with Leo.”

 “I had honestly forgotten about it,” she says, lying a little, pulling her arms forward. “You remember his master’s thesis?”

 “The shmart kishen thing, right?” Piper asks around the tape measure in her mouth.

 Leo, the prodigal boy that he is, had spent his last year of school dedicated to a singular problem faced by people around the world: the sudden, out of control kitchen fire. Using very complicated electronics and engineering that Annabeth does not understand, he devised a handful of mechanisms to sense, contain, and ultimately douse random fires as soon as they popped up. Annabeth came on as his design partner after he had graduated and had gotten some funding to conceptualize an entire safe house.

 “Well, it just won an Eta Industries award.”

 Her head snaps up, hands freezing in their tracks. “Holy shit.”

 “Yeah.”

 “Congrats.”

 “Thanks,” she shrugs as Piper gets up to grab some more fabric. “I mean, it was mostly Leo’s doing. I just made sure he didn’t leave any stray pipes around.”

 Holding out her arms again, Piper slides them through the sleeves of a heavy, corset-like piece, structured and straight and very forgiving on Annabeth’s lack of curves. “You shouldn’t sell yourself short,” she says. “I’m sure your skills as a guinea pig were very valuable.”

 “Are you ever going to let that go?” Annabeth asks, she who has literally burnt pasta while it was submerged in water.

 “You’re just lucky my dad was out of town that weekend. Have you decided what you’re going to wear to the awards ceremony?”

 She shoots her friend a strange look. “I thought I was wearing this?” she gestures to the unfinished silver gown currently making her feel like an absolute goddess.

 Piper makes a face. “What do I look like, the fucking Flash? This isn’t going to be ready for another thirty hours, at least. I’ve got decals to add, Swarovskis to bead, not to mention all the hand-stitching on the neckline because for whatever reason my machine has decided to hate me this week.”

 “Okay, well,” says Annabeth, appropriately cowed, “then I guess I’ll wear the black one you gave me.”

 “2019 fall/winter?”

 Annabeth nods.

 “Styling?”

 “Luke gave me this really nice scarf for my birthday.”

 Throwing her head back, she groans.

 “What? What’s wrong?”

 “You’re so boring,” she moans, pulling Annabeth’s hair out of the way. “Let me guess, you’re going to pair it with the black shrug and opaque nude tights.”

 “Well… yeah, I was.”

 “Exactly! Boring.” Coming back around, she pushes Annabeth lightly into the light, before taking her place behind the camera. “You could do so much with that dress and you choose to make it boring. Why not some fishnets? Or a big statement necklace?”

 Annabeth waits after a few shutter clicks to answer. “Because I doubt that the people at Eta Industries are going to be big fans of my tattoos.”

 “That is a bald-faced lie and you know it,” Piper says. “Your tattoos and piercings are gorgeous and you would look absolutely rocking with them. Knock all the old farts right off their feet. Turn.”

 Obediently, Annabeth rotates, letting Piper snap off as many pictures as she likes. “This isn’t a Vogue event, Pipes,” she says, rolling her eyes where her friend can’t see them. “Punk isn’t exactly accepted practice yet.”

 “Punk was the Met Gala theme almost a decade ago, babe. It has filtered down from Vogue. It's practically cerulean now. Side.”

 Annabeth turns again, keeping her eyes straight. Side-eye would ruin the shot, no matter how much she wants to give it.

 “I will never understand why you both refuse to wear halfway decent jeans and then refuse to go guns out in my dresses that demand it. I can almost guarantee you that Leo will show up in those stupid suspenders with grease on his face. And you’ll have to get him to leave his tool belt in the car.”

 “Then it’s probably for the best that I have a modicum of professionalism, huh?”

 Piper leans out from behind the camera, glaring. “At the very least,” she hedges, “will you let me set you up with some shoes?”

 “I don’t know…”

 “You are not allowed to wear those horrid Manolo pumps you wear everywhere. And your nude Louboutins won’t look right with the black.”

 “What did you have in mind?”

 Piper’s grin is evil, and the way she scampers out of the room means she’s got something she’d been trying to force on Annabeth for a long time.

 Five minutes later, Annabeth is presented with a set of black strappy sandals, its edges detailed in a gold zipper, with safety pin pull to match. She frowns. “Are you sure? They look kind of… hardcore for something like this.”

