#he has a fun personality n is a good clear lecturer and also our first assignment was a scavenger hunt through the syllabus

[rubberbandballqueen]

me yesterday: man, kind of a shame that these instructions online about how to find the distance btwn ordered triplets don't make much sense to me. i would love to do math on that triangular soil texture chart

day 1 of calculus iii: okay so today we are going to find the distance btwn these two ordered triplets

me:

me: NO FUCKING WAY

[hansolmates]

one more time (m)

pairing; (former) popular!jk x (former) normie!reader summary; it’s been two years since you’ve seen your former tryst jeon jungkook. you didn’t expect him to be applying for the internship you’re currently running, along with the rate your heart is running at the sight of him in a black suit. genre/warnings; self-deprecating language, your typical (future) co-workers!au, jungkook is a piner and so is oc, a lil bit of sneaking around, adulting, a mutual understanding of feelings (finally!!) smut in the form of—soft n’ dirty baybee, unprotected, cockwarming, overstimulation, minor praise and possession kink, cumplay, &you know that they gon have heart eyes the entire time w.c; 7.3k a/n; darn why am i so... emotional over this??? it started out as a meaningless drabble series but with all my lovely readers and moots it’s grown into such a fun, introspective series. thank u for loving this and joining me on this journey. for those of u who are new to this series feel free to read popular-ish first or as a standalone! [popular-ish masterlist]

if you’ve enjoyed this (whether as a standalone or as a series) please consider giving it a like and a share✨✨✨✨✨

“A mess, I’m a mess,” you sing-song to yourself, organizing the manuals on the clear glass by subject and size. The applications of all your new interns are alphabetized, not a form out of place. Everything’s perfect. “Alright Jessica, all twenty of the interns are accounted for.” 

“Actually, there’s twenty-three,” Jessica quips, and you let your shoulders slump. Being part of the recruiting team of your company has been simultaneously exciting and stressful. Stressful because of the constant travel, but otherwise exciting because you loved your internship at your current company. You remember how nervous you were two years ago, and how much support and help you got from your recruiters. Applying to this team was a natural turn of events. 

“A-are you sure, Jess?” you look through all the applications, count the amount of nametags, triple check the chairs. You’re sweating through your blazer, wondering where you went wrong. 

The head of your recruiting team glues one hand to her hip, while the other hand is holding her iPad, scrolling with her thumb. You swallow, intimidated by Jessica’s golden wavy locks and her black-trimmed white Chanel pantsuit. 

“Yep, but don’t be too hard on yourself. I just added three more recruits last night. I’ll get the chairs and the apps are being printed. No worries,” Jessica assures, gesturing for you to hurry up and get outside, “Call the babies in!” your team leader waves her finger around like a magic wand, commanding you to the front lines. 

Krystal puts a hand on her shoulder, as always looking impeccable. She has virtually nothing to worry about. She’s a woman who has connections, courtesy of her team leader. “Let’s go, newbie,” she teases, pulling you through the door. 

The recruits in the lobby are wide-eyed and vibrant, and you feel a little nostalgic as you watch them line up in front of you and Krystal as you sign them in. You would dwell on the feeling more if it wasn’t for your exhaustion, so you decide you’ll get a chance to take a road down memory lane when you get to the hotel. 

“Name?” 

“Xu Minghao.” 

“Congrats Minghao, here’s your nametag and I’ll see you inside,” with a firm handshake, one recruiter is free to go. 

“Name?” 

“Chou Tzuyu.” 

“Congrats Tzuyu, here’s your name tag and I’ll see you inside,” she doesn’t go in straight away, and moves to the side of the door. “Actually,” you pause mid-handshake with another recruit, staring at the woman in curiosity, “my boyfriend just got a call last night that he was accepted in this year’s batch. Do you have his name?” 

“Yes, three more recruits were added,” you chirp, as if you totally did not hear that bit of information five minutes ago, “What’s his name—Jungkook?” 

The both of you blink at each other. One hand on Tzuyu’s shoulder, eyes wide and mirroring yours. Your heart falls straight to your stomach, wanting to be eaten by acids and bacteria so you can stop any possibility of feeling any lingering affection for the boy you fooled around with in undergrad. Everything about him screams professional. He’s clean cut, a pinstripe black suit you never thought he’d own, and his hair is neatly trimmed and pulled behind his ears. His shoulders look tall and broad under the slight padding, his biceps comfortably stretching against the dark fabric. The golden complexion remains the same however, from the honest brown eyes to the coral pink lips that would always smile at you. 

“Oh, so you do have his name!” Tzuyu clasps her hands together, delighted. He has a girlfriend, too. It’s then you realize you’ll be stuck with not just him, but her for the week. “You guys are so efficient. C’mon Kookie, let’s find some seats!” 

“I still gotta get my nametag,” he replies goodnaturedly, gesturing to you, “save us some seats in the front?” 

Tzuyu thinks nothing of it, squeezing his bicep before skipping off to the front row. Your eyes linger on her form, and it’s only then you realize how tall and intimidatingly pretty she looks in that plaid teddy bear brown skirt suit. You did not look that good when you were a budding undergrad. 

By this time, Krystal has taken all your other recruits from your line, regarding you with a raised brow. She’s fast with her attendance, so you know you don’t have much time. 

“I applied last minute,” Jungkook says, scratching his head, “was running out of options before graduation. I didn’t know you’d be one of my recruiters, though. Lucky me.” 

Jungkook and you never ended up keeping in contact, at least as of recent. A check-in message a few months in, a happy birthday or holiday greeting late at night. But two years later and those messages are automatic, with no feeling or personality. You never thought you’d see him again, no less in the city. 

“You just graduated with your masters, congrats,” you smile at Jungkook, although you’re sure the feigned emotion fails to reach your eyes, “IT Management, right?” 

“You remembered,” Jungkook brightens, reaching over to squeeze your shoulder, “you look good.” 

“Oh please—”  you laugh to yourself, shaking your head, “I just got off a flight and I ran over in a two-day old suit, I don’t even have makeup on,” you didn’t feel this way in the morning, you just rushed to do the bare minimum to be enough and ran over to the convention hall. But now in the presence of Jungkook who looks so handsome and clean-cut, you can’t help but feel a little slighted at the sudden reunion. 

“You’re always beautiful,” Jungkook exhales, and you clutch your clipboard closer to your chest. 

You cough, an excuse for him to stop touching your shoulder, “You should go inside, it’s gonna start soon. We can catch up later.”

“Wait—” you make a scrunched up face that Jungkook can’t catch, but right in Krystal’s view. You can tell she’s laughing at you internally with her devious grin. “I just wanted to say, Tzuyu isn’t my girlfriend. We’re just…” 

“Fooling around?” you didn’t mean for it to sound so sharp, but you wanted this conversation over. You have a job to do and Jungkook is your emotional barrier. 

You and Jungkook used to fool around. 

Jungkook winces, looking younger in his monkey suit. “I mean if you give me a chance to explain later—”  

“Nametag, let’s go newbie.” Krystal slaps on the sticker herself, a little too hard if she asked. She doesn’t even bother to write his full name, just a bright green Jeon JK, IT Management tacked on his breast pocket, clashing with the gold pocket square. 

“Sorry,” Jungkook tucks his tail in for now, bowing at you and Krystal as he scurries inside. 

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. Krystal doesn’t bother to comfort you or ask what’s up—not that you want her to, even though you do want a breather before you have to go up on that stage and explain the itinerary for a week. The only thing you can do is smooth out your skirt, brush away the flyaways on your hairstyle and plaster a company-paid smile on your face.

The autopilot switch is on throughout the rest of the morning. Not just because Jungkook’s around, but the new position has got you on livewire. You’re glad that you’re not wearing base makeup because you are absolutely melting with all the high beam lights all up in your face as you talk through the week’s activities. 

You could swear Jungkook clapped a little harder than most once you stopped talking, but maybe it’s because you’re not used to seeing Jungkook in the very front of a lecture. In fact, he was a very hard middle person, preferring not to show off his intelligence and let other people lead the discussion. Then again, it’s been two years, you don’t know how much he’s changed. 

Jessica caps off the seminar with a great kick-off, the happy hour. The recruitment team picks a four star restaurant under their hotel so the recruits can enjoy themselves before going off to the training facility for a week. 

And by training facility, you also mean yet another four-star hotel. You knew you made the right decision by joining this company because the benefits are impeccable, and value personal enjoyment just as much as they value work ethic. In the morning you and the recruits will be driving uptown to a private resort where there would be classes in the morning, and recoup in the evening. You’re very much looking forward to the infinity pool on the roof. 

The recruits are ushered out as soon as you’re done, and that’s when you step out of the shadows to clean up the chairs and the brochures left behind. Thankfully Jungkook is probably following the norm and going back to the hotel to freshen up before dinner. Once the room is completely empty, you rip off your blazer and let yourself relax. 

It’s going to be a long week. 

Jeon: where u @?

You: hotel room

Jeon: why? Thought we were all gonna have dinner together

You: nahhh, this night is for the recruits! You’ll be tired of our faces by the end of the week, enjoy it while you can 😉  have a good night

You sigh in contentment, relaxing further into the silk sheets. You just finished your skincare routine, letting some mindless drama play as the essences and serums sink into your skin. All you want is one Jungkook-free night. Tomorrow you’ll be stuck training him and Tzuyu for the week and you want to take tonight to emotionally prepare yourself. 

Your phone rings once more. 

Big Baddie Jessica Jung: krystal and i ordered takeout in the restaurant downstairs. Can u bring it to our  room? Plsssssss 

Little Baddie Krystal Jung: it’ll be faster if you do it, we even got u a lil somethin🍰🍰🍰

Taking in your outfit, you grimace. You’re dressed for bed, a large nightie with your hair pulled back and a little pink bunny tie headband on top. Can’t they get room service to send it up? You admire your boss but you don’t understand why she needs to display her power over and over, she already knows you’ll follow her to the ends of the earth. 

Quickly slipping into a pair of sneakers you run down the expanse of the hotel. It’s easy to spot where the recruits are, livin’ it up in the large restaurant that takes up half the space of the ground floor. Most of them are pretty drunk, hoping to sleep off the hangover on the four-hour bus ride. You have absolutely no judgement, two years ago you were in the same position. 

Thankfully you don’t have to go far into the restaurant, as the hostess immediately knows Jessica’s order. While you wait for her to go into the kitchen and get it you drum your fingers against the counter, hoping no one notices you. It’s akin to when you’re a teacher in a mall, hoping none of your students gawk at you in the middle of Victoria’s Secret. 

“Ah, well Jungkook and I aren’t official yet—but very soon.” 

Your ears perk up at the sweet voice. Tzuyu is leaning across the open bar next to the counter, sipping on a mango mojito. She’s dumped the blazer for the night, showing off her soft skin and slender arms with a sleeveless cream blouse. 

“Then where is he?” another recruiter asks, gesturing to the expanse of the lobby. 

“He’s not much of a party person,” Tzuyu shrugs, tipping back her drink. 

You scoff, plastering on a smile to the hostess as you grab your bags and walk as fast as you can out of the lobby. You’ve never felt more like an old hag until now. Sure, most of the recruits are younger than you, but seeing Tzuyu talk so freely about her relationship with Jungkook has you in a bit of a spiral. The day of graduation, you told Jungkook not to wait for you. Heck, you’re only interested in the idea of what you could’ve had with Jungkook. 

These thoughts only cloud you further as you jab the elevator buttons all the way up to the suites where you and the Jungs reside. You relax a little when you see a strawberry cheesecake sitting prettily on the top of their order, your name written on the label with a little heart. Hanging their bag on the door handle of their room, you make your way back to your suite. 

You freeze when you see a floppy-haired Jungkook roaming the hallway, looking like a clueless child hobbling around in slippers and wide eyes at any sparkly item that decorates the area. It doesn’t even look like he tried attending the happy hour tonight, dressed in an impossibly big heather grey sweatsuit that swallows his form. 

“Are you lost?” you ask tentatively, as if you’re talking to a toddler lost at the mall. 

Jungkook relaxes considerably at the sound of your voice, and he replies, “Was tryna find your room since you didn’t reply to my texts.”

“So… you decided to check all the rooms?” 

“Yep,” he pops the p with a smack of his lips, “I figured the recruiters would be far away from the party so I started at the top. Thankfully I got to Jessica’s room first. Didn’t have to knock on too many doors. Only one old man got annoyed at me.” 

“You’re crazy,” you chuckle, slipping in your keycard to let Jungkook in. 

“Fuck, this room all to yourself?” 

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to kick his slides to a corner of the wall, flopping atop your bed and clutching your baby blue koala plush in his arms. The king sized bed is enough for his legs to stretch comfortably without falling off the edge, and he eagerly pads his feet against the soft fabric. 

It warms you to think that Jungkook is comfy enough to lay on your bed and hug your stuffed animals, a semblance of friends that you’ve missed for such a long time. Last year the team you worked for was great, you loved the people and even now you consider some of them friends. This year the team is a little smaller, and since your two other co-workers are sisters, it’s a little harder to nudge yourself in the direction of friendship. 

As soon as you sit down against the headboard, Jungkook’s eyes soften. Everything feels so different and the same. The threadbare pajamas that either of you haven’t had the heart to throw away since they’re so damn comfy, yet  your bodies are a little more worn and your eyes a little more droopier than usual. 

“So,” Jungkook bites his lip, not in the sexy way, but the nervous way, “about Tzuyu—”

“Jungkook, you don’t have to explain yourself,” you slump on your corner of the bed, regarding Jungkook with guilty eyes. “I really shouldn’t be feeling the way I’m feeling. It isn’t fair and I don’t want to jeopardize your internship.”

“And… what are you feeling?” 

“Dumb things.” 

“Your feelings aren’t dumb.”

“This time they are.”

“I’ve always shared my feelings, it’s unfair that you never want to share yours,” Jungkook sits up, criss-cross applesauce, pensive. “Maybe it’s my fault for not making you feel comfortable enough to share, but I feel like the reason why we never worked out was because we never tried hard enough to have a proper conversation.” 

How could you have missed all the indicators, all the good words, all the kindness Jungkook has given you that last semester? “You’re absolutely right,” you let your insecurities, your apprehensiveness, get in the way. You think in two years you’d do better to eradicate this kind of behavior, but lately you haven’t had many friends to express your feelings to. “Tell you what, I’ll work harder to express how I feel. No exchanges, no nothings. I owe you this.” 

“You owe me nothing,” Jungkook smiles, “I just think it would be nice to y’know, talk. As friends.” 

“Right, friends.”

“So, will you hear me out about Tzuyu?” 

“Let me open my cake,” you pull out your bag with the cheesecake, which thankfully has two spoons, “it seems like we’ll be having that kind of conversation.” 

