#banter. he hates it he denies it but deep down he can’t bring himself to get rid of sonic

[catgirlkirigiri]

I simply think that Robotnik should get to have a moment where he’s made painfully aware that Sonic is a child. And it doesn’t make him change paths, of course, but he starts to hold back a bit. Sonic may be his biggest enemy, but he’s just a kid. And Robotnik may be evil, he may be cruel, he may be everything that isn’t good, but he isn’t going to kill this child. After all these years? He can’t. That’s his kid now, as much as he hates to even think it.

[sugar-petals]

🌹 Sub!SuperM 18+ HC: Riding Their Faces

↳ NOTE. These guys... I swear. Bringing some heat to the dash right here. Enjoy the SuperMadness 👀

word count. 3.7k | bullet points | ot7

WARNINGS. ⚠️  all explicit, cum play, latex, hair & sweat kink, bondage, spit, brat taming, toys, breath play, ass fixation going strong, dominant reader, femdom, degradation, hardcore, veins kink, graphic language, strap-ons, crying kink, clothed sex, some crack

⌜ 💋  byun baekhyun ⌟

▸ strength: energy

not for the faint of heart. baekhyun thoroughly enjoys you giving it to him roughly; it’s the leader being led, how sexy is that

i spy with my femdom eye, baekhyun likes the bossy dommes who bring him to his knees — quite literally.

case in point: hates seeing you hold back. tells you to just bounce on him how you want it. no fumbling around, it’s gotta be hot and proper.

whatever you’re insecure about he hasn’t even noticed. the more confidently you’re taking your designated seat, the better. this shit’s gotta make him all loud and squeaky, baekhyun can’t get enough of your wild and demanding side. “don’t you dare move your hands!” — he’s already hooked.

yep, he’s part of the feral squad. and louder than the bass in jopping for that matter

small as hell face but the jaw is sharp, you can literally feel it, he fits between your legs so well

endless breath. put your pussy all over that nose, grind on it, cum all over him. society will thank you for suffocating a millionaire

like seriously the breath play is off the charts. if he’s into asphyxiation you’d not be surprised

meanwile baek’s naughty hips keep on bucking, like hello there, giving you a cheeky 69 invitation

such a cocky little shit, whiny byun all the way from those ruined orgasms he’ll be getting cuz you might just touch him with two fingers at best, you know how to keep him on his toes

swallows everything he’s like whatever, almost chokes because he’s so messy and greedy to taste you. damn baekhyun

does a “mmhhhnnn...!” sound all the time, this guy has pussy all over his face and is still more vocal than you no matter what you do

eats ass, all day if he can, knows the most shocking techniques, wants to get crushed by booty he’ll end up admitting it. no matter how big or small yours is. because remember, that face is small, everything is big to him

the type to cum on his stomach way before you do. groans a lot, then goes on even more intensely, how the hell did he just leak out five ounces of semen and still manage a whole tongue workout

slobbery and all over the place, those are tongue movements you can’t even think of in your wildest dreams

baekhyun is never content just making you cum once or just really lowkey, much less hearing you being silent. he’s a moodmaker, he naturally wants to hear you, and see you twitch like the world ends for goodness sake

brattiest tongue ever, always pulls out the taunting puppy licks, tries to grope you all the time, he’ll get a rough spanking later believe me

also gets his payback from you being crazy wet, as beautiful and cute his face might be it’s gonna end up damn ruined

not gonna lie his voice acrobatics will turn you into a waterfall that’s coming down on him

you can punish him for teasing by going raw with your hips, mochi is in wonderland, seeing stars. put his wrists in a spreader bar and go off is what i’m saying, YOLO

since baekhyun annoys the members by being so hyper in the evening, they appreciate you knocking him out for sleep. and indeed baekhyun dozes like a baby, probably using your ass as a pillow or something

you’ve drained the shit out of him and um watered the flower that is his face, so

another cupcake down, mission success, baekhyun certainly had his fill not to mention lucky you having to deal with his wildly talented mouth ahem, moral of the story annihilate him with your ass

⌜ 💋  lee taemin ⌟

▸ strength: steaminess

you will come (heh) to discover that none of his lyrics were a lie

yeah he’s busy hot boy shit for his gal

taemin has an all-soft and plush tongue that’s super pinkish. it literally feels so good, how to ever get enough of it holy shit

it also happens to be very long so buckle up, he wants to be deep inside of you, serve and please you

probably the most slow and agile movement in the group, tantalizing is the right word for sure

prefers kissing and sucking over just licking because he’s sappy, good on him and good on you those lips are heaven and need to be used by all means

once you go on the pill, taemin will eat his own creampies straight out of you, maybe even two at once, it’s taemin c’mon he’s above-average horny lord knows how much sperm he’s hoarding

loves drowning it seems

raunchy stuff aside, he always dresses up nicely or wears the fluffy sweaters you like the most on him. what an exclusive ride, the scent of the clothing turns you on even more he’s pulling all the registers taemin is so docile and giggly

most sensual style in the group, will edge and give you goosebumps first before the main course even remotely goes down, taemin thinks in several stages hot damn he calculated this 

his face heats up so much it’s crazy, then again kkoongie capitalizes on all the warmth from the radiator so you might as well be taemin’s personal heating alright. it’s fun seeing him sweat like mad, see his neck veins bulge... ugh 

is gonna be a provocateur and try to nibble on your folds, man he just wants to get slapped around you can see right through this brat’s rowdy plan

might even want his ass played with while you ride his face so prepare for some intense contortions, fingering, butt plugs, prostate massage, the whole array, gladly taemin is flexible

always pulls it off hands-free because he’s a pro and well yeah he’s always tied up how um totally surprising

and any challenge he will meet that i guarantee you

he has immediately apparent shinee concert stamina, longevity like his career, taemin can lend his face to your purposes for the whole night he doesn’t care if he needs to chuck it in the freezer afterwards

bonus: if taemin doesn’t at some point wear one of his glittery masks for sexy time, somebody is probably impersonating him and it’s not the real lee taemin i’m afraid

so many orgasms you’ll stop counting, one blends into the other, even if you’re not moving much, how does he do it

that being said gee can we just appreciate how beautiful his face is, everything about him, it’s gonna be so sexy and soft to kiss him to sleep oh my god

⌜ 💋  kim jongin ⌟

▸ strength: escalating

just how industrious is he? dammit kai is the rent due or something, this shit is not a comeback stage cool down

jongin is needy as fuck, he’s desperate to taste you especially in the morning when his lips are all plump

since then he’s skipped his skin care routine you do the bulk of the moisturizing you see

jokes aside get ready for whimpery kai thrusting his face right into you because he can, should you need something to hold onto, his thighs are literally right there

constant high-pitched moans, some during quick pauses, others stifled, kai are you okay he’s really going all out 

so thirsty

if you don’t put a harness on him for this you’re missing out, also you need something to hold this wild slutty motherfucker in place

rock-hard throughout, harder than a goddamn superm choreography

also: sturdy chin that can take a lot, it’s made to be sat on

does a lot of the work, very active, main dancer vibes you know, you can be lazy and just enjoy

most continuous style in the group, gradually getting more and more passionate and nervous — the second you thought it gets boring he goes off, have fun losing your mind and seeing him basically K.O. himself

if he wants to make you cum, rapid tongue jabs deep into your clit, and his hard breath against it, no fair play in here

absolutely has a thing for your shaking thighs, like what the hell he’s blowing a huge load the more you tremble, and he’s goddamn crying from pleasure every time woah

those big ole lips are an absolute treat, yeah i’ll say it again his face is meant for this

wants to be called all kinds of names wow jongin, it just spurs him more

kai. is. so. good. 

you can most definitely film your own POV cam, jongin can put on one hell of a show. just this time it’s not his eyes flirting with the camera, it’s his tongue getting a nice rough treatment oh yum

don’t get me wrong he can deliver a romantic version of this, but kai just likes you being tough on his face he can’t deny it

uses his hands so you can ride him even harder, all his teddy bears will be falling off the bed like dominoes

might one day ascend to heaven while giving head, wouldn’t regret it

can do it until complete exhaustion you guys just pass out

being such an oral workaholic do i sense a masochist streak in him there? 

fucking typical capricorn

⌜ 💋  wong yukhei ⌟

▸ strength: appetite

first off yukhei is hilarious

it’s called eating out and that’s exactly what he does duh, he’s not nicknamed foodcas for no reason — the restaurant is open my dear, and he just served himself five courses (you)

gets super sweaty, forehead and down the neck, a 6′0 glazed bun can you imagine

giggles a lot, makes the atmosphere relaxed, loves banter before and after, an allround sweet experience

though beware, this guy is hungry. most prone to open his mouth super wide he wants to eat all of you at once

don’t tell kun how nasty he is, much less leader baekhyun, promise me that

and especially nosy kai should not hear about what sexy shit yukhei is doing in his freetime unless you want to trigger a war 

that being said the wayv dorm is still the safest place to sit on his face, so. it’s a lawless land there, nobody gives a fuck anymore at this point. yangyang would not even blink if ten murdered someone in cold blood on the balcony, that’s how the atmosphere there can be best described

lucas being a far more harmless himbo still ironically fits into the environment being so sexually insatiable, just how often are you going to fuck? it’s only natural to lose the overview

he loudly pouts and complains when it ends, wants to go on and on, you need a lotta stamina to get with this guy this is not a warning it’s a fact — yukhei really wants to tire himself out and give everything

if you lower your thighs just a little you can feel his dangly earrings. kinda sexy but also a safety concern i know i know, he’s not gonna wear them next time 

noisy as heck, wants to do well, always goes the extra mile to be sure you are all happy and satisfied with today’s dining

his tongue is... big...

we’re not gonna talk about that giant bulge either, such a huge tent in those pants it’s a whole camping ground. anyway

what we’ll talk about. his super soft blonde hair, we’re talking salon quality soft, that’s amazing to feel against your legs, it’s great to pull as well, or to twirl really playfully

though there’s not much playful going down when the initial inhibition drops

he’s not made of glass you can really get those hips going

sliding down his nose when you’re all wet... damn good stuff.

lucas is the kinda guy that has you grunting and gritting he loves your reactions, and how aggressive you can get. usually he’s the reaction king but like this? he can get used to it.

totally into having that kinda frog perspective it’s a whole new thing, he’s such a giant now he’s below you, the sight is just superb to him

less likely to have toys involved, but rather a bunch of rope for his chest, his arms, his long ass legs. yukhei is a bondage insider tip y’all

stable as a block of metal. if you go a little too wild on baekhyun he’s probably gonna break his mochi neck but lucas is a different calibre, this mf is made of giant muscles galore, i can only say one thing: finish him

⌜ 💋  mark lee ⌟

▸ strength: speed

talks a lot, even occasionally curses — instantly apologizing, but you curse right back, so this becomes the cussing olympics at some point, taeyong would bury his face in the ground all his parenting efforts have gone to waste

mark basically chokes himself

he can’t control his spit by all means jesus... in his own words: must be the drip then

next to taemin and baekhyun here we have the third drowning victim, mark is in serious need of multiple tissues or towels afterwards but that’s exactly what he likes

mark’s slutty side is not to be underestimated i’m warning you

that’s a healthy young man right here

loves to do quickies to get you off during daytime, if you’re horny just tell him and he’ll find a quiet spot, might do it on his knees rather than you riding him sometimes for practical reasons 

all options open, mark is flexible af. if someone can promote with nct dream and superm at the same time that’s the result

so yeah you’ll experiment with positions and even outfits, what’s the most comfortable to wear? 

few people even remotely think about this. mark himself stays in his signature sweater but the glasses come off, you know very well he’s a nerd without them he has nothing to prove lmao!

the clothes will be cozy but don’t let that fool you yet alright

this guy has watched too much porn to just keep it light and cute

don’t get me wrong you can baby him ad nauseam for the more gentle femdom moods

but at the end of the day mark loves some intense shit, he likes feisty girls who aren’t coy and subby, the more perverted you are the better, in fact he enjoys being shocked with brazen attitude and getting orders on what to do.

loves it when you to take it all out on him, rough is good. mark lee’s face is the rodeo range of super m alright, just don’t break his glorious jaw or anything, he still needs it okay

but yeah mark’s face is tempting to ride hard not gonna lie

his tongue can go so fast it’s at the speed of sound, no, the speed of fucking light. mark goes crazy on your clit, wait a few seconds, boom five orgasms rain down on you. 

it’s like an anime swordsman just lifting the sword hilt, walking off calmly, and one minute later things are in shambles like how? mark’s sword tech is just epic like that

he’s a leo what did we expect, show-off

in the meantime, RIP to mark lee’s pants. they’ll be soaked with cum, gonna be a bitch to hide your clothes from taeyong who’s always eager to wash everything by himself

that aside, mark really enjoys the position, he doesn’t need much else to be honest, he goes “oh my god oh shit” enough for you to know

thank god he’s a rapper, otherwise his dang technique would be dangerous, he doesn’t breathe for half a minute or so

enjoys you really doing shallow thrusts, super fast and sloppy, loves how much you enjoy it

needless to say: breaks a guinness world record for most licks per second, it’s that mark lee flow

long story short his face is your favorite spot he can prepare for a daily session

all that practice on water melons paid off good job markly

⌜ 💋  ten lee ⌟

▸ strength: allround skill

you know a pro by how he’s offering you a tall glass of water beforehand

and by the way he’s chugging one himself

champion, a keeper

you’re guaranteed to love it, ten is amazing

takes his time, gets to know your every inch, figures out your soft spots in a matter of minutes to seconds

everything for his sexy mama, service sub right here

take him on a leash, grind on his lips, make him kiss your clit, he’ll respond by circling his tongue around obediently

chittaphon might be a little fidgety at the beginning, but the atmosphere is not as tense anymore after doing it two or three times. 

ten is actually quite good cracking lighthearted jokes and showing his more extroverted side, he always gets like that with a partner. 

you have an easy time with build-up conversations and communicating in general, same with aftercare pillow talk

that being said the degree of professionalism this guy is heading for needs a lot of talk in the first place. 

ten likes doing advanced things that aren’t just intuitively understood, you need to exchange yourself a lot

through trial and error you figure out how to incorporate sex toys into the little routine you have going on

the pleasure will be so intense you’ll never want anything else fuck

ten is also down for a lot of moving around, some athletic shit

you’ll go from bouncing on his dick to smothering his face back and forth pretty much, let’s see how fast you’re gonna bust a huge nut like that my bet is five minutes

those like “oh... ah—” moans are just angelic

since he focuses so much on your erogenous zones and always keeps his hands involved, ten is always guaranteed to have you breaking a major sweat

ten does not like to eat any fruits, they say. well that’s true, because he’s too busy eating you that is. boy can basically retire from citizenhood, he’s that busy between your legs. 

enough fruit juice for an entire week impending, don’t worry about his nutrients, this is also a form of diet.

uses his chin, his cheeks, the nose especially, the damn nose it’s perfectly shaped

wants you to really ride him hard, and fast, no holds barred at all, going so feral he’ll be squeezing his eyes shut

sometimes his hair gets in the way, it’s just so damn long. the result: hair ties for face-sitting, always on his wrist

among all members, buries his face the deepest, turns him on so much

always makes sure you’re both washed up, no impromptu sessions. ten is a hygiene priest and he’s right

the mattress is kinda bouncy and he always uses his favorite soft pillow under his head so you can definitely take mister ten lee to pound town like work your hips give it to him

in case he survives i send my congrats, you got yourself the right guy, terrific choice queen

⌜ 💋  lee taeyong ⌟

▸ strength: ideas

how much more religiously can he eat you out, he treats this like the best reward he can get

as you can probably tell by now, all the lee surname members are definitely a certain brand and clan of highly distinguished pussy eaters like, these guys are a fucking gang like... well taeyong is no different

reckless abandon oral, eats you like it’s the last day, even death fears lee taeyong when he’s in giving head mode

you might be showering together beforehand and be all shy and kissy like it’s puppy love. but that is all for naught when the tongue of god is unleashed and taeyong gets himself as messed up as he can

yeah i like the thought of god being incarnated as kinky taeyong begging to have his mouth spit and cummed in it just makes sense

very deep mumbles, very hard breathing, those veiny hands on your waist, he wants to make you feel good so bad, fuck he’s so sexy

intense facial expressions, need i say more

also um... he likes to be... threatened. he’s the student you’re the teacher, strict as hell surveying his every move, the more you yell at him the harder he gets, jesus christ he has a thing for you acting mad and shit

taeyong doesn’t even need you to pull off your underwear, he’s gone get through any type of fabric with that leaking mouth

let’s just say he likes to experiment with innovative techniques... anyway, taeyong is a nasty fucking freak, he’s a grade A hoe, you never know what to expect

one time he just licks like a shy doe, the next second slurping explosion 5000

imagine whipping his thighs with a riding crop while sitting right on that ultra gorgeous elven prince face like

taeyong is almost always getting super emotional. he sheds even more tears than kai, like at some point you’ll develop a crying kink because of him SOS

nervous as hell, shaky hands. that can easily be fixed sir let’s tie em up

has you moaning nonstop, he’s so engaged and so dead-on with his movements. don’t be surprised if this damned man has your eyes almost falling out

beware, this guy is into full-on sensual deprivation as well. blindfolds are only the start. 

you might end up with a whole lotta black latex involved, who knows, a whole gimp on him he’s down for that, he learned from ten what it is blame chittaphon’s vast kinky knowledge

even better: while you’re grinding on him, taeyong likes you pumping his cock with a fleshlight with zero mercy until he yelps in tiny oops

hell he might ask you to roughly fuck his face with a strap and then ride it, the mister likes double treats huh

then again: wants it to be degrading and dirty and intense on some days, and really wholesome and romantic on others

especially aftercare will be sweet and dulcet, you take care of him, pepper him with kisses for being such a dutiful boy.

looks pretty no matter what. maybe he’s born with it maybe it’s tyongbelline. yeah just how handsome is that face and hair like... t’yongreal paris in full splendor

long story short he’s an oral deity. i rest my case howdy and goodbye see you next time aye

superm masterlist

© submissive-bangtan 2017-2021. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate. all depictions fictional.

[dropsofletters]

the whisper in the obvious [bbh]

—summary: she hasn’t had enough time in her life to date because of her work. in order to fill the void of romantic intimacy and domesticity, she lurks online for brief videos or recordings to make her feel better. it works for a while, much more when she finds a man who does boyfriend roleplays—blue moon. it’s not like she’ll ever get to know him, right?

baekhyun doesn’t have much luck in romance. whoever he dates end up either cheating on him or turning their dates into the worst date of his life. growing older by the day, without someone by his side and a job that he hates, he creates a patreon account where he pretends to be people’s boyfriends…blue moon, he has called himself. it’s not like someone he knows will look him up, right?

they’re completely wrong, that’s for sure.

—title: the whisper in the obvious —pairing: byun baekhyun x reader —genre: friends who banter to crushes to lovers!au ; anonymous asmrtist!au ; technician!au ; doctor!au ; meet messy!au —type: fluff ; humor ; angst ; suggestive ; slowburn —word count: 18,768 —warnings: mentions of sex (though the act is never shown on the narrative on itself), alcohol, some descriptions of sicknesses and wounds but nothing graphic.

This is downright pathetic.

Aching limbs flail on each side of her body as she lays on her bed, splayed much like a star as her eyes set on the ceiling. Her earbuds let a manly, somewhat lighthearted voice breathe out words in a faceless manner, straight from a monthly subscription to a Patreon account. Had anyone told her that the only way she could ever get the relief of having a relationship when she became an adult was going to be through a man speaking softly into a microphone about how her day was and what she had eaten, giving vague answers whatsoever, she would have probably given them a laugh.

But life is laughing now, because time runs too quickly during the day when she works in the ER, and it has been well over two years since the last time she had any kind of physical touch with a man. Period. Most times, she doesn’t need it—what can be done by a man to her body can be done by herself much easier, but the kind of warmth that comes from a cuddling session after a tiring day and the endless conversations that come with having someone by her side that she wholeheartedly trusts, only to receive a kiss of comfort at the very end, has long died in her routine.

Now, all she has left is the company of some stranger that has a quite wide fanbase for his boyfriend roleplays—pathetic, she wants to call herself once again, but Blue Moon Whispers does the trick. She gets a boyfriend that she doesn’t have to talk to throughout the day, that cares for her like no one will and a plus, of course, that she’s not the only one that spends money on a man doing this for her.

Pathetic. Pathetic. Pathetic.

Yet, she closes her eyes, tries to even out her breaths when Blue Moon speaks into the microphone. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.” He drags the last few words, a sigh following his statement before he chuckles softly. “My job is so boring. I’m really good at it, but…I don’t know, it’s not what anyone would want to do for the rest of their lives.”

She tries not to wonder about his workplace. Maybe, he’s a nine-to-five worker, or with that voice, he could be one of those telephone workers that pick up sex-lines calls in order to please other people. She could imagine it, there’s some mischief in his tone that tells her he’s not just quite as sweet as his voice recordings.

Humming, she tugs her covers up her neck, listening to more of what he says.

“But enough about me, how was work for you?” Terrible. Working as a doctor is far more difficult than studying for it, and she felt like tugging at her eyeballs when being in med school. Constantly being screamed at by specialists and being questioned by family members when she gives a diagnosis is not quite what she imagined, and her blood pressure is up the roof when she has to save someone last minute. Tonight, she had a patient with atherosclerosis have a heart attack and it was quite possibly the most stressful time of the day. The patient is alive, thankfully.

“I see…” Almost as if he has heard her internal rant, Blue Moon responds. “But I’m here to distract you, aren’t I?” His voice drops at that moment, pressing a kiss into the microphone that has a smile appearing on her features. Okay. Pathetic, has she said that already? She feels like a teenager at this point. “What do you want to watch tonight?”

Her voice gets caught in her throat when she thinks of the first show that comes to mind.

“The Rookie, right?”

Wait, how did he know what kind of show she wanted to watch?

Blue Moon was, quite possibly, the only man that had fit her just right…and that comes from someone who pays a stranger on Patreon to get her dose of domesticity. Her past boyfriends, though not many, always felt lacking. Assholes, for the most part, she adores someone who shows their true colors at the very end and they end up being the most rancid shade of poop-colored brown. The sarcasm is ever present, but all her past boyfriends have been close to pieces of shit, if not entirely so.

It’s not a surprise that she did not try again. Her thirties are only getting closer and she can’t bring herself to put her dating profile out there again. It’s scary, downright stupid and she knows that it won’t ever end well.

“Let me cuddle closer to you—”

Someone shouts her name at the top of her lungs in a sing-song tone, and she recognizes the deep voice quite well. Chohee, her friend and next-door neighbor, is the only person to use her spare key for whatever excuse she has inside her head and invite herself inside her apartment as if she pays half the rent. Just as her fingers fiddle to get her earphones out, sitting up on the bed with widened eyes, Chohee opens the door, pushing her long black hair off her shoulder.

“I brought some cheeseburgers—” At the steady rise and fall of her chest and her disheveled hair—in her defense, today’s day of work had been hell—, Chohee stops speaking. “Were you watching porn?”

What is easier in this ungodly situation of adult life, to admit that she’s hearing a man speaking into her ear while pretending to be her boyfriend, or that she is watching something quite relatively normal? “Yeah.” The latter is easier. She doesn’t want Chohee peeping into her stuff.

Chohee purses her thin lips coated in a glimmer of gloss. “Do you want me to leave you to it or…?”

Well, that option was awkward as well. She could’ve denied both. Shit.

“No, it’s fine. I—It’s not…It wasn’t…It wasn’t doing the trick, I guess.” Locking her phone, she pushes it underneath her pillow before patting the spot in front of her. Chohee takes it without much of a question on the tip of her tongue.

“I hate when that happens.” With that, Chohee tugs at her phone, trying to unlock it—and fuck, she really does know the password. “But I’ve been subscribing to OnlyFans accounts instead. There are some really cute guys there—”

Alert. Red alert. She can’t let Chohee look at the most simplistic of intimacy in the form of an online boyfriend, that only lasts a few minutes to an hour with her. “Uh, Chohee, you don’t have to.”

“No, girl, I have to.” Chohee says, splaying the plastic bag of cheeseburgers on the bed just as she’s reaching forward for her. The taller woman ducks back, trying to unlock her phone. “You haven’t been with a man in a while, I need to help you make your alone time as worthy as possible. I think—”

“Chohee, don’t check my phone.”

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I’ve seen dicks. You have definitely seen dicks.” Chohee rolls her eyes just as she takes her phone in between her fingers, but never does she once relent on letting go of it, tugging at it instead. “What’s the problem?”

“I just don’t want you to look at it.”

“But why are you so ashamed? It’s really nothing you should be embarrassed about—”

Between the tugging back and forth, her phone clashes against the flooring, enough to make her widen her eyes when she sees it falling face down. “Shit.” She curses, ignoring the apologies that rake from Chohee’s vocabulary when she lowers herself to pick it up.

The screen is broken and when her thumb presses on the button, the screen lights up in different colors of the rainbow, and she can’t even see the lock-screen.

“Is it broken?”

She scoffs. “Shattered. Broken. Destroyed. What’s another synonym?”

“In my defense,” Chohee says and the chewing that comes soon after tells her that she’s already diving into those cheeseburgers. “You were the one hiding your porn from me. Are you into feet or shit like that?”

She clutches her fists together. “I’m into men eating shit, that’s exactly it.” She replies sarcastically, turning around to watch Chohee staring at her with surprise. A sigh leaves her lips. “I’m kidding, but now I need to get my phone fixed. My patients and other doctors contact me through here.”

Her friend swats her hand in the air. “Baek can fix it.”

Oh, over her dead body.

Byun Baekhyun is Chohee’s best friend, annoyance on legs, too overexcited, the kind of child teachers had a headache for. Baekhyun has been in her life for more than six years, as long as Chohee had been—the man that drunkenly screamed her name at the top of his lungs during her graduation, or the one that almost ran over her foot at his birthday party when he was learning how to drive and didn’t know how to park backwards. Baekhyun, though great, is just the type of person she can’t stand for more than an hour. Let alone for fixing her phone.

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes.” Chohee corrects. “You know he wouldn’t ask you for money just to fix your screen.”

“Still,” Something for free sounds excellent at this time where Chohee interrupted my time with my faux boyfriend and also destroyed my phone in the matter of minutes, but I have to deny it. “You know how Baekhyun is. He’ll probably be asking me a bunch of questions—”

“And?”

“I don’t enjoy people prying into my business.”

Chohee smiles at that, pushing her black bangs away from her small face. “He doesn’t do it with a bad heart,” She tells. “Part of me thinks Baekhyun just doesn’t like feeling lonely, so he speaks a lot just to…have attention. It’s the child in him. Let him.”

Somehow, guilt takes over my body. Maybe, I’ve been too harsh judging the man. “…Okay.” I breathe out, standing up and moving towards the bed, laying parallel to Chohee before taking a bite of her cheeseburger. “Tell him I will be at his workplace tomorrow morning. At like eight, I have a shift tomorrow.”

“Why don’t you tell him?”

Waving my phone into the air, I sigh. “Someone decided to break my phone.”

“Right…”

I can already tell it’s going to be a long week.

###  

An engineering degree could only get him so far. Or, if he had completed his time in that engineering program, he may have had his own office by age twenty-eight, or at least, would have had the opportunity for a better salary. Baekhyun had heard it from his mom that he’d regret dropping out of university, but only now does it really become something that he thinks of.

For one, the morning is too dimmed to let the turquoise on his chemise shine brightly—he has to wear the same uniform every single day, tucked inside his jeans, accompanied by a dangling presentation card on his neck. The picture comes from when he was twenty-three, when he started working here, but he has been a technician ever since.

When he opted for this job, he thought he’d be like the others. Spend one year or two here, then flee away for something better. That didn’t happen, and with each portion of his life slipping away from his fingertips, he’s left to find other ways to meet ends as he mirrors himself on the oldest phone technician at his work place.

Suhyuk, above his fifties, working here for more than ten years. His wife divorced him just because he had not moved on with his life, and his children buy Samsung just not to have him fixing their iPhones.

Not even Suhyuk is here at such an early morning. Had it not been for Chohee’s constant texts, he would’ve probably gotten to work a bit later.

Yet, someone is already waiting for him. Chohee’s neighbor, his friend-that-doesn’t-really-want-to-be-friends-with-him, seated on the sidewalk, with her back leaning against the glassed door of his workplace.

“You’re here early.”

She scoffs, standing up when he extends his hand forward. She is not exactly his type, but his eyes rake down her body for a fraction of a second longer than usual. She’s not wearing scrubs, that’s new. “No, you’re here late.” Her fingers point at the watch under her dark denim jacket. “We said seven thirty. It’s eight thirteen.”

Baekhyun runs his fingers through his black hair, playing with the keys dangling from his elegant and long fingers before starting to open the door. “Who is awake at seven thirty?”

“Everyone who has a job, douchebag.” There it is. The name. Baekhyun can practically count with his fingers the number of insults people have thrown at him—all in different occasions and under different circumstances, but the only one he doesn’t feel particularly offended by is the ones she tells him. Douchebag, she had started to call him on his twenty-fifth birthday, when she had eavesdropped on his conversation with Chanyeol about Scarlett Johansson’s tit—

“I don’t get it. Why do you keep calling me a douchebag?” Baekhyun questions, opening the glassed doors and letting his finger twirl against the switch until all the white lights across his workplace brighten the white, spotless place.

She moves behind him, following after his steps and responding with what he can judge as a smile on her tone. “You’re just one.”

“You’ve been calling me that for years,” He says. “And just because I said Scarlett Johansson has nice tits. I didn’t even say tits, I said breasts. I was a whole nerd about it and you called me a douche—”

She chuckles at his words, the melody somewhat foreign. Serious has taken over every portion of her life, and he thinks it has been years since the last time he has seen her actually grin with happiness. He gets behind the counter, taking the phone that she lends him before looking at the screen.

Cracked as cracked can be.

This screams Chohee.

“I know what you said, and it wasn’t breasts.”