 “They’re Versace,” Piper says. “I was not lying about punk’s democratization.”

 Well. They are pretty cool.

 “It’s either this or the McQueen boots. They have studs.”

 Annabeth sighs, holding out her hand. Piper squeals, bouncing a little, wrapping her in a brief, but exuberant hug, kissing her cheek with a loud, wet, smack. “You’re the best!”

 “I haven’t even done anything.”

 “I am saving up favors to cash in. Now,” she releases Annabeth, retreating behind the camera. “If you’ve got some time, can I borrow your head? I’m working on a helmet and all my mannequins are busy.”

 ***

 “Hey,” Percy begins. It is so late at night, the dawn is on the edge of breaking, and they are both exhausted from some particularly good sex. Which is saying something, because all their sex is particularly good. “You doing anything on the 18th?”

 “Yeah,” She says, distractedly, snuggling down into his bed. The fact that she’s also snuggling into him is just a coincidence.

 “Oh.”

 “Why?”

 “Nothing. Was going to invite you to a thing if you weren’t.” She nods her head against his shoulder and falls asleep in his arms, thinking absolutely nothing about it.

 She continues to think nothing of it on the train to Philadelphia on the 18th, half-asleep and listening to Paramore to pass the time, blasting Misery Business on repeat as she changes in her hotel room.

 The Eta Industries event is pretty much exactly what she expected: a lot of old rich white people milling about, sipping champagne and verbally circle jerking each other, the insipid strains of classical music spilling out of the ballroom as Annabeth steps up to claim her name tag. “Name?” asks the young, college-aged girl, skimming her printed guest list over the rim of her glasses.

 “Annabeth Chase.”

 She runs a long fingernail over the assorted collection of name tags, before settling on the correct one, handing it to Annabeth, her star tattoo on the inside of her wrist free and open to anyone who would care to look. “Here you are, Ms. Chase,” she says, smiling. “Have a wonderful night!”

 Automatically, Annabeth goes to pin it on Luke’s scarf, before she remembers that something is already occupying that place--Percy’s Acropolis pin. She had taken to keeping it in her pocket these days, something of a good luck charm, and thought that it might… she doesn’t know, maybe send a subconscious signal to Percy that she’s thinking of him. Even though there is, quite literally, no way he could know, she hopes that maybe he can sense it, and that maybe he’s thinking about her, too.

 Ugh. She snatches up a flute of champagne from a wandering waiter, eager to get that thought out of her head, making a beeline straight for the refreshments table. It’s there that Leo finds her, not five minutes later, munching on some chocolate covered strawberries.

 “And here I thought you might ditch me entirely,” he says, even as he bumps her shoulder. True to form, he is absolutely, 100% dressed in those stupid suspenders, a smudge of grease behind his ear.

 “You’ve got a…” Annabeth trails off, motioning behind her own ear.

 “Huh? Oh!” He snatches up a napkin, rubbing discreetly. “Thanks.”

 She squints. Something about him is distinctly different. “Are you taller?”

 Kicking out a foot, he wiggles it, triumphant. “Platform shoes.”

 “Seriously?”

 “Hey, if they're good enough for Robert Downey Jr., then they’re good enough for me. After all, I am Ir--”

 She groans, good-natured, taking another gulp of champagne. “If you quote Marvel in your speech, I’m leaving.”

 “Fine by me, Your Highness, they’ll give me the award either way.”

 “Excuse me, Mr. Valdez?” The same college girl from before sidles up to them, clipboard clutched in her hand. “They’re about to start.”

 He claps his hands, rubbing them together. “Excellent. You coming?”

 “I…” She casts her gaze to the makeshift stage they’ve constructed, eyeing the bright “Eta Industries” placard, the sharp angles shiny and alluring, the siren-song of recognition.

 This is a big deal. There are photographers in the audience. In the write-ups and reviews, she would be listed as a co-winner of the award, a co-designer of the world’s safest house, a thought so happy she practically starts flying.

 “I think I should stay out of the limelight for this one, Leo,” she says, politely. “This is your moment. I don’t want to ruin it.”

 He frowns. “You sure?”