Everyone is more amicable because of food. According to Jungkook, Tzuyu has a hardcore, ten-year plan for her twenties. After a couple of dates with Jungkook, Tzuyu whips him into the plan. Mentions that she’s well-bred and has a family reputation to uphold. Says IT Management is something completely desirable in a partner, that he’s sensible and wonderful and would like to be committed full-time. 

“And she talked to her parents about me and said that I’m a good prospect for marriage. Like I’m another pillar in her plan!” Jungkook cries, taking a monstrously sized bite of your cheesecake, wallowing away.

This is akin to sleepovers you’ve always wanted to have in high school, down to the food gorging. You can’t help but be fascinated, “So are you wrapped up in an engagement? Is this a scary rendition of Crazy Rich Asians?” 

“You just can’t turn a one-eighty like that on a fifth date,” Jungkook shakes his head, reeling at the emotional whiplash, “she’s really nice. Really organized, really perfect. It really intimidates me.”

“Is she what you reaaaally want?” you can’t help but ask, rolling your eyes at the excessive use of the word, and tamp down the pain in your stomach by eating a forkful of creamy cheesecake. 

“I don’t know!” Jungkook replies exasperatedly, “Obviously I’m worried since she wants to put a ring on it. I told her she needs to back off. Right after the seminar I said she had no right telling other people we’re boyfriend and girlfriend. She didn’t say much, just frowned and walked away.” 

You roll your eyes, scraping the leftover graham cracker crust from the edge of the plastic plate. “According to her, I heard you two are planning to make it official very soon.” 

His eyes widen, “I really bring girl trouble wherever I go, don’t I?” 

“Since I’ve known you,” you half-joke, putting away the plastic cutlery on the nightstand. 

You two sit in silence for a few moments, letting the television fill the room with mindless static about some sappy Hallmark movie. Tentatively, you land a hand on Jungkook’s knee. He looks down at your tiny fingers, giving his skin an experimental squeeze of comfort. 

“I don’t want her,” he finally says. 

“Okay,” you reply, “you won’t even have to talk to her if you don’t want to. I can arrange the groups this week so you don’t have to be around—”

“Give me one week,” his eyes flash to yours, dark and sharp.

“Jungkook. You have your determined face on,” it makes you sweat.  

“Because I’m determined to win you over, once and for all,” you eyes widen, and Jungkook visibly freezes, “was that too much? I’m kind of on an emotional high today. I didn’t expect to see you today and it kind of threw me into a loop. I thought I might be running into you once I started my internship but I didn’t think you’d be my recruiter. And then you went on that stage all bad-ass talking about work and you looked so gorgeous in your suit and I was so proud knowing you made it and IrealizedhowmuchImissedyou—” 

“Jungkook, slower,” you’re feeling a little woozy as well, equally overwhelmed. “You’re just saying this because you didn’t expect to see me—” 

“You’re deflecting, again.” 

“I’m scared, okay?” you blurt, throwing your hands in the air. “You’re right, this is all so sudden. So can’t we just start being friends and see if it takes us somewhere? You don’t have to win me over, just support me like I’ll support you.” 

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook moves up the bed, so he’s leaning against the headboard as well. His long legs stretch farther than yours, and it feels oddly domestic as you talk it out and stare at the television screen. “I’m just, worried I’m running out of time.” 

“I'm not going anywhere this time.” 

“I know,” Jungkook shakes his head, ridding himself of his torrid thoughts. Conceding, he gestures to the television, pulling out the remote under your pillow, “wanna watch television, or catch up?” 

You last about an hour until you knock out. However, Jungkook keeps you entertained up until that moment, as you exchange your lives and stresses. Everything meshes together, you’re not sure if it’s the charm that comes with late night talks, but you feel like you can talk to Jungkook about anything if given the time. You melt when he strokes your hair till the last minute, wishing you a goodnight and a promise of more. 

“Okay, I’ve gone over most of the work ethics in the manual,” you smile nervously when you see your glazed over recruits, nearly falling off their chairs. Even Krystal is bored out of her mind, discreetly playing with her phone in the back under her manual. Of course you’d get stuck with teaching the boring classes. “Any last minute questions before we head off for dinner?” 

Tzuyu shoots her hand up, “Are romantic relationships allowed in the workplace?” 

Jungkook promptly chokes on his water bottle. He looks up at you, panicked. Ignoring his terror, you paint on a thin smile towards the young woman, “Like I mentioned earlier, romantic relationships between employees are not frowned upon, so long as you’re not working under or over someone in the same department.” 

“Right, just wanted to make sure,” Tzuyu is all chipper smiles as she thanks you.  

If you were still twenty-one, you’d gag at the pointed look she sends Jungkook. They’re sitting diagonal from each other, and Jungkook makes a point to pretend to be interested in your lecture until the very end. 

You’re halfway done with recruitment week, and while you’re not shocked at how fast the week has gone by, you’re fairly disappointed that Jungkook and you haven’t had time to meet up in private. So far it’s been easy enough to keep your friendship (and past sexual relationship) a secret, but something dark and eager tells you how much you want more. The recruiters are eager to leave, all twenty-three of them grouping off and talking about what they want to eat for dinner. Everyone except a certain dark-haired fellow, who’s hair is currently bouncing off it’s styled coiff, wanting to return to it’s normal non-gelled self. 

“Kookie,” you raise a brow at the interaction, Tzuyu leaning over her chair to Jungkook’s, “wanna get dinner tonight?” 

Jungkook’s taking an excruciatingly long time to pack his things, raising a brow at her, “I’ve told you already, I don’t want to be involved in whatever plans you have.” 

“Oh-kay,” Tzuyu rocks back and forth on her oxford heels, pursing her magenta pink lips, “then why don’t we at least walk back to the hotel together? I really want to talk about some things that might change your mind.”

“Nothing will change my mind,” Jungkook’s determined face has been staying strong for the week, from the way he makes sure he’s first in your class to the simple “good morning” and “good night” texts you exchange. “Besides, I have a date tonight. And I really want to talk to the recruiters about a personal work matter, so can you please leave?”  

You try not to snort at how blatant Jungkook was being. You pretend to organize your folders, throwing whatever random notes you have in your bag for later. 

“A date,” she twitches,  “with who?” 

“Someone that doesn’t treat me like a stepping stone in her career path,” Jungkook deadpans, and that’s all it takes for Tzuyu to huff and walk away from the hall. 

You think Tzuyu is like a bug, relatively harmless, but someone who gets on your nerves. 

“A date, huh?” Krystal quotes, finally looking up from her phone. Her sharp, cat-eyes linger at the door, wondering if Tzuyu is going to pop out and try to drag Jungkook by the reins. Finally, she plants her stare between you and Jungkook. “So, you two fucking?” 

“Former fucking,” Jungkook supplies helpfully, and you jump off your podium to elbow him in the ribs, “ow—what?” 

“You just don’t tell Krystal we’re fucking!” 

“Former fucking,” he chastises, but the eyes he sends you are a little sultry, and you wonder if he’s thinking of fucking in the future. You reel yourself back, focusing on the third party.

But you anticipate that Krystal couldn’t care less, and you’re grateful for that. While a smaller work team means a smaller possibility of close work relationships, you do like the drama-free environment. “Like you said,” Krystal shrugs, slinging her briefcase over her shoulder, “romantic relationships in the workplace are not frowned upon.” 

You wring your hands between your bag when Krystal finally makes her getaway, and you look up at Jungkook. “So,” you smile wryly, “you have a date tonight, huh?” 

“With a pretty working woman,” he sighs dramatically, putting a hand over his chest, “that is, if she’ll have me.” 

“Consider yourself taken.”  

Jungkook and you sneak away to your suite once again. To your surprise, the suite is decorated in rose petals and a bottle of champagne sits in an ice bath on your bedside. A large pizza pie sits beautifully on your coffee table, and the television is playing lo-fi hip-hop. 

You feed Jungkook champagne-dipped strawberries as you gorge on the joy that is baked bread and cheese. 

And when he kisses you, it’s slow and sweet, like you have all the time in the world. 

It’s the last day of recruitment week, and all classes ended at noon so the interns can use all the resort’s amenities to the fullest. Many of the interns, including yourself, Jessica and Krystal, are on the rooftop celebrating a successful workweek. Staff and interns alike are buzzing around, eager to top off their weekend with some relaxation and sun. 

Jungkook is with his new team, conversing with other IT employees. You try not to stare too hard at your reignited flame, tipping back a cutely decorated glass of fruit. His arms ripple as he tips back the liquid. He’s wearing a tank top and you could swear his biceps have gotten meatier. Unfortunately you hold yourself back, after all the internship isn’t quite over and you still are a professional. 

At the end of the weekend you really have nothing to worry about, you know that. 

But Tzuyu? She irritating. 

“I just don’t understand,” Tzuyu suspects nothing of your budding relationship with Jungkook. You’re thankful for that because towards the end of the week, it was getting harder and harder to be subtle when you two send each other heart eyes from three meters away. 

Tzuyu sounds like she’s talking to herself, the way she stares into the infinity pool, despite the fact that her friends are surrounding her with rapt attention. You’re a cabana away from her, sipping languidly at your drink while Jessica and Krystal nap next to you. Even though you can’t see Tzuyu, you can practically feel her pout emanating through the fabric that separates you two. Despite the fact that she’s been offered a great intern position given her degree and experience, she’s still upset. For her, is that not the most important part of this whole week? 

“Jungkook’s really not that great if he’s going to turn me down like that,” Tzuyu seethes. You should write up her nonsense in a book and publish it, really. “Why waste time when he has the whole package right in front of him?” 

It’s then you realize why you’ve been so torn, so strung up and wound tight all these years. Just like college, all shy and hesitant to take a step forward while Jungkook was ten steps ahead, you were worried. You let other people’s thoughts stop you from making the leap, girls like Tzuyu that never meant to intimidate you, but you let their presence get up in your head and control the nonexistent hierarchy. 

But two years later, and that doesn’t matter. It never mattered. Jungkook is no longer the all-star lacrosse player, but what remains is his heart, full and willing. 

Everything Tzuyu just said was… wrong. Irrevocably, inexplicably messed up. But the idea of “wasting time” does strike a chord within you. Are you wasting time? At this point, your feelings of each other are pretty clear. What are you two waiting for, again? 

You thought Krystal was sleeping, considering her sunhat sitting atop her face, but once she hears you packing away your bag she whistles, “Go get ‘em, tiger.” 

Sending a quick text to Jungkook, you make a beeline for your destination. You don’t even bother looking for him in the crowd. 

You: meet me by the elevator at the very end of the lobby. 

Not a minute passes by when Jungkook joins you at said elevator. He has two glasses of champagne in his hands, and offers one to you, “tired of the party?” he asks.  

You clink drinks, easily tipping yours back. “It’s not our thing,” you declare with a small smile. Jungkook's eyes soften, glancing back and forth between your face and the soft pleats of your marigold sundress. His hair is pushed back, sticky from sweat and chlorine, dark bangs hanging over the shaved sides of his head. You turn your head slightly as you wait for the elevator, biting your lip as you're sorely reminded of how sexy Jungkook looked at the dive pool half an hour ago. 

The elevator dings, and it’s wide enough for you to slip in at the same time. You put your champagne glass in the corner of the elevator for now, hoping you don’t accidentally step on it. In closed quarters, you can smell the slight tang of chlorine coming from Jungkook, combined with his own brand of musk. 

Jungkook looks younger tonight, happier. Having just finished graduate school and working towards a full-time gig, another chapter in his life has started. His hair is no longer in that tight-whipped coiff he struggled all week to maintain, loosened in its natural wave due to the pool water and heat. His cheeks are a little ruddied and plump, a sign he’s been enjoying the food this week. 

The door barely closes when you get it out, pulling at his hand to face you.

“Jungkook, I like you,” you blurt, and his eyes bug out considerably. Out of reflex, his hand sharply squeezes yours. “You don’t have to say anything, because you’ve been saying everything for the majority of our relationship. I really like you, I really liked you back then too. You’re still so sweet, and loving, and smart and I’ve just been too dumb and insecure to—” 

Jungkook seals your confession away with a desperate kiss, and you turn into a pile of mush at the contact. Relief seeps into your bones, sings into your system. When he pulls away, he looks serious. He doesn’t let you get far, and clutches your face between his two hands so you can’t turn your head. Your soft cheeks fill between his fingers, warm and cradled. 

“Never call yourself that,” Jungkook exhales, regarding you with firm eyes, “you’re beautiful, and intelligent, and the person I want.” 

“I don’t wanna take it slow anymore,” you mumble against his lips, leaning in so that you can barely nip at the pink skin. “Want you now, need you now.” 

“You have me now,” Jungkook agrees, and as soon as the elevator dings open to your floor, he scoops you up into his arms. 

By all means it’s not graceful, he’s clutching you like a baby with his hands over your butt as he jiggles you all the way to your front door. Clinging onto him like a koala, you press kisses to his cheeks as he leads you to your room. You laugh and giggle like teenagers, as he fumbles between your breast to grab the card key that’s nestled between your bra. It’s warm in his hand as he swipes it through the reader, pushing you inside. 

“Is it bad that I’m kinda turned on by the fact you got my key out of my boob?” you joke, although the contact of his rough fingers against your breast is a feeling well missed. 

“Is it bad that I’m always turned on when you lecture in seminars?” Jungkook retorts, kicking the door closed with his slipper-clad foot as he walks you to the bed. “Fuck, I can hear you talk about insurance benefits all day.” 

“Didn’t know my sex appeal extended that way—oh fuck—” 

Your vibrant marigold sundresses provides easy access to Jungkook as he throws you onto the mattress, your skirt billowing over your waist as he makes quick work to expose more of your skin. 

“No more talking, more loving,” he’s crazed, doesn’t hesitate to move your bikini bottoms to the side as he rubs lovingly at your long-lost bud, “need to fuck you, now. It’s been so fucking long.” 

“Kook,” his breath is warm against your already sopping cunt, and you lift your hand to run through the strands of his messy hair. It only takes one firm tug and you’re able to pull him up by the root of his hair, cranberry juice tinted lips with a faint sheen because he couldn’t help himself to have a little taste of you. “Baby, let me touch you. Let me show you how much I want you," you coo with a pout, hands trailing over the drawstrings of his trunks.

You can see how much Jungkook wants to say yes. His eyes glow with the possibility, bright and wanting in the afternoon sunlight. The image of him shoving his cock deep into your throat, so far that you can taste it in every crevice of your mouth. Your nails gripping into his ass as you go deeper, tears pricking your eyes as cum seeps out of your pretty lips. 

But he firmly shakes his head, fingers doing the devil’s work as he eases a digit in you. A little noise of protest bubbles in your throat, but it soon dies out as soon as he finds the right spot to reduce you to mush. 