Baekhyun looks up, fixing the rounded glasses on the bridge of his nose. “I know what I said.”

“I’ve read enough textbooks to have photographic and audible memory. You said,” She clears her throat then, making her voice a bit higher than her usual tone. That’s not his voice, he thinks to himself. “If I had to convert to a religion, it’d be Scarlett Johansson’s boobs. Can’t believe Ryan Reynolds dated her and I didn’t.”

Taking a small screwdriver between his hands, a smile takes over his features. Yeah, so he was drunk and he may have said that, but— “I said boobs.”

“Breasts, boobs, tits, fat with nipples, it’s all very douchey, if you ask me.”

“I was just saying something that I’m sure a lot of people think.” Baekhyun shrugs his shoulders, his frame looking slimmer on the oversized chemise. Definitely not very fitting for him. “Look me in the eye and tell me she doesn’t have nice boobs.”

“She does.”

“Well, then?” Baekhyun puts the screen to the side, kneeling down to search through his utensils. “It’s not cool that you don’t call me by my name.”

“It just rolls off easier. Douchebag.” She elongates the words then, leaning her elbows against the counter as she tries to connect her gaze to Baekhyun’s. The man stands up then, just as she continues with her train of thought. “As if Scarlett would have dated you over Ryan Reynolds.”

Baekhyun widens his eyes. “You don’t know that!”

“Of course, I know!” She replies. “Ryan Reynolds could break you in half with just one hand and you still think that she’d pick you?”

“I happen to have a nice body, too…you…”

“You’re trying to look for an insult?” With cheeks tinted red, he looks down at her phone, trying to work through the broken screen before his body jolts at the sound of her voice. “You can call me ‘bitch’ if you’d like.”

Wait. Pause.

Baekhyun squints his eyes, a strand of his hair curling against his forehead when he looks at her. “The real question is…do I want to die today?”

“Come on, I call you a douchebag, it’s only fair if you call me a bitch.”

Baekhyun shakes his head, returning to his work. “You’d kill me, and I’m not sure I want to anger someone who knows the human body better than anyone else.”

Truth is, Baekhyun has always thought of her as an ideal when it comes to success. Never giving up, even when her career will never let her stop studying. God, he can’t imagine how difficult it is to read as much as she does.

“If I wanted to kill you, I would’ve done so by now.” The somberness of her voice does nothing to him. He has heard that before, as wicked as it sounds. “Come on, call me a bitch.”

“I won’t—”

“Just once. I don’t want to feel bad.”

“I—”

“Baekhyun, this is the only and last time I’ll ask. If not, I’ll start calling you a bitch myself.”

“Okay, bitch, calm down.” He finalizes, laughter following his statement when he sees her lips parting in surprise. “You told me to say it!”

“That came out a little too naturally—”

Baekhyun squares his shoulders then, ready to throw a joke her way only to see her more annoyed. His specialty. “Maybe, I’ve had one girl or two asking me to call her that.”

She rolls her eyes at his words. “And then you wonder why I call you a douchebag.” She adds. “I can’t imagine one single woman who would like to date you.”

He can imagine a few, but that’s not something she knows about. Baekhyun has always prided himself on one thing—on his voice and his way of getting someone to like him. Only that it comes with a downside: he doesn’t know how to pick the right women. So, more often than not, his dates ended up in disasters, relationships tangled in cheating and of course, how to forget? The day he decided to create his own ASMR Patreon channel for boyfriend roleplays just because he needed some money, only to end up with over thirteen thousand faux partners.

These days, people have wanted him to venture more into a world of rated recordings…and truth be told, his mind wanders. Part of him thinks it would be easier, perhaps more profitable for him, and no one would even look at him or notice who he was. Another part of him feels far too embarrassed. Sure, one thing was recording himself, another thing was publishing it.

“…That’s because you have bad tastes.” Baekhyun conquers, using his screwdriver again before pressing his long index finger to the turn-on button. “I think we’re done with your phone…”

“Bitch.”

“Huh?”

“You were about to say my name.”

“I won’t call you a bitch.” A smirk appears on his soft, delicate face then, merging his features until the screen lights up in between them. The phone is working. “I think you like it a bit too much, huh?”

Maybe, there are some portions of life worth remembering and there is a reason why he is still a phone technician, because he gets to see her otherwise serious expression turn into a laugh when she shakes her head.

“I’d rather be dead than have me in your bed, Baekhyun.” She takes her phone in between her hands, opening her purse just then. “How much is it?”

By the time she is out the glassed doors, blending in her darkened colors with the light, blurring sky, Baekhyun realizes one thing…

She didn’t call him a douchebag. Maybe, it slipped her mind or perhaps, she was nervous when she spat out her last few lines.

Yet, it’s true. He could never imagine the two of them being together.

###

“I’ve officially found the girl who’s going to be in your Patreon with you.”

The Manager Complex, write it in psychology books or Baekhyun may sell it to psychologist in order to get some money, but the concept exists within Chanyeol. Once he had catched a glimpse of Baekhyun’s microphone set-ups and he had to explain the point of his Patreon to his friend, there was no going back. With an agenda on the side of his elongated body, and a professional look on his face, Chanyeol has taken it upon himself to ‘plan out’ his channel…and sure, he’s thankful, but it somehow makes him feel as if he’s a product.

Chanyeol takes a seat across from him on their usual diner. Pink tiles, black and white walls and red tables do make the place justice, but what keeps them there is the fried chicken and pancakes. To die for, and much more if they accompany it with some vanilla ice cream after.

“You have?” Baekhyun asks. He’s not entirely sure if he’s sold to the idea of recording himself with someone else, pretending to be a couple. After all, he’s meant to be the listener’s boyfriend, not with someone else, but more people have joined asking him to be accompanied for heavier subjects on his recordings and truthfully…he wants to expand his horizons a little bit, or he’s, at least, thinking about it. “You can’t just find someone you think is hot and not tell them I plan on recording our voices—”

“She’s more skilled than you, dumbass.” Chanyeol ties his brown hair behind his back, opening his almost-empty agenda before sighing. “I’ve set you up on a date to see where things head and whatnot, but she’s another ASMRtist…and she has done rated recordings, so I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

Oh. So, this is real.

Shit, he thinks it could be easy, but when he really ponders about it…there is this tinge of awkwardness and shyness that overtakes him. Sure, it would make his channel grow and hence, give him more money to spend at the end of the day, but he has to take a swig of beer to push down the bitter taste.

It feels void. People like him for pretending he is the nicest boyfriend in the world, borderline fake at times, but at the end of the day, they only want him to either give comfort or fulfill fantasies. None of them will understand him or want to be with him for who he is, or how he is. Loud-spoken, extroverted, sometimes pensive, mischievous with tinges of cheeky.

“Do I have to?”

Chanyeol looks up from his agenda then, playing with the edge of a piece of paper before shaking his head. “Record yourself? No, you don’t have to if you don’t want to, Baekhyun.” He closes the agenda in one go, his frown becoming more profound by the second. “But I do recommend you to go out on a date with her. She’s different from what you normally go for…and she’s cute. There’s nothing wrong with having fun with someone normal every once in a while.”

Looking around the diner, he spares a smile towards Chanyeol. “Okay, I will go out on a date with her.” With how busy he has been with the growth of his Patreon and his real job on top of that, he hasn’t quite gone out much…and that leaves him to take Chanyeol’s opportunity. If he thinks they are a match, then it must be true, right?

“You’re going to love her.”

“If you say so.”

“Cheers for you getting some after a while.” Chanyeol pushes his bottle of beer forward, only to have Baekhyun chuckling.

“Can’t promise that, but cheers!”

###

A thumping headache follows after every sigh that leaves her lips. Somehow, the isopropyl alcohol-scented emergency room does nothing to purify the utmost tiredness inside her body. Instead, she’s left sulking for the number of hours still left in her nightshift. It’s twelve at night and she, still, has to wait until three in the morning arrives to be able to go back home.

She hears a bag of food plopping against the counter, enough for her to lift her eyes ever-so-slowly. Seriously, she thinks she is half-asleep at this point, unaware if she is dreaming or wide awake. Seeing Jaebeom in front of her may be a dream; the second-year dermatology doctor smiling down at her. While he’s radiant, with his long brown hair cascading down his face and reaching his earlobes, wearing the typical white robe and his baby blue scrubs underneath, she has settled for her burgundy scrubs. The ones she wears every single day.

Truth is, everyone is talking about Lim Jaebeom these days. Even the nurses, for fuck’s sake. He manages to send a smile every few days, enough to have everyone going back to their jobs with hope dangling from their every movement, but the rest of the time, his mysterious persona and magnetism is what keeps everyone at the edges of their seats.

Including her. Of course, she’s included. Be damned the day someone decided to put a mole on his eyelid and not expect everyone to fall in love with it when he smiles.

The scent of sliced vegetables, soy sauce and noodles fill the air, enough to make her lick her lips. “Oh, you’re eating here?” She’s about to move away from the counter, make some space for him to splay his meal and sit down, when Jaebeom shakes his head, the waves of his hair moving with it.

“We are eating here. I don’t think I’ve seen you sit down since the morning.” Jaebeom starts to get the containers of Chinese food out of their confines, quirking one of his defined eyebrows in the process. He’s tranquil, he always seems to have his life put together. The envy. “You have a twenty-four-hour nightshift?”

“Oh God, no.” She groans at the idea. She already has had enough of those the past month. “I’m here until three. Or, until Dr. Jones decides to arrive.”

Jaebeom hisses at the sound of her voice. “So, until four.”

It’s common knowledge that Dr. Jones forgets to not turn off his alarm. “Thanks, Jaebeom, exactly what I needed.”

Though, he does bring her something she needed, giving her a pair of chopsticks and dragging a plastic chair towards her, just as he sits down. “I’ll wait here until then, if you need to.”

Dermatologists normally don’t have nightshifts. They’re only there if there needs to be some kind of abstraction of sorts. “You don’t have to. Besides, you shouldn’t be here on the first place.” She tells, looking over at his seated position, long legs extended in front of him, wide shoulders making her retreat her vision and glare back at his eyes instead. Concentration is key when dealing with a man like him. “Did you forget something or do you just enjoy to eat surrounded by emergency patients?”

Jaebeom slurps on his noodles, a few spots of soy sauce sprinkling against his lips. “Seventy-three old patient with a black head on her back the size of my index finger. I had to take it out because Dr. Kim is out for her wedding.” The specialist and the doctor in charge of the residency only now had the time to get married, in the middle of July, for fuck’s sake. “It was awesome.”

The gruesome smile on his face has her grinning back at him, aware of not showing her teeth just in case they are filled with vegetables and noodles. “You have some pictures?”

“You can bet I do.”

Jaebeom pushes his seat closer to her, until his robe is caressing the barely covered skin of her shoulder, pushing his phone towards her face to showcase an old, wrinkly back with a black head being extracted. “She said she got it because she couldn’t reach for her back for the last twenty years and did not wash there.”

“Typical.” Trailing her gaze away from his phone, she nudges his side. “Did it hurt?”

“Not that I know of.” Jaebeom replies, looking down at his food when he puts his locked phone face down on his thigh. “Rumor has it I have good hands.”

There is not a single ounce of mischief on his face, not until a longer second of silence finally settles on him when she tries her hardest not to look down at his hand and think of what he is even trying to say.

“Oh, fuck.” Jaebeom chuckles at his own words, borderline cackling when he shakes his head. “I didn’t mean it like that. I sounded like such a creep.”

“You didn’t.” She replies, trying to conceal the heat on her face. God, she really needs to get her mind out of the gutter. This is her coworker, a fellow doctor— “I happen to have heard that about you.”

Jaebeom tilts his head to the side, half-laughing at her words, as if amused. “You have heard things about me?”

Truth is… “Who hasn’t?”

Jaebeom pulls at some of the noodles with his chopsticks, pensive for a second before plopping them inside his mouth. Not before saying: “What have you heard about me?”

“Half of the hospital is in love with you.” She replies, as easy as possible. The least she can do is let him know that he really does look at good as he thinks he does. “Don’t even get me started on the nurses. I think they have a cult by now. They have started to care about their skincare routines because you told them to. And because they want to look young enough to be by your side.” Most of the nurses at the hospital are over their forties…but who knows? Jaebeom might be into that.

“Really?” He questions, looking down at his food. “I thought they were just being nice.”

“They were,” She accepts. “But they’re doing it because they kind of want to be your MILF’s.”

His nose scrunches up. “That’s a no.”

She shrugs her shoulders. “You never know, Dr. Lim.” She jokes around, only to have Jaebeom expanding his hands in the air, waving them along with the shakes of his head.

“I know one thing and that is that I don’t want those women anywhere near me in that way.”

Attentive of his speech, she hums. “Then, I’ll keep them away from you. I can save lives, what’s one more going to do?”

Jaebeom’s smile tightens at that, resting one hand over her forearm as she chews on her food. “I’ll have to pay you in some way.”

“Oh, no, no—”

“Let me take you back home.”

“You’re not losing hours of sleep just to take me home.”

She had not realized Jaebeom had finished his meal until he placed the empty container back on its plastic bag. “I’ll lose hours of sleep if I let you go home alone at three AM, you know?”

“You sure?” She asks, aware of the shyness in her tone as Jaebeom nods.

“I’ll be your little helper for the next of the shift.”

Somehow, that doesn’t sound so bad.

How can it sound bad when she has practically ogled at the man and swooned at his antics for as long as he has been working here? Perhaps, one year and seven months, even more…

###

He’s a creature of the night, in the way he blends perfectly well with the dark sky, almost colored like the Americano she craves to drink, with his tiredness completely noticeable but still, one with the crickets around him, making a symphony for him. His car is parked in front of her apartment complex, one much better than what she would have imagined—chic, not simplistic at all, coming from his hard work that will only pay off more with the passage of time.

The wind blows on his hair as she pulls her bag over her shoulder, desiring nothing more than to touch her bed, close her eyes and doze off to a world of dreams, white noise and no responsibilities at all. “Jaebeom, thank you so much for everything.” She breathes out into the air, voice lonesome in her approach, unaware of how tired she sounds. “You’re an angel sent straight from heaven.”

“Some say hell, but I’ll take it.” Jaebeom replies quickly, smiling at her with his gums before placing a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Get inside before it gets too cold.”

“Okay, I will.” She starts to walk towards the door, jotting down the password before looking over her shoulder. “I want to wait until you drive off, though.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You never know, Jaebeom. You could get into an accident. We’re doctors. We know this happens out of the blue—”

“You can always text me to check if I’m alright.” Lacking his robe, Jaebeom rests his hands on the pockets of his scrubs before sighing. “And if you really want to make sure if I’m doing alright, you can check up on me physically on Saturday. I’m free and my friend just opened a Thai restaurant downtown, so…we could meet there.”

She knows better than to think a one-on-one situation means a date. This could be colleagues having dinner together, just to check up on each other, but Jaebeom is not the type to go out alone with anyone. Not that she knows of, and gossip runs around the hospital far faster than stretcher-bearers should. If Jaebeom had been with one of the interns, the students or a doctor, either no one knew about it or he hadn’t, really.

“Ah…it sounds great.” She opens the door wider, slipping inside. After this, she doesn’t think she’ll have enough balls to wait for him to drive off. “You’ll text me the details and we’ll meet there?”

Jaebeom scoffs at her words. “I’ll pick you up.”

“Are you my chauffeur or what?”

“I’d consider myself your date for Saturday, but who knows?” Jaebeom waltzes towards the car, making her hide behind the door as a chuckle leaves her lips. “Maybe, I should ask one of the nurses.”

“Don’t you dare.” She threatens, lingering with a comedic tone.

“Oh, why?”

“You already asked me.” She replies. “And you have a date on Saturday with me.”

“Atta girl.” Jaebeom finalizes, opening the door of his car just as he waves his hand in the air. “See you at work.”

“See you. Good night.”

“Good night.”

Once she closes the door and walks up the set of stairs, she lets herself close her eyes tightly and squeal.

The Lim Jaebeom had just asked her out on a date. That has to be a golden badge after her drought period. Just as she moves through the stairs, she starts to think through outfits, ideas of conversations, anything that could make her first date in a while worth it, but the thoughts inside her head grow less fond of the silence when someone’s voice pierces through the air once she gets to her floor.

Spread in front of her apartment door, seated there, is Byun Baekhyun. The douchebag in all his glory. His hair is done a mess, he rests his cheek on his knees and he’s calling out her name as his eyes widen. Finally, he straightens his back, standing up in the matter of seconds.

Too polished for a simplistic night, he seems to be, with a white button down tucked inside a pair of lightweight jeans. “Why are you here so late?”

She huffs at his words, grabbing her keys with sloth-like movements before moving towards her door. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that? Why are you here so late and at my doorstep?”

“I need somewhere to stay.” Baekhyun’s voice sounds somewhat pouty and when she looks over her shoulder, ready to glare at the man with the rounded glasses and messy hair, she sees that he is actually jutting his bottom lip out. And is that panic on his face?

“Ask Chohee.” The reply is simple, tugging at her doorknob before the white door welcomes her apartment. Just as she slips inside, she hears Baekhyun pushing the door before she could close it at his face, but not inviting himself inside fully.

“Please.” He begs, his face far too close as his eyes twinkle with a tinge of sadness. “Chohee is asleep, like a normal person.”

“Ask Chanyeol.”

“He has a girl over.”

She rolls her eyes. “Of course, he does,” She mumbles, grabbing her doorframe with her free hand. It’s too fucking late after a nightshift to be dealing with Baekhyun’s dramatics. “Do what The Douchebag would to. Trademark copyrighted and all. Ask to join in and become part of a threesome. Chanyeol is a nice-looking dude and he’s blonde now. Fuckable enough.”

Baekhyun scrunches up his nose at the idea, shaking his head as a shiver goes up his body. “I’d rather have my dick sliced in twenty little bits.”

She raises her eyebrows. Okay, time to play. “I can do that. Medically speaking, if you need me to slice your dick—”

Baekhyun’s shoulders fall then, resting his forehead forward until it almost touches her shoulder. “Okay…” He raises his head then, speaking far too fast for her to comprehend. Typical of him. “Chanyeol set me up on a date and I was dumb enough to ask her to have dinner at my place but she is batshit crazy and she brought wedding magazines over and I didn’t have the heart to kick her out, so I told her I was going to go buy something and I ran away from there.”

Wait.

She tries not to laugh, but the irony of the situation has her tugging at the sleeve of his shirt, pushing him inside when a smile of relief takes over his dulcet face.

“So, you left a complete stranger inside your house?” She asks, plopping her bag down on the floor and moving towards the kitchen to wash her hands. Baekhyun follows suit after taking off his shoes.

“Chanyeol knows her,” He says, as if it’s rocket science. “Besides, I was hoping she’d just go in the morning.”

She hums, rubbing the soap more into her skin. “What time did you tell her you were going to buy something?”

“At nine…”

She gasps at that, looking over her shoulder to see Baekhyun seated by her kitchen counter. “You have been here for six hours?!”

“I didn’t know where else to go!”

Baekhyun may be the life of the party, a socialite through and through, but he can count his friends with the palm of his hand. She knows that. “She’s going to be there tomorrow.”

Baekhyun groans, covering his face. “How do you know that?”

“You’ve given her reasons to be angry, Baekhyun, and she was attached to you already. Now, she’s going to question the root of your relationship and become even more attached because she’ll want to fix what you destroyed and—”

“Oh my God…” Baekhyun trails his voice at that moment, running his fingers through his black locks. “When am I going to have a normal person as a date?”

Cackling, she pats her hands on a towel. The next step is having Baekhyun sleep on the couch, take a quick shower and be off to sleep. “When you become an average person, Baekhyun. You’re just too Broadway for your own good.” She says. “You’ve seen American Psycho? Now welcome Korean Douchebag.”

Though, she still moves towards the living room, opening one of the drawers in her coffee table to grab the blanket she keeps there, just in case. “Says the person that is home at three in the morning.”

Sighing, she remembers the awful nights of working. “I was working since the morning. I had a nightshift, but not a complete one.”

“And you came here all on your own?” Baekhyun must know about her lack of vehicle, because he immediately rests one hand on her shoulder, making her turn around once she has stood up. “That’s dangerous. No one should be out at this hour of the night.”

That reminds her, she should text Jaebeom to see if he’s gotten home safely. “Someone gave me a drive home.”

“Someone?” Baekhyun questions, grabbing the blanket when she tosses it at him.

“Uh-huh.”

“…A guy?”

“Yes, and I’ve got a date with him on Saturday.” She wants to shut out all questions that he may have, pointing towards her couch with an open hand. “You can sleep there until I wake up in the morning. I can’t promise breakfast or a comfier place because you definitely won’t share a bed with me, but it’s warm, at least.” She pauses. “I’ll take a shower and I’m off to sleep—”

“Wait!” Baekhyun says, a sigh ripping from her throat when she turns around to look at him.

“Yes, Baekhyun?��

Standing there, he looks a bit heartbroken, like a puppy after being stepped on or an old man bathed in rain after a car passed by him. Truth be told, Baekhyun is one of the unluckiest lovers she has ever met…and she’s one of them, for all she knows.

“And do you trust him?” He questions, pressing the blanket to his chest. “Doctors are trouble. I mean, Dr. House? Trouble. Derek Shepherd? Trouble. The guy who created Frankenstein? Definitely trouble.”

It seems like someone is worried that she may end up falling for someone who breaks her heart. “Listen, if you mention Dr. House and Derek Shepherd in the same sentence and comparing them to my date, you’re only further enticing me because they’re hot characters.” She shrugs her shoulders, only relaxing when she sees Baekhyun worried expression. “…But yes, I do trust him. I’ve known him for like, two years. He’s caring and serious and sweet. That’s all I have ever wanted on a guy.”

Apart from lack of headaches. She needs the type of love that doesn’t fall into boredom but that doesn’t have unnecessary drama.

“Okay, just…be careful, okay?” Baekhyun asks, and she nods, watching as the man plops down on the couch. “And thank you for not kicking me out.”

Little does he know that she would have never done such thing. “You’re welcome, douche.” She says, turning off the lights after saying her goodbyes with a last: “Sleep tight.”

Though, the light of her phone accompanies her when she types down on her phone:

To: Lim Jaebeom.

Text me when you get home.

Thank you for everything.

If I don’t respond it’s because I have fallen asleep.

And she doesn’t get an answer, at least, not one that she recalls.

###

Nine thirty in the morning and Baekhyun is ready to take off.

Though, his lips remain pursed in concentration, rummaging through her refrigerator for the umpteenth time only to come up with nothing. Seems like she hasn’t done the groceries and hence, he has nothing to prepare for breakfast. Still pretty much knocked out on her bed, Baekhyun doesn’t have the heart to wake her up and take her out for breakfast. Until another time, it may be.

Leaving a note on the coffee table about his whereabouts, he puts on his shoes, extending his arms over his chest once he opens the door to her apartment and closes it behind him. One thought crosses his head at that moment—apart from the quite clear hollow spot in his stomach that begs for food—and it is that he, probably, still has someone in his apartment. A stranger that wants to marry him, and sure, people in his Patreon must feel that same way, or some of them might, but Minjung is a whole another level…

Just as he’s about to take off, the door next to her apartment opens, welcoming the sight of a barefaced Chohee, with her hair high up on her head and a surprised expression on her face.

“Oh, I thought you were—” Just as Chohee is about to say her name, she stops herself. “What are you doing at her place?”

Baekhyun goes over to where Chohee is, resting his hands on the depths of his pockets. “My date decided to plan our wedding ahead and I grew scared, so I left her there and crashed at her place because you were probably asleep.”

“I was,” Chohee rubs her brown eyes then, pointing towards her place. “But I got up early to practice my tarot readings before breakfast.” Baekhyun knows where this is going, and he’s not quite sure he is against it. After all, he doesn’t know what awaits him at his place once he arrives. “Do you want to be my subject? I promise hot cakes and a lot of insight in whatever you want.”

Baekhyun snorts out a laugh. “If you can give me some hindsight on my love life, I promise I’ll be the first one to subscribe to your YouTube channel.”

With one hand placed on her hip, jutted out, Chohee exudes all airs of confidence. “Oh, honey, I can read you like a book.”

Chohee goes all out with decorations. Dreamcatchers in pink, walls a cryptic white, decorations in shades of the most gorgeous pastel colors. There is a pattern and a scheme here, organized to have her tarot space in the living room, with a shelf behind her containing endless stacks of tarot cards packages. Baekhyun is midway through his bite of his honey-coated hot cake when he watches her hands working on shuffling the cards.

“Spirits, what can Baekhyun expect from his romantic life?” Baekhyun can’t help but gape at the choices of words. He will never get used to the word ‘spirits’ whenever Chohee reads him. It’s freaky how she—almost always—gets something right and talks to these invisible creatures. Ghosts? Who knows? “What is Baekhyun’s love story—?” Three cards plop out at that moment, two reversed, one on its original position. Chohee tilts her head to the side, as if deep in thought. “Okay. Spirits, give me two more cards. We need to know Baekhyun’s—” Two more cards come out.

Baekhyun stops munching on the hot cakes, chuckling at Chohee’s expression. “That bad?”

“Horrid.” She explains, fixing the cards into their position. “From what I can see, you’ve met your match already. One of the many soulmates life gives us…” Chohee’s voice trails, as if rearranging her thoughts. “But dude, you fucked it up big time. I get the sense of speech being the source of your match’s disappearance, though not completely, but those feelings train took off long ago. Maybe, you were too silent and unapproachable or too loud and open. I think the latter.” She plays with another card deck, placing it underneath the first line of cards. “There will be a period of separation, but I’m not sure if it will be prolonged. I get an immense sense of indifference? I don’t know, Baekhyun, like she doesn’t care that you’re not together.”

That’s weird. Baekhyun would have never thought of going back to one of his exes. Too much of a hassle. “Is it one of my exes?”

Chohee shakes her head. “No, I think it’s someone you took for granted.”

“I never do that.” Pride swells his chest when he leans back on his chair, legs parted in the process. “I know when to take chances.”

“Not this time. You either get on the ride or it’s taking off without you, Baek.” She rearranges her cards then, clearing her throat.

Curiousness overtakes him. He can’t be the only person in this world who won’t find love, or that has to go back to one of his choices that don’t seem all too factual at this time. He spits out her name, as if it was the second word he learned growing up, and that’s enough to have Chohee frowning.

“I mean, it could be…”

“Not that.” Baekhyun shakes his head. Sure, when they first met, he had initially thought she was one of the greatest looking women he had seen, and he had taken his shot at the time, only to go completely ignored…but that was long ago, and he doesn’t think something would ensue between the two either way. From her part, at least. “What do you see in her reading?”

“Ooh,” Chohee perks up at that, shuffling the cards once again. “Spirits, what do you see in the love story of the second unluckiest person I know in what love consists of?”

Five cards come out almost immediately, taking him by surprise. “Wait, wow—”

“She also lost a match in the past. In her case, it seems like it was ignorance that took part on it.” Her long nail splay on top of one card, he can’t quite recognize it, but Chohee seems interested. “But someone else has come along. Perhaps tired from the eccentricity of past lovers, she wants tranquility…but I see a portion of miscommunication in this partner, too.” She hums in the process, but Baekhyun is long lost in his thoughts. How in the flying fuck is it that the mysterious doctor is the love of her life? Or, at least, one of her soulmates? Sure, she doesn’t believe in tarot, but Baekhyun does…and it’s almost impossible that someone he didn’t even know about is going to be part of her life for longer than intended. “Maybe Jaebeom really is the right choice for now.”

“Jaebeom?”

“The cutest dermatologist I have ever seen. He’s sexy and chic and he has this stare, ugh.” Baekhyun bites his tongue, not wanting to say anything about the fact that there are going out on a date and that, in hindsight, if his stare is enough to have Chohee rolling her eyes back, it may not come as a surprise that she starts dating him, for real.

Why does that bother him?

“And why do you think it’s him?”

Rearranging her cards, Chohee shrugs. “She has a tiny crush on him. Too sly to ever be noticed, but she likes him. She doesn’t do anything to get his attention, though, a complete waste.”

Baekhyun takes one last bite of his hot cakes, rubbing his hands against his pants before standing up. Truth be told, maybe he should stop being a complete douchebag—as she calls him—and take matters on his own hands. Minjung may have been trying to point out to something wonderful and while pushing people away, perhaps speaking too much for his own liking, he has lost the opportunity of living through romance. Hell, the only person he thought he could be sharing his solitude with now has a date and a possible love affair right at the corner.

“Thanks for the food and the existential crisis,” Resting a kiss on top of her head, Baekhyun sighs. “Bye, Chohee.”

The next thing he needs to do is apologize to Minjung.

### 

A ding of her phone accompanies her in the silent Saturday night. The swoosh of the wind against the windows of her apartment makes them creak thanks to their oldness, a reminder to bring a thicker coat with herself to her date, but her phone takes away her attention. Perhaps, Jaebeom wants to change plans, or he’s asking if she is ready for their date.

Lo and behold, she’s wrong about both options. A notification from Patreon takes over her screen when she presses down on it, a written post by Blue Moon taking most of her attention. She hasn’t had enough time to check up on his posts, or replay the ones that she had enjoyed the most. Turns out, life continues to move on its axis and if she does get this date to go somewhere profitable and good, she may not need of Blue Moon anymore.

Her eyes read over the post, surprised to see an emoticon at the end. He always uses those, even when his voice borders the depths of comfort when he speaks. However, her heart picks up at the idea that he is plastering on the post. A collab is coming soon, including a famous rated ASMRtist, and she can’t help but let her eyebrows raise.

Luck exists in some people, inherent to their souls, and though she doesn’t know Blue Moon personally, has not raked her pupils up and down his physique in order to judge him as her type or not, she’s sure she’d like him. Enchanting, somewhat funny, mischievous. Boredom is not part of his vocabulary, and he sounds extremely sweet in the process.

And now, she’ll have to hear her faux, online boyfriend roleplay guy get it on with another girl.

She gets out of the application before she can think any further about it. At the most part, she can just skip it. Someone like Blue Moon obviously gets a lot of people to like him, just from his personality alone, so she has no say in this. She either supports or she doesn’t. Besides, she has more important things to take care of, like Dr. Lim, for example.