 Were it not for the fact that people were watching, Annabeth would have leapt up onto that stage without a second thought, snatching up the trophy like she had just won the Oscar, holding it up like the goddamn Olympic torch. “What, you want a white woman stealing your glory?” she says instead, arching a brow.

 “You get a pass this one time,” he quips, holding out his hand. “Don’t make me regret it.”

 Whatever social grace she has left crumbles. She’s denied it enough--she wants to be up there. “Oh, fine. Since you insist,” she says, following clipboard-girl to the stage.

 There’s a quick burst of feedback, then an elderly gentleman at the podium begins speaking into the mic. “Excuse me--sorry about that. Yes, yes, thank you all for coming tonight to the annual Eta Industries awards presentation ceremony. It is always such a pleasure to come together with our hard-working and generous board members and shareholders to honor the best and brightest upcoming talent in engineering.”

 Internally, she rolls her eyes. Rich people.

 “It is my pleasure, however, to introduce the young man who is the recipient of this year’s Millennium Prize for innovation and safety. One of MIT’s youngest and most decorated graduates, he was a recipient of the Mead Prize for Students, the Friedman Young Engineer Award, and the Collingwood Prize, among several others. His master’s thesis, ‘Towards the Design and Implementation of Autonomous Safety Measures in Commercial Kitchens,’ formed the basis of the project which we recognize tonight, the so-called ‘SmartSafe House,’ reflects the pioneering spirit and outstanding creative vision of not only Eta Industries, but also the field of engineering as a whole. Please join me in congratulating this year’s Millennium Prize recipient, Leo Valdez.”

 From the sidelines, she claps enthusiastically with the rest of the crowd as her friend takes the stage, shakes hands with the Vice President of Eta Industries, and accepts the award, a blue, blocky triangle which almost seems to glow in the light of the ballroom. “Thank you, Mr. Helms. This is--this is a really big honor.”

 She can see him shaking a bit, taking a quick drink from his water glass. Public speaking was never really his strong suit.

 “As--as a lot of you probably know, this project is very near and dear to my heart. Growing up in Houston with my mother, a car mechanic, I was eight years old when her beloved shop went up in flames, like that.” He snaps his fingers, his other hand pressed to the podium where no one can see, joints white with pressure. Annabeth is proud of him--he hasn’t been able to speak this candidly about it in years. She knows firsthand how much his mother’s near-death haunts him still. “Thankfully, we were able to rebuild, and my mother went on to bigger and better things--including a shop with cleaner vents. But I can definitely pinpoint that moment as the day I knew I wanted to make the world a safer place, for my mom, if not for everyone else.”

 She remembers, so clearly, that snowy night in the dorms at Miss Minerva’s. The power had gone out, and Leo had made them an illicit campfire out of their trash bin and Annabeth’s failed English exam. Cold and miserable and with dying phones, they passed the time instead telling scary stories and funny memories, until the conversation had gotten suddenly, intensely real.

 “But I would be remiss,” he goes on, cheerful, “if I didn’t acknowledge my friend and collaborator, without whose work I wouldn’t be here today: Annabeth Chase,” he waves to his side, indicating her. The whole crowd, as one, turns their gazes on her. She straightens up, imperceptibly, hoping she doesn’t look too haughty or anything. “I’ve never been very good with people. My mama says I’m just like my dad that way. Give me a car, or a computer, or pages of multiplication tables, and I’m golden. But people?” He blows out a breath, and the crowd chuckles, naturally. “Now, if it had been left up to me, the SmartSafe House would have been a top of the line, cutting-edge metal box, efficient to a fault, but completely unlivable. Thank God I had Annabeth on my team to remind me what the project was really about: a home that families could feel safe in, so that what happened to me and my mom might never happen to anyone else.” He hoists his award above his head, leaning into the mic. “Ma, este es para ti. Thank you all.”

 Stepping down from the stage, they reenter the crowd, ready to receive adoration. In another life, she might have been embarrassed by such praise. Here and now, however, she takes each handshake and word of congratulations like a starving man in a desert who just came across an oasis, hungry and greedy.

 Hey, it’s her night, too.