“Next time,” he exhales against the juncture between your thigh and pelvis, picking up the pace and adding another finger, “if you touch me, I’ll cum right then n’there. This is enough for me, you’re enough.” 

So you let him have what he wants. You’ll make it up to him in the morning, and the day after, and the day after. You shed your clothes, the sundress extra forgiving as it slides off your body, revealing a swimsuit that hasn’t even touched the pool. You feel a little self-conscious as he drinks you in after so long, but he quickly shucks off his clothes to match your state of nakedness. 

You remember how you tiptoed around your first night with Jungkook, taking great care to make sure it was fleeting, how dark the room was as you let your pleasure take over your senses. Two years later and the sun is setting, gold bleeding through your sheets and illuminating the room. There's no need to hide.

“I must say, we’ve both kept it tight,” Jungkook teases with a wink, squeezing your hips so he can change positions. 

You silently agree, your fingers slipping across the washboard of his waist. 

“Mm, and still so fuckin’ cute,” Jungkook marvels as he pulls you up on his lap. Your whole body is flushed with want, one hand squeezing your breasts while the other plays with the curls of hair that lead to your sopping wetness. You glide your core over Jungkook’s stomach, sighing as you take note of the abs that clench under your heat and his hot member that rubs between your ass. 

It’s a tight fit when you finally sink down on him, but the burn only fuels your desire as he stretches you wide. His grip is helpful as he guides you through the motions. It’s been awhile since you’ve been this physical with someone, and it’s almost comical when you both sigh in contentment at the contact. 

“I’ve missed this,” you mumble, biting into his shoulder as he thrusts up. 

“Mm, it feels different, right?” Jungkook hums, keeping a slow pace. The drag is wonderful, and you know that he’s trying to prolong the moment. He reaches for your head, presses his forehead to yours as he speaks, “you’re mine now, right? For real.” 

“I’m all yours, Jungkook,” you press kisses everywhere. No need to hide anymore. You bleed love into every kiss, to his jawline, the little freckles across his chin, his lips. “This is romantic and all, but I really want you to dick me down. Which is why you need to go a little faster, you sap.” 

Jungkook scoffs, “A pillow princess is what you are.” 

He stops moving, and you two sink further into the mattress without its springs bringing you back up. The both of you are acutely aware of how wet you both are, your combined arousals seeping between your seams and dripping onto Jungkook’s thighs. But the young man simply relaxes against the headboard, baiting you. 

“Kook,” you whine, clenching against his member. Your hot walls have a mind of their own, unable to stifle their desire. Sweat lines Jungkook’s brow as he tries his hardest not to move, just simply be. 

“Tell me how much you want me, princess,” the pet name has you clenching harder, and you pout. 

“Baby,” you whine, leaning forward to whisper in his ear. There’s no one in the room, and you’re sure no one is on this floor because everyone’s on the rooftop, but the words you’re about to say are for Jungkook and Jungkook only, “please, I want you to pound me into this mattress until I can’t walk anymore. I want to cry out your name so everyone can hear I’m yours. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you nip at his lobe, and let your thumb nick at the simple silver rings that adorn his ear. You hear a click of his teeth, indicating the clench of his jaw as his muscles flex around your body, "I want you to fill me with your cum until I’m eating it, and—and—oh Kook!” 

Your words aren’t enough to distract you from his large dick sitting prettily between your folds, and you’re suddenly cumming, all by the mere thought of what’s to happen. You’re shuddering in his arms, and Jungkook soothes you by running his fingers over the spine of your back, distracting you from the utter mess you’re making on the sheets. 

“Such a good girl,” Jungkook coddles you, stroking your hair, “can my good girl take it?” 

“Y-yes, Kook,” you nod eagerly, fighting the overstimulation as he nudges you off his lap. You’re pliable, as Jungkook sets up the pillows for you to rest comfortably as you get on your elbows and knees, “your good girl.” 

You shudder as your bare pussy starts to feel cold, immediately missing the warmth Jungkook can provide. You can practically feel his hot gaze burning in your back, his large palm squeezing your ass as he marvels at how ready and eager you are for him. 

“It’s so easy to slip inside,” Jungkook rubs your nectar across the head of his cock, swirling around your engorged skin as he slips right inside. You both moan at the stretch, “Finally, my adorable baby, you like this? You like getting pounded like the dirty girl you really are?” 

“Mm, yes!” you squeal, clutching onto the feather down pillows for dear life as Jungkook displays his strength, one hand gripping your hips as the other weaves itself into your hair. It’s a delicious mix of pleasure and pain, and the lewd sounds of each other’s juices and his balls against your ass echoing in the room. 

“Y-yeah,” despite his power, his thrusts are sloppy, and you know he’s almost at the edge, “and I like you, so so much. I want to make you cum everyday, make you happy and—mph—” he gives up on talking, focusing entirely on his destination. 

“Cum, baby,” you urge, melting when his one hand comes to thread with your own, “fill me up with you.” 

He flips you on your back, and you finally see how desperate Jungkook is to cum. His eyes are glassy, filled with emotion as he strokes himself to completion. Your hand reaches up to cup his damp face, and that’s when you feel him loosen. Hot, pearly strings cling to your pussy, decorating your skin in his essence. Your fingers immediately reach down to swirl the cum between your folds, and Jungkook groans at the picture, immediately throwing your hands to the side to kiss you senseless. 

There’s so much pouring between the two of you, affection, the feeling of being cherished, so much that you can feel the whole world reducing to the two of you. 

“All mine,” he whispers to himself, as if he still can’t believe it. And then, he puts up a poker face as he leans into you, resting his head gently on your breasts, “I knew I only needed a week.”

You narrow your eyes, flicking lightly at his forehead. You’re sticky, sweaty, and covered in cum and while you’re exhausted, the built in jacuzzi in your washroom looks very enticing right now. “Jungkook, this happened naturally. I said we would try as friends first and we did. We just so happened to escalate pretty fast.” 

“I don’t think it was that fast,” Jungkook nuzzles his face into your skin, “it’s been two years since college. Being popular did do a number on our relationship, but we caught up." 

“You were popular-ish,” you roll your eyes, teasing him. His face falls, and you can’t help yourself. Your hands reach over to cup his cheeks, and you happily squish the supple, pouty flesh. He’s adorable. “Kim Taehyung though? Park Jimin? Absolute heartthrobs I couldn’t stand to be near them—ah!” 

Jungkook seems to read your mind, lifting you bridal style to drag you over to the bathroom where the marble jacuzzi sits tauntingly. The stone is ice cold as he brings you both inside, immediately turning on the nozzles to fill it with steaming hot water. You find the tiny bottle of lavender suds, spilling the soap in an arc. His legs slip over yours, cradling you so that your back is pressed against Jungkook’s chest. 

“Being popular never mattered,” Jungkook shakes his head, pressing a kiss to your jaw, “I realized the only person who I really needed to notice me was you.” 

bonus. 

You wake Jungkook up the next morning with your lips wrapped around his cock, fresh cherry balm rubbing down the thick veins until he's cumming down your throat. 

"Wow," Jungkook whistles, licking his lips at the sight of you sucking the arousal from your thumb. He huffs against the pillow, eyes darting to the open organza window, letting in the early morning light. The rooftop of a multi-star hotel, white Egyptian cotton seats, a full time job on the way and waking up in the most blissful way possible. 

"I have a proposal," you crawl on top of him like a koala, hooking your thighs between his blanket clad body. 

"I do," he replies instantly, looking straight at you with droopy puppy eyes.

"Not that kind," you slap his chest, "where are you living once orientation is over?" 

"Mm, there's a boarding house near a local translation. It's probably an hour commute? Not too bad." 

"So, I just leased a townhouse last month," you bite your lip, tucking your head between his neck to hide your embarrassment, "I was gonna rent out the spare room and put an advert in the paper but…"

"I do."

"I said it isn't a marriage proposal."

"Asking you to live with me is basically a marriage proposal."

"There will be no benefits," you sit up, wagging a finger in his face, "you'll be paying rent and half the utilities. And you will be doing all the laundry." 

"Sure," Jungkook replies loftily, squeezing your ass, "you're benefit enough." 

[boldlyvoid]

ain't it fun? | Part five

Summary: reader just needs an NA meeting before they have a meltdown, they end up with the best friend they could ever make.

Warnings: pregnancy, chronic illness, spencer's career chance - he's a high school teacher now, they have a 1-year-old, smut at the end but not graphic.

word count: 2.8k

a/n: I imagine this is in season 10, so they've been together at least 7 years-ish now, I just jumped well into the future because I wanted to! also, Cordelia's nickname is Edie and pronounced Ee-dee !!

P1 P2 P3 P4

“No.”

Spencer sighs, “are you going to like any of my suggestions?”

“When you give me a baby name that isn’t from some weird old male book character, then yes, I’ll take them into consideration,” she replies, hand on her stomach as she lays back against the pillows.

She was huge, 9 months pregnant and so, so close to the finish line. She was swollen and in pain and exhausted. Going off every single medication and recreational drugs to make a life was a commitment and a half, she was doing well but she was so ready to be done. To do a few more months of breastfeeding and then go back on her medications.

Spencer was terrific. He was googling and asking Penelope to research things, he had called doctors he knows and friends and did everything in his power to find a way to ease her pain even before they got pregnant. He’s taken the last 3 months off of work and he doesn’t know when he’ll go back. He has just been so, so incredible the whole time.

Naming a child was hard. You had to not only think about all the nicknames and what their initials spell, but you also had to think about how they’ll like it; if it’ll fit their personality and spirit. And most of all, is it going to get them bullied? There are some terrible kid names. Like Richard… how do you name a newborn Richard?

“I want something meaningful with a nice nickname and works with our names and her siblings,” she whispered towards him. “They need to all work together.”

“What are some of your favourites?” He asks, moving in closer and finding a way to cuddle in with her and her pregnancy pillow who has all but replaced him lately.

“I like earthy names, like Lennox, Juniper, Aspen, Elowen,” her voice is really soft, she bites her lip at the end as she thinks them over again. “And old things like Cordelia and Winnifred.”

“Which one sounds the best with Reid?”

“I like Cordelia Reid the most, and then we can call her Edie and I was thinking you can pick her middle name?” She’s been thinking about it for a while, but too afraid to know his opinions.

“Cordelia means core in Latin, which makes sense cause she already has my heart,” Spencer teased, he has made it very clear that their little girl is going to be spoiled, loved and a daddy's girl.

He took all his fears of being a bad dad and threw them out the window. He knew that just being there was all he wanted from his dad, and so that’s what he was going to do. He left the BAU for the time being, he was doing the odd lecture at the academy and answering calls for cases. They couldn’t just stop using his brain, there were some things too pressing to not ask the walking computer, but other than that, he was done.

He was looking into other jobs for when he finally decides to go back, he was unsure how long of a paternity leave he wanted. He was really content with just staying home all the time now, but he did miss going out and being useful during the days. The job he was most interested in, however, was a high school teacher.

A prep school in DC is looking into adding an Anthropology, Psychology and Sociology course to their curriculum, and they wanted Spencer. They thought he would be perfect for the seniors, he is fun and young and attentive, he can control a room and keep them entertained, and he’s probably the best teacher a kid could get.

It was going to make him a good dad too.

“I think Jade is a nice middle name,” he adds after thinking it over for a few minutes.

“Cordelia Jade Reid,” she says the full name for the first time and it just feels right, like they already know her.

—

She was very calm for a newborn baby.

She liked to just look around and blink, she licked her lips a lot and she was constantly breaking out of her swaddle. She was always happy to have cuddles with her dad and she pooped every night at exactly at 3 am, without fail. She didn’t cry a lot, but when she did it was still wonderful to hear.

They were so in love with her, she was absolutely perfect for them. She fit right into their sleeping schedule and their life, she ate like a pro, she slept most of the night and she was growing way too fast for their liking.

One day they’re crying over the fact they made a life in a tiny little hospital room, and the next thing they know she’s about to turn 1.

She’s sitting in bed with Y/N, she’s sitting in her lap with two handfuls of hair and a story to tell. She’s been babbling so much lately, she hears them talking all the time and she wants to join so badly. They indulge her, asking her to continue her thoughts and gasping at her gossip.

“No way, and what did you do next?!” She asked the little one sat in her lap.

Edie babbled on once more, smacking her tongue on the roof of her mouth as she pushed air past her vocal cords, humming and making the funniest sounds. She went on and on, she was so enthusiastic, like her father, as she waved her arms around to make her point.

“That is so fascinating, you are so cool, little Edie,” Y/N hyped her up, smiling at her as she leaned in close and pressed their noses together.

Cordelia laughed and it finally made Spencer giggle too, he had been watching from the doorway as his ‘wife’ and daughter talked in bed. They were best friends already, always talking and snuggling, learning or reading together. She was always happy when she was with one of them, she was needy and snuggly and very co-dependent but they didn’t mind, they preferred all the attention from her.

“Look who’s home,” Y/N whispered and Cordelia shot a glance towards the door, she smiled and screamed as she saw him.

“Hi Edie!” He waves at her with a smile, he takes his bag off and places it by the dresser followed by his blazer.

He gets into the bed and she instinctively reaches for a hug. He wraps her up and she snuggles right into his neck, with a fistful of his shirt, she just holds him there. She didn’t understand why he wasn’t home all day anymore, she missed him for lunch and at nap time but she loved the new routine of a snuggle when she woke up and he got home.

Spencer leans back against the pillows beside Y/N, turning his head to capture a kiss from her lips. They always just spend a quick second kissing when he gets home, even if it’s just a peck or a full-on passionate make-out, he always kisses her when he comes home. He smiles at the end of the kiss, pulling her into a hug too.

“I love Fridays,” he whispers, “Edie do you know what Fridays mean?”

She pulls away and sits up, she loves to listen to him. “Friday is the last day of the school week, which means I get to spend 2 whole days with my favourite people now.”

Edie smiled, almost like she understood what he meant, and then she was talking again, it was completely incomprehensible but they imagined she was telling him about her day.

“You forgot the part where we went to the park,” Y/N added.

Cordelia looked at her with wide eyes, “dada,” was the only word she said before babbling on again and they both stopped.

“Did she just?” Spencer was shocked and frozen still after asking.

Y/N sat up and looked right into Cordelia’s eyes, “who is that?” She pointed at Spencer.

“Dada!” She said it again and they were suddenly all squealing, even Cordelia was suddenly excited as she kept screaming dada over and over again.

“Can you say, mom? Or mama? Mummy?” Spencer tried his hardest to find an easy way for her to say it.

“Mumm,” she pushed her lips together to hum her M sound and Spencer was floored, he bounced her up and down a small amount as they cheered.

“Smartest girl in the world!” Spencer cheered her on before pulling her into another hug.