To: Jaebeom.

I’m ready.

You can pick me up whenever.

Bring a coat. I think it’s going to be cold tonight.

From: Jaebeom.

I’ll be there in fifteen.

To: Jaebeom.

K. Drive safe.

With the passage of time, and the texts they have shared—as well as meals exchanged between the other—, that contact name will be shortened, perhaps sweeter with time, and that’s the natural movement of things. Who knows? Maybe, she won’t need Blue Moon anymore. She doesn’t seem to do so right now, and it’s probably for the best.

### 

Pieces of heaven sprinkle on his gleaming pupils, holding cups of ice cream on both their hands as they walk up the set of stairs that lead to her apartment. Cladded from head to toe in black, Jaebeom sports an elongated coat on top of a skin-tight sweater and jeans to match. What brightens him up is his smile, the tinges of sunshine in his speech and the pensive look on his face as she speaks to him.

“It’s funny how whenever we see each other, there’s always food involved.” She tells him, spooning the last few bits of her ice cream before plopping them inside her mouth. Jaebeom’s eyes trail down there, licking his own as he takes the empty cup from her hand to stack it up with his own, finished even before they got to her place.

“You reach the heart from the stomach.” Jaebeom instructs, only to have her chuckling in the process.

“Anatomy by Lim Jaebeom, and wronged, at that.” Her reply has a wide smile taking over his features, his eyes turning into half-moons when he nudges her side, grabbing her forearm before she could lose her balance.

“You’re such a perfectionist.” But truth be told, Jaebeom may just be trying to reach her heart through her stomach, just like he says. Two more stairs and they are in her hallway, the man following after her as she speaks.

“No, but seriously, thank you for picking such a good restaurant. I didn’t know your friend could cook so well.”

“Nah, he just owns it. He can’t cook for the life of him, he just has good tastebuds.” Jaebeom replies, just as she’s rummaging through her purse to get her keys out. “We could go there again.”

“Whenever you want. I’m down.” Her voice comes out softer than intended when she gets her keys between her hands, turning around to point at her door. “You want coffee to wash down the ice cream?”

Jaebeom runs his hands through his hair, his slim arms sadly covered by his layers of clothing. “Coffee at this hour?”

“We’re doctors. I think we’ve all had coffee at this hour.”

“True.” Jaebeom replies, giving one step forward before interlocking his hands together in front of him. “But I think I have something in mind that could keep you awake, since you’re so sleepy and bored during this date.”

Oh no, that’s what her words meant. She can practically hear Chohee smacking her in the head for being so goddamned stupid. Of course, drinking coffee means that she wants a caffeine intake, hence she isn’t feeling as energized. God, she should have offered tea—

“That’s not what I meant.” Jaebeom takes one final step towards her, wrapping his arms and hands around her waist to bring her closer, his taut abdomen flushed against hers, chest to chest as he looks down at her features.

He chuckles, his chest shaking with her own. “I know that’s not what you meant…” His fingers hook a strand of her hair behind her ear, his thumb caressing her jaw, her cheek, before settling on her bottom lip. “I’m just looking for an excuse to kiss you.”

Two years. Two years since the last time she had kissed a man, and even then, her last date’s kissing skills were not the best. Her heart picks up at the idea of touch, craving it because it’s him. The man she likes, or whom she feels attracted to.

“Search no more.” She whispers, resting her hands on each side of his face before pushing herself forward.

Fireworks are not there. They don’t explode right at her face, but tranquility is what she has always looked for. Chilled, relaxed, that’s more of what the kiss is like. Jaebeom takes his precious time to let the finger that was caressing her bottom lip trail down to her neck, grazing the column of her neck before deepening the kiss. Pressed to her door, she grabs him by the front of his shirt, bawling the fabric in between her fingers before she feels a small tug of his teeth against her lips.

He doesn’t take risks. He keeps it simple, sexy, classic. There is not a lot of playfulness, neither does it feel like it has a deeper connection. It is what it is, and that’s about it.

But why does it disappoint her, to certain extent?

He doesn’t say anything. Does not pull away to whisper sweet nothings against her lips, to compliment her or say how much he waited for this. Instead, he keeps kissing, his thigh in between hers, his breath fanning against her skin softly when she runs her fingers through his hair. A raptured moan never makes it out his lips, it rests on the back of his throat and he pushes it down. Bummer.

He pulls away, chest heaving, heart thumping softly while hers is rushing a mile per minute, until he dives in again, her left hand coming behind her to twist the key with as much expertise as she can to get the two of them inside when suddenly, her phone rings.

It’s not a ping. Not a text, but a full-on ring.

Jaebeom pulls away the slightest, stopping his hands on her waist when he says: “Do you want to pick it up?” His voice is hoarse, and even then, it doesn’t reach the depths of her soul. The most she does is make her crave for him, but it doesn’t get past physical need.

“Not really.”

Jaebeom chuckles, scattering kisses along her neck, making her giggle to herself. “Why not?”

“I’m busy.”

“Doing what?”

“I’m not doing anything yet.” The connotations of her voice are clear.

“So, let’s change that.”

When Jaebeom continues kissing her, she expects the phone to stop ringing, but just as the call is over, the contact starts calling again and that is enough to have Jaebeom pulling away again, bloodshot lips swollen from their make-out session, though shortly lived.

“It must be an emergency.” He whispers, and she hums in the process, opening her bag to take her phone out and read the contact’s name.

If someone had seen the devil while being in heaven, this would have been their expression. The one she sports when she sees that, out of all people, Byun Baekhyun is calling her.

He’s the devil. Jaebeom is an angel.

And she’s about to kill him to see if he’ll stay in hell or not.

“What do you want, Baekhyun?” Her voice comes out sharp as she speaks on the phone, sparing one glance towards Jaebeom, but the man is on his phone instead. He doesn’t seem to mind that she’s talking to another man while on their date. He just can’t be this chilled out, right?

Baekhyun has never sounded so serious, but he does at that moment. “I’m in the ER but I won’t get checked if it’s not with you.”

Her heart picks up for whole different reasons, straightening her back as she imagines all the horrible possibilities that could encounter Baekhyun in the emergency room. Her workplace. “Wait, why? Why are you in the ER? Is everything okay?”

“Would I be calling if everything was okay?” Baekhyun whispers for one second, awfully close to a voice she has heard, but she can’t quite pinpoint it when she is already strutting down the hallway, followed by Jaebeom calling her name and trailing after her step. “I broke something.”

“You broke something? Be more specific, douchebag.” Though, she fears what he could have broken. Was he in an accident of sorts?

“My fingers, I think. I’m not sure. I don’t want anyone to see me if it’s not you.” He hisses in the process. “It really hurts and I know you are in your date, but I think I’m about to die.”

Well, there goes the date to welcome Baekhyun’s dramatics. She doesn’t know why she entertains him, or why she is worrying so much. “I’ll be there in a few. Just…stay still and don’t scream or cry or anything like that.”

“Okay—”

She cuts off the call before Baekhyun could continue, running down the set of stairs as Jaebeom repeats her name.

“What happened?”

“One of my closest friends is in the ER and he’s stubborn, so he wants me to check up on him.” She looks over her shoulder at that moment, though briefly, an apology in her voice. “Jaebeom, I know this is not what you expected out of your date, but could you drop me off at the ER?”

A sigh rips from his throat, dangling his car keys in between his hands before humming. “Sure, let’s go, workaholic.”

When down the set of stairs, she presses a short kiss to his lips. No spark, but favorable in feeling. “Thanks, Beom.”

A new contact name arises.

###

Never had she expected to be in this position, holding a folder with Baekhyun’s information as she drags the blue curtains of his small consultation room open. Jaebeom trails right behind her, pulling the curtains closed when Baekhyun lifts his gaze, half-laying on the bed as if his entire body was writhing in pain and it wasn’t only his fingers.

Truth be told, worry overtook her with his call and on the way here. Calling him ‘one of her closest friends’ to Jaebeom had been quite the surprise, too. Never had she thought of Baekhyun in that light—he has always been the one that would never grow up out of the group, but now it seems to be completely different. Maybe, he’s that one leech she won’t ever be able to take away, or she actually enjoys having him suck up blood every once in a while. Metaphorically speaking, he’s just fun to be around.

“Okay, tell me the story and show me your fingers.”

Baekhyun is still looking at Jaebeom, scrutinizing each portion of him with squinted eyes. “Shouldn’t the consultation be private or do my fingers need a dermatologist?” Truth be told, she doesn’t think they do. When Baekhyun extends his left hand, she touches his index and middle finger, barely grazes them in their elongated yet reddened glory, and he hisses in the process.

Jaebeom places one hand on her back. “I think I’ll see myself off.”

She looks over her shoulder, shaking her head. “No, we can continue the date after if you want to.”

“I’m tired and I’m not sure if I want to be working at this hour.” Jaebeom finalizes, ready to finish the date, before he rests a kiss on the crown of her head, bowing his head towards Baekhyun. “Hope you get better, man.”

“Yeah, I sure hope I do.” Baekhyun is never this sharp with his words, but as it seems, he’s not in a good mood. When she tries to flex his fingers, they do. They’re not broken, that’s for sure, every portion of his phalanges feel as though they are in place.

“What happened to you, Baekhyun?” A rosy tone takes over his features when she asks that question, sitting up when a small whine leaves his lips as she continues to bend his fingers, testing their movements.

“You don’t want to know.”

“I’m a doctor now, of course, I need to know.” She tells him, pulling away and opening the folder to check through his information. “And for the embarrassment you pulled me through by both telling everyone in this ER that you wouldn’t consult yourself if it wasn’t with me and ruining my date, I need to know.”

As she’s checking the X Rays, she sees Baekhyun’s fingers, perfectly put in place, definitely not broken. It may be a strain or a tendinitis, it depends on what he was doing. “It’s embarrassing…”

“Could’ve been your dick that was hurting. That would have been embarrassing.” She tells him, trying to ease into his mind before sighing deeply, putting the X Rays down and looking into his eyes. Baekhyun looks like he had gotten ready in a hassle, gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt covering his body. Slippers, too. “Baekhyun, I won’t judge you. I really won’t. I’ve seen worse things. I can promise you this is nothing.”

Baekhyun looks over to the side, fixing his glasses on the bridge of his nose before clearing his throat. “I was with the date I talked to you about…Minjung…” He trails his voice, and she already knows where this is going. This is definitely a sex emergency. “And I don’t know, well, I do know. I was using my fingers…” Baekhyun covers his face, and she tries to stifle her laughter. Oh, she definitely knows where this is going. “Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not laughing.” Though, a small chuckle follows after her statement, enough to sneak a smile away from Baekhyun.

“You sound like you’re laughing.”

“That’s just my voice.”

“You never laugh, what are you talking about?”

“Just tell me what happened.”

Baekhyun winces when he pushes his hands onto his face a little too harshly, left to look up at the ceiling as splotches of red and pink come up from his neck towards his face. Beet red. “It was supposed to be just me fingering her but…uh, she was a little too harsh and she wanted to ride my fingers, and I guess she jumped too hard and broke them.” He closes his eyes tightly, pursing his lips just at the same time that cackles leave her own. “Tell me they’re not broken. I don’t want to have broken fingers, please, it hurts a lot.”

“They’re not broken, douchebag.” There it is. The perfect title, but this time around, the douchebag was the one being played. She takes a pen from the table next to the stretcher. Clicking on it, she starts to write down the diagnosis. “I think you strained a ligament, that’s all. None of your bones are out of place and I don’t feel any substantial difference on your muscles. You can still bend your fingers and they are not particularly swollen. I’ll give you some medicine for that and I need you to ice it for as much as you can. Exercise them, too.” Though, she stops herself at that moment. “Just no fingering, okay? Keep those fingers for yourself.”

“Stop laughing.” He differentiates every word with a punctuation, and she smiles up at him.

“Why are you still seeing her, though?” She slides the prescription towards him, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear when she looks at him. “You said she was too pushy and you didn’t like it. I’m sure you can get other women to finger.”

“I said stop it!”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” She rests his folder on his thigh, getting closer to him to speak in a softer manner. This is her patient and she can’t out what he had told her as so. “Baekhyun, really, stop seeing her—”

“I’m not telling you to stop seeing Dr. Fancy Eyes over there.” Baekhyun juts his chin towards the curtain. “Maybe, I just gave Minjung another chance because everyone has someone and I want to have someone, too.”

Handsome comes short for what she thought Baekhyun was when they met each other. She was twenty at the time, in Chohee’s birthday party, trying t stifle her laughter when he made a fool of himself in front of her. He was drunk, clearly, dancing and swinging his hips in the air as he spoke to her in the most typical of manners. They were younger then, and while she had grown—become more somber and serious with the day, Baekhyun still kept that lively personality of his, matched with some sprinkles of weightiness here and there. She can always count on him for a good stifled laugh.

“Okay, valid. You can keep seeing her if you want to.” She tells him, pointing at his hand with her pen. “But just take care of that, okay?”

She’s about to send him off when Baekhyun reaches for her forearm with his non-injured hand. When she turns around, Baekhyun’s face is serious, void of any of his usual jokester manners.

“Are you sure you’re into him?”

That question is unexpected coming from Baekhyun. At this age, she knows what she wants, but she isn’t sure if Jaebeom ticks off all the squares in her bucket list. “He’s nice. The spark is there.” She lies through her teeth. “He’s a doctor, so he’ll understand me better than anyone else…I think he’s great. And hot.”

Baekhyun nods in the process before sighing. “Haven’t you heard that you shouldn’t date doctors?”

“I have.” She says. “Mostly from you, for some reason, but I’d still do it.”

“Just look at Lee Jinki’s character in Descendants of the Sun—”

“Baekhyun, you give some examples that just make me want to date a doctor more.”

The man gets off the stretcher, standing in front of her before whispering: “He just looks like more of a douchebag than I am. I’m just protecting you.”

That voice. It sounds oddly like Blue Moon when he lowers his voice the slightest, and for some reason, she cringes at the thought. Yeah right, as if she could daydream and go to sleep to the sound of Baekhyun’s voice—

“He’s a nice guy.”

“He looks like he asks for blowjobs on the first date.”

“That’s up to me to decide.” Swinging her hips from side to side, she opens the curtains, only to hear Baekhyun scoffing from his spot.

“Please, not with him. He’s not the kind of person I imagine you with—”

“If you could get your crazy fingers inside someone and interrupt my date to save you, I can do as I please.” Playing around with Baekhyun is funnier than expected, much more when his face falls at those words, turning around to look at him. “Now, give me the keys of your car to drive us to a pharmacy to buy everything we need and then, we’ll stay at my place just so I can check up on you.”

Baekhyun tosses his keys towards her, trusting her with his car completely, and she can’t help but smile. The only man she thought she’d have over tonight was Jaebeom, but turns out that the one who stayed home was Baekhyun.

How ironic life is.

###  

Three weeks have passed since the last time she saw Baekhyun and she can say one thing…

Life is a little bit more boring without the man.

It’s funny how the complexity of their friendship is misunderstood, even by herself. When he’s there, she likes to annoy him—and he sure does back—, but when he’s gone, she misses him. Sure, she will never say it out loud, but she finds herself smiling at the thought of jokes that Baekhyun had let out in the air between them. Hence why she rushes towards Chohee’s apartment when seeing his car parked in front of her apartment complex.

She really needs to get a car for herself, she thinks on the way there. Stop procrastinating and become a full-on adult instead of taking the bus every time, but the thought washes away from her brain by the time she knocks on the door and it’s opened by Baekhyun himself.

As always, he’s wearing glasses, vision ruined as it can get, with his black hair messily falling over his forehead. This time around, he’s sporting a rose gold sweater to frame his nicely shaped hips, masculine and defined, just like his thighs. And just when she catches herself looking at his legs, she pushes her gaze to go up. A smirk is already plastered on his face.

“Look who’s here.” He says, opening the door wider for her to enter, but she shrugs her shoulders while passing by him.

“Look who is here,” She repeats, sparing him a glance over her shoulder when he closes the door. “Chohee better get some insecticide for all the cockroaches hanging around in her apartment. All the freaking time.”

Baekhyun crosses his arms over his chest, and since when has Baekhyun sported such a nice body? “You said cockroaches. I’m one cockroach, meaning that we’re a little family over here. And you’re in her apartment, too. So, shame is on you, you called yourself an insect.”

“Don’t get smart on me, douchebag—”

Chohee merges from the kitchen, holding a tray filled with cups of tea. “Don’t tell me you’re starting with your arguments this early on.” Right behind her, her bleached blonde boyfriend emerges. Haesol is a biology teacher, much different from what one would imagine from him, with thick glasses and oversized clothes, in love with someone who believes in everything spiritual but nothing physical. Couples have to be totally different in order to be together, at times. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were here, let me brew you another cup of tea.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” She waves her hand towards Haesol. “Haesol, you’re alive!”

“Questionable. Depends on what reality you’re living.”

“Or if we’re living at all.” Continuing with his train of thought, she splays herself next to Baekhyun, who has taken a seat in front of the coffee table with the tray of tea in between his hands. “Sorry I invited myself inside. I was missing you guys.”

Haesol properly sits on the couch, while Chohee excuses herself to go look for some cookies. “It’s okay. You help me accompany Chohee when I’m not here, after all.” In somewhat of a long-distance relationship, she doesn’t know how Haesol and Chohee do it. He lives two hours away, but given to his job, he can’t always drive back here.

“I’m the one that checks up on her.” Baekhyun instructs, taking a sip of his tea after giving Haesol his own cup. “She is never here. She says the incense makes her have allergies.”

“It’s too strong!” I reply, nudging his side before I see him holding his cup with his injured hands. “How are your fingers doing?”

“Great.” Baekhyun replies, a glimmer of blush appearing on his cheeks. “They’ve healed and I haven’t strained them any further.”

“Good.”

“Wait, you know what happened to Baekhyun’s fingers?!” Chohee peeks her head from the kitchen, her bangs falling across her eyes until she moves them away. “He hasn’t told anyone.”

The beam that appears on her features is almost unable to be stopped. Truth be told, she’s not entirely sure if she supports the baggage that comes with Minjung as Baekhyun dates her, but that moment of his life will always be funny to her.

“I do.”

“Don’t you dare tell her.” Baekhyun nudges her side, the scent of him taking over her, musky and mellow. Not too strong for her sensitive nose.

“Why can’t we know?” Haesol asks from his spot, as tranquil as ever, just as Chohee takes the seat beside him. A pillow for her, the kind of tranquil love she has ever wanted, with how he places his arm behind her neck for her to lay on.

She spares one look at Baekhyun. Bright. Shining. Explosive. He’s all the emotions at once, some that she can’t even comprehend and she doesn’t mean to find them out.

“I was his doctor, so I can’t really tell you.” She grabs his hand then, bringing his injured fingers up to her lips and planting a soft kiss on them. “I’d die before compromising these two fingers. You won’t ever get the secret out of me.”

The smile that appears on his face is compliant, wrapping his fingers around hers and giving a small tug before pulling away. “You heard her.”

Chohee sighs deeply, munching on her cookie before shaking her head. “Guys, keep fighting. I don’t think I can stand you two being real, normal friends.”

But maybe, the warmth that spreads on her stomach says otherwise. Being Baekhyun’s friend is not half bad when he looks at her from the corner of his eyes that way, as if his trust on her is never-ending.

###

The pressure of a new relationship’s happy ending is the worst nightmare to ever exist, much more when it feels nonexistent. The covers of Jaebeom’s mattress curl on each side of her face when she is laid down on it, her jacket long thrown on the floor, but what’s important here is the lack of movement. Even when Jaebeom does his best to enthrall her in a kiss, to wrap her up in his engulfing warmth when hovering over her, with his taste becoming one with her own, lemon chap-stick a memory that has long engraved in her brain…they’re stuck in the same position. In the same ‘we are but we aren’t’ dilemma that she is tired of living.

This would have been precious for her when she was younger. With his fingertips scalding the skin of her waist as he tries to pull her shirt away from her body. Boring, it longs to be, with the way attraction keeps them as just that. Just two people who find the other appealing for their bodies, but nothing else…and she doesn’t want that. The only thing she aches for in a partner is having a friend who listens to her but can also make her feel endlessly loved. And vice versa, of course.

Just as a sweet whisper of her name rests on her ear, giving her promises of what may come tonight, her mind goes back to the person she would wish to have hovering above her right now. Making her laugh, perhaps annoying her to bits, but still keeping that handsome face of his intact. Fogged-up glasses, certain fingertips and a lightweight persona. Though Jaebeom does an incredible job at bringing the moon down to this bed with his seriousness and overall concentration, it doesn’t feel like love.

It doesn’t get her going.

Maybe, she just needs a bit more time, needs to feel more of him or let herself be kissed by him, but then again, Byun Baekhyun comes and fucks it all when appearing inside her head. In just at this moment, and she doesn’t understand why. She captures Jaebeom by the cheeks, lowering him down to her mouth to enrapture him in a kiss, but it doesn’t matter how many times she shakes her head or tries to melt her tongue with his, Baekhyun still glimmers as a memory of the unknown inside her head.

What is he doing here?

Her mind must have taken up his name, caressed it in between thoughts and daydreams, because by the time Jaebeom’s hand is on her thigh, lifting it up to hook it around his waist, she breathes out anything but his name.

“Baekhyun—”

Wait.

What?

Her eyes widen, much more at the time that Jaebeom leans back on his thighs. A scoff leaves his lips when he lifts his eyebrows, an awkward smile taking over his features. “Baekhyun?”

“Jaebeom, I’m so sorry—” She tries to spit out, reaching for his shoulder just at the same time that Jaebeom stands up.

“That’s your friend, right?” He asks, earning a nod from head. She doesn’t know why she’s thinking of Baekhyun in such a light lately—the last time that she had thoughts like these about him was when they first met. It’s horrid to see one of her closest friends in such a manner when she’s about to get it on with whom she thought could be the other half of her next relationship. He runs his fingers through his hair, sighing. “Any valid reason why you just called me his name?”

Pushing her shirt up her body once again, she shrugs. “I didn’t mean it. It just happened—”

“You’re thinking about him.” Jaebeom reads her thoughts far too easily. Perhaps, she had let him see the biggest glimpse of it. “And if he’s the one that you want, I can’t do this.” He lifts his eyes to the dark ceiling, the navy walls blending with his dark attire.

What? One thing is coincidentally thinking about Baekhyun. Another thing is wanting him.

“I don’t want Baekhyun. He’s like a friend to me. Just friends.”

“Yeah, so why does he stay at your place whenever he has an issue?” Shit. Maybe, that does sound a bit wrong. As it turns out, Jaebeom doesn’t out his anger, remaining stoic as he speaks. “And why is he the one person you always talk about when you think of something funny? Why is it that you just said his name as we were on my bed—?”

Speechless, she licks her lips, standing up from the bed and taking her jacket in between her hand. “Because maybe, I’m just confused.” She replies, clearing her throat when she stands in front of him. Beauty grazes him, but he doesn’t feel like the man that will cause her butterflies for the rest of her life. “It doesn’t…it doesn’t feel like love with you, Jaebeom and I think that’s not really what you want, so it’s better if we leave it like this. I can’t…I thought I wanted tranquility, but I don’t want deafening silence, either.”

Jaebeom crosses his arms across his chest, looking over to the side, jaw pronounced in a sharp line. “Maybe, you’re comparing me to someone else.” He says. “Not to misunderstand me, I get you…it’s up to you to choose what you want in a man and if it’s me who you want, but…it’s difficult not to believe there is something else with Baekhyun.”

Shaking her head, she huffs. “We’re just friends. I tell you, I don’t know why he was inside my head—”

“You were thinking of another man as I kissed you, that has to be enough of an answer for you.”

It can’t be. Denial creeps up on her when she laughs, taking her purse in between her fingers and tossing it over her shoulder. “Think what you will. I think it’s better if I leave.”

Jaebeom nods, pushing his lips together just as she presses a kiss to his cheek. The touch is barely there, soft in comparison to the kisses they shared. “It was great having you, even for a moment.” He tells her, and she hums.

“Shortest moment of my life.” She replies. “But a good one, indeed.”

By the time she is out the apartment complex, her skin is bitten by the harsh wind, left in a part of the city much too far away from her home. She starts walking on wobbling legs, cursing the moment she decided to wear stylized heels to make her thighs look better, only to end up ruining it by calling Baekhyun’s name. Sure, it was clear that things with Jaebeom weren’t going anywhere, lukewarm, pointless and based in attraction only, but what was Baekhyun doing inside her head while she was getting it on.

Or almost, consequently.

The first person she decides to call is Chohee, but she’s staying at Haesol’s place for the weekend. She keeps walking, rummaging through her contact list, getting hold of some of her friends and getting denied equally. Sure, it’s Sunday, but most people should be home by now—

The letter ‘B’ surprises her then, and perhaps it’s the obsession of not wanting to continue walking and create blisters on her feet, but she calls him. Dials Baekhyun’s phone without a single ounce of guilt within her body, because it’s Baekhyun, he probably won’t answer—

“Douchebag on line, what can I help you with?”

“Mhm, things with Jaebeom are over…” She tries to avoid telling unnecessary details, tugging her pink coat closer to her chest. “And I’m in the middle of the street, away from home, cold and hungry. So, if you’re available…could you come pick me up? I can call a taxi if you’d like.”

“That asshole.” He breathes out, not knowing the complete story and how, in retrospect, she is the asshole in this story. “Don’t you dare call a taxi. Is there any store around?”

Her eyes scan the street before landing on a convenience store. Opened twenty-four hours. “Yes, a convenience store.”

“Good, stay there and tell me the address. I’ll be there in no time.”

###

He can’t physically understand it. Not a single braincell inside Baekhyun’s brain can’t begin to comprehend why someone would simply end a date with her when she looks good enough to break hearts.

Wrapped up tightly in a blanket, she brings the mug of hot chocolate he had prepared for her up to her lips, staring towards the screen as a new episode of The Rookie takes her attention away from him. Truth be told, Baekhyun was in the middle of a recording when she had called—thus, she wouldn’t know Sundays at night are the times he uses to record—, but he couldn’t bear to imagine how Dr. Lim, Dr. Fancy Eyes, Lim Jaebeom, could even think of finishing a date with the one woman that did not even blink at the sight of him.

Well, there are a handful that can’t stand him…but still, Baekhyun doesn’t know what Jaebeom was thinking.

“What happened—?”

Shame takes over her features when she munches on one of the small marshmallows that accidentally slip through her lips. A glare later and the few seconds of silence that follow after, he knows the answer she has repeated endless times since she has gotten here. “I won’t tell.”

With that, Baekhyun plops himself down harsher on the couch, crossing his arms over his chest just after fixing the glasses on the bridge of his nose. Sure, she may look like a daydream on his brown couch and blend perfectly well with the warmth of his home, but that doesn’t give her the benefit to do what she pleases in his house. “It’s just kind of stupid that I picked you up, drove you all the way here, made you hot chocolate, let you thirst over Tim on the screen and you don’t even dare tell me what happened between you and Dr. Douchebag.”

She quirks an eyebrow at that, sighing in the process. “I am Dr. Douchebag. Not him.”

“That’s impossible.”

“I get to be an ass sometimes, Baek.”

“Yes, but only to me.” He looks at her from the corner of his eyes, spreading both his hands behind his neck as he sighs through his nose. “You don’t have to tell me, you know.” His voice lowers, the same tone he uses when he is in the solitude of his home and records himself, trying to make others happy. Pathetic, ain’t it? “…But it’d be nice to know. The least I want is for you to suffer like I have,” He stops himself for a moment, giving her half a smile, no teeth. “And it sucks, to trust someone and have it once again not be the person you want or deserve, but you’re so beautiful inside and out that I truly think it’s his loss.”

Sure, he could tell anyone that she’s gorgeous. Plenty of times had he talked to Chanyeol about how adorable her smile was and how she could have him at her mercy with one twinkle of her eyes, but that’s not something he had told her since that night when they were twenty and he was a little bit tipsy.

She swears he was drunk, but he wasn’t. Vivid enough for him to tell the truth.

“It’s not his loss.” Her voice whispers, husky from lack of use. “Jaebeom is just…too tranquil. It’s good, but it’s not what I want. We can’t let relationships flow all the time. Sometimes, we have to take reigns. I need to stop wanting tranquil, voiceless, silent…because a love that is silent is a love that is not truly felt.” She scoffs at that moment, taking another sip of her drink. “I wish I was like you.”

His palm rests on her forehead, as if testing her fever. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, what did you do with my friend?”

Finally, he steals a smile out of her, dizzy in the way she looks at him from below her eyelashes. “You have always been so honest about the people you like or love. Who you want to have sex with, who you want to date, who you’d marry…you always say it all and you let them know. You’ve gotten your heart broken, but you always cut ties first.” That way, he knows exactly just how wrong she is. Baekhyun has told everyone what he thinks, but not to her. He has never told her just how in love he is with the memories they have shared. In which he has made a fool of himself but still managed to get a smile out of the most serious woman he knows. “The first time I cut ties with someone is because I feel nothing for him.”

“You felt nothing for Jaebeom?”

“Obvious attraction, but who doesn’t?” She shrugs. “Look me in the eye and tell me the man doesn’t have the most gorgeous eyes you have seen.”

Those would be hers, but Baekhyun shakes his head. “Sorry. Got lost from the moment you told me you felt nothing for Jaebeom because those are the best news I’ve heard the past century.”

A chuckle leaves her lips. “Why?”

“He’s flavorless.”

“Totally not.”

“Totally yes.” Baekhyun corrects, playing around with the remote, given that they are not catching up on the episode anyways. “I always imagined you with someone better.”

“Yeah? I always imagined you with a hot ass girl with anime tits.”

“A-Men.” Baekhyun parts the word in two syllables, lifting his hands in the air as if to pray for it just to steal laughter away from her. “You take me as a boobs man only, right?”

“Scarlett Johansson told me so.”