 After what feels like a whole-ass sixty minutes of shaking old people's hands and polite nodding, though, she is in desperate need of a break. Escaping the throng of mingling bodies, she darts into a dark corner of the ballroom, leaning against the back of a rounded stone column, just barely out of sight of the party.

 Rubbing her hands over her face, she sighs, just short of a scream. Blowing out all her air, she lets the faint music and fake laughs melt into each other, becoming white noise, a blank canvas, empty of concrete thoughts and feelings.

 Then, her ear picks up a strand of conversation.

 “...announcing tomorrow that the CEO of Pallas Inc. is choosing a successor,” a woman says, the sneer in her voice almost visible. “About time.”

 “I thought she already picked a successor,” says the woman’s conversation partner, a man with the kind of cookie-cutter cadence that she heard every time she took a business major to bed. “Pallas is a family business, isn’t it?”

 “You haven’t heard?” Annabeth can almost picture it, the furtive glance around the room, the woman placing her hand on her partner’s arm, leaning in to share a juicy secret. “Supposedly she was grooming her daughter for the role, before she went in for rehab.”

 “Rehab? Really?”

 “What else could it be?” says the woman. “She’s disappeared off the face of the earth, and her mother refuses to talk about her. Let’s be honest, if she were dead, she would have raised a bigger stink about it.”

 Annabeth closes her eyes, sucking air in through her teeth. That… wasn’t totally untrue.

 But the woman doesn’t stop. “It’s always the same story,” she scoffs. “You throw countless hours of schooling and millions of dollars into girls like her, and what do they do? Turn around and blow it all on drugs and partying. Honestly, she should be grateful her mother is even bothering with her rehab at all. Hasn’t she wasted enough of the family’s money already?”

 Blood roars in her ears, drowning out the fancy party. Sharp points dig into her palm, pinpricks of pain, before she realizes that they’re her own fingernails.

 The lady has got it all wrong. Her mom couldn’t even be bothered with that.

 Luke’s scarf, the shrug, it’s choking her, suffocating and constricting. Percy’s pin feels heavy on her chest.

 Blinders on, she would have sprinted for the exit were it not for the Piper’s stupid Versace heels, reduced instead to a teetering, tottering wreck, like a baby colt running from a predator. The night is hot and humid, heavy with the threat of rain, and Annabeth can barely breathe, dark spots in her eyes, until she ducks into a nearby Target, the frigid blast of air a welcome distraction.

 Almost in a daze, she watches herself pick up a few things--clippers, an electric razor, beef jerky, a blue Gatorade she considers for a moment before putting it back, choosing a lemonade instead--practically throwing them at the poor cashier who begins checking her out, mechanically. He doesn’t spare her a single glance for her odd assortment of items. He doesn’t even look at her at all.

 The walk to her hotel room disappears in the blink of an eye. Blink--she breezes past the check-in counter, slipping into the empty elevator. Blink--she kicks off her heels in her room, nearly hitting the wall mirror, leaving a scuff mark on the white plaster. Blink--she’s down to her underwear and tights in the bathroom, shaving the right side of her curls clean off. She’d gotten them professionally done for the night, perfect spirals held together by expensive products. And now she wants them gone.

 She pauses and breathes too hard, looking at herself in the mirror. Her mother didn’t like that she was blonde. Maybe because of dumb blonde stereotypes, maybe just because it reminded Athena too much of her failed romance with Annabeth’s dad. And that thought stays her hand from getting rid of the rest of them.

 That, and maybe the idea of Percy, of some broke dancer, tangling his fingers in it as they lie together.

 Fuck her mother, and the fucking stories she tells.

 She likes it. She likes her blonde hair and her fresh undercut.

 She can get Thalia to touch this up later, maybe. Now, though, she needs this.

 It doesn’t look perfect. The left side of hair is too long, her gold laurel earrings too fancy for a homegrown haircut like this, her makeup too pristine. Shoving her hand under the running water, she rubs at her eyes, mascara and eyeliner smearing until they’ve reached something much more respectable for the failure that she really is.

 She misses her industrial. And her eyebrow rings. And the tongue piercing. But this will have to do for now.

 Breathing heavily, eyes hot, she doesn’t register her phone blinking, signaling an unread text message.

 It’s from Thalia. surprised you weren’t at kelp heads bday party, it reads. was pretty boring. Kno he missed you