Y/N was crying softly, little tiny dreams that she didn’t even know she had were coming true every single day with them. She knew she wanted to be a mom when she was growing up, all those dreams died when her illness got worse and they all warned her that having kids would put her at risk of being moneyless and that working wasn’t an option to even support them. Let alone the threat of them taking them away just because of her autism or depression possibly being considered ‘too bad’ to care for them.

Spencer took all those fears and he kicked them out. Every day she got to experience the most precious gifts the world had to offer, her daughter was perfect and her husband was incredible. Together they were a perfect little family that ran on trust, love, and communication. Always talking, always hugging, always there for each other.

—

They crawl into bed much later than they expected to. Cordelia didn’t want to go to bed, she was trying her hardest to keep staying awake to spend time with them but eventually, sleep won. They finally placed her in her crib with her white noise and her complete darkness and closed her door for the next few hours of peace.

They both let out a deep sigh before rolling to face one another. “How was your day?” He asks, like always.

“Good,” she smiles, “I think having a kid and getting on her schedule was the best thing I’ve ever done actually, cause I’m sleeping on time, I’m eating when she does and I’m outside a lot more. She’s given me this purpose and it’s rewarding on my body.”

Spencer moves in so he can kiss her nose, “I love hearing that.”

“How was your class today?” She asks back, loving his little stories about all the 17 and 18-year-olds that were fascinated by him. As well as the kids who thought it was cool to try and pick on him before getting the shit verbally kicked out of them in front of the whole class.

It was interesting seeing him in a form of authority, he never really took charge at the BAU, she’s never seen him yell at his friends and he’s never really yelled at her either. He’s been incredibly calm, so to see him verbally tear someone apart by acknowledging their biggest flaws to make sense of why they feel the need to bully, it was pretty intense.

“They were a lot better today, they enjoyed the lesson and the kids that were giving me trouble skipped, I guess he really didn’t appreciate me calling him out that bad on Tuesday,” Spencer smirked, rolling his eyes like he cared.

“I still can’t believe that he thought it was okay to call you names in front of other students, where is the respect these days?”

“Well,” he’s about to do what he always does. He can never be truly mad at someone because he knows why everyone does what they do and that they can’t help it. “In his file, it says his parents are newly divorced, we get a list of all the kids information on the attendance like allergies and things, but also small info like life changes in case they act out.”

“Doesn’t mean he can call you the f slur,” she whispers, “all because you wore a purple shirt?”

“If I met his father I’d probably get an answer for that,” he adds, “if he’s afraid to show his emotions around his son, it’s probably why his son thinks colours are gay.”

It makes her laugh, “you look hot in purple too so I don’t see the problem?”

“Do I?” He teases, getting in even closer and pressing their bodies together.

She rolls her eyes before wrapping her arms around him and leaning forward for a quick kiss, “I think you look sexy all the time.”

He kisses her as a thank you, “I think the same about you.”

“Even when I haven’t showered in 2 days because she cries if she can’t see me and she cries if she gets wet?” Y/N laughed, annoyed but in love with their little monster at the same time.

“Always,” he reminds her. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she kisses him again after.

There are probably a million more things to share from the day, but they spend their time kissing instead. It’s been too long since they’ve just rolled around in the sheets making out like they did in the beginning. Before they ever had sex, before they had kids and a house and a love as strong as they do now.

A part of them missed the early days when everything was new and exciting, but she also loved the fact that they knew each other so well that they didn’t have to communicate anymore. They ran like 1 unit, always completing the other person's thoughts, needs and wants. They were so unbelievably happy.

She wants him badly and he wants her just as much, and he’s about to take her when she pulls back. “Nope, as much as I love her I can’t get pregnant again for at least another year.”

It makes him laugh as he pulls away and rolls over to look through his nightstand for a condom, “it wouldn’t be that bad?”

“You carry it then, seahorse it up,” she teased. “I like being back on my medicine, I need some time to be okay before I go through all that again.”

Once he’s all situated in the latex and back between her legs, he hovers over her, so close that their lips are touching ever so slightly. “I am fine if it’s just the three of us forever.”

“I’m not,” she smiles, “there will be 4 of us one day, just not today.”

With that, she’s pulling him into another kiss as he pushing inside. It’s a feeling she’s accustomed to but will never be used to, it’s a stretch that shouldn’t be as intoxicating as it is. She holds him closer as she plays with his tongue in her mouth.

He was so good at everything he did, especially the sex. He knew every single part of her body now and exactly how to push all her buttons the right way. She could live in the moment of his pumping in and out of her while his thumb circled her clit and his other hand groaned her breasts. Eventually, he kissed down her throat and she was a mess of breathy moans and low gasps.

Writing in the sheets, her legs wrap around him as she tried to pull him in even closer. It was impossible to get closer but he was still too far away, she wanted to absorb him and live in him forever. He was her safe place and she never wanted to be anywhere else.

As her orgasm bubbled, so did his. The both of them gasping and panting, she whined as she breached the edge and gripped his back, “Spence!”

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he whispered before fucking into her harder and faster, pushing her through it as he reached his own.

His movements on her clit never stopped and suddenly one felt like two and she wasn’t sure when the rush was going to stop and she didn’t care when it did. It was powerful, soothing and euphoric. A high she could live in for a while and return to it without problem as long as she had him.

He came with a small moan, trying to keep quiet as he muffled it into her neck, stilling his hips on his last thrust and dropping onto her more. Her hands were all over his back as she pressed kisses to his forehead, coming down but not wanting the love to stop there.

The love was never going to stop there for them. Their love was never-ending, and somehow as she held him there in her arms and felt his breath on his neck, she turned to see the baby monitor with their peaceful child sound asleep down the hall, she loved him even more now somehow.

Loving Spencer Reid was like falling down a bottomless pit. She never knew when she was going to reach the end, but she was content with falling.

smut taglist: @g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria@reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor @blanchardsbk

[thebadboyfanclub]

You Little Sneaky Fox (Cedric x Reader)

This has been in my brain and I had to write it in order to stop, also my best friend @little-diable​ is a co star in this(surprise bithc).Enjoy our new add on the list, Cedric Diggory

Another year, another stash of newbies running around the castle. (Y/n) was walking to class alongside with her friend Chiara when she started to hear the whispers

“Of course they are slytherins”

You smirked at the young girls comment. She had to admit her and her friends walk was very noticeable and kind of demanded attention, their heads held high, usually an eyebrow raised, good posture and their shoes making a click clack sound against the well polished floor.

“you think anyone will join us this year?”

“Of course, thing is if they will be able to keep up”

She answered.(Y/n) never cared about the little kidos but it was funny to see them struggling and desperately trying to blend in by being rude and snobby, of course slytherin had a cunning reputation but there is a difference between confident and cocky, especially when you are a little kid.

Soon enough they were outside their class, as they opened the doors everyone was already at their seats and professor Snape stared right at them. Snape had a weird bond with (y/n), he knew she was powerful and she put in the work, a clear over achiever but she could be extremely stubborn,cold and sometimes even arrogant, her snarky comments were an annoyance.

“You are late”

“We like to make an entrance”

“Besides it’s only 3 minutes”

Chiara jumped in to defend her friend. They started to walk again at their assigned seats -they weren’t really assigned, they just always sat there- 

“3 minutes are important young lady. 10 points from slytherin”

“Oh what a shame, how will we ever get them back?”

(Y/n) whispered just loud enough for Snape to hear and for some of the students to laugh. Snape decided to ignore her and continue with his lecture.

As they sat down (y/n) saw a note waiting for her, her name written in beautiful calligraphy. Of course no one had dared to touch it nor question who was leaving notes for the lady who was pretty well known for getting caught giving sweet love kisses in the after hours.

“Well well well,at least he is always on time”

Chiara knew about him. At first she was shocked her friend would not only consider but being genuinely interested in a hufflepuff. As much (y/n) hated to admit it, she was slowly catching feelings for Cedric, he was sweet, gentle, but also passionate. She hid her smile as she carefully opened the note

“12 am, at our spot?”

She bit her lip and looked at her friend. Chiara winked at her before giggling in a dirty manner, she was happy for her, she hadn’t seen her friend get sweaty palms and ask what she should wear in... ever really.

But her craving for him was a slow burning fire that was know getting taller. She wanted him for herself, just the little whispers of other girls saying how cute he is when he was walking down the halls were enough for her to think a hundred different ways to behead them and him. So she came up with a plan, to see if she was the only one feeling this way.

Cedric stared at her from the other side of the room. He had to admit that he felt his heart skip a beat when he saw her giggling after reading his note, he didn’t even understand how a slytherin girl could be so addicting, he was so intimidated yet drawn to her, they were a few times during their “dates” that she showed him her gentle side, nuzzling in his neck for a few seconds, a sweet gentle kiss before she runs from him, her fingers running through his hair in a soft manner.

 He wanted to ask her out officially, stand next to her proudly for the world to see, however he was scared of her reaction, what if she laughed at him? taunt him and reject him? he would be heart broken.

As their class came to an end and they had time to go out in the garden and relax, Cedric was playing around with his mates and (y/n) was waiting for her chance to start her plan.

“Want to see a cool show?”

“What has your evil mind come up with?”

“Stick around and you will find out”

She shot back in a low tone as she walked towards the guys and chose to go for the ultimate threat, good ol’ malfoy. She had heard from a few “sources” that malfoy had a little crush on her, he was also a slytherin and Cedric did not like him. He was fourteen which means (y/n) would never do anything, but a little chat was enough to see what she was working with

“Morning Malfoy”

Draco turned to look at her, he was in shock but he tried to hide it not wanting to mess with his reputation. He smiled at her and run a hand through his hair in order to calm himself down’

“Morning (y/n)”

“I just wanted to come here and say that if you need any help with the spells don’t hesitate to ask me or Chiara, we’ll be happy to help you”

“T-Thanks”

Even this part was amusing to her, seeing the arrogant, rude and full of himself little malfoy stutter when he talks to a girl, just this thing was a personal win for her, making boys stutter and lose their cool around her was her drug of choice. She took one step closer towards him and shyly licked her upper lip

“Oh don’t mention it, you are one of us right?”

Before he could respond (y/n) turned her back to him and walked to her friend. With the corner of her eye she saw her real target, Cedric. He had stopped playing and was looking in her direction, over the time they had spend together she had learned how he expresses his feelings and she could clearly understand by the way he looked at her, his lips slightly parted and how he nodded his head that he was livid.

Chiara was giggling, admiring her friends plan that had clearly walked, she always loved to see (y/n) play around with guys brains-if they had any- it was truly a sight to see.

“You little rascal, he is fuming”

“Unfortunately you won’t be there for the finale tonight”

-

As the hours passed and (y/n) carefully slipped through the halls and the teachers guarding the castle to go and see her plan had brought her. As she approached him she could see his tense back, he was whispering to himself, his hands curling into fists and then released.

(y/n) hugged him from the back and got on her tip toes to give him a kiss. If that little incident had not happened he would have been the happiest man in the world right now.

“Hello darling”

“Since when are you so interested in Malfoy?”

Well, there goes his plan of casually slipping it in the conversation. He couldn’t hold his feelings any longer, he was hurt, almost betrayed, was she really interested in other guys? no, she couldn’t, he wouldn’t be able to handle it.

“What are you talking about?”

“(y/n) this is really not the time to play the aloof card, you never talk to him”

“How do you know who i do and don’t talk to Cedric?”

She was pushing it, she knew she was playing with fire and it  was extremely dangerous, but where’s the fun in being careful right? 

“So you are just suddenly a good Samaritan and decided to help Draco with his homework?”

“I didn’t know you were able to hear from that far, that’s an actual skill”

“Stop it!”

He didn’t yell at her, he would never -he was secretly too scared- he just raised his voice enough to show he was being serious. (y/n) looked around to make sure no one was around, she didn’t want another “scandal” on her back, she turned back to him and smirked at the flustered Cedric

“Are you jealous?”

“Yes, yes I am”

“Why? Last time I checked I am not your girlfriend”

“Like you would say yes if I asked you, I’m not stupid (y/n)”

She laughed. There it was, finally he said what she was dreaming of hearing, those sweet little words of victory,her plan worked perfectly and she got a relationship out of it, just like she had planned.

“Are you laughing at me”

“Yes I am, but not for the reason you are thinking of”

He was just looking at her, utterly confused with the way she was behaving. (y/n) tried to contain herself and got closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and looking straight in those beautiful eyes.

“Did you really think I would go for a boy that’s younger than me? I just wanted you to admit your feelings for me”

He felt his whole body relax, his heartbeat going back to normal. Now it was his turn to wrap his arms around her waist and spin her around, (y/n) giggled and gave him a kiss on his soft warm lips.

“You little sneaky fox”

“I didn’t get into slytherin by accident love”

[ramp-it-up]

Sundancer

Pairing: Rafael Casal x Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Minors DNI, Some pictures, Angst, Pining, drinking, explicit language, oral sex (female/male receiving), love fluff. All errors my own.

A/N: This an ask from @honeysucklechocolatedrippin​ from the 100 smut prompts ask list. I got caught up with this one because I went back to the Show Runner AU.  I kinda love these two.  Hope you enjoy. Read Show Runner.

-------

This press tour was going to be all work. No play. 

Those were the strict rules that you were given.

This was the premiere film and television festival and January in Park City could be a fun, wild place and time, but you were on the clock. 

There would be no open flirting, touching, or even covert fucking while the cast was there. 

You listened to the lecture and smiled and nodded when appropriate.

Truth be told, you really weren’t paying attention, just waiting on your knees, naked and wet, to suck the shit out of his dick. 

When he gave you permission to of course.

You were determined to suck all those stupid ideas out of his brain along with all his cum when he gave you the chance. 

And Rafael was, indeed, without much coherent thought when you were done.

_____

Wednesday 

That conversation was of no consequence to you four days later when you landed in Park City. 

Daveed and Rafa had been there for two days and the rest of the cast was trickling in. 

You gathered your bag while answering a few questions from the paps and headed to your hotel alone, following the driver who held your name up outside baggage claim to a luxury suv.

You texted Rafael that you had landed, to which he just replied, “Good.”

No, ‘how was your flight,’ nothing. 

You sighed, assuming he was busy. 

He had been texting you nonstop for the past three days and now he wanted to play you. 

That was cool.

You relaxed as you took in the snowy scenery of snowy Park City. 

You were taken to a stunning tiny little chalet at the edge of the city and halfway up the mountain. 

The views were spectacular, the cute cozy kitchen fully stocked, and the fireplace was bomb.

As you took in all the antler decor, you texted Rafa again, hyped at the accommodations.

This is dope!

You made sure your cleavage was right in your v-neck sweater and took a selfie of you from above in the bedroom. 

I can’t wait to be on my knees for you later.

You saw the thought bubbles, but no response.

Cool cool cool. 

If that’s what he wanted. That’s what he would get. Ice.