“I look at other things apart from boobs.” Baekhyun says, shrugging in the process. “Even if they are not there, I can like someone.”

“Like what?” She asks, turning on her side and taking another sip of her drink. Cream gathers on her upper lip, and he takes the edge of the blanket to pass it over it to clean it up.

“Intelligence. Rationality. Profoundness. I want a woman who looks like she could never rule the world but has everyone under the sole of her feet. Including me, of course.” Baekhyun’s face is far closer to hers than intended, licking his lips when he looks into her eyes. “I want a woman who laughs at what I say but also knows that I’m more than just a joke on legs.”

Her eyes trail all over his features, before saying: “Those who don’t notice it, don’t know you.” She claims. “You’re far sweeter than you let yourself be known for.”

“Because I talk about tits and I make the magic leave?”

“Kind of.” She replies, a chuckle in her tone. “…And because you don’t realize just how great you are, so you go for whatever woman you think matches you. And you’re wrong. You only deserve the best.”

Heated up to the core of his heart, Baekhyun sighs. “Are you sure you’re not running a fever?”

“I might check. I’m giving compliments to the biggest douchebag I know.” She takes the last sip of her drink before smiling. “Or maybe, I just took your spot and I’m the biggest bitch now.”

Baekhyun pats her head, shaking his own in the process. “Say it. The baddest bitch.”

“I prefer to be the cutest bitch.”

“The most intelligent bitch I know.” Baekhyun replies, pushing himself away when a second too long of silence settles between the two. His hands end up on his waist, extending and flexing his back in order to ease his muscles. “Finish watching the episode while I go prepare the guest’s room for you tonight.”

And with that, he tries to control the beating of his heart. He knows better than to go back to some stupid, childish crush.

### 

Turns out that romance is complicated. It either speaks in screamed words or unintelligible whispers, but it’s never going to be any easier. She thought, for once, that going with the flow would bring her happiness and now, she can’t even face Jaebeom without feeling guilt creeping up on her, as well as embarrassment. They are colleagues, after all, and maybe, making out with him for hours to no end leaves little room for her not to think about it happening…but the worst part of it all is when romance starts to go crazy, randomizes a person and then, it settles them inside her heart.

Never would she have thought that she’d think of Baekhyun in such a light that she’d find herself smiling at the thought of him, texting him with more frequency and spending more and more time with him. Never would she have thought that there would come a day that she goes to sleep so fulfilled with the life she has, even when they are nothing, that she would not need Blue Moon—who, coincidentally, sounds a lot like Baekhyun, and maybe, that’s why she was so into him—. She doesn’t need someone to lull her to sleep, because she’s tired of the complete days she’s having. With friends, with work and most importantly, with peace for the decisions she has taken in life.

So, it comes easily to her to hover over that button, staring at nights spent with someone whom she doesn’t really know…and she doesn’t want to listen to anymore. After all, the romantic thoughts inside her head are taken by Byun Baekhyun, and she still has to fix that, because that definitely won’t go anywhere…so, it’s better to start by something easier.

Are you sure you want to cancel your subscription to Blue Moon’s channel?

Accept.

###

Within a month, she already feels like she’s losing her mind.

Why the fuck did she start crushing on Baekhyun?

The tones of the city remain as gray as ever, polished by concrete and the movement of people in monochromatic clothes, but in between what she knows—what she has grown accustomed to, there is some light. Seated by the glassed windows of the small café Chohee likes to frequent once Haesol is around town is this one man that beams with happiness, eyes twinkling behind his glasses. His back hunches in relaxation, toying with the straw on his cup of coffee. She knows it probably has too much caffeine and sugar for his slim, toned body, but there is nothing that ever stops Baekhyun from getting the same order. In between brown woodened tables with red tablecloths, he shines the most, sporting his favorite yellow hoodie, one to match his best friend’s bleached blonde hair.

Haesol finally manages to find his phone, patting his hand against the pocket of his red cardigan until Chohee cuts through the air, interrupting whatever he was meaning to say.

“Not so bad looking when you stop calling him a douchebag, isn’t he?”

Those words take her off guard, putting her hands up her chest as if to protect her heart. Chohee is gleaming, holding onto her boyfriend’s arm as they stand on the other side of the street, covering the sidewalk with their bodies. She shakes her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I do.” Chohee confirms. “…You’ve accidentally reignited the old flame Baekhyun and you had the first night you met at my birthday party and now you realize that all that banter throughout the years was undying sexual tension?”

“Banter does not equal sexual tension,” She reports, lifting her index finger in the air. “That’s a wronged conceptualization of romance aiming to make people believe that love can only be fueled if there are arguments.”

“…You two don’t really argue.” Chohee shrugs her shoulders, pushing her long hair behind them. “You just play argue. You like calling him a ‘douchebag’ because it gives you a reaction and a reason not to fall for him. You’ve done it for years because you’re attracted to Baekhyun and it’s easier to believe that opposites don’t attract.”

Haesol tugs at his girlfriend’s arm, pulling her with him to cross the street. She follows right after the couple. “Honey, I don’t think you should be psychoanalyzing the situation. They’re both adults and she should know how to act up on her crush.”

Huh, for someone who is so quiet he can barely be heard, Haesol has some bite to his tongue.

“I am not crushing on Baekhyun.”

Chohee looks over her shoulder once they are at the entrance of the café. “Right,” She drags her voice, sarcasm dripping from every tone. “Because you’re in love with him.”

“Chohee, let it go.” Haesol reasons, opening the door to the café just as she scoffs.

“I am not in love with him. He’s a douchebag. He’d leave me with whoever has a bigger cup size than me, wouldn’t he?”

She knows he’s wrong. Baekhyun is not as stupid as she has tried to paint him out to be.

Which is why she tugs at the collar of her coral blouse upon seeing him waving his hand at her, dragging himself on his seat to make space for her. The way his hair, disheveled as always, curls against his forehead has her wanting to run her fingers through it, calm him down after a stressful day in a job she knows he doesn’t want, but before she could give him a smile—awkward, albeit—, Chanyeol captures his attention by showing him his phone and his grin practically erases off his face.

Weird.

By the time she gets closer to the duo, she gets a glimpse of their conversation. “Chanyeol, I won’t go out on a date ever again—”

“I’m not telling you to go out on a date with Minjung, but we need to find someone with a good fanbase to make some roleplay recordings with.”

The world stops for a few seconds. Actually, it feels like years have passed by right in front of her eyes when she realizes just what Chanyeol has freed into the world. It can’t be possible that the recurrent thought of how alike Blue Moon and Baekhyun sounded could be true. After all, Baekhyun wouldn’t be able to record himself and do boyfriend roleplays just because he feels like it. It shouldn’t—

Everyone has seated on the table, but she stays upright, finally returning to her senses when she awkwardly laughs. “Roleplay recordings?”

Baekhyun hums in the process, giving a small nod as his ears tinge in red. “Well, I need a bit more money and I started a Patreon account, where I do boyfriend roleplays. People want me to expand to rated stuff, but I don’t know, I’m iffy about it.” That’s the moment she lets her guard fall entirely. He doesn’t know it, but embarrassment takes all over her body. All this time, her mind had connected with the same man in different occasions, enough to have her shaking her head when she gives one step back. “Hey, it’s not that big of a deal. Do you find it weird?”

“You were Blue Moon?” Her voice comes out in a whisper, suddenly unaware of the people around her, when Baekhyun’s eyes widen by being caught, opening his mouth and closing it subsequently, babbling to find his voice.

“I—I was…” He says. “We—Were you a subscriber?”

“Oh my God,” She gasps to herself, placing her hands on top of her face to cover her eyes. “Oh God, I just did not subscribe to your Patreon without absolutely having no idea for months.”

Baekhyun chuckles awkwardly, lifting his hand to rub the nape of his neck. “I think you did.”

“I have to get out of here.” Aware of her embarrassment, she moves towards the door, hearing Baekhyun’s footsteps trailing after her.

“Wait, no. It’s okay! I just—It’s flattering!”

“For you, definitely not for me.” She replies, turning around just as she opens the door to the café, sparing him a glance before groaning deeply. “Shit, how couldn’t I notice that the similarities were there?”

“I guess you didn’t really think I would go for a job like that.” Baekhyun gives a gummy smile, biting his bottom lip soon after. “Can we just talk about this—?”

“Sorry, Baek.” Shaking her head, she clears her throat soon after. “I don’t think I’m ready to talk about this right now.”

With that, she closes the door behind her, perhaps choosing to ignore all opportunity she has had with Baekhyun, but what is she supposed to do? Admit the crush that she grew both on a faceless man speaking sweet nothings into her ear and her friend? It’s too much turmoil for just one afternoon.

###

Another card ends up under her boot when she steps inside her apartment. The thirteenth one since the last time she saw Baekhyun, coming daily for thirteen days straight. She’ll give it to him, the man is smart enough to keep her on the edge with these cards, but each and every single time, she folds them over and places them in her coffee table’s cabinet, there for her to read once she doesn’t feel like the world is falling on top of her.

It’s horrid. Awkward. Awful in a lot of ways. She can’t look at him in the eye and suddenly tell him that his voice was the one that calmed her down in so many nights but that past that, his personality was the one that captured her whole, made her dream of him and think him into her life as a memory she never wants to get rid of. For fuck’s sake, she lost the opportunity of having something with Lim Jaebeom just because she was absolutely head over heels for Baekhyun.

Her friend.

The douchebag.

When, all along, she has been the douchebag in everyone’s life.

Just when she closes her door behind her, she hears a thud and a whine following soon after. That timbre of voice makes her turn around, sparing a glance towards the door before peeping through the peephole. Much to her lack of delight—though, some relief washes over her—Baekhyun is standing by the door, wearing that terrible turquoise chemise that he uses for work and somehow, not angered that she has probably bruised his face when he holds the bridge of his nose between his index and thumb.

“Ouch!” He hisses, pulling his fingers away and sighing in relief when there is no blood. “You know, I know the ER is the best place to find you, but I’m not sure I want to break or strain any other part of my body.”

A smile appears on her face, though she tries to push it down, resting her forehead against the door as if that manages to make her get closer to him. “Baekhyun, what are you doing here?”

“Getting injured, apparently.” Baekhyun huffs out in annoyance, letting go of his nose to splay his hand on top of the door. She swears she hears his palm softly hitting the surface. “…I kept pushing notes under your door for the past thirteen days and I thought you were ignoring them, but you didn’t even read them on the first place.”

She’s not the best of people, what can she say? But it’s stupid to believe Baekhyun would ever feel anything back for her. They are total opposites, and he has already spoken about what he wants in life to her. He wants someone serious, intelligent, put-together. She’s a mess of misconceptions and unspoken words.

“I don’t want to get attached, Baekhyun.” She says, turning around to look towards the rest of her apartment, with her back leaning against the door. “I subscribed to Blue Moon because I wanted to feel less lonely. Well, I subscribed to you…and I spent months wishing I had someone like him, and then, I questioned why I wanted someone like you. Why, when being with Jaebeom, I could only think of you and only pushed him away by comparing him to how much flavor and spice and humor you brought into my life…” Her voice becomes distant, heat flaring around her face when she clears her throat. “And I painted a sky for me when I didn’t even know if you wanted to be a star in it. I suddenly realized just how stupid I was for thinking I had a chance, with Blue Moon or with you.”

Baekhyun stays silent for a few seconds, trying to twist the doorknob to no avail. “You really haven’t read the notes, have you?”

She sighs. “You don’t know how embarrassing it is to be in my position. I like you, Baekhyun. Fuck, if I want to be with someone, it’s with you and it’s pathetic—”

“Check the goddamned notes.” He says, calling out her name soon after. “If there’s someone who knows perfectly well how pathetic you feel, it’s me and truthfully, there’s no reason to.”

“You’re just saying it because you’re my friend.”

“No, I’m saying it as me. As Baekhyun. As the guy who sent you those notes.”

Her hands grab the pieces of paper in between her fingers, scrunching up her nose as she unfolds them. “What even are they, Baekhyun?”

“They are the thirteen times I didn’t tell you how much I liked you. From the moment I met you to now,” The more she reads through the letters, she sees glimpses of his mind through the years. From age twenty to now, Baekhyun had a whirlwind of emotions, never quite knowing what was a joke and what was meant to be much more. “And you always said I was a douchebag, not because of what I said about Scarlett Johansson, but because of what I said the night we met because you thought I was drunk but fuck no, I had never felt more sober in my life.” Baekhyun breathes out, just at the same time that she skims through the letters, getting in the information. In the past years, Baekhyun has liked her several times, getting over it only to move on to something else, but he always comes back to the same spot. “I meant every word and I mean it now. Don’t be embarrassed for liking me when I’m the stupid guy who has liked you for so long—”

She opens the door then, not caring if she’s a mess or the notes splay on the floor when her fingers caress the skin of his waist to bring him closer. Baekhyun feels like home, not too tranquil but rapid instead, a lake trying to move her off her boat as he grabs her by the back of the neck with one hand, digging his fingers on her hips to keep her closer. She molds into him as if made for each other, and maybe, they were, but she had always been too stupid to notice that there was more to Baekhyun than what he said.

In his silence, his whispers, his nothingness…that’s where he shined the most. When the jokes died down and all there was left of him was his sweet personality, though imperceptible at times, that was when she loved him the most.

When she pulls away, he leans in for a few more kisses, stealing a chuckle away from her when he continues to do so. “Did you just kiss me?”

“I guess I did.” She smiles, wrapping her arms around his neck to hug him tightly. “Shit, Baekhyun, you weren’t supposed to wait this long to tell me you liked me. We could have had our happy ending so long ago—”

With a movement of his legs, he swings the two of them side to side. “Well, it’s difficult to tell someone could like you back when they always call you a douche.”

“Sorry.” She pulls her face away, capturing his soft, thin lips in between her own before humming in delight. “But I’m not telling you go now, douchebag.”

He shrugs. “It’s never too late to start.”

###

The collar of his sweater fell off one shoulder, collarbones peaking out as he brought the same glass of champagne he had been drinking from up to his lips. Chohee dragged him along the masses of people in her party, wearing a tiara out of all things, as she spat out whatever nonsense she had inside her head of finding Baekhyun’s perfect match. Running a hand through his disheveled hair, he played along. It was not like he’d really find love in a place like this.

Though, when he saw her, dressed from head to toe in black, standing by a corner as she talked to Chohee’s new affair, Haesol, he thought he saw a glimpse of heaven. One of those angels that no one dared talk about because of their power, with a smile barely playing on her face, too difficult to get out, as she batted her eyelashes as softly as possible with every word she heard from Haesol. Her concentration was immaculate, unlike him, a little bit tipsy with flushed cheeks.

Chohee called out her name, one that he thought he would never forget, with her hand resting on Baekhyun’s shoulder. “…This is the guy I had been talking to you about, Baekhyun. We went to high school together and he’s been my sidekick ever since.” Chohee explained, and the woman was kind enough to extend her hand, stealing a breath away from him and settling a challenge on the top of his head when seeing her. He wanted to have her, but it was almost impossible—he knew this from just one glance. Difficult as difficult could get.

“Hi, nice to meet you. Chohee hasn’t stopped talking about you.”

“Well, I hadn’t heard about you but I wished I did.” Baekhyun spoke, taking a sip of his drink when he shook her hand with his. Soft, strikes of electricity going up his arm when they touched. “Nice to meet you, too. I’m Baekhyun, or your future husband. Whatever you want me to be.”

A laugh ripped from her throat then, continued by a wheeze, as she moved her hand away from him. “Okay, douchebag, that was smooth, but good luck with that. I’m not much of a dater.”

Baekhyun shrugged then, as if knowing something more. “Give me time, I’ll make it happen.”

And he did.

[cursestothemoon]

I Won’t Say I’m In Love

ii.

Fred Weasley x Fem!Slytherin!Reader

Read part one here

Warnings: forced intimacy, suggestive themes, strong language, fighting (verbal), Fred being a jerk, Adrian being a bigger jerk

Word Count: 3388

Summary: After Fred’s comment in Herbology, Y/n is avoiding him. Not wanting to be a bother. Lily and George try to get Fred and Y/n to make amends while Adrian does everything in his power to make sure the message to Fred is loud and clear ‘Back Off’. Eventually pent up anger, jealousy, and frustration leads to an explosive fight between Y/n and Fred. 

SERIES MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

Icarus fell.

He had flown too close to the sun and let the warm heat scorch his skin and melt his wings.

Icarus fell and Y/n understood that the sun that melted her wings was no sun at all but instead a boy. The boy she often took the selfish luxury of assuming saw her the same way she saw him, a being of the gods. The image of the boy she created in her mind, shattered to pieces from the stones he threw, bringing her back to reality.

Her lover didn’t love her. Not even a little bit, not even at all.

Y/n kept her cool in the class, offered a cool laugh and turned away as the lesson started. She tried to listen, though her mind often wandered back to what Fred had said.

...Godric knows they’d be less bothersome

By the end of class, Y/n was beyond self conscious of how desperate and clingy she probably seemed. The thought alone made her stomach turn, and she vowed to leave him alone, to never be so bothersome again and to get over Fred Weasley.

She didn’t need him.

She didn’t love him.

She didn’t.

Fred was in a rather perturbed state during class. Y/n gave no sign that she was dwelling on what he said, no sign of sadness of discomfort.

Absolutely nothing.

The air was odd, he could feel it. No matter how unbothered she looked, sounded, even acted, the way her fingers picked at her cuticles and her brows furrowed to make the gentlest crease had guilt eating away at his insides. Fred had half a mind to ignore the lesson, completely disregard whatever Ms. Sprout was saying and trying to explain to Y/n that he meant none of it.

Every word, every syllable, that had spewed out of his mouth tore at his tongue as if he was chewing glass. Even worse was the tearing of his heart as he watched the light flicker from your eyes for just a moment before it returned, dull and forced. But his pride gave a gentle rumble as it had been awoken by the thought of him apologizing and inevitably confessing, laying everything bare and vulnerable in front of Y/n, and he decided that he’d just wait for it to all boil over.

It had to.

***

The next day came and Fred was eager to see the girl in the morning, expecting the usual routine of back and forth banter as he and George and Y/n and Lily walked to the breakfast hall, only for him to send a fake glare in the direction of the Slytherin table as she parted from him.

Only Y/n never showed.

With twenty minutes left for breakfast and a nagging George, Fred gave up waiting and walked into the mess hall. His eyes glancing over toward the Slytherin table and he nearly choked on air as he gaped in the direction of the house of Salazar Slytherin.

There she was, tucked under the heavy arm of Adrian Pucey. He felt his anger nearly boil over as he watched the way Adrian ran a hand through Y/n’s hair before turning her face, quite forcefully Fred noted, towards his own. It was an exercise of self restraint, forcing himself to stay put and stay calm when Adrian gripped her jaw to keep her in place so he could kiss her.

Y/n grimaced at the feeling of Adrian’s lips on hers, his hand holding her jaw painfully tight making the pair of eyes burning holes into the side of her face go unnoticed. But Fred had been seen, of course he had been, but he was seen by Adrian Pucey who decided to give him a show.

Adrian knows, he knows the way Fred watches Y/n when she isn't looking and he knows that Y/n would dote on the ginger in a heartbeat if her pride had not been in the way so often, and he used this to his advantage.

“What are you doing?” Y/n growled trying to pull away from Adrian.

Adrian grinned, his grip on her jaw unwavering, “Whatever I want.”

“Next time...don’t.” She grunted, shoving his hand away from her face.

If only Fred had seen the rest of the exchange, if only he had seen the way she forced Adrian off of her or the way she got up to sit further away from the pompous boy. But Fred saw none of it, his back facing the two at the other end of the hall and the dangerous concoction of rage and jealousy pumping through his veins. His face was in a deep scowl as he sat in thought, all feelings of guilt and the want to apologize withering away.

“You alright, Freddie?” George asked, noticing the unusual broodiness.

“Peachy.” He grumbled, not making eye contact with his twin.

George didn’t ask anymore questions, the deathly tone his brother was sporting enough for him to understand that this was a private matter.

The day passed and soon a day turned to days then to a week and a half. Y/n had done her best to avoid Fred and his group of friends, the fear of coming off as bothersome gnawing at the back of her mind. As she tried to purge Fred from her life, every hidden blush or muffled giggle that he once pulled out of her served as a powerful blow to her heart.

She was going toe to toe with the loss of a love she never had, and she was losing.

The only person who seemed to notice the inner battle was Lily, the clear signs of defeat had etched themselves onto Y/n’s heart only bared for her best friend to see. But Lily waited, it was a delicate thing to try and heal a heart wounded by the bullet that is unrequited love.

It was a Friday night when Lily decided to talk to Y/n, but she had to find the girl first. The weather was crisp, cool, and unwelcoming as she snuck out of the castle and trudged her way to the tree.

The tree, a crooked and scarred tree that the two girls used to climb during first year, had become a point of clarity for them when in need. When Lily got to the tree, lovingly named Jigsaw, she knew where to look. Her head tilted upward, a sad smile gracing her lips as she saw a leg dangling from a branch.

“Hateful to me as the gates of Hades is that man who hides one thing in his heart and speaks another.” Lily recited with a loud voice.

Y/n smiled to herself, the familiar words falling from a familiar mouth.

She spoke aloud without looking down at her friend, “ There is the heat of love, the pulsing rush of longing, the lover’s whisper, irresistible magic to make the sanest man go mad.”

Lily laughed, making the girl in the tree finally turn to meet her eyes, and the moment would have been perfect if it weren’t for the glistening tears that sat across the apple’s of Y/n’s cheeks, glistening in the moonlight.

“I knew you liked the book.” Y/n smiled softly at the memory of her nose scrunching in scrutiny as you handed her your battered copy of The Iliad.

Lily disregarded the comment.

“He said something to you again? Is that why you’re crying in the tree?”

Y/n shook her head feeling fresh tears push toward her waterline. That was just it. Fred hadn’t said a single word to her, no apology or attempt to ask why she had pulled herself away from his life. He seemed completely content without her, it was what she wanted but she didn’t know it would be this difficult to accept it.

“No. He hasn’t.” She shrugged, eyes avoiding Lily’s strong stare.

The girl on the ground understood, “That’s the problem then. You want him to say something.”

“It would be nice for him to notice my absence.” Y/n said bitterly.

Lily shook her head, walking closer to the trunk of the tree, “You two are probably the most oblivious people that have ever walked the earth.”

Y/n didn’t respond so Lily continued.

“Too prideful, too stubborn. When will you just admit that you are in love with him and it’s killing you trying to stay away?” Lily raised her voice as the sentence progressed.

“I don’t- I’m not in love.” Y/n grumbled, looking down at her friend.

Lily scoffed, “Oh please, I’ve seen the way you look at him and the way he looks at you. Don’t let his fragile boy ego ruin this. To be quite honest, you haven’t exactly been warm and fuzzy with him, if I were some hormonal teenage boy with fragile masculinity I would’ve said what he said too, to protect myself.”

“And he’s been so clear with his feelings for me?”

A laugh slipped through Lily’s parted lips at the question, her facial expression one of disbelief.

“No boy spends as much as he does trying to bother some girl they don’t like, and no boy would get so defensive over a girl he has no interest in. Fred is in love with you, even Adrian can see it!”

Fred’s name made the situation all too real, all too personal, and Y/n decided she no longer wanted to be sitting. She jumped down from the branch and brushed off her skirt as she spoke.

“He’s just a boy who thinks I’ll open my legs for him if he tries hard enough.” The words she said hurt herself, but it’s true, it had to be.

Lily seemed near to pulling her hair out, “Stop lying to yourself! Stop denying it!”

“No man is worth the aggravation, it’s ancient history now. Been there, done that.”

Y/n started to walk back to the castle, Lily quick on her heels, “Who do you think you’re kidding? Honestly?”

The girl just shook her head, trying not to pay attention to the thumping of her heart at the thought of Fred being in love with her.

“Look at you know! You’re thinking about him aren’t you? You get that look in your eye, like he’s the earth and heaven to you.”

At this Y/n stopped and turned to her friend, “I don’t get any looks in my eyes.”

“I can see right through you, you can’t conceal it. Just say you’re in love.”

The girls snuck back into the castle, their conversation now turned to hushed whispers as they made their way to the dungeons.

“You’re way off base. I won’t say it.”

“Face it like a grown-up.”

“No chance.”

“Don’t be so proud, it’s ok to be in love.”

“No way.”

Y/n and Lily stopped in their tracks at the sound of quiet voices coming from the adjacent corridor. They looked at each other before peaking their heads around the stone wall, being sure to not be seen by whoever it was.

Speak of the Devil and he shall appear.

Fred and George were down the corridor, laughing about something as they tried to get into Filch’s office. Neither of them noticed the two girls, and sported beaming smiles when the door unlocked with a click.

“At least out loud,” Y/n said with a somber tone as she took a selfish moment to take in just how devastatingly beautiful Fred Weasley looked in the dimly lit corridor. “I won’t say I’m in love.”

The sad smile she gave Lily was returned before they turned around and went the long way to the dungeons, avoiding a run in with Fred and George Weasley.

***

Fred’s Saturday had been going fairly well. The prank he and George pulled on Filch the night prior went off without a hitch, he had no homework for the weekend, and he even got to breakfast early this morning which got him the first spoonful of eggs, and the prime pick of toast. So, yeah his day was going fairly well to say the least, but it could’ve been better had he been the one nuzzling his face into Y/n’s neck instead of Adrian. Though he imagines she wouldn’t look as disgruntled if it were him.

With this new public closeness that Adrian and Y/n were displaying, regardless of if it looked like she was enjoying it or not, Fred assumed that they had made it official. Adrian Pucey and Y/n L/n, the power couple of Slytherin, Fred couldn’t compete with that and he assumed that Adrian was the one keeping her away from him, and he resented both of them for it. He resented Y/n for dropping him from her life so easily, and he resented Adrian for getting the girl.

“Is there a reason why your face looks like a wrinkly old handbag?” George asked, eyeing the lines in Fred’s forehead as he sat deep in thought.

“Just thinking. Doesn’t matter, we have any plans for the day?”

George groaned, quite literally sick and tired of his brother’s grumpiness and the jealous glares at Adrian and Y/n.

“When are you gonna man up, apologize, and tell her you love her?”

Fred needed a minute to process what had just been said to him, but when he did he looked at George with annoyance, “It’s in the past. Obviously I didn’t mean as much to her as she meant to me.”

“This is a start, you didn’t deny that you are in love with her.” George shrugged.

That earned him a warning looking from Fred, but he knew the threat was empty and just shook his head at his brother’s tough guy act.

“To be completely fair here, you weren’t exactly the nicest to her. What did you say again? Something like ‘I’d rather shag a goblin’ then wasn’t it something along the line of her being… annoying?”

Fred grumbled out, “Bothersome.”

“Right right, bothersome. Now call me crazy but I wouldn’t exactly swoon at that.”

He was right, of course he was, “I panicked.”

The younger twin nodded, “I could tell. Shame too, just before you completely obliterated her self confidence she even looked like she was starting to blush.”

“Alright, not one of my best moments but she didn’t have to run into that git’s arms.”

“You really think she ran? Or was she pulled?”

Y/n’s day wasn’t going as well as Fred’s had been. She was late to breakfast and only had a measly butt end of the toast, not only that Adrian had seemed to take his blatant disregard for personal space to the next level as he placed sloppy kisses on her neck. She no longer had the strength to fight him off, she had gotten into bed late last night and even then didn’t sleep most of the night making her too tired to care.

And she didn’t have it in herself to care when Adrian followed her to the shore of the Black Lake, but she drew the line when he pushed her up against a nearby tree. He dipped down to continue the assault on her neck, wet and sloppy kisses placed across the skin of Y/n’s neck made her grimace.

“Get off of me.” She growled, trying to push him off of her.

Adrian was persistent, “Come on, you never said no before. Before Fred.”

“I’m saying no now. Get. Off.”

The harsh shove to his chest made him tumble back a few feet before he smirked back up at Y/n, eyes dark and dangerous as he gave a dry chuckle.

“It seems you’re missing something, babe. You’re mine.”

He stalked toward her grabbing hold of both her wrists and pushing them up above her head, holding them there in a painfully strong grip as he forced his lips onto hers. He had planned it out perfectly too, after catching a glimpse of the mops of red hair making their way over to where he and Y/n are.

Y/n struggled against him, whimpering in genuine pain and trying to free her hands but to Fred and George it looked nothing like what was actually happening.

Adrian finally pulled away, eyes glancing up to see a seething Fred, before dipping down to give a harsh bite to Y/n’s neck, not breaking the eye contact.

“See you later, Y/n.” He smirked, walking away with his hands in his pockets.

He went the extra mile to make sure he bumped shoulders with Fred as he left, making George call out a few words that would get them into loads if Molly ever heard.

But Fred didn’t care about pompous assholes at the moment, he was too busy seeing red. The jealousy and anger mixed in his heart, a cocktail of destruction that he couldn’t help but let poor out of his lips as he stalked his way over to the tree that Y/n was still leaning against. Breathless from the kiss he presumed.

“If it isn’t the slag of Slytherin.” He called.

The insult brought George back from his bout of rage directed toward Adrian, and he knew Fred was beyond mad.

“Fred…” He tried to stop him, the look he gave him was one that always pulled his twin back but it didn't work this time.

Fred grumbled, “Go George, I’ll catch up.”

George sighed but hoped for the best, maybe they would talk it out finally, so he gave his brother a look telling him to tread carefully then left.

Y/n was not in the mood to stroke Fred’s ego. She felt dirty, used and the sudden, random bursts of unsolicited PDA made her think that Adrian wasn’t just doing it for his own benefit.

Had Fred always just been right around the corner?

“What do you want, Weasley?”

Fred scoffed, “Adrian’s finally loosened his grip on the leash then?”

The comment made her insides boil, of course he had seen it all, and of course he had assumed the worst.

“Fuck off.” Her tone was strong, not giving away the tears that pushed at her waterline. She still hadn’t turned to face him.

Fred got closer to her, manners locked away and replaced by his anger.

“Why? Because Adrian doesn't like you talking to other people? His fragile little ego couldn’t handle it could it?” Each word dripped with sarcasm.

It was Y/n’s turn to scoff, “Please, I don’t want to do this right now.”

It was a desperate plea in disguise, but Fred wasn’t having it. He was out for blood. She hurt him, and the deepest, most barbaric and boorish part of him wanted to hurt her back.

“So you’re just gonna run off to do Adrian?” He laughed with everything but humor.

Y/n felt her anger boil over, the nerve this boy had absolutely astonishing her. All her feelings mix and overwhelm her, making the unshed wall of tears grow thicker.

“Can’t even look me in the eyes.” He chastised with a tone meant to belittle her.

That was when she had enough.

Y/n pushed herself away from the tree and whipped around to meet Fred’s eyes, the anger that swam in her eyes, swirling with the tears on the precipice of falling. Fred had never seen her with so much emotion and it was unnerving.  

“You know nothing Fred! Absolutely nothing! Stop trying to understand what’s going on, you’ll hurt yourself.” Venomous, pained, and waterlogged the words came out, an accusatory finger coming out to point in his direction violently.

He paused for a moment watching as she started to walk away, and for a moment he questioned himself.

Did he know what was happening?

But the thought was fleeting, and as she passed by him he tried to hit back one last time.

“I know you’re a whore, Y/n.”

The response he got was unexpected and chilling. Y/n started to laugh, and spoke with a tone so calm and leveled if Fred hadn’t been here fighting with her he would’ve thought she was bored.

“If I was such a whore... I would’ve shagged you.”

Taglist:

@crazylokonugget​ @alluringshawn​ @meph1stophelian​ @lol-idk-oops​ @slytherclaw1996​ @anywherebuthere​​ @freddieweasleyswife​​ 

@honey-honey-5644 @amourtentiaa​ @mariamermaid

[word-scribbless]

Gibbs x female reader

Warning: Sexual talk but no actual smut.

Summary: Y/N is an FBI profiler who consults with NCIS. Gibbs interigation of Holly Snow, and his remarks about how he may or may not be in the bedroom lead to interesting talks between Y/N and Gibbs.

A Time and a Place.

Masterlist

————————

Y/N watched the integration of Holly Snow with a small smirk and an undeniable twist of jealousy and something else she didn’t really want to name in her gut. Sure the FBI profiler had had a crush on the agent since she began consulting for NCIS about 5 years ago now. They always flirted, and he was nicer to her than anyone, but he was Gibbs. He was unattainable and she knew she had to just be happy with being flirty friends.

She stood on the other side of the interigation room glass, trying to hide how much his words were affecting her. Tony teased her enough as it was she didn’t need him to her reaction to Gibbs saying there was a ‘time and place’ to be rough fueling the fire. Which is why she waited until after the interrogation, when Gibbs had entered the observation room and tony had left to make her comment.

“Sooo” she said with a smile, watching as Gibbs turned a skeptical eye towards her. He knew that tone. “A time and a place huh?” Referring to Gibbs answer to Snow.

She watched Gibbs roll his eyes and move towards her. She didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened a little at her words though, and she loved that.

“Yn” he warned, fixing her with the Gibbs glare.

“What? She asked innocently, touching his forearm. He leaned closer to her and warned again.

“Yn...”

“Right not the time?” She smiled.

“Or the place.” He whispered teasingly in her ear. So close she could feel his breathe (and his smirk) on her neck. He Loved the shiver it caused in her. They were always playful and flirty but god she wished he’d make a move. She knew though, this was better than nothing. He was rarely this open with anyone.

“Okay okay” she held her hands up and began to walk away. “I’ll get back to work.”

Before she could get too far she felt Gibbs gentle grip on her arms. She turned back to face him and swallowed deeply at the look in his eyes. It was between desire, nerves, and something else she’s too scared to name.

“Tonight my place.” He said in the low gruff Gibbs voice that she loves.

She raised an eyebrow at him and smirked,

“Is that the time and place?” She joked.

“Mhm” he replied with a small smile before brushing some hair behind her ear gently and adding “it’s also a date.”

“A date?” She answered, breathless at his gentle touch and his unexpected request.

He Nodded at her with a smile.

“Okay I’ll be there” she nodded back, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

Before she could move to the door again Gibbs placed a kiss on her forehead and whispered “good”.

Causing her to smile as she reached for the door. “Tonight” she said with a smile.

“Tonight” he confirmed and watched her turn the handle to leave.

Relief washed over him that he finally was able to make a move.

Y/N wasn’t a new guest at Gibb’s house. They often had take out or watched movies. Tonight however, was the first time she was nervous. Those nerves quickly washed away as she laughed, and ate and drank with Gibbs.

Things were slightly different than usual, he sat a little closer, held her hand every once in a while, kissed her cheek. All things she decided, she’d love to get used to.

After dinner, they moved to the couch, Gibbs pulled her under his arm and they settled in to a comfortable silence as an old movie played.

Eventually y/n felt comfortable enough to bring back up their usual banter.

“So are we gonna talk about what you said today?” She smirked looking up at him.

“You really haven’t dropped that?” He chuckled.

“I mean I’ve thought about it, I’m curious.” She said and looked down shyly, realizing what she had just admitted to him.

“Oh yeah?” He smirked, lifting her chin back to look her in the eyes.

“Yeah, you’re sorta hard to figure out. You’re so stoic and strong I could see you liking to be rough but you’re also passionate and caring and careful, especially with me.”

He Huffed a small smile and looked a little shy at her words.

“What you think I don’t notice that you’re different towards me?”

Gibbs Shrugged, but she noticed the small smile didn’t leave his face.

“My favorite part of the day is when you look up from your coffee to check on me, or when you walk me to my car, just to make sure I’m not in the dark alone.” She admits and takes his hand.

He smiled at her and then reverted back to the original topic with a smirk.

“so what’s your assessment doc? Was I telling the truth?”

“I think so” she nodded

“Yeah?” He pressed and watched her nod before speaking again.

“There’s a time and a place. I think if you took me to your bedroom right now you’d be slow, and sweet. You’d still want to be in charge but you’d be careful with me. I think the more comfortable you got with me, the more we, were intimate...”She said and they both laughed softly. “you’d enjoy letting me take charge too. Let me set the pace, let me make you feel good, show you how sexy you are to me.” She said the last part softer, moving one of her hands to his chest. “But that takes trust, love.”

She said and they both looked down a bit shyly.

“Either way, you’d be sure I was take care of. safe but also...” she paused and then softly added “Satisfied, really satisfied.” She looked back up with a small smirk to see Gibbs smirking back at her.

“Am I right?” She asked quietly.

“Mhm” he nodded “you didn’t really mention the rough part too much though” he pushed, enjoying this side of her much more than he’d ever let himself before. They always joked about these things, but this, a real conversation about it? He couldn’t deny it was affecting him, in a very good way.

Y/N smiled and said “I think that’d be easier for you than letting me take charge. I think you’d like to be a little bit rough, make me breathless and clawing at your back, give a hickey or two, let me give you some. but you’d never hurt me, wouldn’t do anything too risky. I don’t think that type of rough would be enjoyable for you, even in a playful way. Which I appreciate.”

Gibbs nodded and replied. “I know.”

“You know?”

“Mhm” he replied causing y/n to raise a questioning eyebrow.

“You’re not the only one that’s thought about it.” He admitted and she could swear she say his face redden just a bit.

“Hmm what do you think I’d be like then?” She asked, readjusting her self so her legs were over his lap and she was facing him more, still tucked under his arm, his other arm now resting over her legs.

“Passionate,” he responded, looking away, almost as if he were imagining it. “you’d lose yourself in me. Throw your head back, move with me, trust me to take over. Trust me to give you pleasure and care for you.” He said softly, his eyes turning that dark color she had seen earlier as he looked back into her eyes.

“I do trust you.” She said taking his face In her hands.

“ I trust you too.” He said, pulling her closer by her wait.

“Yeah?” She whispered and he began to lean in.

“Mhm” he said before connecting their lips. She sighed at the feeling of his lips on hers and melted into him. Opening her lips to allow his tongue entrance. Gibbs began to deepen the kiss even more when Y/N pulled back gently.

His hand that wasn’t on her waist was cupping her cheek and he moved his thumb over it lightly, looking at her in question.

“Gibbs I think you know this, but sex, it it doesn’t come with out feelings for me.”

He nodded “I do know” he said and placed a loving kiss on her head, sensing that she wasn’t finished.

“I- I have feelings for you, feelings I’m not going to express fully because I don’t want to scare you away.” God she knew him too well.

“I’m not scared Y/N.” He assured her.

Sure he’d been terrified of his feelings for her at first. He denied them, wished them away, saw women that would never be her, but the truth was he didn’t want them to go away. He’d do anything for her, to make her happy, safe, loved. He wanted to be the one to deserve her, and he was ready to try to be.

“I know, but I know you, when your heart gets involved you shut down.” She said as she stroked his cheek.

“My hearts been involved for a long time.” He whispered, leaning in to kiss her nose and nuzzle his against her neck.

He knew being affectionate and truthful was the only way to show her he was serious. She hugged him tighter around the middle and asked the question he was waiting for.

“Rule 12?”

“You’re a consultant” he replied against the soft skin of her neck.

“Ahh a loop hole” she laughed softly and pulled back to look at him.

He nodded and lifted his head to look at her.

“I’d transfer” she said looking in his eyes.

He wasn’t expecting that.

“Y/n” he sighed.

“I don’t want to push you, if you don’t feel how I do, but Gibbs I lo- I care about you and I’d transfer if it would mean you giving this a chance.” She blurted.

“Don’t transfer.” He said cupping her cheek.

She nodded and looked down, a bit sadly. Gibbs realized she misunderstood him.

“I understand, but this, the things we talked about... in the bedroom, I can’t do that with out strings.” She said and Gibbs hated how defeated she sounded.

“I’m not asking you to.” He said

She nodded, still looking upset and he realized it was time to be be clear. He took a deep breath and put his hand on the side of her neck, guiding her eyes to his.

“I want this Y/N.” He confessed.

“You do?” She smiled wide as he nodded.

“Yes, I trust you. I know you deserve more than me...”

“N-“ she tried to disagree but he stopped her

“BUT. I know you don’t want anyone else. You deserve everything you want.”

She nodded and kissed him quickly.

“Jethro, I want you.” She whispered against his lips.

“I want you too.” He whispered back.

She kissed him again, slowly before pulling away and moving to straddle him.

“I want this” she said kissing his head, “this” kissing his heart, “and th-“ she began to say and move lower before he stopped her, pulling her back up.

“What?” She breathed out.

“Y/N I love you.” He breathed out quietly, staring into her eyes.

Her breath caught as she tried to speak. “I-“

“I needed you to know before this goes further.” He confessed.

His words caused her to smile and kiss him sweetly before pulling back, cupping his face and responding.

“I love you too jethro.”

“Mm” he hummed as he kissed her lips. “Good.” He said kissing her again. “Proceed.” He said looking toward where she was originally headed.

Y/N giggled along with his laugh and kissed him, repeating her previously intended path.

@diesinspanishbcimhispanic @averyhotchner

[final-fantasy-imagines]

ok! for ff13 can i request some angst/comfort hc’s for noel and snow ?? thank you in advance if you decide to write this 💕

Hey there! First of all, I'm so, so sorry that it took me so incredibly long to finish these headcanons. I hope you're still interested in this and like what I came up with! Have a good day/night and take care. <3

angst/comfort headcanons (gn!reader)

Noel Kreiss

Because of the things that happened in his future and everything he went through with Jul, Noel is always afraid of losing those dear to his heart. It’s not something he consciously worries about all the time but the thought is always there in the back of his mind to come forward whenever he needs or expects it the least.

What makes it even worse is that he never knows whether your present will turn into a dreadful or happy future. Every action has its consequences in the space-time- continuum but no one will ever be able to tell if the consequences are good or bad until they already happened. He hates that he can’t protect you from that, especially since he’s not sure how much he can tell you about all of that without changing the timeline too much.

With that being said, Noel also fears that his mere presence in your present age is enough to ruin your timeline. He doesn’t belong here, he knows that very well but he also can’t bring himself to leave and break your heart in the process. Being with you makes him feel a happiness he hasn’t experienced in ages and although he knows that it’s incredibly selfish, he just doesn’t want to let go of that feeling yet.

However, all of that doesn’t change the fact that you’re the only person who’s able to make him forget that the carries the weight of the whole world on his shoulders – at least for a while. Whenever you kiss him or snuggle up to him when you’re lounging around together he just feels at ease completely, and he really craves that. Noel might not be overly affectionate because he isn’t used to it but he appreciates every affection he receives from you.

He would probably never tell you about the things that keep him awake at night, simply because he feels like that’s the best way to protect you. You deserve to live your life to the fullest without worrying about your decisions and their consequences all the time, so he tries his best to keep everything, including his true origin, a secret. He hates to lie to you but since he does it to keep you safe, he can live with that.

Snow Villiers

Although Snow always acts like he’s the toughest guy on earth, he can’t deny that he has a deep fear of losing those he loves. It happened with Serah, it happened with Lightning, and a part of him is convinced that it’s going to happen with you too. The thought of being the one who’s left behind, being lonely and hopeless as a result, really terrifies him, especially since he knows very well how cruel fate can be.

He doesn’t talk about it too often but you know him well enough to notice when something is bothering him immediately. There are subtle changes in his behavior, like how his gaze always follows you when you move around the room or how he hugs you a little tighter and a little longer than he would normally. In moments like this, he just needs to make sure that you’re not going to vanish into thin air right in front of him to calm himself down.

Snow is pretty protective of the ones he loves, so he’d never let anything or anyone cause harm to you, even if he had to risk his own freedom or even his life to protect you. It’s a scary thought for both of you but your wellbeing and your safety are so important to him that he would gladly sacrifice himself for you. Keeping you safe is far more important than his own life, although it would definitely break your heart of he had to leave you behind for whatever reason.

Because of that, Snow cherishes every moment he can spend with you. He tries his best to live in the moment and not to worry about the future all the time because it wouldn’t change anything about possible future events and stuff like that. He wants to make as many memories as possible together with you to remember the good times whenever things get a bit rough or he finds himself worrying about losing you.

He knows that he can’t protect you from everything but he will definitely try it regardless. That means, he can get a bit overprotective sometimes, so better be prepared for that. He doesn’t mind if you or someone else teases him about it because he’s quick-witted enough to come up with an answer immediately which usually ends in a playful banter between the two of you until you burst out laughing. Those are actually some of Snow’s favorite moments because he just loves to see you so happy and carefree.

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed it please consider reblogging. I'd really appreciate the support. <3

Taglist: @cosmicdarlingx ,@thevoidwriting, @fandomatakeover18,@sixdaysofsilverashes, @theimaginaryheir, @scaraa

[seeds-and-sins]

The Other Side - Part One

Pairing: Jacob Seed x Reader, Eli Palmer x Reader

Rating: M (Language, Violence, Sexual Situations, Non-Consensual Interactions, Torture)

Description: You are the head of one of Eli's teams, and his sweetheart, then Jacob captures you.

- Part Two

- Part Three

- Final Part

War is never and will never be an easy road, especially when you are emotionally involved with the persons you fight beside. Brothers, sisters, friends, people you would do anything for, even die. That was the very case here, which made the decision of joining the Whitetail milita a double edged sword. On one end, you wanted to be near your friends so that you could protect them, but on the other end, being near them risked the possibility of failing them. You knew that failure, two tours in Iraq taught you about regret lived when someone you cared for died in the line of fire.

    So, when Eli asked you to join his crew, you were hesitant at first. You knew about the fiasco that had been going on with the cult, you would be lying if you said you didn't have to fend off the cult members from time to time. You promised yourself you'd never give into to violence ever again, and you didn't. You willed yourself to stand free, away from those harmful thoughts and memories, away from alcohol and flashbacks. Eli's ask stood against everything you had worked towards, the progress you had made since returning from overseas about seven years back. He knew that, the both of you had surely talked about it across a campfire once before. You could see it in his eyes, the hint of guilt, the desperation of having you beside him. The two of you had been more than acquaintances, more than friends after his divorce, but less than partners. There was certainly always something lingering there. That was what made you say 'yes', that was what made you hurl yourself back into the pool of demons you had ridded yourself of. Him.

   Three months in, after being a respective member of his main alpha team, you both made it official. This only seemed to make you more cautious about missions, about his safety, about the safety of the militia. It went both ways truly, but you never considered his feelings towards the matter as much as your own. This often led to arguments, loud shouting matches that never ended with a clear winner. The other militia members steered clear, sipped from their beer, conducted their surveillance ops, whatever kept them away from getting in between the two of you. One such argument took it to the next level, bordering damn near abusive at some point.

"I said, no! That's final!"

"Well, whatever you say I am still not going to listen to you! You aren't going out there!" In the past few weeks, Jacob had been getting more aggressive with his strategies, so much so, that it was starting to become too dangerous for Eli to leave the Den. Yet, for about a month Eli and you had developed a plan to cut off Jacob's weapons supplies. Such a convoy that took a path from John's region through the mountains and around to the Veteran's Center. It was a very complex, but heavily calculated plan, and you knew Eli was itching to be a part of it. Better you than him though.

"I'm in charge of this operation! Not you!"

"My point exactly, do you really think its a good idea to go out on a really important mission when Jacob wants your head on a silver platter?"

"The risks are the same now as they were then."

"Don't be ridiculous, Eli! You mean something to this cause!" You stepped around the map table and closed in on him, hands balled into fists, sweat on your brow.

"And you mean something to me." He muttered under his breath, those light brown pools not leaving your own, the tension in your shoulders dropped and you sighed. Almost instantly, the few standing members in the room began to clear out, even Tammy, who was Eli's strongest lieutenant left the room. You took a deep breath, stepped even closer to him, his head tilted down as he dropped his gaze.

"We knew what we were getting into when this started, El."

"If it was any other mission, I wouldn't mind, but this one is big." He finally raised his gaze, you grabbed his cheek and formed a sad smile on your lips, thumbs caressing gently at the scratchy skin above his beard.

"That's why I must go. I am the only one who knows this plan inside out and you are too valuable to lose."

"I hate it when you do this, (Y/N)."

"Do what?" He gripped your wrists with a sigh.

"Make it seem like I don't worry about losing you either." His eyes were like dark pools into another universe, and you wished for a moment that you could dive into them and be lost forever.

....

Thud!

     The metal bowl hit the ground, slop spitting out from its edges and pulling its weight to sit on its side.

"There ya' go, sinner. Same as yesterday's." The peggie grunted, rot shining in his steely grin as he then trotted away from the cage, leaving you to your devices. You sighed, feeling the slop become more and more appetizing each day was starting to become a concern. No matter how hard you tried not to eat, there was no denying the hunger that consumed you. In comparison to those locked in the cages surrounding you, while they starved and screamed for your meals, the food was a luxury. Yet, you could not give Jacob the benefit of the doubt.

     You eyed the tasteless grub, blotchy and red, with chunks of unknown substances stirred into its grime. It blended well with the dirt, that had turned soggy and muddy as the rain came and went. You prayed that that same rain would grace you, where it provided some shroud of comfort in this nothingless.

You committed to timing the guards on duty, understanding the cycles of prisoners as they underwent the seven days of hell that Jacob would put them through. You hadn't yet quite figured out how to get out of the cage itself, being so in the open, with an overall lack of materials, made the process difficult. It didn't help that as they days went by, one, two, three days so far, your thoughts had become more difficult to manage. Sleep was unattainable with the screams and the grime and the consistent playing of 'Only You' at the exact time every day.

   Jacob would stop by at his conveinience, you hadn't been here long enough to see him make a habit of it. He would pass through while making critiques on the work his men had been doing. He'd stop and stare for a moment, meet your solid glare with his own and then continue on. It had become no question that he knew who you were and your significance. You hoped that Eli wouldn't break under the threats you were certain that Jacob had been pushing on him. Jacob had yet to conduct any torture on you. Upon first meeting him, it wasn't difficult to distinguish who he was among the fleet of peggie scum that stood around him.

    The mission was obviously a failure, an ambush occurred, one of the Whitetails had been a traitor. You were so close to escaping before a peggie had managed to trail you down to the Henbane, knocking you unconscious. You were dragged into the prison-like walls of the veterans center, awakened by the shrill of terror echoing from the cages and the raw barks of crazed wolves. It was then that Jacob revealed himself to you. He said so little, but with his eyes you could see something stirring.

"Put her in one of the cages, I will deal with her later."

"Yes, sir." He never quite dealt with you though, although you wondered many times if he ever would. It didn't matter how. You would never speak a word to him, your love for Eli was too unconditional and strong and fierce. His authority resonated with you and you made note of it as one of Jacob's defining characteristics. He was like Eli's mirror, they would be friends if it was any other universe. For this, everytime that Jacob passed through, you conduct a thorough analysis. You would go back to Eli with all the information he would need. Not only on the compound, but on the enemy.

"Not hungry again I see?" You lifted your gaze from the bowl, so lost in your thoughts. You hadn't noticed that Jacob was coming around for his daily rounds. You hid your surprise at the fact that he was actually speaking to you today. "Is the food not to your liking?" His voice was so even, but strained, with his every breath, she could see his struggle. On the surface he was a strong man, inside he had his illnesses hidden. "I hope you don't mistake my kindness for weakness..." One of his men swiftly hurled the metal door open, grabbing the bowl and scooping its messy contents back in. "If you can't respect such kindness, then you don't deserve it." The peggie pulled away and returned the door to its locked and sturdy position. It was silent, but Jacob had remained posted at the bars of the cage, arms crossed, eyes focused. "I have decided what to do with you, wouldn't you like to know?" Those last few words were almost mocking you and taunting your existence. You could play games to, if that was what Jacob wanted from you for the time being.

"Kind of disappointed you didn't know to begin with..." You snorted and shook your head. "I thought you'd at least be somewhat prepared for this kind of situation."

"Oh, you aren't all that special. Maybe this cage has made you a bit cocky."

"Its not hard, especially when you're the person I have to look at all day." Jacob kept that composed expression, but you could tell the banter was getting to him. You felt you hadn't moved in days, but the effort to stand was well worth it. You grunted as you struggled to bring yourself to your feet, legs shaking slightly under you weight, and your head spun as you stepped forward. "Now, you might as well kill me, Seed. I am not saying a word." You inhaled sharply as you reached out for the bar not to far in front of Jacob, giving him your best smile.

"I already know everything I need to. The question is whether you are worth it or not." You smiled even further, feeling like you had won. For Eli. You knew Eli wouldn't dare risk the entirety of this militia and this operation and idea, for you. No matter how much love was worth, it wasn't worth hundreds of lives and the loss of freedom. The both of you had had this discussion before, however briefly and however painful it was to admit. The risks were a burden that hovered over the relationships, but the payoff always was worth the risks.

"I can promise you I am not. Eli knows the drill and I know my mission. I am better off dead than alive."

"Oh, you must be mistaken..." Your eyebrows furrowed and you couldn't help but swallow, your throat so dry that the sting lingered for a brief moment. Jacob's lips quirked up slightly and he stepped closer to the cage, as cool and as in authority as he was when you met him. Something was wrong. "Eli doesn't know I have you, and he never will." Your lips parted, the confusion deepened, further into your soul. "In fact, he thinks I've killed you already, isn't that somethin'?" You shook your head vigorously, not quite understanding-

"But then why am I here?! Why keep me alive?" You were the one that had become frantic, panicked, you lost your composure. Thoughts rustled through your head, all of which you couldn't control in this state, with this anxiety, and exhaustion, and hunger that coursed through you. Jacob shrugged, then so casually spun on his heel and started walking. "Wait! Stop!! I am talking to you!" You braced yourself against the bars, as tears streamed down you cheeks. Your greatest fear and you couldn't do anything about it. "Why?! Stop!" Jacob disappeared into a metal door of the veteran's center, its resounding slam emanated among the never ending chorus of screaming and crying from nearby cages.

You knew why: If Jacob couldn't get Eli to react with you alive, he would have to get Eli to react to you dead. And based on Jacob's smug glimmer, it was working.

Return to Prompts

[lostonehero]

Tw sexual themes mentions of child abuse mentions of murder

"Remember Maxie instincts are a powerful thing, even on land you cannot escape them."

"You'll never be human you idiot."

"Humans are food not something you should desire to be."

"You're the weakest here."

"You deserve every punishment."

"You were the mistake of mating season"

"Follow orders like your older siblings."

"You need to be punished."

Maxie gasps as he jolts upright in his bed

The red head fumbled for his morning coffee that nightmare, well more like memories he hasn't had in such a long time. He sighs mixing in a red liquid to his coffee and drinks. Human blood wasn't hard to get and it helped keep his instincts from going nuts because he was hungry. He sighs shaking his head of memories he didn't want to remember.

"Hey Maxie I thought you were going to sleep in, it's our day off, and Steven keeps telling you to rest more so then your former admins." Archie chuckles placing his hand on Maxie's shoulder.

Macie sighs, Archie did worry about him, they were still new to the whole dating thing so they were taking it slow. "Bad dreams Archie didn't want to return to it."

Archie frowns a look of concern in his eyes. "Was it about that day." He trails off referring to the day they both summoned two titans to destroy the world.

"Actually no, just old memories of family." Maxie frowns sipping his coffee.

Archie slightly taken aback. "You had bad parents?"

Maxie froze forgetting that he was never really open with his past to Archie even now that they were together. He sighs letting his guard down. "My siblings were kind my parents however were not you've seen my scars Archie they were from the many punishments I received from them."

"That's horrible Maxie."

"Its been a long time since I've seen them so don't fret that much."

"Is that why you're iffy around my folks."

"Yeah..." Maxie sighs one secret down the next he wasn't ready to face let alone tell Archie.

"Shit sorry"

"Not your fault Archie, besides I like your family."

"Right good so uh did you put your iron stuff in the whole coffee pot?"

Maxie chuckles. "No Archie just my cup I know better then to repeat that."

"Good because your supplements medication or whatever you put in your drink is horrible."

"To you."

"To everyone Maxie."

Maxie chuckles feeling better talking to Archie.

......

"I swear Archie something is up with Maxie." Shelly frowns sharing lunch with Archie on there break.

"I would normally disagree, but he has been awfully clingy lately and a but er forceful in other ways." Archie sighs a light dusting of red on his cheeks.

"Is he hurting you? Archie I swear I'll kill him."

Archie slightly stunned. "No no no not at all, actually it's the opposite besides the bedroom. He has been giving me gifts and little trinkets for the past week, and he has been singing whenever we are alone just to me. Weirdest part is that I keep catching Maxie lingering by the beach."

"Shit Archie that lava nerd hates the ocean. Do you think he might be getting sick because his behavior is weirder then normal."

"I don't know Shelly, he'll everytime I try to ask he gets weirdly embarrassed and runs off."

"That rock head is being weirder then normal uh has the bite mark he gave you gone away yet?"

Archie frowns and shakes his head. "It turned black and the doctors said it wasn't infected."

"That can't be good."

"I don't know Maxie keeps getting embarrassed or mad at himself whenever I bring it up. I think he might be harming himself over it but I'm fine with it, and I keep trying to tell him that."

"I can ask Courtney to help get Maxie to the doctor."

"I want to try to help first."

"I get it but if Maxie is being self destructive again he needs more help then you can give."

"I know amd I never want him to go down that path again."

"Just be careful and keep that nerd safe I hate to say it but he is good for you."

Archie nods throwing out his trash. "Yeah I'll tell you if something changes."

......

"Leader Maxie." Courtney's deadpan robotic tone nearly made Maxie jump out of his skin.

"What is it." Maxie snapped then sighs rubbing his temples he needed to reel in his temper, I was smack in the middle of mating season and he already marked Archie, and they were going at it like buneray but it wasn't what he needed. He knew he needed to claim Archie in the water to complete the bind as mates and his instincts were drinving him up the wall as he kept denying the action.

"My apologies for bothering you but we are growing concerned with your recent behavior."

Maxie freezes rubbing his temples. "Have I been that bad?"

"We are concerned for your mental health."

"I'm fine Courtney I promise." He pauses and scowls. "Don't argue with me I just have some personal issues to sort through."

She frowns and watches Maxie leave. Something was wrong and she needed to figure out what.

.....

Archie was playing with his sharpedo on the beach when Maxie approached him. "Good job Bruce you are such a good boy."

Maxie glares and unconsciously growls getting Archie's attetion.

"Maxie what are you doing all the way out here I thought your admins made sure you got some bed rest. We are just worried about you I know you don't like being locked-" Archie's words are cut off as Maxie forces him into a deep kiss.

Archie pushes him away. "Maxie what has gotten into you? Shit I'm calling the doc-" again Archie is cut off when he hears Maxie begin to sing but it was different it was as if his body was reacting to the song and his body was yelling get into the water and let him finish the bond. Archie blacked out after that.

~~

Maxie woke up and he felt like he was floating then he realized he was in the water. A weight was on top of him as he drifted in the ocean. Then it clicked it was Archie sleeping on top of him as he floated on the waves. "Fuck " he cursed waking up Archie.

Archie woke up wet sunburned and his ass was so sore, also where were his clothes and why was he drifting in the middle of the ocean. Panic started to bubble up in his chest as he was gripped from behind unable to struggle out of the grasp.

"Archie relax I can explain."

"Maxie? Fuck this has to be a dream."

"Archie relax please I'll get us back to shore."

Archie breaths eventually evened out as Maxie began to explain as they made the long trip back and turns out Bruce was with them the entire time and Archie decided riding on him was better then Maxie.

"Maxie I'm sorry."

"Stop it's my fault I forced you to mate, and I didn't even stop and ask if it was OK I just sang and I used you."

"Maxie stop I would of agreed regardless I love you."

Maxie sinks deeper to hide his face before resurfacing and splashing Archie.

Archie laughs feeling the tension leave. "Wait is that why you were acting weird?"

"It was mating season amd I was courting you."

"Is that what the gifts were, and the bite mark was a marking?"

"Y-yeah."

"And the constant sex?"

"Yeah sorry."

"I mean I'm not I found out I was a bottom and a size queen I feel no shame in learning new things about myself."