You shook your head and looked in the refrigerator for water. You also found your favorite snacks. 

Production thought of everything. You’d thank Gwen later.

You relaxed on the couch until it was time to get ready for the mixer. 

The car was ready to go at 6:45, in time to get you fashionably late to the Television mixer at the Waldorf Astoria at 7.

Because of all the traffic, you didn’t arrive until 7:30, but you were chilling. You spotted your crew immediately, partly because they were the loudest. 

You loved this new family you made.

“Ayyyy! What’s cracking! We thought you’d never make it. Late flight? You want a drink?”

You laughed at Daveed, seeing that he was on his way to getting lit.

“I’ll have what you’re having.” 

He raised his cute ass eyebrow at you. “This grown folks shit. You sure?”

“Yes. I’m grown. I need to catch up to you! I misjudged the time to leave my chalet. What time did you all leave yours?”

“Ummmm. I walked downstairs like 20 minutes ago. The whole cast is staying here. You’re the only one staying on the other side of town.”

“Oh.” 

You didn’t know what to say as Daveed turned to go get your drink.

You looked around and saw a lot of actors you’d love to work with, some you already had, and some you knew to stay away from.

You spotted Rafa’s golden hair on the other side of the room. 

You weren’t going to go after him, and you didn’t need to, because some of your cast mates enveloped you and Daveed brought you a drink.

You were having too good a time to worry about Mr. Artistic Integrity.

You two circled the room, never really ending up in the same place. You finally saw him with Gwen and got a chance to talk. Rafa saw you approach. He nodded.

“Hey, Long time no see. You make it in ok ?”

You looked at Rafael for an extra beat. He’d seen you up close and personal three days ago when you’d ridden his face. 

But you were an actor. You could play this game.

“Hey Casal. Yeah, I got a few hours ago.” 

You turned to the logistics producer. 

“Gwen! My chalet is so dope!”

She raised her eyebrow at you. 

“That’s great! So, you wanted peace and quiet and away from the rest of us, ay?” Gwen laughed as you and Rafa smiled politely. You were seething. 

“Trying to avoid all the parties. I get it now, although I thought it was weird that you declined accommodations.”

“You know our girl, always a loner.”

Rafael took a sip of his drink, looking at you over it. Your blood boiled but you turned and smiled at Gwen.

“Yeah. On my INFJ shit. What’s the lineup for tomorrow?”  

You made small talk to avoid cussing Rafael the fuck out. He stood there for a minute, listening and being an adorable muthafukin asshole. 

Other people came up and you didn’t even notice Rafa step away. But you spotted him, in a corner with that little twat Ava with the tight little body. Just his type.

He saw you stalking out of the mixer as he chatted her up.

—-

Two hours later, you were cozy in the hot tub, smoking some kush to relax, scrolling your phone. 

A TMZ post from your explore page caught your eye. 

There was a picture of Daveed, next to Rafa and Ava, who looked pretty close and fucking beautiful together. 

The gossip site gushed over the picture of the Bay Boys, noting the ‘adorable couple’ and their mingling at the mixer and somehow sneaking in a not so subtle hint that they were staying at the same hotel.

That was the final straw. You saw it all. Rafa wanted you far away from him while he fucked this little miniature Bratz doll. Bet.

It was only midnight. You were going to get your own plastic action figure for the night.

——

Thursday 

The next morning, you met up with the crew at the suite which was set up for the series press day. 

You went straight to Chelsea who was set up in the bedroom of the suite.

You gave her a hug and took off your sunglasses. Your eyes were puffy.

“Damn girl. You did have fun last night. I got just the thing for those circles.”

You breathed a sigh of relief and let her work her magic.

You emerged ten minutes later and went and got something to eat and a bottle of water from the catering station set up in the kitchen. You watched D and Rafa charm the interviewer. 

You took a deep breath. You could do this.

Ten minutes after that, you find yourself sitting in a chair with the cast lined up, somehow seated next to Rafael.

As the first interviewer was setting up, you got comfortable in your chair. Being a professional.

“I see you had fun last night.”

You looked over at Rafael as if surprised to see him there.

“I’m sorry?”

He smirked at you.

“I said it looks like you had fun with Michael last night.”

He held up his phone and you squinted at a post of you and your new friend, a highly sought after actor who had been in one of Rafa’s favorite movies. 

The pic was from after you went back out to the club last night. You were hugged up close.

You looked in his eyes and saw that he felt some kinda way. He had some fucking nerve.

You smirked. 

“Yeah. He’s really truly a dope person. Not just beauty, but brains too. I love an intelligent man. We… talked all night.” 

Rafa’s smile slipped. You sat back and put on a megawatt smile for the reporter.

The entire day was filled with your secret shots and animosity toward Rafa. 

You couldn’t wait to talk to him in private and tell him not to call your cell phone ever again.

Reporter: “This show has many complex relationships, and you are at the center of two of them that are just developing as the series begins. What do you do to ease into a new relationship?”

You leaned back and crossed your legs.

“That is a great question. Let’s just take an example of, say, meeting someone at... a club?”

Daveed leaned in front of Rafa and said, “This is not a true story from last night by the way.”

“Of course not,” you quickly replied and winked. Everyone laughed, everyone but Rafa.

“What I’ve found recently that works wonders is: ‘Oh my god you’re so much better than the last person I was with.’”

Everyone was dying laughing.

Rafa choked on his water. You leaned over and patted him on the back. “You good?”

He just glared at you. You shrugged and kept it moving.

“No, but really. You should start off in a relationship where you can be open and honest. There’s really no relationship if you can’t have that.”

Rafael cleared his throat, but you refused to look at him.

The press day continued.

After eight hours of interviews, you were ready to get out of there, so while Rafa and D were playing host, you managed to get out and to the car. 

You were exhausted of the tension.

On your way to the chalet, Rafa texted you.

‘We need to talk.’

You huffed. Now he wanted to talk. 

Well, tough shit. 

You blocked his number. 

You couldn’t function like this right now. You and him could break it off next week in LA. He was right, you were on the clock.

That night at the Midnight showing, you sat with Michael. 

Might as well try to have some fun. The paparazzi were snapping lots of pictures with you two.

While Mike took a quick interview, you made your way to the bar alone.

“You’ve not answered any of my texts. Or my calls.” 

You rolled your eyes at Rafael.

“You’ve texted and called?” 

You shrugged and took a drink.

“Look. We can do all that back in Cali next week. Gotta keep it professional here, isn’t that the deal?”

You downed your drink and walked back over to Michael, Rafael boring a hole in your back. 

He left you alone after that.

——

Friday

The next day and night were much the same, a cast interview and screening of two episodes during the day and another industry party at night. 

Rafa being so busy made it easy to stay away from each other.

You got back to your place with a bottle of tequila about midnight. 

You were flying out the next day and you should have some fun, even if it was not what you’d envisioned before you arrived in Park City. 

You hated Rafael Casal. 

But you refused to cry. Again.

An hour later, you looked up from your drunken haze to see Rafa standing over you. 

He looked so damn good in this dream.

“You shouldn’t drink a whole bottle of tequila in a hot tub, especially alone.”

“What the fuck do you care? You’re probably fucking Ava ten ways from Sunday right now.”

Dream Rafa raised his eyebrow at you and shook his head.

“Why would I want to fuck Ava?”

“Right? Especially when you could have all this.”

You stood up, almost falling and showing off your wet, naked body.  You giggled as he appreciated you, his eyes sweeping down your body.

Dream Rafa moved closer to you and grabbed your hand as you wobbled. 

“Let’s get out and get you some water.”

He helped you out and wrapped you in one of the huge white fluffy robes that you’d found in the closet.

He led you to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator.

You drank, your head clearing, but just a bit.

You kept staring at Dream Rafa, who was regarding you steadily, a weird look on his face.

When you finished, he walked you to the bedroom and watched as you lay down. You looked at the clock on the bedside table. It was 1:30 am.

You opened your robe and turned to see Dream Rafa in bed with you.

“How convenient. I’m so so horny Dream Boy. Haven’t had any dick since last week.” 

You untied the robe and grabbed your breasts, squeezing them and rolling your nipples, arching your back.

Rafael watched you hungrily.  

“Help me to get off. Fuck me, Dream lover. The real Rafa doesn’t want me anymore…”

You moved your hand down to your core and started playing in it, moaning and watching Rafa watch you.

As he licked his lips, you brought your hand up and let him taste the wetness on your fingers. He hummed, then took your hand in his.

“Not like this. I want you. Fully present and clear headed. But I want you. And we need to talk.”

He kissed the palm of your hand and covered you with the robe again.

You groaned and turned away from him.

“Even the Rafael of my dreams reject me? I can’t believe I’m in love with such a jackass.”

You didn’t feel Rafa pull you close as you started shoring.

—

Saturday

You woke up alone, mad at the sunlight. Your head was pounding. 

Your mouth was parched, but you found a bottle of water on the bedside table. 

You grabbed it, grateful that you got it on the way to the bedroom last night. 

As you sat up and drank, you groaned as you thought back to your dream. 

You had to get him out of your system.

You got up and went to the kitchen, halfway expecting to see him there. 

You sighed with something that must have been relief when he wasn’t there. 

You took your water and some grapes to the little kitchen bar and sat there, eating and drinking slowly with your head in your hand.

You jumped when you heard a key in the front door and stared when Rafa let himself in. 

“Look who’s up. Bet you’ve got a doozy of a headache.” 

You just continued to gape as he put his bags down on the counter. He handed you a bottle of aspirin.

“You’ll need these.” He put some pedialyte in front of you. “And this.”

“Wait. Did you just let yourself in? With a key?”

“Yeah. This is my chalet. I own it.”

Your mouth dropped open. 

“I thought you had a hotel room.”

“I do. This is business so production put the cast up there. D and I decided to join.”

Your heart clenched at the fact he did not want you there too. What was this reality? Then you thought about the dream.

“Wait. Were you really here last night?” 

You were confusion.

Rafa smiled at you. 

“You want something to eat? Gotta get something in your stomach besides tequila and grapes.” 

You groaned and held your head at the realization that last night was not a dream.

“Fuck. Did I say all that? Did I do all that? Out loud?” 

You peeked at him through your fingers.

That smile. “Yeah.” 

You were mad. He looked to fucking happy. 

“Well, don’t take it personal. I was zooted. When I’m sober, I hate you Rafael.”

He frowned. “Are you sober now?”

You opened the bottle of aspirin and drank some pedialyte. 

“Unfortunately, yes. Very sober.”

Rafa moved next to you.

“I’m going to come closer so I don’t have to yell.”

He tipped your chin up with two fingers.

“I can’t believe I’m in love with a fucking brat.”

You were ready to fight.

“I’m a brat? I’m a BRAT?” 

You leaned back, your hands on the counter behind you to get some space from the electricity bouncing between you.

“You ignore me as soon as I land in the same city as you, and then you put me out here in this secret hideaway so you can fuck with that Ava chick.” 

You closed your eyes because you’d be damned if you cried right now. 

“I thought we agreed that we’d talk to each other before we tired of each other and got with other people?”

Rafa leaned close to you, caging you in with his arms on the counter beside yours. 

You could barely breathe, the emotions were getting the better of you. You just wanted to kiss him.

“Who told you that I fucked Ava?” 

This time you raised your chin on your own.

“No one had to tell me. I saw the pictures of you two together. I can read, Rafa.”

“Not very well in this situation, I’m afraid.”

Rafa shook his head and looked down. Then looked back up at you with those damn eyes.

“You also don’t listen. Did you even hear what I said? I just said I love you.”

You just stared at him.

“Wait… what?”

Rafa brought his hips closer to yours, standing up tall. You wanted them on you.

“I love you, you fucking brat. Why would I want Ava when the woman I love has all this.”

And he reached for you, opening the tie on your robe. He sighed as he moved his hands on your brown skin. He was home.

“I want you to listen. Listen before you jump ahead and try to argue.”

You were about to say something and clamped your mouth shut at his warning glance.

“I told you, this was work. And we agreed not to go public with our relationship yet.”  

He saw you wanting to protest.

“We agreed.” 

His hands spread against your stomach, thumbs on your warm nipples.

“I wasn’t ignoring you, I was controlling myself. I wanted to meet you at the airport, but the paps are swarming.”

Rafael's blue eyes were now dark.

“And I didn’t stash you away because I wanted to fuck Ava, but because this is my home and I wanted you in it.” 

Rafa finally kissed you, and you took his tongue in your mouth, wanting to own a part of him.  Your moan while you kissed was getting him even harder.

“And when you sent me that picture of you in the bedroom, I wanted to run over here and take you in every room,  but I couldn’t. Still working. Just had to jack off when I could. To that picture.”

You moaned as his words made you drip down your thigh.

He pressed his pelvis to you and you could feel how hard he was. You took a ragged breath and forced your hands to remain on the counter. 

But you looked up into those burning blue eyes. You were wet and ready.

“It was killing me knowing that you were so close, sleeping in my bed without me, naked in my hot tub without me, and that I couldn’t touch you, hold you. Fuck the shit out of you. Hear you scream my name.”

“Tire of you? God, I wish I could get tired of you. I want you all the time, I can hardly function when you’re not around.”

He kissed across your collarbone to the other side of your neck. You were definitely weak.

“I was coming over that first night, but I saw you going out. To the club. Where it seems you hooked up with Mike.” 

Rafa bit down on your pulse point.

“Rafa, I…”

Rafa licked the spot he just bit. 

“Shhh. I know you didn’t get with him, but you were a bit of a bitch at the Q and A day. And then you took him to the midnight screening.”

Rafa was appraising your body possessively now.

“You tried to make me think that you were with him; that he was touching you like this.”

Rafa grabbed your breasts and squeezed your nipples between your fingers. You arched into his hands.

“It was like you were teasing me.” 

His hands moved down your torso and around to your ass, squeezing and pulling your cheeks apart and ghosting your intimate parts with his fingers.

“You know I don’t like to be teased.”

He released you and took two steps back, leaving you feeling bereft.

You were panting in the middle of his kitchen. You felt what it was like to be teased.

“Rafa, I’m sorry. Please…”

Rafa was two steps ahead of you. He was pulling his Oaklandish hoodie over his head. Then he shook his head at you.

He bent his head to your breast as he lifted it roughly to meet his lips. He drew your hard bud between his lips and grazed it with his teeth. 

Rafa nipped and sucked your flesh roughly as he licked the fingers in his other hand and reached between your legs.

“Did you want Mike to touch your cunt like this?”

“No...only you Cash…”

He traced his fingers between your wet lips, causing you to shudder and moan. Then he started to tease your clit.

“Tell me what I want to hear. Tell me you love me.”

“I..I…” You didn’t know when it happened, but it did. “Fuck it. I love you Rafael.” 

You sigh in relief and with desire as he pushed his fingers deeper into you.