Maxie huffs frustrated. "Why aren't you mad at me, I lied to you about what I am, I used you, I bonded and mated you without explaining or asking for permission."

Archie sighs. "I was more worried you were hurting yourself again, and it turned out like this so I'm more relived then anything, slightly annoyed because I'm dating a damn ironic bastard who is a sea creature I used to have fantasies about."

"You're disgusting." Maxie tries to cover up his blush as they continue making Archie laugh.

"You know you love me, and now you're stuck with me."

"I know that doesn't mean I can't get annoyed with you."

They devolved into some nice banter as they reach the shore until Archie breaks it asking a simple question.

"So this is a one time thing right? You bonded and mated me so you're good right?"

Maxie watches Archie go back on land picking up his discarded clothes. "Not exactly."

"What?"

"Next year I might knock you up." He says quickly enough Archie almost doesn't catch it.

"What? Maxie last time I checked I am a man and that's impossible."

"Last time I checked I'm a siren and sirens during mating season biology for humans doesn't matter.... I mean well " he frowns trying to find the right words. "You'll develop the parts if it takes and they will vanish once you have the kids."

Archie stays quiet and Maxie frowns flinching and biting his tongue.

"I can be a dad, we don't have to adopt?"

Maxie slightly taken aback. "Well I mean you could but I won't force you not like this."

"No Maxie I always wanted a family of my own and he'll with our history nobody in there right mind would let two criminals adopt or foster a child. But I can still be a dad " Archie rushes back into the waves and grabs Maxie's hands. "We can be dads."

Maxie can feel himself pur and go red at the same time. "Archie relax I want to get my instincts in check, and I don't need you making a fuss over this."

"You purr this day keeps getting better doesn't it."

Maxie huffs but doesn't push Archie away. "I need to explain my instincts to you and my behaviors." He sighs "could you maybe get me a fresh pair of clothes my tail kind of destroyed my pants and my back fin ripped my shirt in two."

Archie laughs as he runs off to get the clothes leaving Maxie red faced in the water.

......

Maxie hands Archie a very detailed list of several pages. "Here is a detailed list of my instincts and behaviors you may witness and experience, I've also made copies for our former admins since I trust them with my secret... and they also seemed concerned for my wellbeing the past few weeks."

Archie hums reading over the list then pauses. "So the jealously thing was unintentional?"

Maxie looks away. "Well you are my mate now and sirens can be very protective of there mates, and I don't want to share you."

"Why aren't you annoyed when I hang out with Matt or Shelly?"

"There your family, I mean not by blood but I" he grumbles. "I can tell that you guys are family."

Archie blushes. "That's actually really sweet." He continues to read then stops again. "Wait how are you going to tell the others?"

"We have a pool in this facility I'll show by example. Physical proof is hard to disprove."

"Alright but are you ok with this?"

"Its not like I have a choice Tabitha found my blood packets last month and I had to make an excuse for that, and they are already concerned with my recent behavior. " he frowns. "And its not like I haven't saved them from drowning before."

"You did?"

"I mean yeah Courtney can't swim, and Tabitha gets a panic attack when in the water so swimming isn't a option for him. It wasn't there fault I just happened to be close enough to save them."

"Thats really sweet. You really are a big softie."

"I have eaten many men Archie I am terrifying."

Archie gives Maxie a soft kiss making the shorter man blush.

[peach-pops]

A Lovely Night

Author’s Note: This is very self indulgent but this was inspired by watching La La Land for the thousandth time and I absolutely love this song from the movie. You should def listen to it if you haven’t already!

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: None

Pairing: Tetsurō Kuroo

Fate had its way of bringing two people together and for a few passing moments, you were comfortable with the small interactions you found yourself in. 

Though after a while, maybe the universe became fed up with the lack of momentum between you and Kuroo and decided that as stubborn as the two of you were, it only made sense that the stars would align yet again so you could light the flame between the two of you. 

You both found yourselves at a formal party hosted by an old classmate of yours and for the hundredth time in only a span of few weeks, you found yourself right in front of him.

“It's pretty strange that we keep running into each other,” You smiled as you found yourself scooting over to leave some room for him to sit beside you.

Kuroo, with his oh so famous smirk, took the seat and stretched out obnoxiously so his thigh would touch yours,” Maybe it means something.”

“I doubt it.”

“ Yeah, I didn't think so.”

The problem wasn’t if there was a lack of chemistry because of course, as clear as day, anyone with two eyes could see the clear connection between the two of you.

No, the problem was admitting that possibly, deep down, you both had feelings for each other. Was it a sense of pride? Was there an accomplishment in not admitting these said feelings? Possibly, after all, Kuroo had a way of pushing your buttons like no one else could.

But there was a part of you that knew that he was the only one allowed to push you over the edge and vice versa. Chemistry or not, it was clear that feelings were involved. The only question is who would break first.

You weren’t quite sure how long you both would keep up the charade and you figured that the question would go unresolved once the two of you left the party so he could “walk you home”. That was a lie of course because as unlikely as you two were to admit it, the next couple of hours would be filled with everything that most people considered a date.

The streets of Japan is arguably one of the most private of public spaces, the streetlights and the humming of nearby restaurants made the silence between the two of you even more comfortable than it already was.

It wasn’t until your heel got stuck between a small crack that the atmosphere of the night was halted.

You braced yourself onto Kuroo’s strong arm to catch yourself which only caused him to let out a low chuckle,” Need me to carry you already? I told you to wear flats you know.”

“ Like I’d take fashion advice from you,” You fired back as you glanced down at his coat jacket that was wrapped around your small frame before rubbing the fabric between your fingers,” what is this, polyester?”

“ Wool.”

“ Right, and how was I supposed to know we’d do this much walking? I was promised a dinner and dessert yet you’ve taken me on a whole tour of Japan on foot. You offered to take me home hours ago, I’m pretty sure you’ve taken me hostage!”

Kuroo hardly flinched because you were right. After all, he only meant to take you home yet one thing led to another and the two of you found yourselves having dinner and then getting a sweet treat after.

He couldn’t help it, he didn’t want the night to end so soon so after the ice cream, he took you to an arcade filled with only Dance Dance Revolution games which prompted you to point out the row of Gashapon machines. This led to other locations like a midnight tea garden and an old karaoke bar for retired citizens, which wasn’t even the strangest place he took you that night.

A “date” that was only meant to be three hours tops came now to a total of almost double that time and even then, you both didn’t want the night to end. Of course, you both wouldn’t admit it outloud.

“ Holding you hostage? Sweetheart, I’m a gentleman, you could’ve left whenever you wanted and my ego would have been just fine,” Kuroo smirked as you only rolled your eyes.

“ A gentleman? You took me to a fish market!” You laughed, shaking your head in disbelief.

“ You said you wanted to go to the aquarium and since it was closed, I had to improvise. There’s always next time, right? I want to take you to this seafood place that has the best mackerel pike.”

“ Next time?” You teased as Kuroo’s heart skipped a beat,” Slow down there Romeo, what makes you think there will be a next time?”

He had met his match, only someone as vivacious as you could keep him on his toes and boy did he eat it up. The quick and effortless banter throughout the night had already won him over and no matter how hard he would try to pretend he couldn’t care, he knew he was utterly whipped already.

“ Romeo? You must have mixed me up with another guy you’re clearly not interested in cause I’m sure you would’ve remembered my name by now...Alisa?” Kuroo pretended to think over the name to distract you from his slip up of mentioning a second date.

It was too late, you had already caught his mistake but decided to play along because after all, you considered him a worthy opponent in your mutual bickering.

“ It’s Y/N, nice try though. Solid effort though Yaku...oh wait,” You clicked your tongue as Kuroo tried to hide the smile on his face,” that’s not you, that was your cute high school friend. My mistake Kuroo.”

You had wondered if you had taken it too far by bringing up his friend but without ruining the energy between the two of you, his fingers brushed against yours once before interlocking his with yours, the first intimate moment of the night.

Your throat felt dry and you were unsure of what to say because as cliche as it sounded, his hands fit perfectly in yours. Kuroo glanced over at you and smiled to himself because bingo, he finally had the upper hand and you were completely speechless at the simple gesture.

“ This is...nice,” You managed to say after a moment as Kuroo waited for another teasing comment,” very romantic if I do say so myself.”

“ Are you saying that there’s some chance at romance?”

You squeezed Kuroo’s hand as if to say yes but you shook your head,” Nope, no romance here.”

Kuroo nodded as he rubbed his thumb up against the side of your hand, your apartment building coming into full view. You noticed this and just like magic, you both slowed down your pace to stretch the night out just a bit longer.

“ I couldn’t agree with you more. I mean, come on, look at this view. To any other couple walking along at this hour, I would say it’s awfully romantic.”

“ Mhm, very romantic. Notice how the lanterns above are dimly lit, perfect mood lighting to a very romantic evening,” You agreed as you leaned into Kuroo’s shoulder which made his cheeks turn a flushed shade of pink.

You both walked up to the front door of your building but made no other attempt to leave,“ I feel guilty, there’s some couple out there that can’t enjoy this night like we did. It feels almost wasteful that the evening was spent on us.”

Kuroo turned you around so you could face him, smiling softly at the sight of your small frame wearing his coat. It was hardly chilly enough to even wear but Kuroo baited the offer of seeing you in his clothes and you took the bait willingly.

He tried to stay strong, he really did but he was only human. It was something about those deep eyes of yours that made his heart swoon and it had been years since he had ever felt so lovestruck for someone and he wasn’t going to let it all go to waste.

“ How unlucky of us, what a waste of a lovely night,” Kuroo sighed as he bent down a bit and poked his cheek with his pointer finger,” If only there was a way to somehow make it all worthwhile.”

Kuroo closed his eyes and prepped himself for a quick kiss on the cheek but felt completely unprepared when he felt your soft lips against his instead. Kuroo wanted to pull away before he lost himself completely but he couldn’t help it, your embrace was ever so intoxicating and he felt like he was in a trance.

As innocent as the kiss felt, you couldn’t help but smile against his lips once you felt him press back even harder as if he had been eager to kiss you all night (which he had). Before he could relish in the kiss longer, you pulled away to a bashful Kuroo.

“ I should probably tell you something now, just to get it out of the way,” You said softly as Kuroo hummed, wanting nothing more than to get back to kissing you,” I hate mackerel pike.”

“ Damn, then I don’t think this will work out,” Kuroo sighed before he leaned his head down to kiss you again because after all, who was he to deny the universe’s attempt at getting the two of you together at last.

[too-scared-to-do-this]

Of the Devil’s head

Chapter eleven - Hell’s fire couldn’t beat this

Sander’s sides fanfiction

Wordcount: 2851

Ship: prinxiety  (*cracks nuckles* This is going to be fun BJ)

TW: cursing, a bunch of flirting, friendly banter, naked torsos, a lot of flustering and a very shitty-ly described kissing scene. If I’ve missed any, let me know. <3

Summary of the whole story: They say, the one that wears the crown rules all - the living, the dead, the walking, the crawling, the rooted, the sane and the mad. They say, once you own the crown, you become the  most powerful being on Earth and beyond. Roman’s stolen bigger things - a measly little crown won’t present a problem, even if he has to steel it straight off of the devils head!

---------------------------------

Chapter eleven - Hell’s fire couldn’t beat this

“You know, for being the Devil, you aren’t such a though guy.” Roman grinned, holding Virgil a little tighter to himself subconsciously. He knew that was a lie, but couldn’t help but tease.  

The demon just chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Oh please. Have you seen my fangs?”

Ro smirked. “Yeah. Sharp and pointy. But don’t make you scary.” that was a lie as well. But it did bring him over to his next point. He’s green eyes got darker, eyelids lowering. “They make you look rather hot.”

A shower run up Virgil’s back at the purr. Yap. Nope. This was not happening. He immediately pushed up, away from the Human and darted out of bed. “I’m gonna go take a shower.” he stammered out.

Roman blinked at the red-faced Devil running around franticly, pulling out drawers left and right. He blinked again, as V pulled out a bunch of different pieces of clothes. He watched as he turned towards him, fabric flying through the air, and he couldn’t watch anymore. His sight was obscured by endless darkness - Virgil managed to hit him square in the face with a shirt. (He had a really good aim when stressed or embarrassed.)

“You need a change too. You can wait until I leave if you wanna shower - I’m not sure what Humans do… Is it like cats? Like, do you lick yourself clean? Because, ew, disgusting. But anyways…” that whole thing was rushed out in one nervous breath, deep voice pitched a lot higher. Cheeks a deeper red then before.  “Shower.” he quipped and slammed the door behind him.

And that’s when Roman just… started laughing. “What? The devil can’t handle a little flirting?”

The demon, redder than Hell’s fire at this point, let his forehead fall against dark wood. Oh, almighty Hades, why did this thief have such power over him? This was unhealthy.

Roman was still laughing his ass off. Lucky he hasn’t fallen off the bed yet, from how he was trashing around. Yeah, he was a complete goner. But at least now he knew how to get the devil flustered! Oh damn it, the demon was cute when red!  

And obviously, Virgil could hear it even through the sick lock door. He sighed and threw his close on the closed toilet. “A shower? Really?”

This was getting harder by the shortest passage of time.

What was the point anyways? He didn’t even need to shower! He could just snap his fingers and be done with it! The bathroom was built only because the running water seemed to calm the king down when he was in the midst of a panic attack. Yet he couldn’t think of a better excuse then a dumb shower! He was the Devil for dark’s sake!

“Hades, let’s just get this over with.” he rolled his eyes, and for once, actually got into that shower.

Meanwhile, Roman was still trashing around on the bed, laughing like crazy. It physically hurt at this point.

-

It wasn’t a long shower, but it seemed like forever to both creatures. One laying on bed, still kind of getting over post-laugh giggles and the other wrapping a towel around himself and leaning on the sink. Dark hair dripping purple from the die (he’ll have to touch it up later) and body still glistening from droplets.

Virgil wasn’t really sure what he was going to do now.

there was a man in his bedroom. One he literally slept on top of. A very, very gorgeous man! Infront of who he just completely humiliated himself. How will he now show his face?

The devil glanced into the mirror and bit his lip. Maybe not literally naked - he should really get dressed first. And then worry about facing the liveling.

He grabbed the clothes he threw aside, pulled all the pieces on. Just to find that in his hurry, he threw his own shirt at Roman.

“Shit… This is just great.” he sighed. All his former clothes were long gone, down the laundry drop.

Now. He could just snap his fingers to make a new one appears, or…

The glint was back in all six of the king’s eyes. He grinned to himself, fangs showing. “You mess with me…” he hummed, leaning closer to the mirror fixing his damp hair over his eye. “…I mess with you.”

Roman was on the bed still, trying to get his mind to stop coming back to how cute the demon was with red cheeks when the door creaked open.

He sat up immediately, about to say something snarky to tease the poor Devil, but he didn’t get to that. Mind completely short-circuiting, heart in his throat and words nowhere to find he eyed to exposed torso of the pail demon walking around in front of him. Did this man really not know what effect would this have on Roman?!

Oh, Virgil knew, believe me. He knew very well. Walking out like nothing, half naked with a towel around his neck, hair still wet and droplets of water still glistening on his skin here and there. He didn’t bother to look at the thief. Those holes that were being burned into his torso were enough to go by. And also, the fact he acted oblivious would make Roman even more flustered. That was a bonus.

Don’t get him wrong, it wasn’t like he was so proud of his body. But when you have time on your hands, why not work out, Eliminate at least one of the many insecurities. So yeah, he had a sixpack. Big deal.

Big deal indeed! Roman was dying on that bed! Mouth hanging half open, fully entranced by the beautiful chiseled entity in front of him. And then there was a shirt - again. Muscles moved as the delicious stomach got covered completely, only arms exposed.

The thief shook his head. “Why would you do that?!” he hated how clipped his voice sounded.

Virgil finally looked up at him, fully grinning on the inside. On the outside though, he just bit his lip and blinked innocently. “What?”

“T-that!” Roman moved his hands around rigidly, gesturing at Virgil whole.

“Oh that. I forgot my shirt.”

“Uhm. Yeah, yeah. You just so happen to forget your shirt. And then walk out looking like Michelangelo’s David!”

And that was all Virgil needed. His inner grin reached the poutside, wider and more menacing than ever. He latched onto those words like a lifeline. “Oh, liveling, you think I’m as hot as David?”

Roman’s cheeks grew even redder. “For you, information - I was talking about how pail you look. Not how hot he is.”

“Oh, so you have a thing for statues. Good to know.”

“No! Zeus! You were the one to bring it up!”

“I knew the guy personally; I can say he’s hot. You on the other hand, thiefy, you didn’t. What’s your excuse?”

“Wait, you knew David? How old are you?”

Virgil stopped to think for a second. Well… he didn’t really have an answer to that. “I’m not really sure.”

“Old enough to know him apparently! Man, you’re old!”

“And you apparently have a thing for old folks and stone-carvings.”

Cue offended thief noises. Virgil just snorted, walking towards the Human. “You didn’t deny it. So you admit you have a thing for me?”

“What?! No! You’re too old for me.”

“And you apparently can’t say anything other than old.“

“I’ll let you know! I can do and say a lot of things!”

“But escaping Hell isn’t one of them.”

“Low blow man!” Roman gasped dramatically, hand flying to his chest.

“I’m just saying… I could show you all the good hiding places.” Virgil grinned to himself, fangs showing again. This was way too much fun. The frustrated look the thief wore was priceless. He propped his hands on the mattress, leaning slightly towards Ro. “That way you might actually have a chance to succeed.”

“Hey!” Roman grabbed the first thing he could find and threw it at the crownless king. Hit him perfectly square in the face.

And then Ro remembered that this was still the Devil, he just threw a pillow at.

Oh no…

Virgil blinked. What just happened? He looked down at the pillow that plopped down guiltily between his hands and then back up at the reddening creature. “Did you just… throw a pillow at me?” he frowned in confusion.

The sitting one gulped. “Mayyyyybeee….?” he smiled nervously.

Virgil blinked again with eyes bigger than saucers. He looked back at the pillow.

And he burst out laughing. The low rumbled of baritone climbing under Romans skin like a parasite.

The Human didn’t know what to do! He couldn’t help but watch the creature. Fangs glistening in the dim light, cheeks hiding his already sunken in eyes. He was so adorable.

Virgil looked up just in time to catch Roman averting his eyes. His cheeks were getting pinker than before (which was saying something). And the king couldn’t help but smirk. “Are you blushing, Roman?”

Gods, hearing his name from the devil’s mouth! “What?! No! You must be hallucinating!” Roman turned his face away completely, cheeks getting dark red at this point.

Virgil bit his lip to keep him from grinning (it didn’t help). This was just too funny - watching this helpless human squirm.

“I’m pretty sure you were blushing.” he leaned even closer to Roman, watching him coolly.

“No, I wasn’t!” Ro peeped up, cringing at the sound of his own high-pitched voice.

By now Virgil was a mere breath away from the boiling thief. He bit his lip again, grin loose. Eyes sparkling with a mysterious glit. “Then why are your cheeks red?” he whispered, running his knuckles along Roman’s cheek.

The liveling was speechless. He was pretty sure he swallowed his tongue. “I-I did not notice.”

Virgil’s grin darkened. He could just kiss him right now. Lean in and kiss him right here. No one would know.

He had no idea where this newfound confidence was coming from. Maybe the ages of being alone. Maybe the feeling of this rush. Maybe even the fact that Roman was coming undone under his touch the same way Virgil felt himself fall apart under his.

And maybe it was the whole situation they were in

He didn’t realize he was staring at Romans lips. But Ro did notice. Every time he glanced up from V’s.

Funny how little time these two needed. But Hell was timeless after all. It could have been three days, or even three years Roman was stuck down there. There was no way to tell.

What he could tell though, was that ‘stuck’ was so far off from the way he was feeling down here. With this demon.

Who was looking at him as if he was his last wish.

Roman couldn’t take it anymore. It was now or never.

And suddenly Virgil wasn’t thinking anymore. Instead, he was pulled on top of Roman, pushing him into the pillows. Lips on lips.

Why did it take him so long?

---------------------------------

Why was this so hard?

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it :)

I’ll be back as soon as possible. Big ending’s coming up, so get ready!

Tag list:

@romano-hottopic

@vpow

@a-formless-entity

@lovelivingmydreams

@alice-only-me

[eligr33n]

Like Mocha and cream <3

Dream x George - Coffee shop! au

Part 1?

Authors note: Hi everyone! My name is Green, I’m a small aspiring author of fan fictions from all types, please forgive me if my writing is not very good! I’m frankly new to fanfic writing. Anyway enjoy reading (I hope!).

Words: 1174

Warnings: Small language warning! A lil' spice? Otherwise just fluff between two pinning messes :]]

•

It was 6pm, the most thrilling hour of Dream’s day, but as the door opened, he faintly heard the small golden bell that hung atop ring. Dream looked up from his bench of mismatched coffee cups and assorted clothes and turned his head to look behind him at what indicated a new.. or not so new customer.

George’s deep brown eyes skimmed along the small cafe’s walls, they were painted a delightfully lacking cream, but to compensate the quaint area held windows that sat on the left and front sides of the small shop, he then continued to look at the bar which sat at the left end of the shop it was crafted out of a pure spruce, which thus fit in with the rest of the shop that sat before him. To his right he noticed the wall lined with low rising seats, from edge to edge the cushiony dull black padding was placed upon a wooden base, decorated with dark green and muted blue throw pillows for a backing against the harsh brown brick wall, but with seats comes tables and so happened to be made out of once again a spruce, only two semi-medium tables sat in front of the seats that were bestowed upon such, they were short in width but long in length. Seeing to the other side he saw which was the normal seating arrangements is that three tables lined along the window edge, three seats to each with mis-matched metal chairs; accompanied by cushions - of which were the same colour variant as the throw pillows to his direct left.

Taking it all in George is reminded of how much he liked it, well of how he loved it. Many times had he been there it didn’t stray to make him feel at home, from the warm lighting to the kind atmosphere of the place nothing made him enjoy it more, just like how he enjoyed seeing with the cute blonde barista- but that doesn’t matter.

“Uh..hey? I’ll take th-“ George queried as he looked down at the menu not even looking to the barista yet, he needed to know if they raised the price on extra caramel - last time they did and it almost broke the bank for him

“The mocha? with two shots of caramel and extra whip cream plus chocolate drizzle on top?” The unknown tender piped in

“Oh yeah that’s the one! Wait Dream?”

“Yes dumbass, obviously it’s me everyone’s favorite, and cutest barista boy there is” Dream replied as he bashfully grinned ear to ear, finding his ‘friend’s’ ignorance to what was happening in front of him quite funny, placing his elbows atop the counter he locks eyes with George

George brings his arms to the counter alongside Dream mimicking his position “Stalker.”

“What? Me? A stalker? Say’s the one who comes here to see me everyday!” Dream leaning further into the counter, places the back of his hand to his head lightly lolling it backwards “This is utter slander I say! Slander!” He proclaims with a smile to his lips, returning his hands back to their original state, but not moving any the less backwards

“You work here Clay-“ George chimes, “You can’t deny the truth, obviously you can’t get enough of me and my coffee order”

“And what if that was why? But also you live twenty minutes away Gogy, that’s pretty far if you ask me~” Dream is slowly becoming closer, the counter top was not long enough for him to be a considerably safe distance from George’s face if he continued

“First off, not my point.” He huffs, slightly flushed from his remark, “Second how in prime’s name do you know that”

“Um.. I dunno man maybe because you took me back to your apartment once?”

“Shut up you make it sound like we fucked”

“You wish we did” Dream interjects

In a sudden burst of embarrassment George spurts out “Go fuck yourself that’s completely stupid, you’re dumb” His cheeks glow a bright red, taken a back from such a comment

“You’re cute when you’re blushing” Dream cooed, slowly ringing himself further in. Both him and George are leaning against the counter already giving them both a closer distance, but Dream’s slow incline is making the gap close

George pulls back adjusting his hoodie “I am so not, it’s hot is here”

“It’s hot in hereee, oh no george whatever shall we do in this -70 degree heat, my my~”

“I hate you” He pulls on the strings of his sage hoodie, letting go he moves his right hand towards the over the shoulder bag that sat across his chest resting on his right hip

“Love you more my prince” Dream said, as he then moved from leaning on his counter to the black coffee machine, slowly whipping up George’s feverously sweet drink.

They exchanged banter back and forth some flirty some not, discussing the small things though out their day, telling one and other about how their set up’s are going and what they plan on adding. Not a soul in sight were in the shop at the great hour of 7:43pm. Only the few that worked the night shift came though to help strive on with their lasting hours of work.

George stayed, it was like a small tradition. Each night he’d stay with Dream to help out, it had only started a year back after his maybe 3rd month of going to said shop, him and Dream had grown close over their fondness to gaming and such and one day George had found himself with Dream sitting on the top of the bar, it was 8pm and they had realized how time had gone by since his 6 o’clock arrival. Dream then had to tell him that packing up had to begin so George as the so giving guy he is made sure to help do so, and it definitely wasn’t for.. any other reason. And not as if that every moment he spent with his new friend he found himself wanting to run his fingers through said friends hair or that he wanted to hold onto him and not let go or maybe it could’ve been the fact that every time George looked into his eyes he couldn’t help but want the hold Dream’s face cup it in his hand and tilt his head to fit with his, that he would think about the way Dreams head would turn and move in slowly, closing eyes so their lips could meet one and other in a battle of romance and ever growing lust for one and other. George thought of how he would move one hand across his waist and the other to the back of Dream’s neck, how Dream's read would roll back... But George left those thoughts in box, a box left in lock and key, the type of lock and key not even blot cutters could cut, but maybe what could open it was a blonde boy and his charm.

[stydiaeverafter]

Ch2: One Bed, Two Hearts, Three Nights

Summary: Buck is extremely sore after a hard day of work—Eddie helps him out.

Rating: M

A/N: I'm so glad you're all enjoying the story so far. I had a lot of fun writing this 2nd chapter. I know it's a bit different from what we saw on the crossover, but things are progressing between these two, and it brings overall joy! Enjoy the chapter - I'm cranking up the heat!

Read on ao3

***

Chapter Two: 2nd Night  —

How was it possible to be this sore?

This thought had traveled into Buck's mind as he fell upon the bed as he and Eddie arrived back at the motel after their shift.

They had worked for hours without so much as a break but were making progress on the wildfire. It was enough to feel proud.

But Buck could barely move, even though he knew he was making the blankets all dirty. It was like having a chimney sweeper lie on your grandmother's new white sofa. Good thing it was just the disgusting unwashed motel comforter that could be burned afterward.

That's when he noticed Eddie standing by the bed. "Sorry, I don't think I'll be moving for a while," Buck groaned as he looked up at the ceiling noticing several distinct cracks.

"Nah, man, it's cool. Rest up, I feel it, too," Eddie replied as he bent his neck from side-to-side. "That shift was brutal. I thought I was going to collapse several times."

"Not you, Eddie Diaz. You were the most solid one out there."

"That I doubt," Eddie laughed, "but thank you." He shook his head, "There was that other firehouse, the 126, who were kicking major ass though. I could barely keep up with them."

"Seriously," Buck answered. "They were badasses in the field. When I grow up, I want to be just like them." Eddie laughed in response—Buck's favorite sound.

Buck didn't mention that it was bothering him that he couldn't seem to figure out where he'd seen that mysterious girl from, though. She had looked so familiar. However, tomorrow was another day. "I guess they're just used to the humidity on top of a blazing wildfire." Buck smirked as he looked up towards Eddie, "Probably why you were so successful, too."  

"One more day, and you'll be there," Eddie shrugged with an entertaining smirk.

"Not to be dramatic or anything, but I think I'll shrivel up into a melted carcass first."

"Lovely image. But hey, you're halfway there, so that's satisfying at least. The process won't be too grueling."

"I know! Even though I must say, my skin is silky smooth here. Just—"

"Like a baby's bottom?" Eddie suggested raising his perfect eyebrows. "Were you going to add that?"

Buck grinned mischievously, "Perhaps." Then he winked, which was Buck's pitiful attempt at flirting.

His partner knew just about everything there was to know about him. 

Well, not everything.

Eddie looked towards the bathroom, "Do you mind, while you're lying there turning into a corpse if I take the first shower tonight? I feel like I can't function with the smell of smoke on me, and I want to call Chris before it gets too late."

"Go for it," Buck responded as he sprawled out his arms, "I'll be here for a while."

Eddie looked at him with a beautiful grin, "Then I'll be sure to take my time."

"Just leave me some hot water, yeah?"

"Hey," Eddie snorted, "karma's a bitch, Buck. It was like Elsa's cavern when you were through with it last night."

Buck joined in with a chuckle and tilted his head up, "I don't know what's more amusing, the fact that you had to take an icy shower or the fact you're bringing Frozen into the conversation."

Eddie shrugged, "Chris likes it."

"Chris or you?"

His friend sat there for a moment then smiled slowly, "All right, fine. I like it. No, I love it, okay?"  

Eddie was too damn cute and soft when he wanted to be, usually only around Buck and his son.

"I get it. I get it. Just Let it Go, Eddie."

"Clever," Eddie applauded slowly. "Congratulations, you're a dork. I'm getting in the shower now."

"Be my guest," Buck answered, pointing to the door. He started humming the tune from Beauty and the Beast, a classic, and Eddie grinned again as he closed the door.

Buck smiled. He loved their playful banter. It was always just so comfortable being around the guy.

He touched his chest, and the humor drifted away. Buck recalled how when he had woken up this moment, Eddie had been holding him.

Buck exhaled, thinking about it some more. From the way Eddie's arms had been around him, his palms protectively on Buck's chest, to how Eddie had pressed his lips on his back, his hot breath a soothing embrace.

He had tried and failed miserably about not thinking about it all day. Their bare skin touching each other, and the fact Buck had been harder than a diamond because of it.

Buck had wanted to lace his fingers with Eddie's all day and ached to stay there, together, in their bubble of complete bliss. But duty, their duty, had called.