He moaned softly in your ear as he pressed you back against the island.

“Good girl. Now tell me more. Tell me you love what I’m doing to you right now. Tell me you love this shit.”

“I love it so fucking much,” you squeaked, holding on to his shoulders for dear life, your nails digging in.

As he pumped his fingers, you wriggled and started to grind against his hand. As you wriggled more, he cursed under his breath.

“Fuck! Stay still.”  

His tongue licked up and down your neck as his hand went faster and faster, playing you like an instrument.

You were getting so close, and Rafa could feel it. So he stopped and stepped back again, panting while he tasted his fingers and leaving you quivering and emotional.

You refused to beg, but he knew what you needed.

“I want to punish you for not listening to me and your heart, but I can't because I’d be punishing myself.”

He walked toward you again, put his hands on you and slid down your body as he knelt before you.

Rafa looking up at you like that made you fall in love all over again. 

He leaned forward and kissed your lower lips oh so tenderly. Then, he licked them, and you had to hold on to the counter again. Then he started talking.

“I’ve been hard for you ever since you texted me that you touched down.” 

He kissed each of your thighs and lifted one up and rested it on his shoulder. You were not ready.

“I was so pissed off all day. Until I saw you that night.”

Rafa lightly licked a long stripe between your legs.

He pulled back and looked at your pussy, as if entranced.

“But, I stayed away from you at the mixer because I knew I would drag you to a bathroom and bend you over the sink…”

Rafa slowly rolled his tongue over your slit. You held your hand over your mouth as you watched him.

He looked up at you and chuckled. 

“No close neighbors. Let me hear you.” 

He sighed as he looked at you again. 

“I wanted to take you in the bedroom at the suite during the press day and put your ankles around your ears to dig out that attitude.”  

Rafa licked you again, making you tremble and moan loudly.

“I decided to come and give you an ultimatum last night, but I get here and you were so cute and drunk and said that you loved me.”  

He graced you with a smile. You smile back and brush his hair out of his eyes.

“I know you said that I don’t own you. But you own me. Body and soul. I’m starving for you.”

And then he dove in, making you gasp as he eagerly parted your lips with his tongue and started to flick it back and forth over your clit, grasping your ass and your leg to support you and keep you in place.

This time he didn’t stop. He licked and sucked and swiped, his head moving back and forth as he ate. He did it until your eyes rolled back into your head and you were screaming his name. He increased his pace and intensity until you were a quivering, moaning mess. 

You come on Rafa’s face in the middle of a ski chalet in Park City, Utah.

You were still quivering as you watched him stand up, take off his shirt and wipe his face with it.

“So, you can take your flight back to LA in a couple of hours, or you can stay until Monday and we can be seen together tonight. In public.”

Your face lit up as he led you to the bathroom. You were catching on.

“And we will be ‘good friends’ for a few weeks until we let on.”

“Now, you’re listening.” Rafa was smiling wide now.

“Wait, does Diggs know about us?” Rafa started taking off his pants. You needed what was inside.

“Nevermind. I know the answer, Jackass.”  

You ignored Rafa’s laugh as you began to make up for lost time.

-------

Read the next part, Scene Stealer Tagging: 

@theatrenerd86 @lonelydance @sillyteecup @ohsoverykeri  @theselilwonders @theatrenerd86 @sebastianabucknettastan @imatyoursurrvicesurr @riiyy @ivycomet @lonelydance @jbrizzywrites @curtainremote @biafbunny @summerofsnowflakes @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @peaches-and-mangoes​​​ @delaber @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @einfachniemand​

[levis-hazelnut]

Summary: when you and your best friend, Hanji, were younger, you had made up stories about your dream guys - what they would look like and how you would meet. What happens when the one you had made up appears to be real?

Warning(s): ig there’s suggestions of sex, but only if you squint.

Taglist (closed!): @castellandiangelo @fandom-addict19​ @20coldhearts​

Status: completed!

part 5 > part 6 > part 7

series masterlist

(B/N) = brother’s name

"What's up with her? Why is she so bubbly and giddy?" Levi murmured to the female that stood beside him and gently gripped his hand as they both leaned against the wall outside Petra's lecture hall. "It's her birthday tomorrow. Did she not mention it?" Petra replied, looking up at her boyfriend. "Yeah, she did. But I don't get why she looks so happy as if she's getting married or something." "Levi, Petra!" I beamed and walked up to them with a grin on my face. I glanced down at their fingers that intertwined with each other before flickering my eyes up at their faces, not paying attention to it. "How are you two?"

"Good," was Levi's curt reply. "We're fine. What about you?" was Petra's sweeter reply. "I'm great. I was just heading to the cafe because I'm craving some coffee. So, I'll see you two later." "Oh, okay. Bye,” the female smiled at me before I walked away. "Wait, (Y/N)," Levi said just as I took two steps.

I turned around to see him peck Petra's lips and say a few words to her before she strolled into her lecture hall, and we made our way outside. The smile remained on my lips, however, it was not fake. You see, those two have been dating for two months now so any kind of affection they express doesn't affect my mood too much. Yes, I feel jealousy but it doesn't make me too upset like it did at the start. I mean, I kind of still wish for them to break up, but it's whatever. I don't want to be a bitch and mess up their relationship just because I like him. They're happy together and I don't want to ruin that, especially because seeing them happy actually makes me happy "(Y/N)!" Levi and I stopped in our tracks, looking behind to see Jean. I grinned at him and he returned it before the three of us continued our journey to the cafe which was a few minutes away. "Happy birthday, baby girl." "First of all, do not call me that. Second of all, why are you saying it today if my birthday is tomorrow?" "Because I might not see you tomorrow." "What do you mean?" I inquired before a frown made its way onto my face. "You better not go and disappear for a month again, otherwise my sole purpose in finding you will be to slap your ass. I swear--" "Hey, hey, hey, I never said anything about going anywhere," he chuckled softly. "Although, I wouldn't mind if you slap--" "Shut up. So, why won't you see me?" "I don't know. I thought you wouldn't come in since it's your birthday, and I'm guessing you would do something with your family or something." "Oh, I see. But, I will be coming in, even though we have lectures all day tomorrow, and I honestly don't know what I'm doing yet." "I can plan a little party for just both of us," he smirked, so I playfully slapped his arm. "Hm. Looks like you've also got many fans, darlin'," Levi muttered to me so I rolled my eyes. "What, are you denying it?" "Do I ever have a swarm of boys surrounding me if I'm just standing in the corridor, doing nothing? Or have males years older hit on me?" "No, but you do have quite a bit of fans that you may or may not know about." "What are you saying? Has someone said something to you?" "Who was the heartthrob before I appeared?" My eyes widened when I realised what he was saying. The heartthrob in our university likes me? Let me tell you a bit about him. First of all, his name is Lucius, sexy-ass name, hands down (no, I do not want to name my son Lucius, in hopes that he'll turn out to look like him). His skin is so smooth, spotless and is a tan hue (no, I do not want to caress his perfectly, beautiful face). He has the most beautiful green eyes I have ever seen; they're green with specks of brown around his iris (no, I have not just stared into his eyes in the middle of a conversation). He has a straight-edged nose that looks too fun to boop (no, I have never dreamt about doing that). He has the perfect, soft, plump lips that just urge females to kiss him (no, I am not one of those females). He has an angular jaw that could possibly cut me if I do so much as poke it (no, I have never tried touching it to see if my prediction is true). Now, let me go to his hair. Ah, his hair. It's a light brown which looks so soft and fun to play with (no, I do not want to run my fingers through his hair). And that is his description. God, I'll be lying if I said I haven't drooled over him. And the best thing is that he doesn't have that fuckboy personality, however, he is egoistic. But, it's not that bad. He's surprisingly kind and doesn't just talk to the 'cool people'.

I've only spoken to him a few times, and maybe we exchanged numbers, and maybe I've hung out with him, and maybe I've gone over to his house and he's come over to mine. Although, nothing has ever happened, and he has never tried to ask me out on a date, so I never saw this coming. "No way. You're lying," I spoke, still surprised. "I've never seen you speak to him. I don't believe you. Who told you? When did you find out? Lucius does not like me. Do not lie to me, Ackerman." The raven smirked. "Someone has a crush on him." I scoffed. "No, I don't... It's just shocking that the heartthrob of our uni supposedly likes me out of all people. Tell me where you heard this." "The previous heartthrob, I'm the current one," he corrected, being a cocky mf, before continuing when I rolled my eyes. "And just because you've never seen me talk to him, doesn't mean I haven't." "When did you find out?" "Last week." "Bitch, why didn't you tell me then, you asshole?" "Because I never knew you had feelings for him." "I do not. And I still don't believe you--" "It's true. What Levi's saying is true," the brown-haired male on my left told me as I walked in between them. "And how do you know?" I crossed my arms. "He told me as well, but this was a few months ago. The only reason he told me was that he knew you and I were close and thought that I could help him. However, I didn't because--" "Yeah, I know," I cut him off, already knowing the answer which was that Jean still liked me at the time. "Yeah, that's why he told me as well," Levi said, opening the door to the cafe. I let Jean go in first and I followed after him, Levi trailing behind. "I mean, he never told me to tell you, but to help him I thought I should tell you, which makes it easier. And since you two like each other, go fuck." I scowled and lightly slapped his bicep for being so vulgar. "I'm being honest, I don't have any feelings for him. What am I meant to do now?" "Darlin', Lucius, the former heartthrob, has his eyes on you. And you aren't going to do anything about it?" "What do you expect me to do? Lie to him, get into a loving relationship, which will be completely one-sided, and then get married?" I questioned, standing in the queue. "Yeah." "Are you a fucking idiot?" "(Y/N), there are probably hundreds of girls that would love to be in your place," Jean pointed out. "Yeah, I'm not one of them," I muttered, my heart still clinging onto Levi who was taken and obviously doesn't like me, whereas, there's Lucius, who's kind, sweet, funny, single and so damn sexy, and he's the one that likes me. Why is life so difficult? "I can't just force myself to fall in love with him." "What's stopping you?" Levi asked. "Even I think he's a dream guy." You are the only dream guy. "So do I," Jean said. "Nothing's stopping me. I just don't feel anything for him," I stated with a shrug. "Tch. Is Eren working today? I'm not bothered to wait in this queue and hear your shit." "You don't have to be so rude," I pouted in mock offence. "Anyway, I don't think so." "You might want to think again, princess," an additional voice joined the conversation. I found Eren walking towards us after clearing a table. "What are these two annoying you about?" "Apparently, Lucius Silva likes me. These two are trying to help him and want me to date him, however, I don't want to because I simply don't have any romantic feelings for him. They think something is stopping me from dating him. You know I've never actually developed feelings for that stupidly beautiful guy. Yeah, I do find him hot as fuck and so sweet, but I truly don't have a crush on him or whatever." "Lucius? That guy in your uni that every girl falls for?" he asked and I nodded. "He is charming, but you have no feelings for him, so forget about it." "Thank you. So both you idiots can forget about it. I'm going to talk to him myself so stay out of it now." "This is coming from another one of your fans. He probably just wants you to himself," Levi murmured. "Why are you so eager to make me date him? I'll date who I truly like and when I want to." "Who is this person that you truly like?" Jean inquired. "... No one. I'm saying that once I find that person, I'll date them." "Hey, leave her alone now, Horseface. Let (Y/N) do what she wants," Eren backed you up, draping an arm around your shoulders. "Anyway, here's a free table so you can sit down. What do you guys want?" "I--" "Wait, ladies first," Eren cut Jean off with a smirk. "Just my usual coffee. Thanks." "Of course. And Levi?" "An Earl Grey with no milk." "Okay. And what do you want, Jean?" "A--" "Sorry, we're out of that." "Eren, stop being a jerk. Let Jean order," I told him, holding back my laugh. "Could I have a tuna sandwich, please?" he said through gritted teeth. "Sure. I'll bring your orders soon." "Thank you, Eren." "He's such a prick." "Well, he's a prick that stopped you guys from forcing me to date Lucius-- Oh, god, why?" I groaned and flitted my eyes away from the entrance of the cafe as Levi and Jean's eyes wandered over to where I was previously looking, finding Lucius walking in by himself. "Ah, perfect timing," Jean smiled and I shot him a glare. "Are you going to say anything?" "No. But if he comes up to me, then yeah. Ugh, and it looks like he's coming to our table," I mumbled. "Hey, stop stressing. This would've been completely normal if we hadn't told you," Levi murmured. "Whatever. I hate people-- Hi, Lucius," I beamed. "Hey. Do you mind if I sit?" he asked in that husky, sexy voice that I wish I could listen to all day. And there was a sexy smile playing on his sexy lips, flashing his great teeth that made him all the more charming. Ah, and those dimples. Why does he have to look so good? “Of course," I smiled and removed my bag from the only unoccupied seat, allowing him to sit next to me. It was a round table that made us kind of sit in a circle and my situation was not okay. Uh, I'm kind of sitting in between both of the most attractive men I've met - Levi and Lucius. Ugh, I can just bet I'm blushing so hard right now. I want to get out of this position. Where's Eren? He'll save me. "It's your birthday tomorrow, right?" "Yeah. I haven't planned anything special since I don't know what I want to do." "I offered--" Jean started but I kicked his shin under the table. "Nevermind." "Why don't we do something together, like us four and any other friends you want?" "Um, I'll see because I think my family might be planning something. But, your idea does sound great." "Make sure you let me know if you're free." If he didn't say to invite other friends, it would literally sound like he's asking me out on a date. "I will. Anyway, tell me your order." "It's fine. I can go order myself." "You can, but you'll have to wait in the queue. Just tell me what you want." "Okay," he grinned. "Can I just have an iced coffee, please?" "Sure. I'll be right back," I stated and stood up from my seat, finally being able to escape. I exhaled and found Eren, holding a tray with our orders on it. "(Y/N). What do you need?" "Lucius kind of joined our table and I needed a way to get up from the table, so could I have an iced coffee for him?" "Yeah, you can wait by the counter if you don't want to sit there yet. I'm just going to give these to the two idiots and make his iced coffee." "Okay." I stood by the counter, waiting for Eren to come back and he soon did, beginning to make Lucius' beverage. "What happened? Why were you so uncomfortable?" "Well, I just found out today that Lucius likes me so obviously I don't want to talk to him straight away. And I was sitting in between him and Levi. And he told me that if I don't have plans for my birthday, me and those idiots sitting at the table should go out and I can invite other friends." "I see... I honestly don't know what you should do. Just try and forget about it since you have no feelings for him." "Eren, what if we do go somewhere tomorrow and he ends up asking me out or telling me he likes me?" "Wow. I've never seen a girl not want to date him. I bet even Hanji would even though she has a boyfriend," Eren chuckled and I frowned at him since it wasn't amusing for me. "Anyway, if that happens, turn him down. Don't be rude about it, just let him know you aren't interested in getting into a relationship." "But what if he doesn't talk to me anymore? I still want to be friends." "Why do you want to be friends with everyone? You have to let some people go." "Lucius is not a person, he's an angel. And I want to be friends with him because he's a great guy in general." "Then tell him that even though he likes you, things won't be awkward and you still want to be in contact with him." "I actually love you so much," I blurted out and Eren grinned, handing me the cool drink. "Anyway, thank you so much for your help." "No problem. Now, go sit down and forget about everything. Boys are idiots, just remember that." I giggled and nodded before giving him a small wave and sitting down at the table. I placed the iced coffee in front of Lucius who smiled at me. Do not smile at me. You're already attractive, a smile makes you look like a freaking Adonis. "Thank you." "You're welcome." ~/~ So, it looks like I'm going to go out with Lucius, Levi and Jean since my family decided that it would be better for me to spend my birthday with my friends. However, people I wanted to invite didn't come since they said they were busy with something. Like bitch, it's my birthday, you aren't allowed to be busy. Even Eren and Hanji aren't coming. I thought Eren, of all people, would come to help me. "(Y/N)! Hey," the tanned male smiled as he approached me, in the place where we agreed to meet up, which was just outside our university. "Oh, hey," I replied. "Jean and Levi have something to do. They cancelled last minute." "What?" I uttered, realising it'll just be me and him. I hate everyone. "Yeah, they said they have to do something, I don't know what it was. Do you still want to go somewhere?" "... Sure," I spoke after some consideration. "Do you have anything in mind?" "You're the birthday girl, you choose." "I don't mind. I'm literally up for anything." "Well, I was thinking of going ice skating, if you want." "Yeah, that sounds fun." "Let's go, then," he smiled. But it was a different kind of smile. I couldn't tell what it was, but it wasn't his usual, charming smile. I brushed it off as I followed him towards his car. He first opened the boot to let me put my backpack and the gift bags I had inside before closing it. He then opened the door for me, I gave him a small smile and 'thank you' before sitting down as he gently shut it before sitting in the driver's seat. "Did any of your other friends not want to come?" "They all apparently had something to do--" I was cut off by my phone ringing, so I fished it out of my pocket before answering it. "Hello?" "Hey, (Y/N)." "Eren. Aren't you meant to be busy doing something?" I asked coldly. "Hey, don't be annoyed. I have an assignment to give in on Monday but I didn't even make a start on it until now. Anyway, I'm taking a break to talk to my princess since I'm sure she isn't having a great time without me. Are you going out with Jean, Levi and Lucius?" "No. Levi and Jean also cancelled. I didn't expect everyone to try and avoid me on my birthday" "You're nineteen years old now, stop acting as if you're nine so don't sulk," he told me, making me wonder how he knew I was sulking. "And, I'm not avoiding you. Aren't I the only one who called you?" "Maybe... But, I'm still not happy with you." "Okay, so what are you doing now?" "I'm going to go ice skating with Lucius, my only true friend." Eren chuckled on the other side of the phone and I heard the male driving laugh as well. "I'm sorry. I'll try and finish this shitty thing before Monday and then I'll promise to take you somewhere. I'll even force everyone to come." "Thank you," I grinned. "I'll see you soon." "Okay, bye." "Everything okay?" "Eren just decided to check up on me. He has some assignment to do." "Brunette, teal eyes?" "Yeah. I introduced you to him before. And we hung out a couple of times." "I like him, he's a good person." During the rest of the journey, we spoke some more before we eventually reached the ice rink. We paid (well, Lucius did since he said he has to treat the birthday girl), we put on our skates and stepped onto the rink. However, I had some trouble since I hate falling on my butt if I slip. Also, what if when I fall, someone's skates slice my fingers? So much danger. "(Y/N), there are people behind you, come on." I bit the inside of my cheek before taking the attractive man's outstretched hand, stepping onto the ice. I wobbled but he kept me up, making sure that I wouldn't fall. I reached to grab the ledge of the rink, but Lucius had other ideas. He prevented me from holding onto the rim and took me to the middle as his grip loosened on my hand. "No! Don't let go!" I shouted, clutching his hand as he chuckled, puffs of air emanating from his nose and mouth. "I never knew you were scared of something like ice skating," he said, leading me back to the edge of the rink so I could hold onto it. He still stayed by my side, smirking at me. "What are you smiling about?" I inquired, with the arch of my eyebrow. "You look adorable when you're afraid," he told me quietly, causing a red tint to creep onto my cheeks. "I'm going to let go now. I'm coming back to you in five minutes, and I want to see you twirling in the middle like a ballerina," he teased and I playfully rolled my eyes. "You ask for too much." "Well, if you aren't skating by yourself in five minutes, I'm going to drag you back to the middle and leave you." "You're so mean. I'm going to die." "It's an ice rink. How the hell are you going to die?" he laughed softly. "Someone's skates can slice my neck if I fall." "That's very unlikely. Anyway, I'll see you in a few." "Okay." I tried skating by myself, but every time I did, I felt as if someone was going to knock me down and kill me. Yeah, I may be being dramatic, but I'm sure it can happen. Soon, I was kind of, sort of, not really skating away from the edge, which is when the heartthrob decides to scare me, causing me to flinch and slip. However, you know those stupid, rom-com films in those cliché moments when a character is about to fall, someone (and that someone just happens to be a love interest or some shit like that) saves them by catching them and it's all romantic and stupid and they end up kissing. Yeah, well, this is one of those stupid cliché moments where Lucius catches me and my arms wrap around him, and our faces are only centimetres away. He quickly straightened both of us so we were standing, and he just blinked at me when I stared at the ice beneath my skates. Fortunately, we didn't kiss. "Thanks," I muttered. "Don't worry about it. Also, I'm happy to see that you aren't holding onto something." "Well, I thought that it would be better to skate myself than to have you force me." "True. However, I don't see you twirling like a ballerina." "Hey, no, I'm not doing that. You can't even do that." "You sure about that? Watch." He seized my hand once again and took me to the middle where he started to spin and skate. I gaped in amazement before he came back to my side, bringing me to spin and skate with him. I refused at first, but he ended up getting me to do it. And guess what? I fell. On my butt. Which is what I didn't want to happen. However, no one sliced my fingers off and Lucius helped me stand. When I was standing, we found out that our session was over so we had to leave the ice rink (aka, death valley). "Do you regret skating?" "No. I had fun. Thank you," I smiled. "Anyway, you know me so you should know my next question." "Where are we eating?" he guessed. "Yep." "What do you feel like?" "Uhh... Maybe Italian? What do you want?" "I don't care. But, I don't feel like sitting in a restaurant, I'd rather relax at one of our apartments and eat there. So takeaway?" "Sure, that sounds so much better than being in a place full of people. Want to chill at mine?" "Okay, let's go." Lucius and I got our food before driving towards my apartment, where I'm guessing Hanji was probably doing work or something since she was so busy to miss my birthday. I mean, it's half past six so maybe I could do something with her later. We parked near the apartment complex and walked up the stairs before I got my keys, unlocking the door to find all of the lights off. I frowned before turning on the light in the corridor, taking my shoes off as Lucius did the same. "I'm home!" I called like I usually did before locking the door and padding over to the living room, where it was dark as well with the tall male following. "I'll get drink--" I started, turning the light on. "SURPRISE!!!" "What the fuck?!" I yelled, taking a step back as my eyes ran over every person that stood in the living room. A couple of tears brimmed my eyes before dropping. "... I hate all of you," I mumbled and covered my face with my hands as I heard laughs. "Aw, (Y/N)." "Why are you crying?" "Hey, come on, you're meant to be smiling." I ignored the rest of the statements when I felt arms loop around me, and I knew who it was without having to look at them. I returned the hug and stuffed my face into their chest. "Happy birthday, princess," Eren whispered as he ruffled my hair. "You know how emotional I can be," I murmured. "Why did you do this?" "Are you saying you don't like it?" "No, I love it. Thank you so much. It's just that I embarrassed myself in front of so many people." “They don't care." "I still hate all of you for tricking me into thinking that you guys don't care about me." "Love you, too," he teased and ruffled my hair once again, pulling away from the embrace. He handed me a tissue and wiped my tears away. "Go change - there's an outfit on your bed." "Okay," I grinned, my eyes only focusing on him since I didn't want to look at anyone else yet. I first went to the bathroom to wash my face before going to my room. I found one of my favourite dresses laying on it, along with some jewellery. I changed into it and put on the jewellery before styling my hair to my liking. I also put on a little bit of makeup prior to looking at my reflection, admiring my attire. Once I was happy with my outfit, I went back to the living room, where everyone was talking. I gave some people a grin when my mother approached me with a smile. "You look very pretty," she complimented me and I thanked her as she led me to the table where a cake rested with candles lit. "Happy birthday, sweetie." I blew out the candles with a smile before cutting it into slices. I was about to take a bite of my cake slice before my father stopped me. "Allow me," he said, taking the cake from my hands and bringing it to my mouth. Instead, he decided to smash it into my face as I let out a small gasp as others laughed. "Here." Levi gave me a tissue which I took. "Oh, Mr Moody, thank you." "Happy birthday, darlin'. I know I said it earlier, but whatever." "Thank you. Oh, I just remembered. I left all the gifts in Lucius' car, I'll go get them." "Oi, idiot, you're the birthday girl. Stay here and I'll ask him to bring them." "You're being surprisingly nice in a way." "Shut up." "Aw, you ruined it." He rolled his eyes before going to find Lucius as I went to Hanji, who was talking to Petra, Isabel and Farlan. They all grinned and greeted me, wishing me a happy birthday and passing me some presents, which I thanked them for. "Hanji, who and when did they plan all this?" "Eren and I did. We've been planning it for about a week, which is why no one went out with you today since they were helping. Thankfully, we had Lucius--" she cut herself with a gasp. "Does Lucius like you?" she asked once she saw that he was nowhere to be seen. "I think so. Both Jean and Levi said he does." "Oh my god!! That's amazing!" she squealed and I snorted. "Wait. Lucius Silva, the most attractive guy in our uni?" Petra questioned in surprise and I nodded. "Wow. I go for like two minutes and you're dreaming about another man," Levi teased when he joined our group conversation. Petra only smiled at him and muttered an 'idiot' under her breath.

"Anyway, has he asked you out, (Y/N)?" she questioned. "Nope. I don't want him to," I told them. "Are you crazy?!" Isabel suddenly shrieked. "He's so good-looking, and so kind, and so attractive, and just amazing! How do you not want him to ask you out?" "I don't wish to date him. I don't have any feelings for him." "Girl, you're crazy stupid." "Petra, you're dating this asshole here. Imagine you didn't like him and you found out he likes you out of all the other girls that hit on him. What would you do?" "I guess I wouldn't date him. I shouldn't force myself to just because of who it is, I should wait to date the right person I like." "Thank you so much. Your idiot boyfriend was saying the complete opposite and told me to get married to Lucius. In fact, other than Eren, you're the only person that understands me in this situation." "Levi, don't force her to date someone she doesn't even like." "Well, she claims she's not dating Eren and that she has no interest in anyone right now, so why shouldn't she go for it?" "I can find him sexy or whatever, but it doesn't mean I actually have feelings for him. I'm not going to magically fall in love with him if he asks me out. I'm going to be pretending and I don't want that. And shut up now since he's back." "(Y/N), I got your presents. Where should I put them?" "Oh, I'll take them to my room. Thanks for getting them." "No problem." I took the gift bags from his hold and placed them on my bed before making my way back to the living room, deciding to join another group. Ah, Eren, Jean, Armin, Connie, Sasha - all of them I knew from secondary school so they were the ones I loved the most. Except for Eren who I've known for more than half of my life. "Hey, guys!" I beamed and rested one arm on Jean's shoulders as the other draped around Armin. "(Y/N)! Happy birthday!" Sasha and Connie shouted at the same time and both of them passed me a present. "Thank you, both of you." Armin also gave me a gift which I thanked him for. Jean had already given me a present earlier at uni so he only told me how beautiful I looked, which I playfully rolled my eyes to. "I'm going to give you my present at the end of the evening," Eren told me. "You know, best for last." "Okay, thanks. Have you lot had drinks and snacks?" "I'm holding a plate of snacks right now," Eren pointed out with a soft laugh. I took some of his snacks and chucked them into my mouth, giving him a smile. "I just realised that I haven't eaten yet." "Go and get your ass some food." "I will. Let me just talk to you guys since they are going to be so many other people I have to talk to. And I love you guys the most here. Apart from my family, of course. But you're my second family."

I messed around with the five of them and burst into loud laughter many times. Soon, Hanji joined us and it was if we were back at secondary school since we're barely able to hang out like this now. "God, I actually miss this," Hanji grinned, wiping her tears away that fell when we were laughing. "Anyway, (Y/N)~ Lucius asked for you," she smirked. "Why? I don't want him to ask me out," I whined. "Lucius?" Armin, Sasha and Connie exclaimed at the same time. And I'm just glad that everyone is loud and there is music, otherwise he would've heard. I sighed before briefly explaining it to them, all of them being surprised. Before they could say anything else, like trying to force me to fall in love with him, I went to the man everyone loved. "Hey. You wanted to talk to me?" "Yeah. I haven't given you your present yet. Happy birthday." "Aw, thank you. I'll open it later since I've got a bunch and I'm not bothered to open all of them yet." "Okay. I hope you'll like it." "Thank you again. Also, we still haven't eaten, do you want to get some snacks?" "Sure," he said with a shrug and we both went to the kitchen where the snacks were set in different platters. He got both of us disposable plates and we filled out plates with food "Are you enjoying yourself so far?" "Yes, I'm so happy. This is definitely one of my best birthdays. And I'm guessing they asked you to keep me busy?" "Yeah. That's the only reason I said to get takeaway so I could bring you home. But I would still prefer that than staying in a restaurant, too." "Me, too. I'm never more comfortable than I am at home."