Eddie had finally woken up, even though Buck hadn't moved, and Buck had heard a shaky breath escape Eddie's mouth.

Slowly, as though his skin was being peeled off, Eddie had moved away and jumped out of bed. Perhaps it had panicked him, but luckily Eddie was polite and seemed happy as they had gotten ready.

But Buck had wanted to cry at the loss of Eddie's warmth, which was a surprise after how hot he had been all night.

Buck was surprised he had been able to focus on the job at hand at all. Now though, he had welcomed the thoughts back.

The room was cooler tonight, and Buck cursed, surprisingly. He debated turning the AC off so he could still sleep in boxer briefs and no shirt. He wanted and hoped to feel Eddie's body against his again even though he wanted to do a lot more than cuddle.

Hell, he wanted to straddle the guy and suck on Eddie's neck until his friend was moaning out his name, with fingers pulling his hair, messing it up entirely.

Buck wanted to move back-and-forth to feel that delicious hard friction that only they could create with one another till they were both sweaty and left panting.

God...he just wanted Eddie's hands all over him, to the point Buck started shaking, speculating about it.

He tried rubbing his arms to calm the aching need for Eddie just to take over his body and winced. Buck wanted it with his best friend in every way without ever seeing an end in sight.

"Do you want me to give you a massage?"

Buck sat up so fast that he cranked his neck, "What?"

Eddie was standing there with a towel around his waist, his hair curling slightly, and water droplets running down that gorgeous chest.

Buck wanted to lick it.

"You're rubbing your arms so hard it seems like you're going to snap them off," Eddie replied. "It's been quite the heavy lifting lately, so I could help relieve some tension if you'd like." He gave Buck a look that he couldn't quite place, "I'm pretty good."

Didn't Buck know it, yet God almighty, did he want Eddie to show him how good it could be in so many ways.

Just friends.

Did Eddie understand what he was offering? What it would mean to Buck?

Just friends.

Eddie was gazing at him with an intense look, staring as if he wanted to devour him.

Jesus, this didn't feel like just friends.

But he had to have Eddie's hands on him, and then, and only then, could he die happy. "Yeah, okay, thanks."

"I'm just going to give Chris a quick call first."

"Sounds good," Buck said. He looked at the bathroom, "I'll go take a shower, so you don't get dirt all over you again." On that clean sexy body, Buck wanted to add.

He shook his head—he was such a disaster.

Buck wanted to talk to Christopher again, but it probably wasn't the greatest of ideas with what he was thinking right now.

"Wouldn't want that," Eddie teased.

Being too turned on, Buck couldn't laugh. He just nodded.

Eddie's slowly faded, and Buck rushed into the bathroom and quickly closed the door.

He closed his eyes and put his head up against the bathroom door, catching the sweet scent of Eddie, wondering if there would ever be a time he wouldn't want Eddie Diaz.

Not in this lifetime, his heart whispered.

***

As Eddie talked to his son and Carla, he couldn't help but wonder what Buck had thought about before stepping into the bathroom. The strangest expression had masked up his face, and he had gone into hiding. Eddie acknowledged that Buck did that from time-to-time, but Eddie never wanted to push him for information that would make him uncomfortable.

There was still so much he didn't know about the guy's past. But then again, they all had a history, and sometimes, it wasn't welcomed with open arms.

His son had wanted to talk to Buck again, of course, but he didn't think Buck was in the mood with how he was feeling. Chris was disappointed, which made Eddie a bit sad. He hated denying his son of anything, but they exchanged their nightly farewells nonetheless.

Afterward, Eddie looked down at his hands. Had he really offered to massage his best friend, who he had deep feelings for? Sure had.

The truth was, he could see Buck was in a bit of discomfort, and he wanted to take care of him. The desire to do so was overwhelming. Also, Eddie hadn't been kidding; he was good at giving massages.

And there was the fact that he wanted, no, craved to touch Buck. The thought made him suddenly flustered, but he shook it off.

When Buck emerged without his shirt but comfy pants on, Eddie felt slightly disappointed. He had hoped for the same attire as last night, but then again, he wouldn't have been able to contain himself with Buck only in his underwear. No way.  No, this was the best move for both of them and Eddie's wandering hands.

"How's my little buddy doing?"

Eddie refrained from looking down at the front of his tight pants, surrounded by dirty thoughts, knowing good and well Buck meant his son.

"Chris is good. He and Carla are having a Marvel movie marathon and lots of popcorn."

"Ah man," Buck said, "sounds fun." Then he pouted, "He didn't want to talk to me? I tried to hurry."

Eddie's heart fell into his stomach, "Shoot. I didn't realize. I'm sorry. I thought maybe you were in too much pain, and it wouldn't be the best time."

"I am sore, badly, but I'm never too anything not to talk to that kid."

Beaming, Eddie acknowledged him, "He wanted to, so tomorrow, I promise."

"Deal." Buck rolled his shoulders and bit his full bottom lip that Eddie had dreamed countless times of sucking. "You seriously don't mind?" Buck asked with a sheepish grin.

"Of course not, c'mon."

"Where do you want me?"

Anywhere. Everywhere. Eddie cleared his throat, "The bed is fine." God,  why was he so nervous all of a sudden? This man in front of him was Buck, for crying out loud. You mean this gorgeous man you're in love with, his thoughts sang out, torturing him.

Eddie ran a hand through his hair, trying to gain some damn composure.

Buck collapsed ungracefully on the mattress and bounced. They both laughed, and it felt good to feel some normalcy for a change between them. Then again, he had always felt this way for the guy. Eddie had just forced it under the surface.

"Alright, Magic Fingers," Buck announced, propping his face on his crossed arms, "let's see what you've got."

"Magic Fingers, I like that, and be prepared to be amazed."

Buck exclaimed, raising an eyebrow as he looked over at Eddie, "I don't see all your essential oils out on display or hear your instrumental forest soundtrack in the background."

Eddie laughed, shuffling closer to the bed, "How many massages have you gotten?"

"Enough, and yet never enough if you know what I mean."

"Amen to that," Eddie answered. "Unfortunately, I left my essential massage kit at home, so you'll have to do with welcoming sticky humidity and the smell of sulfur surrounding us."

"Just spray your cologne in my direction," Buck replied, putting his face down into his arms, "it always smells nice."

Buck had noticed how he smelled, and the realization made his heart flutter. Eddie grinned, "Do you want me to?"

His friend just shrugged, "It'll remove the forever lingering smoke-smell out of my nose, so why not."

Alrighty then. Eddie walked over to the dresser, grabbed his cologne, and felt a bit ridiculous. But hey, if Buck wanted him to set the mood with a familiar and comforting smell, then so be it, he'd do it. Besides, it flattered Eddie that Buck thought he smelled good.

As he sprayed it around the room, but not too much, Buck made a noise of approval as he sniffed the air like a cute puppy, "Ahh, yes, there it is. Much better."

"I'm so glad I could be of assistance," Eddie said, putting the cologne down and coming back over.

"Now, if you could feed me a grape or two, then I'll be sure to leave you with a four-star rating."

"Why not five?"

"Well, you did forget the oils...so..."

They both laughed, and Eddie flexed his hands, feeling a bit tense himself, "Alright you, hold still."

"Yes, sir!"

Eddie tried to warm up his hands, but he was afraid they had gone a bit clammy. When he finally made contact with Buck's bareback, his friend jumped slightly and then stiffened. "Sorry..."

"No," Buck murmured, "no, it's fine."

He started at Buck's shoulders first, and the feeling of Buck's strong muscular shoulders were leaving Eddie weak in the knees.

When he added a bit more pressure, Buck moaned. Eddie froze, "Let me know if it's too much, okay?"

"It's perfect," Buck responded calmly. But as Eddie continued, he saw Buck's hand grab the sheet in his fist. He really must be sore, Eddie assumed.

Eddie moved to Buck's arms, wanting to help release some of the tension he was noticing, and Buck, as a result, opened his arms up wide, his cheek against the mattress, his eyes fluttering closed.

He was so fucking beautiful, Eddie could barely handle it.

Eddie so badly wanted to caress Buck's cheek with his fingers and then his lips. But he knew that would be going too far.

But he had to get closer—Eddie couldn't help it. He spread his legs on both sides of Buck's feet and leaned down, but not too much,

Eddie's hands slid over Buck's smooth arms until he was by the guy's hands. Buck released his fingers from the sheet and exhaled deep.

All Eddie wanted to do, was lace his fingers into Buck's...instead, he moved back up Buck's body. Buck's eyes fluttered open, and he watched Eddie for a moment, who quickly looked away before he got caught up in the mesmerizing gaze.

His hands trailed down Buck's body to his lower back and pushed deeply, knowing Buck would like this movement. Eddie was rewarded with a moan. That deep sound made Eddie want to do dirty, dirty things to his best friend.

When his palms were on Buck's hips, Eddie licked his lips. He craved to kiss and lick the smooth skin there.

As he started moving a bit slower, even further down Buck's body, he thrust his perfect hips into the mattress.

Holy shit.

Was Buck turned on? He couldn't be...but Eddie sure as hell was. He looked down at his own workout pants and saw the hard tent poking at the fabric.

Being this aroused, Eddie ached to move down to Buck's firm ass, which Eddie had luckily seen once or twice in the firehouse shower. It was a Greek statue of perfection. God, the memory had his body sparking with desire, with a passionate need he'd never felt before. One so intense that Eddie imagined spreading Buck's thighs out wide so he could lick up his hard thick length until Buck was practically panting and screaming out his name.  

As if Buck could read his thoughts, his hips started swiveling.

Fuck.  

Eddie had to end this. He had to stop right now before he straddled Buck and made sure the guy was leaking out in pleasure.

Peeling his hands from Buck's body caused him actual pain. It was torture. This entire act had been, but even more at the loss of touch.

Buck was biting his lip as he opened his eyes, obviously becoming aware of the loss himself.

They gazed at each other for a moment, and Buck breathed out slowly. "Um...I change my mind."

Eddie cleared his throat, not for the first time, "About what?"

"I'll give you five stars."

As Eddie smiled, he tried to shift his pants nonchalantly so Buck wouldn't see his obvious arousal. He didn't care if he woke up with the worst case of blue balls ever; Eddie refused to make his friend uncomfortable. Hell, they hadn't even talked about any of this yet.

Eddie looked down, hoping he hadn't already overstepped some unwritten friendship boundary.

"Hey," Buck said gently, breaking the silence, "thank you for that. I appreciate it. You were right about being pretty good, Magic Fingers; that was amazing." He started to lift his body off the bed, "I can move my shoulders again."

"Good," Eddie replied. "I'm glad."

Buck twisted back and smiled, wiggling his eyebrows up-and-down, "Would you like me to return the favor?"

Of course, Eddie did, but he didn't trust himself at that moment. Not with where his mind was so clearly taking him. Eddie's body was already sweating, and he felt like he was vibrating all over.

"Rain check?" He said. "I'm feeling pretty tired."

Buck's smile vanished, "Ah, yeah. Okay." Then he crawled to his side of the bed, "You're right. It's late, and we have day three tomorrow. Our last day."

Eddie quickly maneuvered into the bed, to be unseen. Once he was under the covers, he turned off the light.

"But hey, definitely a rain check, okay?" Buck replied in the dark. Eddie thought he caught a sense of longing, but he quickly shook that thought away. "I owe you."

"Absolutely. Pencil me in for tomorrow."

"Duly noted," Buck acknowledged, turning away to face the wall. Eddie could hear him sniff the air as if he wanted more of the scent, which resulted in Eddie smiling some more.

As he closed his eyes, Eddie realized Buck had kept his pants on. He wondered if the guy was finally getting used to the heat.  

***

Buck woke up sometime during the night and was pleasantly surprised and relieved that Eddie had once again wrapped his body like a snake around him. Sure, Buck was hotter than hell on earth, probably because he hadn't stripped down, which would've been dangerous with how out-of-his-mind-aroused he had been during that entire massage, but that didn't matter in the slightest.

He rolled his shoulders and smiled. Eddie hadn't been kidding—it had been a damn good massage, but what was more was who had given it to him. The way Eddie had touched his skin left Buck forever marked by the memory. He would now always crave more, especially when Eddie would casually touch him, which would indeed happen; the two were like magnets—attracted to close contact with each other.

So this moment, of Eddie holding him in his embrace, was Buck's oasis. He desired this type of warmth and connection that only Eddie could provide.

Ever so carefully, Buck brought Eddie's hand towards his mouth. Tenderly, Buck pressed his lips onto Eddie's rough knuckles.

He didn't let go of Eddie's hand afterward, nor would he ever again.

"I love you," he whispered in the dark. "I love you."

Eddie sighed in his sleep and snuggled in closer, his lips touching Buck's neck. How was it possible to be this in love?

Buck didn't sleep a wink that night, not that he minded. Instead, he embraced being in the arms of the most important person in his life.

[onlytaylor]

That time during the Battle of Hogwarts when Draco almost died in the Room of Requirement but kissed Harry Potter instead

Draco Malfoy limps. He fucking drags his leg behind him, pushing forward and sacrificing every ounce of repituity while doing so.

It was the fucking snake. Nagini, the one who’d lived with them for months at Malfoy Manor. The one who the Dark Lord had fed numerous times in front of his followers, Draco chewing his cheek with silent opposition.

And now, it had bit him right in the arse. Just a bit lower in all technicality, but Draco didn’t care. He just wanted solace.

He hadn’t meant to show the slightest reluctance to the Dark Lord’s plan to invade the school. To “catch Potter once and for all” as soon as his presence had been identified. Forgive him- Draco loved Hogwarts. It was the only place he’d ever felt (and he’d kill you if you knew this) home. At school, he had his friends. He had games of exploding snap and good-willed jabs between housemates and witty banter. He had Potter to annihalate with sarcastic comebacks and the like. It all gave him fuel; a sense of purpose.

Now, that fuel had been ignited by dark magic and curses that set the turrets on fire. Creatures ran rampant, killing those in their wake. Some of the braver students had stuck around and threw counter-spells from behind posts and make-shift debris walls. In the midst of it all, Draco limps.

He pulls his leg to the Room of Requirement, where he knows Potter will be. He’s known him far too long to guess his motives. His plans were like clockwork, a rhythmic and predictable rouse. Or maybe, Draco was just that keen at sensing his thoughts and ideas.

He doesn’t have a lot of time; he’s figured that much out. Even if he manages to outrun Voldemort, the poison will still inevitably travel through his circulatory system. He’s already broken into a cold sweat as he approaches his destination.

Potter’s already there, rummaging through stacks of decade old-belongings that only the Room of Hidden Things would hold. He’s clearly searching for something.

“Malfoy.” He starts, pointing his wand at Draco’s chest. He’s alone, and the silence that ensues is almost unsettling. But this time, Draco doesn’t care.

He doesn’t care that he’s spent the last 7 years arguing with this boy. He doesn’t give a flying fuck that he’s on the dead end of his wand. He’s dying, and he doesn’t bother with small details.

He focuses instead on the vibrancy of his stare, the way his green eyes cut through him like no one else ever could. The soft patches of dirt that bespeckle his face and hands from battle. The beads of sweat that slowly trickle down the side of his neck, reflecting his urgency.

“I don’t have time for games right now!” He shouts, eyes darting around the room for his lost object while his wand remains steady. They then come to rest on his form, his bloody and pathetic lower half that trails lifelessly behind him.

“Wait, Malfoy- you’re- you’re hurt.”

Draco doesn’t respond. He tells himself his hard swallow is the effect of the snake venom, but he knows it’s a lie. It’s always been.

The caring tone to Potter’s voice, the way he lowers his wand and rushes to inspect him regardless of his mission is enough to push him over the edge. To ignite that same fire deep within his belly, blazing wild and free.

“What happened?” Potter is close, too close, and Draco finds it hard to catch his breath. That’s what happens when you’re dying, right?

“Fucking snake,” is all he manages to squeak, and suddenly he’s light headed. He slides downward to the floor, and Potter, against all odds, reaches to catch him.

Now they’re both on the ground, Draco panting and Potter pointing his wand at the wound. “Reinervate!” He commands, but nothing happens.

Again, louder. “Reinervate!”

“It’s fine, Potter. Don’t waste your time on me. You’ve got bigger fish to fry.” He smirks, and this is all too real. Potter’s caring for him. It’s nice and warm. Peaceful.

“Fuck, Malfoy, when did you become such a selfless git?” He’s smiling, and Draco chuckles. It’s a beautiful truce, winding and weaving Draco whole.

“When you decided to save the world, I guess.” Living Draco Malfoy would never be so vulnerable, allowing the sharp silence to fill the air between them. He’d scoff, or roll his eyes before running infinitely in the opposite direction. Dying Draco, however, was a fucking sap. He refused to deny himself what he’d been missing, buried upon layers of mistakes and bad decisions. Potter draws in a sharp inspiration before settling into Draco’s gaze.

“Why didn’t you tell them? Bellatrix- you knew it was me. You knew it was me, and you didn’t say anything...”

Draco laughs softly. “Because, you idiot, it was always you. Always fucking you. And I fucked up; I ruined my chance to be good. But you... you are what good aspires to be. And I hate that about you, I always have.” He pauses, grinning and shaking his head at his own stupidity. “But it’s what makes you Saint Potter, and you deserve every piece of it.”

Potter’s mouth drops into the finest of “O’s,” and Draco can’t help but stare at the plump crimson of his lower lip.

“Malfoy- Draco- what the fuck,” he whispers, and it’s not a question, but a foretelling. His voice is raspy; he swallows hard against a dry throat. His eyes are reflective pools of the past seven years, memories dancing across his irises as he realizes the implication of Draco’s words. He licks his lips, studying the boy before him. The boy that was wholesome and selfless and good despite all previous notion.

Before he can answer, Draco points upward. “Potter, look,” He states, his hazy vision landing on the most peculiar glint of sapphire. “It’s a diadem. Isn’t it pretty?”

“It’s a-“ Harry turns suddenly, whipping toward the direction of Draco’s gesture. Sure enough, there, propped against a dusty old mannequin atop a mound of antiquities, was exactly what he’d been looking for.

His face lights up, cheeks a rosy pink as they’re pulled taut. “Draco, you fucking prat, you found it! You-“

He jolts back to look at him, but his lids have come to a gentle close. His chest rises and falls in a shallow rhythm, and Harry notices the amount of blood that’s pooled around them.

“Draco, no! Fuck!” He glances around, desperate for some sort of answer, before deciding to cup Draco’s face in his hands.

“You can’t go and do this now, you wanker! Not when you just told me how you feel! Draco, please, please-“ he Grips for dear life, but Draco’s face is cool to the touch.

His stomach clenches. How has everything he’d known to be true flipped in just a matter of minutes? How did he end up here, begging his arch nemesis to be alive?

He runs a hand along the edge of Draco’s jaw, and he stirs a bit. His fingers glide lower, down the soft plane of his neck and collarbone. Draco shivers. Potter laughs.

“You like that, don’t you?” He smiles, playfully amused as he trails a path down Draco’s chest. The caress is heaven, and in his semiconscious state Draco feels whole. Green eyes flicker down to his lips, pale but smooth despite his current state. Harry knows this is it, and it’s all or nothing. There is no longer right and wrong; light or darkness. It’s only Draco, and himself, and everything that he’d thought he’d known to be true snowing gently in broken bits all around them.

He bites his lip, making a characteristically Harry decision- a rash, exuberant, intuition-driven thought that just feels right. And as he leans forward, closing the gap between them, he knows there’s no going back.

He’s going to get them out of here. Destroy the diadem. And- Goddamnit- Draco is going to get another chance.

Draco’s eyes fly open as Harry presses their lips into a soft embrace. It’s as if kissing fucking Harry Potter causes more of a shock to his system than the venom coursing through his veins, and suddenly he’s wide awake.

His hands are tingling; he’s nauseous; the room is spinning. And absolutely no part of that has to do with the injury to his leg.

Draco relaxes; allows himself to succumb to the warmth that spreads throughout his body. God, Nothing had ever felt like this before. If this was the type of reprieve that dying got him, then by golly-

Harry pulls away suddenly, and the absence is heavily vacant upon his lips. His stomach twinges as Harry snaps upward. It is all too evident that they are no longer alone.

“Potter! I fucking found you! You’re dead!” The voice belongs to Crabbe, and Draco is just coherent enough to make out his figure. He’s accompanied by Goyle, waving his wand about, attempting haphazardly to bring about some type of spell. Draco raises a weak hand to protest, but flames are already shooting from the tip of his wand toward a pile of rubbish beside them.

“Fu-fucking fiendfyre,” he whispers, and realization dawns on Harry as he realizes what Draco’s said. Crabbe wasn’t joking. They needed to get the diadem and get the fuck out of there.

In the nick of time, the door opens to reveal Weasley and Granger, who immediately hurl spells at Draco’s childhood friends. The robotic henchmen that he’s realized were no more loyal to him than his own father. They were blind, the lot of them, sightlessly following orders from the Dark Lord. Draco dodges, protecting his face from the fallout. Magic sparks the air, and an urgency radiates between all parties as Crabbe’s flames begin to violently spread.

Harry squeezes his hand before jetting forward, climbing the Mound of Things to retrieve the diadem. Crabbe and Goyle are distracted momentarily by the fire, which has formed the shape of a large serpent and seems to be forming ideas by its own volition.

Ron Weasley stares with his mouth open as the snake rears it’s head, and even Crabbe seems surprised at his own doing. Hermione, in a fit of logic, grasps his hand and pulls him from the direct path of the flames as the serpent strikes.

Harry’s tumbling, struggling to find hand-holds in the pile as things get heated. He’s almost to the diadem, and Draco is silently willing his thoughts to persuade his victory. He can hardly move, and in the midst of chaos he notices that his leg is tingling.

In the next moment, several things seem to happen simultaneously. Harry suddenly grabs the diadem. Ron and Hermione have summoned brooms and are hastily mounting their only means of escape. Crabbe and Goyle back away, terrified, as the snake turns on its master and slithers toward them. Draco observes it all, shaking slightly as his muscles contract involuntarily. His leg, it’s burning, and it’s as if the more the flames travel from object to object the more consuming the pain becomes.

Ron and Hermione are ascending rapidly toward Harry. The flames are climbing higher, ignited on old parchment rolls and other treasures from previous students. Harry is pulled onto Ron’s broomstick as he steers to the exit.

Harry screams objections, yelling at his friend to turn the broom around. Draco’s stomach lurches at the sentiment, but he knows it’s over for him.

The serpent’s attention is diverted to the trio as they halt and sharply turn backward. Weasley’s grumbling is barely audible above the high-pitched whine of the fire, and Draco begins to cough as smoke chokes the air.

The snake strikes, and a shower of flames lands around him. His leg, it’s on fire, it’s on fucking fire...

The pain intensifies. He’s going to pass out soon, he’s sure. His flesh is screaming, but all he can vocalize is a string of choked coughs. His throat is raw, but it’s nothing, nothing compared to the bite of that fucking snake...

He’s barely conscious, but he feels a tugging sensation on his limbs. And then he’s weightless, like he’s riding on air. The pain, it’s lessening. He must be close to death...

Harry. He thinks of that kiss, the one that forever erased the line between good and evil. How ironically it was the most alive he’d ever felt. And how if heaven was real, and if Draco Malfoy was lucky enough to end up there, he’d spend an eternity reveling in that one moment.

He allows his thoughts to consume him, until his leg is painless. He’s floating, flying... until he’s not.

He feels himself fall, tumbling forward, and then the slam of the floor against his chest brings him back to reality. His eyes flash open, miraculously, to find that he’s facing the entrance to the Room of Requirement. The door is closing, and there’s a serpent, and the room is engulfed in flames...

But as it seals shut, he’s left in the silence that he suddenly realizes is indicative of his safety. Next to him is Granger, pulling Ron to a standing position. On his other side is Harry, fucking Harry...

He’s lifting himself from the floor and begins running straight toward Draco, bruised and splattered with soot. Before he can open his mouth to speak, Harry’s arms are thrown around him.

“Your leg, Draco! How is it?” He pants, pulling away slightly to examine the wound.

But it’s vanished.

Draco’s mouth falls inexplicably, and he’s unable to make sense of anything that’s happened in the past ten minutes.

He gapes stupidly, breath heading as he grasps the fact that he’s suddenly fucking alive and his leg doesn’t hurt and there’s no bite. And Harry fucking Potter is still holding him, and it’s so much that he can’t handle it.

Overwhelmed with emotion, he stares at Potter, who’s a fucking light at the end of the incessant, winding tunnel that’s been his life the past few years. He becomes lost in the details of his face, cheeks flushed crimson with adventure and green eyes peering from behind glasses that were probably permanently crooked by now. He pulls his lip between his teeth as he too contemplates what happened.

“Fiendfyre.” Granger’s voice pierces the quiet confusion. “It’s a dark enough spell to destroy a horcrux. That’s why when you dropped the diadem, Harry, it disentigrated.”

“Oh my God, Hermione, Nagini is-“

“A horcrux.” She finished, and Draco glanced between them. Ron’s eyes were glazed over, and for the first time in his life Draco Malfoy felt he could relate. The logistics of it all quickly faded however as Harry’s eyes positively brightened.

“Draco, I don’t know fucking how, but when the fiendfyre caught your leg... it must have reversed the effects of the snake bite.” He’s smiling, a wide, wholesome grin, and Draco finally catches his breath.

“I’m- I’m not dying,” he declares, more to himself than anyone else, and Harry’s still beaming as he presses a continuation of their earlier kiss to his lips. It’s war, but in this brief moment, they’re fucking happy, and that’s all that matters.

“You know, I’m not dying, Hermione,” Ron tries with a helpless shrug, and she blushes before slapping his arm.

“Come on, boys,” she says determinedly to them all, “we’ve got a war to win.”

[coles-number-one-whore]

Warnings! Major Character Death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Panic Attacks, Self-Hatred, Self-Deprecating, Self-blaming, Fusion 

Based on this post I made.

Fallen Kingdom

Roman was wondering. Wondering how the king was. Wondering how the others were with the King around.

He knocked on Remus' door hesitantly, flinching when the sound of several crashes were heard before Remus opened his door.

"Oh look who it is!" He grinned. "My dear brother! What brings you around?"

"I just wanted to know... Do you ever wonder how things were when we were one?" He watched as Remus' grin dropped and he shook his head. "Do you want to find out?"

"Dunno." The chaotic twin shrugged. "Do you wanna find out?

"It surely wouldn't hurt." Roman muttered.

Almost immediately, Remus' grin was back as he took his twin's hand.

"Then let this party start!"

~•~

"Woah. This place is so dark and freaky. It's amazing!"

"Yeah. Sure. Amazing. Sure. Where are we anyways?"

"I think we did it Ro! We're the King again!"

~•~

It was his fault. It was his fault and no one else's. It was Roman's fault and no one else's. He was the one who'd done it.

He was the one who'd asked Remus to do it with him. Roman was the one who'd asked Remus to fuse with him.

It was all his fault.

He couldn't stand going into the imagination anymore. It was all a reminder. Of when he and Remus had just split and there were no Light and Dark. When they were just them. Not the Prince and the Duke. Just brothers.

But now he was gone and his part of the imagination was slowly withering and disappearing.

Roman couldn't stand it.

He couldn't watch.

Remus was gone.

Did that make him the king now?

Roman had sat there, thinking about how Virgil always compared him and Remus to Thor and Loki, hoping that Remus had actually pulled a Loki and faked it so he could see Roman cry for once.

Deep down he knew that wasn't it.

He cried for him.

But nobody came.

~•~

Patton was baking that night. He had found a new recipe and wanted to try it out, he decided to call for Roman to be his taste-tester, since everyone else seemed too busy at the moment. "Roman, kiddo! Can you come downstairs for a bit and try my cupcakes?"

He frowned when he didn't hear any answer and went to investigate.

The door he found wasn't Roman's door though. It wasn't the red door with glitter stars on it, instead it was replaced by a normal white door with golden swirling patterns.

Patton rubbed his eyes in amazement, not believing what he was seeing. Surely it couldn't be...

The moral side took a deep breath and mustered up the courage to knock on the door.

"Oh! Hello there, Morality."

Patton couldn't help but let his smile spread.

~•~

"I think it's working Remus! See how happy Patton looks?"

"Yeah yeah I can see the froggy going all starry-eyed when he sees us."

"Where are you? This place is so dark, I can't even see you."

"Oh don't worry! I'm right here beside you. Just like I'm haunting you forever!"

~•~

Morality was curled up on the couch, staring at the air like it was the most interesting thing in the world. He still couldn't believe what had happened.

There was the broken vase, shattered into a million pieces and now lying on the ground. Usually it would've been Remus' fault. Usually it would've been Remus being too caught up in his disturbing thoughts to notice where he was going until he had broken something.

But not this time. This time it was Roman, with one of his more violent outbursts, when he insisted on blaming himself for what had happened.

Patton felt powerless. Before, when he felt like that, he used to bake. But there was some sort of awkward silence in the kitchen that he couldn't stand.

Before, when the silence was like that, Remus would've come around the kitchen and started just talking so the silence wouldn't linger for too long. It wasn't that Patton exactly like the ideas the chaotic side had, but there was just something endearing about how he would sit on the counter and babble on and on about the most random things, as long as you didn't pay too much attention to what he was exactly saying.

It was quiet. So so quiet.

He hated the quiet.

~•~

Logan didn't know what to make out from the King's return. He wasn't repressing his thoughts this time though, he really didn't have much of an opinion on it. He didn't exactly like the king that much anymore, he would deny it, but he might miss the twins constant banters and arguments, but he didn't dislike him either, he understood that the existence of one Creativity as a whole would benefit Thomas' mental state.

So when Patton very rudely rose up into his room excitedly, albeit without asking for permission, and babbling some incoherent nonesense as he dragged Logan to the living room, the logical side was a bit confused about all of Patton's commotion.

So he just accepted it. The King was back. There was only one Creativity from then on. Hopefully this would help things go better.

There was just one thing that slightly worried Logic. It was that the King insisted on calling himself Romulus. Normally, he couldn't care less about that and would move on from it, but there was this feeling inside of him that told him that wasn't it.

He looked into the myth about Romulus and hoped that it was just a sick joke. Remus was part of this after all, he would probably do something like that to make anyone who looked to deep freak out.

Right?

~•~

"Why Romulus though?"

"Nothing, just thought it sounded cool!"

"How come?"

"Don't tell me you haven't looked up what our names mean."

"..."

"Oh you definitely haven't. It's nothing, you can look it up after we decide to split again anyways."

~•~

Logan tried to ignore the tension in the mindscape as he cleaned up the lunch table and throwing away the mostly half-eaten food. Just a few more minutes. A few more minutes and you'll be back in your room.

He rose up in his room the second he was done cleaning up after everyone and plopped onto his bed.

He looked up at the painted stars on his ceiling, trying to make out the constellations in them and ignore how bad he still was at emotions.

He was sad. He wanted to cry. He had lost one of the few sides he'd call his friend. He had lost one of the few people who would drag him along for stargazing in the darker part of the imagination, where they could see the stars properly without all the lanterns flying around in his twin's half. He had lost the one person that would sit with him and they'd exchange creepy and gross facts.

Funny enough, he didn't cry when he thought of those moments, and how he won't have them again.

It seemed to only hit at the most random times, when he wasn't thinking about them. Like when he was reading a book or brushing his teeth or just wandering the mindscape out of boredom.

Those always seemed to be the moments that his mind like to remind him how he had told off the warning.

~•~

Virgil didn't like Romulus, to say the least. He didn't like how Patton would look at him with so much joy and how Logan didn't seem to mind him at all. All he could feel about the King was the crippling sense of dread that seemed to take over him whenever he looked at the side.

So he wondered. Wondered if the two sides could hear him if he talked to Romulus. Wondered if they'd split again if they were told to. Wondered if Remus would hear him of he decided to apologise for being a jerk to them after leaving.

Yet, everytime he tried to get even near the royal, he would feel a suffocating sense of despair that would drive him to getting as far away from Romulus as possible, even if the man was just waving and smiling kindly at him.

Maybe tomorrow, he told himself every day.

~•~

"Ro we should talk to the little nightmare."

"Oh I'm sure he'll be fine soon, Remus. No need to worry!"

"Alright I guess..."

~•~

Stupid little good-for-nothing. He couldn't breath. He couldn't think properly. Oh god, what was happening? Why couldn't he breath? Why didn't you just tell him, you useless hypocrite?

Remus. Remus was gone. He hadn't apologised and now he'd never have the chance to.

You really are dumb. What made you think he would forgive you anyway? Especially after how you were that last time.

He used to be happy with them too. Just the three of them. The dark sides. The terror's of the mindscape. It was a fun time.

Him and Remus would cause trouble all the time, and then Janus would come after them and clean up their mess. Sometimes they'd pull pranks on the other residents of the mindscape. Sometimes they would just sit around with a few board games and a batch of cupcakes or cookies, stay up all night playing and later wake up and see that they had fallen sleep on the ground. Remus would always win Space Encounters and Candyland.

The thought of those times only made more tears slip out from his eyes and blur his vision.

Idiot.

Useless.

~•~

Janus would be lying if he said he didn't miss Remus, then again, he was Deceit. The darker part of the mindscape was now quiet without Remus' constant chatter.

He would be lying if he said he was happy with the arrangement.

But he'd also be lying if he said it wasn't helping Thomas.

Wasn't he a liar though?

~•~

"You've been quiet. Is something wrong?"

"..."

"Remus? Are you alright?"

"I-- Yeah, I'm fine. Do you know that if mermaid's existed, they'd have tp pee from their belly button?"

"...I did not need that imagery."

~•~

It was cold. Janus pulled the blanket over himself tighter. Once upon a time, Remus and Virgil would also huddle under it with him. But now Remus was gone and Virgil hated him and it was colder than ever.

He was pitiful, hiding under his blankets all day and flipping off anyone who came near him. It was just like when Virgil had dumped them for the 'Light' Sides.

Except back then Remus helped.

Back then Remus would ignore all the little things that bothered him, whether it was that Virgil didn't like them anymore or that his favourite show had ended. Instead he popped around his room with baked goods and cheesy comedy movies to try tonmake him feel better.

He wondered if he should just stay in his room forever, maybe then someone else would come for him.

~•~

Romulus didn't know when it started. At first it was just a tingling in his chest, a sensation of something being wrong.

Little by little, it got more and more, until its pain was unbearable. Until he could barely breath anymore. He fell to the ground.

~•~

"Are you there? You've been awfully quiet lately."

"..."

"Remus?"

"..."

"

"Remus?!"

~•~

Roman gasped as he got back om his feet. The split had left him in a daze. "Remus?" He looked around, panicking when his brother was nowhere to be seen.

He screamed when he realized what had happened.

Remus was gone.

There was no Duke now.

There was only the Prince.

~•~

A/N: All kinds of comments are appreciated. Short comments, Long comments, Very short comments, extra gigantic comments, Extra hearts, Hating me for creating this, EVERYTHING!

Taglist: @stationery-cum @meowthefluffy

[ollieofthebeholder]

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] Also on AO3

Chapter 11: Sasha

They all jump at the sound of the recorder clicking off. Tim sits up straighter and rubs his hands together.

“Well!” he says in what Sasha can tell is a falsely cheerful voice. “I think that’s enough earth-shattering revelations for one night. Who wants that whiskey now?”

“I refuse to get drunk around you again,” Sasha says. It’s a pathetic attempt at their usual banter, but it does get a genuine smirk out of Tim, complete with that unfairly attractive dimple.

Jon exhales heavily. He pulls off his glasses with one hand and rubs at his eyes with the other. “I should…probably get going.”

“The hell you will,” Tim says immediately. “Look at you. If I let you out the door, you’ll fall asleep at the wheel and die before you get to the end of the block. You’re staying the night.”

“Tim, while I appreciate the offer—”

“Nope, not interested in the rest of that sentence. The only thing keeping you upright is the arm of the sofa and the starch in your underpants.”

“And the stick jammed up my ass, no doubt?” Jon raises an eyebrow.

Tim grins. “See? You’re so tired you’re actually joking around with me. Stay the night, and tomorrow we can get answers out of them first thing.” He stands up without waiting for an answer. “One of you can take the sofa, the other one can have the love seat. Unless you want to build a blanket fort on the floor, but it wouldn’t be fair to leave Martin out. We’ll let the old folks fight over the bed.”

“Old folks?” Jon Prime repeats indignantly. He shoots an obviously exaggerated glare at Martin Prime, who isn’t even bothering to hide his snickers. “We don’t look that bad.”

Tim laughs. He’s the only one that doesn’t seem that tired, really. “Come on, you two. I’ll show you where the bedroom is.”

Jon Prime gets to his feet, then hesitates and glances at Martin Prime. Sasha wonders how blind Martin Prime actually is, because he seems to respond to that look; he hesitantly reaches out in Jon Prime’s direction. Jon Prime takes his arm without further comment, and Sasha watches Martin Prime’s shoulders slump in evident relief before the two of them quietly wish the rest of them goodnight and follow Tim down the hall.

Sasha watches them for a moment, then glances at Jon and Martin, who are both avoiding looking at one another. She decides to give them a little space and go gather up the spare blankets and pillows. They probably both need a minute or two to process what they just heard.

Truthfully, Sasha’s not sure what she thinks of it either. She’s impressed that Martin Prime isn’t passively rolling over and taking whatever Jon Prime dishes out, and she’s a little bit in awe of his strength. Could she have survived two weeks alone and blind, let alone in the Archives? That feeling of being watched is creepy enough when she can look over her shoulder and confirm nobody’s actually there; she can’t imagine what it would be like if she didn’t have that option. It must be terrifying, but Martin Prime hasn’t shown it.

She’s also—there’s no denying it—curious as all get-out. She kind of wants to interrogate Martin Prime, find out how he lost his eyesight, if it’s total vision loss or partial, if he thinks it’s temporary or permanent. What it’s like being blind in general, what it’s like trying to maneuver around the Archives blind. How he plans to deal with it if it is permanent.

As she passes the door of Tim’s bedroom, which is ajar, she hears Martin Prime say, evidently mid-sentence, “—put you to any trouble.”

Sasha slows her steps and hovers outside the door, eavesdropping shamelessly. It’s always been one of her fatal flaws, that urge to snoop and spy and pluck secrets out of thin air. It’s part of what drew her to the Magnus Institute over any of the other research or archival jobs she could have taken, the other part being that most of the others would have required her to go too far from London. She hasn’t said anything about that to any of the others, about why she’s so keen to stay in the city. For all she loves ferreting out things about those around her, she’s always been close-mouthed about her own secrets.

“It’s no trouble at all,” Tim says. “Like I said, we were planning to spend the night in the Archives anyway, and I don’t think we’d all have fit on that cot in the back room. My floor’s a lot more comfortable.”

“Yes, but we don’t want to turn you out of your room.” Jon Prime sounds uncertain and exhausted.

“I offered. Look. Martin’s probably going to be asleep before I get back out to the living room, he looks exhausted. And I don’t think the rest of us want to leave him alone right now.” Tim sighs. “Where did we all sleep when we did this before?”

“Hmm?” Sasha isn’t sure which one of the Primes makes that noise.

“You said this happened a lot earlier than it did for you guys, right? If we want to keep an eye on each other like this now, I bet it was even worse two months down the line. Did somebody else put us all up or what?”

There’s a short pause before Martin Prime says, “No, we—we all sort of went our separate ways.”

“Wait, seriously?” Tim sounds genuinely shocked. “No, that’s—if you were hurt—”

“I wasn’t, though. I was the only one who came out of it unhurt.”

“Physically, anyway,” Jon Prime says. “We were all a bit…it was rough for a while there.”

“All the more reason we should have stayed together, then,” Tim says. “Whose idea was it not to?”

“I think we were all just…tired,” Martin Prime says slowly. “You—our Tim, I mean—he was in quarantine for a while, so he just wanted to go home, and Sasha…she wasn’t herself.”

Somebody makes a noise that might be a laugh, but Sasha isn’t getting the joke. Tim has an audible frown in his voice when he speaks again. “And you? What did you do? Go back to the place you’d last seen when you were being toyed with by six thousand worms wrapped in a trench coat and pretend that the idea of sleeping there alone didn’t bother you, then spend the night lying in bed staring up at the ceiling and jumping at every single sound?”

Martin Prime doesn’t answer for a moment. Finally, he says, so quietly Sasha has to move closer to hear properly, “You know, nobody ever actually asked me about that?”

“You know, that doesn’t really answer the question.”

“Martin?” Jon Prime’s voice is soft and laden with concern.

Martin Prime sighs heavily. “No. I went back to the place I’d last seen when I was being toyed with by six thousand worms wrapped in a trench coat and found out that I’d missed the deadline to renew my lease, then spent the night in a waiting room at St. Pancras pretending I had an early-morning train and reading through rental notices.”

Sasha presses a hand to her mouth to keep from swearing out loud. Tim does enough of that for both of them. “When was the lease up?”

“Mid-April sometime? Mrs. Mattson is…I’d been living there for years, but she’s not a sentimentalist. Once that deadline passed, she found a new tenant and arranged to have the place cleared out.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Jon Prime’s voice sounds ragged.

“It never really came up,” Martin Prime says, sounding a bit tired himself. “By the time I saw you again, I’d found a new place anyway, and I just…nobody ever asked me why I moved and it seemed easier not to say anything. There was kind of a lot going on.”

“All right, I—I suppose that’s fair, but…” Jon Prime trails off.

Sasha hears Tim take a deep breath. “Right, well, we’ll do better than that for our Martin, don’t worry. Maybe you can help us convince him he deserves it. Anyway, you two look like you’re about ready to drop, so I’ll let you get some sleep and finish grilling you tomorrow. Bathroom’s right across the hall if you need it.”

“Thank you, Tim,” Jon Prime says softly. “I mean it.”

“Hey, what are friends for?”

Sasha hurriedly steps away from the door and moves to the linen closet at the end of the hallway. A moment or two later, Tim joins her. “Need a hand?”

“I just thought I’d get the spare blankets and pillows,” Sasha says. “You know, so it feels a little more like we’re really sleeping. How were you planning to handle that in the Archives, by the way?”

Tim has the grace to look sheepish. “Okay, so it was an impulse. Sue me. We’d have probably ended up in a pile on the floor or something.”

“I suppose there are worse ways to sleep than in a cuddle pile with my two best friends.” Sasha nudges Tim, who laughs. “Like…alone, on a cot in the Archives.”

“I still can’t believe we let him do that for so long. We are horrible friends.” Tim glances over his shoulder, his expression suddenly pinched. Sasha wonders if she should admit that she heard his whole conversation with the Primes, but decides, on the balance, nah. “I mean, Jon I understand, he was still pretending he hated us.”

Sasha snorts and pulls out an armful of soft things. “Not very well.”

It at least brings a smile back to Tim’s face. “Well, I mean, you and I already knew it was an act. It’s just Martin who probably didn’t know.”

“Martin would have quit if he really thought Jon didn’t like him,” Sasha says, although she’s not altogether sure that’s true. Between the fact that he falsified most of his credentials to get the job at the Institute to begin with and the fact that he’s the sole support for a chronically ill mother, he probably would have put up with a lot worse than a boss that hated him. “Or at least asked to be transferred back to the library.”

“What, and leave us to the mercies of the Archives?” Tim grins. “C’mon, grab the spare pillows and let’s go make everybody comfortable.”

True to Tim’s prediction, Martin has fallen asleep by the time they get back into the living room, although in a way that doesn’t make it seem like he’s under very deep, or at least that he’s not comfortable enough to stay asleep easily. Jon is kneeling on the floor in front of him, carefully working his shoes off his feet. He looks up when they come in, obviously flustered and embarrassed. “I didn’t notice he’d dropped off until a minute ago,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sasha isn’t surprised, considering he was avoiding making eye contact, but she doesn’t say that out loud. “I mean, it’s been a long day, and he’s probably in a lot of pain.”

Tim dumps his load on the coffee table. “Here, you get the lever and I’ll ease the back down so he doesn’t fall too hard. Don’t want to wake him, but sitting upright all night isn’t going to help him.”

Sasha wonders, as she sets down her own burden, how much of this is Tim trying to atone for what their counterparts did to Martin Prime and how much of it is him genuinely worrying about their Martin, but she’s not going to ask because that would mean revealing she was eavesdropping. Instead, she selects a pillow and blanket and starts setting them up on the love seat while she watches Tim and Jon try to ease the footrest out and the back to a reclining position without jostling Martin awake. He must be really tired, though, because although his face screws up briefly and he makes a soft sound, he doesn’t otherwise react. Once he’s lying down, Jon leans over and carefully slides Martin’s glasses off of his face, then folds them and sets them on the end table between the recliner and the sofa.

He turns around, presumably to get a blanket, and starts when he sees Sasha making up a bed. “Here, you don’t have to—you’re taller than I am, you should—”

“Only by a bit,” Sasha interrupts. “Two or three inches isn’t going to make that much of a difference, and I sleep curled up anyway.” She also sleeps like the dead, and judging by the way Tim and Jon are fussing over Martin without making it obvious, she guesses they’re more concerned about Martin than she is. Which isn’t to say that she isn’t worried about him, only that she’s a bit more detached from the situation, for whatever reason. If anything happens to Martin in the middle of the night, she won’t wake up and hear it, and they’re more likely to jump up to do something about it anyway, so there’s no reason for her to stay near him. She doesn’t say that out loud, though.

“I…” Jon hesitates, then glances back at Martin, and his face softens in a way Sasha pretends not to notice so she won’t be tempted to pick at it. “All right. T-Tim, are you sure—”

“Yep. The floor and I are good friends. I’ve done a lot of camping and backpacking and the like, so I’m used to it.” Tim grins. “Pick a pillow and a blanket.”

Jon looks over the offerings on the table, then selects a faded patchwork quilt and unfolds it carefully. Somehow, Sasha isn’t surprised when he drapes it over Martin and tucks him in gently, almost tenderly, before turning back and taking another blanket along with a pillow. The blanket, to Sasha’s eye, looks as if it’s made of fiberglass and horsehair, but Jon runs his fingers over the pattern almost reverently. “Where did you find this?”

“California, I think,” Tim answers. “Maybe Mexico. My grandparents left me a bit of a legacy when they died, with the stipulation that I use it for a gap year in ‘the mountains’. It was that vague. I think my folks expected me to pick the Alps or the Pyrenees, maybe the Sierra Morena if I felt like being different. Something close to home, anyway. But I thought, hey, when am I ever going to get a chance like this again? Spent my whole last year of school planning and budgeting, and two days after graduation I was off to America. The start of the Pacific Crest Trail is right on the border with Mexico, and there was a market there, people selling handcrafts and the like. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to have an extra blanket. I was right, too.”

“Does it mean something to you, Jon?” Sasha asks, curious. “The pattern, I mean?” She’s seen people trace the lines of relics and books like that when touching something that looks familiar but isn’t, and there’s an oddly thoughtful look on Jon’s face.

“Sort of?” Jon looks up. He truly does look tired, which is odd, considering he wasn’t the one running from worms. “I—my mother’s sister married an American. Well, he was Mexican-American. My cousin had a blanket like this on his guest bed, he said his grandmother made it for him.”

Tim begins making up a bed on the floor with the remaining blankets. He does so with a practiced ease that tells Sasha he truly has done this plenty of times before. “You’ve been to America, then? Or does your cousin live over here?”

“No, he’s in New Mexico. Or he was the last time we spoke. It’s been a few years.” Jon bends over and begins untying his shoes. “I didn’t—exactly take a gap year, but I did take some time off and go to visit him. He and his parents, or at least my aunt, used to come over and visit for a week or two every summer, so I thought I’d repay him by returning the visit. Ended up staying through to the end of the year.”

“Didn’t make it to New Mexico when I was there.” Tim turns to Sasha. “How ‘bout you, Sash? Ever been to America?”

Sasha shakes her head. “Closest I’ve come was getting to go onto one of their military bases in Ansbach. My family was on holiday in Germany and a boy asked me if I’d be his date to a holiday party. Evidently I was the only girl his age who spoke English he ran into who wasn’t already going with someone else.”

“We’ll all have to go sometime,” Tim says. “Close the Archives down for a couple weeks, the four of us can fly over and do the tourist thing.”

“I doubt Elias would go for that,” Jon says dryly, straightening up. “I barely was able to convince him to let us have a day or two off while the cleaning crews come in and get rid of the worm carcasses. Unless we manage to somehow convince him we’re doing research and that I need all of you with me, he’d likely insist at least one of us stay back.”

“Then we’ll sneak off,” Tim declares. “Leave the Institute on a Friday night, promise to see him Monday. Slip away under the cover of darkness, take a taxi to the airport, buy tickets under assumed names and catch a midnight flight. By the time he realizes we’re not coming in on Monday, we’ll be well dug in somewhere in America. He’ll never think to look for us there.”

“And then we’ll get fired the minute we set foot back in the Institute,” Sasha says.

“Nah, not us. Who’d take our place? Especially now? He’d have to hire from the outside and lie about the conditions. Worst we’ll have to endure is a lecture. ‘I am sorely disappointed in all of you, leaving the Archives in such a state and going on holiday. We won’t discuss this further, but I will have to refuse any further time off requests you make for the remainder of the year.’”

Sasha presses a hand to her mouth to stifle her giggles. “Shh, you’ll wake Martin.”

“What do you say, Boss?” Tim asks, undeterred. “Team Archives in America? Debunking ghosts and solving mysteries? Rent a technicolor cargo van and adopt a Great Dane?”

The corners of Jon’s mouth twitch upwards in a smile. “Actually, the idea of going on a trip with the three of you is, strangely enough, not an altogether unwelcome one. God knows I haven’t taken a holiday in ages.”

“Your enthusiasm is boundless,” Tim says dryly. He kicks off his shoes and sits down on the blanket nest he’s built. “Hey, maybe the Primes will cover for us. They can pretend to be you and Martin and just Sasha and I can take the time off.”

“I think it’s a bit obvious they’re not us. Especially now.” Jon looks over at Martin. “I—I am sorry. I should have been there. I should have…it should have been me. Not any of you.”

Tim sighs, the smirk melting off his face. “Well, according to your counterparts, Martin was the only one who didn’t get…wormed the first time, so maybe you not being there means fewer people got hurt.”

“While I’m not ungrateful that you and Sasha weren’t hurt, Tim, it doesn’t make me feel any better for not…being there to help. Not even knowing.”

“Yeah, well…it was spur of the moment, sort of. And I deliberately didn’t tell you. Figured you wouldn’t…I don’t know, want to stay? Encourage us to stay? I mean, like you told Martin, it is still technically where we work, even if he was living there for a while.”

Jon looks pained. “I…in truth, I probably wouldn’t have wanted you all to stay, but not…Elias thought I was overreacting anyway, having Martin living there. I’d have probably come up with some ridiculous reason why you shouldn’t stay, but really it would have boiled down to the fear that if Elias found out we were all staying, he might order Martin out, and I—I thought that would put him in danger.”

“Well, if you believe what Martin Prime apparently told him, he wasn’t really what she was after,” Sasha points out. The last couple of words are swallowed by a yawn.

“I don’t know what I believe, Sasha.” Jon sighs heavily and takes off his glasses. “Let’s…table this discussion for the morning, shall we?”

“Sounds good. Tomorrow, then.” Tim yawns and burrows into his blankets.

Sasha curls up on the love seat. She figures she’ll lie there until she’s sure the others are asleep, then get up and do some investigating on her laptop, but to her mild surprise, she drifts off almost as soon as her eyes close.

[kinetic-keith]

Thicker Than Water

and if love be madness, may I never find sanity again

projection what projection

Fandom: Promare

Ship: GueiMei

Contents: Angst and hurt/comfort, intimacy, first kiss

Length: 1.7k

**

Gueira feels the tension before he hears the voices. The door swings open and he’s hit with the heavy weight of anguish, of words unspoken and feelings pushed aside. He doesn’t bother toeing off his shoes or hanging his coat up before he pokes his head into the kitchen, and oh--

Oh.

Meis holds his cell phone in both trembling hands, eyes shut as the woman on the other end tells him not to come sniffing around again. “Ma, I--”

“We don’t need someone of your...influence,” his mother says, icy as the winter wind that whips through the streets, “around our daughter.”

“You realize I’m not Burnish an--”

“Goodbye, Meis.” There’s a click, a thud as Meis’s phone hits the table, and the screech of the chair against the floor as he gets up to silently stalk past Gueira and toward the door. When their shoulders brush there’s a thousand things Gueira wants to say, could say, but what he settles on is much simpler than any of them.

“Take a jacket,” he says quietly, and even those words seem too loud. “It’s freezing outside.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not.”

Meis looks at him down the bridge of his nose, gearing up to argue, before shockingly--scarily--slumping forward. He splays one hand against the wall, the other pulling down his coat from the rack they’d finally installed after a year of simply throwing things over the edge of the couch. The sound of the zipper shatters the silence, its metallic whine nearly painful before the decisive click of the door shutting puts it to rest.

It hurts, seeing Meis in pain. The feeling wraps around Gueira’s heart and squeezes until he has to sit down, sliding his back down the wall until his ass hits the melted snow on the floor and the world doesn’t spin as badly anymore. It’s somehow worse and better now that the Promare are--have been--gone. Their people no longer starve in the desert, but there’s a different hunger that gnaws at the ex-Burnish now.

Their hearts cry out for all they’ve lost, everything they left behind upon realizing that the flames called to them. They ache for fathers and brothers, mothers, sisters, children abandoned for their own safety, and though Gueira knew it was only a matter of time before Meis found his own family, his chest aches because it means maybe he hasn’t been family enough.

His head thuds back against the wall.

The clock in the living room ticks in time with his pulse.

The wind outside whistles, and he lets out a sigh to add to the heaviness in the air before shrugging off his jacket and kicking his boots into the closet. He shuts his eyes and swears it’s only a few seconds he’s drifting, but the door and Meis’s heavy footsteps startle him from wherever he’s gone to.

“What’re you doing down there?”

Gueira shrugs, snorts softly. “Existing.”

There’s several beats of silence where Meis seems to wrestle with something, his jaw working before finally, he simply makes a small grunt of acknowledgement and takes off his shoes. When he moves forward, Gueira reaches up to tangle their fingers. 

“Sit with me,” he says.

“There’s salt ‘n shit on the floor. You get up and sit on the couch,” Meis says, but he doesn’t pull away. He looks down at Gueira with something unintelligible in his eyes instead, and allows Gueira to pull his hand forward.

“Can I fix these?” he asks, because Meis doesn’t like his bad habits pointed out, and it’s easier to fix the chipped paint on his nails than ask why the skin around them is bitten to the point of bleeding. 

“Yeah,” Meis says, because he knows Gueira won’t stop until he gets his way.

Gueira doesn’t mention the phone call as Meis hauls him to his feet, or as they set to heating up the leftover pizza from last night. He doesn’t mention it when they move to the couch and light the array of candles on the coffee table, the overhead light off because that’s still comfortable for them. He’s silent as he retrieves the comforter from his bed and hands it to Meis to wrap himself in, though he wants to tell him how sorry he is.

He wants to say so much, but the weight of don’t you know I love you looks like it would crush Meis today.

In the end, it’s Meis who brings it up. He’s moved down to sit on the floor for better access, and the way the candles light up the grief in his eyes makes Gueira want to smooth every bit of it away.

“How much did you hear?” he asks softly.

Gueira switches fingers, paints the nail black as he says, “Enough.”

“I’m sorry,” Meis says, and then, “I didn’t think you’d be home until later.”

“Guess it’s your lucky day.”

“Right.” Meis huffs, not quite a laugh, and lets his forehead fall to rest on his shoulder. He shivers at Gueira’s fingers sliding against his palm, down his wrist as Gueira gently positions his hand over the blanket to dry.

“Give me the other one.”

Meis obeys without hesitation. “I didn’t even want to see my mom,” he says, and Gueira’s sure he’ll deny his voice cracks on the word. “But I figured Lena’s sixteen now, and maybe I could--we could...” He shakes his head. “It was stupid. Stupid thought, stupid--”

“It’s not your fault your mom’s a raging cunt,” Gueira says, a bit harsher than he intends. He takes a deep breath, lets it out, continues. “You miss your sister. I think it’s only natural you’d want to see her again.”

“Someone of my influence,” Meis says poisonously.

Gueira sets the brush back in the bottle and reaches to cup Meis’s face in his palm, feels his heart soar when Meis pushes into it with a soft whine. “That bitch would be lucky if she got to know who you are. Your influence--” He tips Meis’s chin up with his thumb and twitches his lips up. “Kept the settlement alive. Your influence...” Leaning forward, he rests his temple against Meis’s. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for your influence. Does that count for something?”

“Yeah,” Meis whispers.

Gueira strokes his thumb across the curve of Meis’s cheek before gently, tenderly, pressing his lips to the spot his forehead just was. Meis’s breath hitches at the contact and it’s more forward than Gueira’s ever been, but Meis doesn’t say no.

His index, middle, and ring fingers fall prey to the paint before either speaks, and it’s Gueira again. 

“There are others out here who love you like you should be loved,” he says, tucking his lip between his teeth as he extends Meis’s pinky. “People who don’t give a shit what you’ve done.”

“You tryin’ to say something?”

Gueira shrugs.

“Look at me,” Meis says, and when Gueira does, there are entire galaxies shimmering in his eyes. “Thank you,” he breathes, because he’s not an idiot, and Gueira’s anything but subtle tonight. He drops his gaze to his lap, where his hands clench and unclench rhythmically.

“You’re going to ruin the paint right away,” Gueira complains.

“You can fix it for me again.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Because you’ll always be there, right?” 

Gueira sets his jaw and nods once, eyes fixed on Meis’s tattoo where the blanket’s slipping off. They’d made a night of it, years ago when they’d first met. Drunk on invincibility and starlight, that promise has been with them ever since. 

“Always,” he says.

“We should get ‘em redone sometime,” Meis says. “Professionally.”

“What, my stick and poke skills weren’t good enough?” Gueira teases.

Meis manages a laugh this time, a soft, rumbling chuckle as he leans in to settle his face in the crook of Gueira’s neck. “Your skills are fine,” he murmurs, “but I don’t want them to fade too bad.”

Gueira sits stock still, stunned into inactivity at the brush of Meis’s lashes against his throat. They haven’t quite done this yet. There’s been plenty of moments, yes--lingering glances across the desert sand, sleeping propped up against each other in abandoned buildings, quiet banter over making dinner together in this new life--but never this. 

Even so, nuzzling into Meis’s cheek to slot their lips together is as easy as breathing. 

Meis’s lips are pliant under his, chapped and eager and willing as Meis climbs into his lap. His arms wrap around Gueira’s shoulders like a vice as he whispers his name, and Gueira can do nothing but follow as Meis leads him down avenues he’s been too much of a coward to explore. 

“Fuck,” Gueira whispers when they part. He goes back for one lingering kiss, catching Meis’s bottom lip between his teeth and teasing it until Meis makes a noise low in the back of his throat. “Fuck, I love you.”

“I know,” Meis says, and then he says, “I can’t remember a time when I didn’t love you,” and Gueira can’t help the way he hugs so tight that Meis lets out a small squeak of discomfort.

“Sorry,” Gueira mumbles. 

“‘s all right, darlin’,” Meis whispers against the underside of Gueira’s jaw. “Just try not to kill me too early, you know?”

“I wouldn’t kill you ever,” Gueira says, only a little petulantly. 

“I trust you.”

Gueira splays his hands over Meis’s spine, feels along the knobs that are no longer as prominent as he buries his face into the curve of Meis’s shoulder. “You deserve people who adore you for all that you are,” he says, “and if we can find a way to get to Lena, I’m sure she’ll think just as highly of you as I do.”

“You think so?” Meis asks, and Gueira hates the way that of all the things they’ve conquered, this makes his voice quiver with uncertainty.

“I know so,” he says. “Trust me with that, too?”

“Yeah,” Meis says. “Yeah, I think I do.”