“You look very... beautiful, by the way." "Thank you. I didn't think I would get a compliment from you, the person that everyone swoons over." "Well, they can't help it. I'm too damn sexy," he smirked and winked. I laughed and lightly shook my head. "You're so cocky." "Are you one of those people that swoon over me?" "Nope. I'm not your ordinary girl." "You certainly aren't," he said quietly, causing me to glance up at him as both of us leaned against the counter in the kitchen, standing next to each other. "What do you mean by that?" I asked cautiously, hoping he wasn't going to tell me something in particular. "You're not like other girls. You're cool, smart, funny, kind, sometimes rude but in a jokey way, you can be strong, and on top of it all, you're beautiful," he confessed, and I bit the inside of my bottom lip. "(Y/N), I--" "(Y/N)!" a voice called, allowing me to breathe. I saw my mum calling me over and I quietly apologised to Lucius before going to my family. "What's up?" "You've barely spoken to us this whole time," my dad stated. "Well, dad, you smothered my face with cake." "Happy birthday, (Y/N)!" my little brother squealed and I picked him up. No matter how old he is, I'll always pick him up because he's too adorable. "(Y/N), who's that handsome guy you were talking with before?" my mum questioned with a smirk, so I rolled my eyes. "Lucius." "I'm going to have a talk with him," my father said, about to walk towards him but I stopped him. "Dad, I'm not in a relationship with him. And I don't like him either. There's nothing to talk to him about." "Fine. But if lays a finger on you, he's never coming near you again." "Well, we held hands when we went ice skating." "What?!" "It was because I was scared I was going to fall. Dad, there's nothing to worry about. He's a good person." "Okay, if you say so." "(Y/N), where's Eren?" the six-year-old boy asked and I turned around to look for said male. He was talking to Hanji and Historia. "He's over there. Why?" "I want to play with him." "I'll take you to him," I grinned. "Wait, (Y/N). Here's your present." "Oh, thank you. Could you leave it in my room, please, since my hands are kind of full?" "Okay." I smiled at my parents before making my way to Eren with (B/N) in my arms. He spotted me and gave me and my brother a toothy grin. "Hey, Eren. (B/N) said he wants to play with you." "Aw, okay." "Even though I don't want to, I need to go back to Lucius. I'm pretty sure he was about to confess his feelings to me but my mum called me," I whispered to Hanji who gasped and grinned. I don’t know why she was acting like I was going to get into a relationship with him, even though she knows I like Levi. I went back into the kitchen, apologising to the male once again as he brushed it off. "Um, you were saying something before I left..." "Yeah," he sighed and scratched the back of his head. "(Y/N), I... like you. Romantically," he proclaimed, and I pretended to be shocked. "Uh, are you willing to go on a date with me?" Okay, firstly, he's fucking cute when he's nervous. Secondly, I'm sorry but, I'm going to make him upset. "Lucius, you know I think you're a great friend. And as I was saying, I'm not one of those girls who have fallen in love with you. Don't get me wrong, you are sexy as hell, and you're sweet, and a gentleman, and any girl would be lucky to be with you. However, I can't be that girl. I'm sorry. I'm not interested in getting into a relationship with anyone right now. But, I promise you that we can still be friends and it won't be awkward at all. I don't want to lose you, you're a great friend, Lucius. Although, it's your choice." "..." He was silent and I bit the inside of my cheek, starting to feel guilty. I wanted to hug him, but I didn't want to give him any kind of affection after I said all that. "Lucius?" "... That's fine. If you're still willing to be my friend, that's good enough. Thanks for not being harsh about it," he told me with a small smile. It was a sad smile, which I've never seen on his soft lips. "I'm sorry." "You have nothing to apologise for. It's your choice on who you date or don't date. I'm sorry for bringing it up." "Don't say sorry. Everyone has feelings and should voice them out." "You're truly an amazing girl. Whoever you decide to date is going to be extremely fortunate." I giggled softly. "Thank you. Honestly, the same can be said about you." "Also, I know you think so much of me, so that satisfies me as well," he smiled, and this time, it was genuine so I returned it. "Well, if someone disagrees with what I said, they don't deserve to know you.”

He chuckled and pushed away from the counter, I followed suit.

"I'm going to the bathroom. Are you going to follow me there? Of course, I have no problem with that." I snickered. "I'm not following you, idiot. I'm going to Eren." "Hey, wait... Is Eren the person that stole your heart?" "No. No one currently has it." "Okay, good." I beamed at him before he went to the bathroom and I went to Eren who was still playing with my brother on the sofa. I sat down next to Eren and held my plate, taking a snack every now and then. He started to tickle my brother who squirmed on the furniture and his giggles echoed, making me smile. "You look like a family," a voice stated, causing me to look up and meet grey hues. "What, so you're saying I got a kid at thirteen?" "It happens." "Yeah, well, not to me." "But you don't deny that you're a couple?" "Whatever... You know Lucius just asked me out a few minutes ago," I muttered and stared at my plate. Levi's and Eren's head turned towards me. Eren told (B/N) to go back to my parents. "What?" "We were in the kitchen by ourselves. He started going on about how I'm not an ordinary girl and all my characteristics that he likes. He was about to confess, but my mum interrupted him. After I went back to him, he said he likes me and I rejected him in the most gentle way I could. We ended up just joking around and here I am." "I swear, every time you have a serious conversation with someone, it just turns into something casual and funny," Levi said. "Because I'm an amazing person that can bring happiness to people,” I said, causing Levi to roll his eyes. "Wait. So, he agreed to still be friends?" "Yeah. Since I said things about him, like how he's sexy and kind and whatever, he said he's happy that I still think of him like that. Everything's fine." "Good... Did he try to kiss you?" Eren asked. "No." "What are you guys whispering about~?" Hanji beamed and plopped onto the sofa, nearly squishing me. "Lucius asked (Y/N) out. She said no. They're still going to be friends." "You idiot! Why did you say no?" "Hanji, why do you think?" "... Ohh." "What's 'ohh'?" Levi frowned. "Nothing, Shorty!" "Tch." His eyebrow twitched at the nickname. "I already said not to call me that." "But it suits you perfectly." "Fine. I'm going to call you... Four Eyes, then." "They're so childish," I muttered to Eren as they started to argue. I rested my head on Eren's shoulder, letting out a small huff so he looked at me in question. "I'm waiting for my family to leave so we can bring out the alcohol." "Wow," he chuckled. "You know I love them, but I just want to get drunk." "Don't do anything stupid when you do get drunk." "I have no intention of sleeping with anyone." "Yeah, well, don't call me tomorrow afternoon, telling me that you woke up with someone in your bed." ~/~ A splitting headache was the first thing I experienced when I opened my eyes, glad for my blackout curtains that prevented light from coming in. I laid on my back, my body aching when I tried to turn on my side. However, once I did shift onto my side, my eyes widened and I scrambled to get out of bed, realising I was naked. When I went past the mirror in my room to find something to quickly slip on, my eyes somehow widened further at the sight of the hickeys that decorated my chest and neck. "Shit, shit, shit," I whispered, slipping on a t-shirt and some shorts, not caring about wearing any underwear since I was freaking out. I walked over to the side where a particular human being lay and shook them with the call of their name. "Eren! Eren, you fucking jerk, wake up! Eren!" "What?" he grumbled, his eyes still closed. "Open your fucking eyes and get up," I snapped, a scowl dancing over my visage. He did as I said, yawning and rubbing his eyes before sitting up. Once his vision was cleared, he took in his surroundings, saw the marks on my neck, and realised he wasn't wearing a shirt. Piecing it together, he shot me a worried look as I stood in front of him, with my arms crossed over my chest. "Did we...?" he murmured, his eyes walking over the floor to find his shirt, trousers and boxers, along with my clothes. "Oh, fuck..."

[musedblues]

A Taste Of Honey (Part 2)

summary: A 1920's Deacy au! In which the reader, who comes from a family heavily involved in the American temperance movement, meets John, a bootlegger from overseas.

a/n: Well here it is. I'm fully aware interest may be completely lost in this fic but I'm very proud to have finished it. Im not sure where my writing journey will go from here. All I know is that this has been a very long time comin'... enjoy if you dare!

part 1 - 2

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

"If anything happens, Deacy, I'll have your head!"

Ivan shook his fist from the front porch, illuminated by the light flooding from the opened front door. 

"I'll be fine!" You dismissed, skipping toward the car, still getting used to the sway of the heavy golden dress you borrowed from Alice. 

"I'm talking about my car!" Ivan shouted, correcting you. John let out a laugh at the remark, and gave your brother a nod, while he opened the passenger door, nudging you toward it.

Your brother and his wife had loaned the essentials to send you and John away for the party a man you never met was throwing. It was a small thrill, the prospect of such fun to be had, in comparison to the sickening exhilaration that coursed through you at the thought of spending any kind of evening at John's side. And the fact he'd asked you to. 

The ride was quiet and short, but dragged on with each new glance you dared to steal at the man driving. Both of John's hands relaxed on the wheel. A hint of that deadly smile on his lips. 

By the time you got to where you were going, you'd been so preoccupied with thoughts of the man by your side, that you'd nearly forgotten your plans for the evening.

If you had any expectations, they were blown clear away. Before you was an estate made up of too many windows to count, draped in vines and hanging lights. 

Even the crunch of the gravel that decorated the winding path you entered into sounded oddly elegant.

Inside was a fever dream of all the things you'd imagined on your short journey into the threshold. Across a giant winding staircase and below the shimmering chandelier were people from all walks of life, crammed together to have one grand time. Different music came from different corners and wild laughter filled the gaps, if there were any. 

And before you, John led the way. You couldn't recall the moment your hand found the bend of his arm, or if he cared that you'd reached out to him as he weaved through the crowd. But the grin on his face when he turned back to catch your eye had to be a good sign; despite the way your heart nearly burst at his look. 

John led you past hoards of people and trays of half full glasses. There was only one way to go, further inside the home, but John seemed to move as if he had an idea of where he was headed. Sure enough when the pair of you met the landing of the staircase, the host of the party was there to greet you. 

The host's initial booming hello was focused mostly on John. And without more than a glance your way, the party thrower shuffled John away from your side, insistent on sharing a chat with him on the top landing of the stairs.

You were left to linger, stalling at the base of the stairs and studying the crowd around you. Girls in beaded skirts and men with slicked back hair passed you by flashing well meaning but entirely distracted smiles. 

You'd felt mesmerized enough by the scene to slowly start to drift into it yourself. Reaching to brush your finger across meticulously carved bookcases and daring to take a glass from the extended hand of the first person to smile directly at you. 

You reached for the stem of the blue stained flute, and managed to make your talk small enough for the interested lad to wander far off. But offers kept coming. Glasses of this and that shoved in your face. You accepted the offers more out of respectful politeness than any eagerness to lose your wits. 

By the time you lost track of everyone's kind gestures, and a man was leading you closer to a table decorated with cards and chips, another hand intervened.

John was back, letting his fingers curl around your shoulder and nudging you in another direction of his choosing. Thrilling as it was for you, to have been handled just so by him, you were a little taken aback. 

Funny how after the sips of this and that, you felt steady as ever. But one look from John and your knees threatened to give out and all your cares too.

In the middle of the packed house, with John looking at you that way, you felt like the only person alive. And somehow this all added up to equal your new found courage to speak a little bolder than usual.

"Are you on strict orders from Ivan to steer me clear of any strange attention or do you maybe fancy me a little, John?" You dared wonder. You almost didn't care of the answer. So long as he kept guiding you through this evening with a strong steady hand.

"Both." John seemed to decide, continuing to guide you along. The pair of you had reached the patio doors by now, and the cool night breeze rushed through in perfect time to ease the heat that had rushed to your cheeks at John's response. 

"Let's go see the gardens!" You decided at first glance of the sprawling greenery that surrounded the estate. 

John let you tug him along, darting between couples and groups who'd come to ruin the fresh air with all their smoke.

He followed along, a very good sport, smiling as you pointed out flowers and trees you didn't realize could bloom in this part of the country. As you turned from marveling over a certain rose's colour, John seemed almost enraptured. Maybe not by your subject but certainly by some part of you. His gaze was fixed, and he seemed to bite back a wider grin. And your already lightened spirits seemed all the more weightless as your eye's met his. 

"If you keep looking at me like that, John, I'm going to have to kiss you." You let a small laugh escape, as the foreigners' expressions remained steadfast. 

He'd kissed you only the night before, on your brother's staircase. It was the only reason you felt free of regret enough to lean in and brush your lips against his again. John reciprocated fondly, letting one of his hands creep around the bend of your waist. You never realized it was possible to feel so happy. 

"Did you do that because you've been drinking? Or do you perhaps fancy me a little?"  John mocked your earlier statement, when the kiss died and your eyes locked. 

"Both." You smiled, charmed enough to try it a second time. But this kiss was broken much sooner than you reckoned any kiss ought to be.

"You know I'll be leaving soon. Just a week's more time." John killed the mood with a few words. You glanced to your feet and muttered understanding, noticing his hand still clutched your waist. 

"I just don't want to see you disappointed." John spoke up after a beat of heavy silence, and the words seemed hard for him to piece together, but he spoke them all the while. 

"Then don't disappoint me." You shrugged, glancing back up to the perfectly handsome man, who's smile seemed sad now.

"Come on, then." John said, moving his hand to find your own. "Not even I get to enjoy parties like this too often."

And you let him guide you back inside. You let the sun set on all the pretty flowers. And you let yourself feel grateful for the rest of the evening at John's side. 

///

He rode the train home with you the next day, sitting across the bench from you, and not saying very much. 

You felt the need to chatter at the pass of every few minutes. You got John to ramble a little about the other places he was due to visit in the states. The guy only one more stop at some.fancy hotel after your town, in the big city, next week. Then he'd head home. 

After explaining as much, the man went quiet again. But you couldn't let the silence last. It was as if you didn't work to hold his attention, it would be lost the next time you looked up. Maybe that wasn't true. But you couldn't risk letting John slip away so easily. Not when your heart practically lept from your chest each time his eyes met yours. If it wasn't meant to be, then so be it. But you were going to fight for the chance that you had, while it was still within reach. 

So when the train pulled into your neighborhood, and John stepped onto the platform, you stopped him waving goodbye. 

"Will you be back? To our shop, I mean?" 

John took a step closer toward you with a very serious expression that softened just before he spoke. 

"I wouldn't dare leave before telling you goodbye." He promised, in a low, sweet manner. 

John pressed his lips to your temple for one brief heavenly moment. And then he turned away to hail a cab. 

At least now, in your terrible mix of emotions, something very bright and warm burned within you. And you got to believe, for a moment, that the same reigned true for John.

///

But all was not well at home. How could it ever be? 

Your mother was horrified that you'd up and left for the night without so much as a word about it to her, and to your brother's home no less. 

Her disdain for her first born left you sick to your stomach more and more each day. 

But this was nothing new. You knew to give the woman a showy apology and to stay silent as she confined you to the kitchen table as she lectured about morality. Tomorrow things would be back to her regular sort of unhappiness. 

What really stopped you cold in your tracks that night, though, was the sight of your father stood in the doorway of your room with his arms crossed.

To bring a frown to his face was your greatest fear. For he'd loved you and shown it. And you dreamed of doing good by him every chance you got. As you stalled in the hall and waited for him to speak his mind, you hoped this would only be a reprimand for causing your mother unnecessary grief, for her madness made you all ten fold more miserable. 

"I know you've been with your brother..." Your father nodded with understanding, not looking right at you as he spoke calmly. "But that also means you've been with John. And I don't like that."

Oh. Ivan had warned you this might be your fathers mood. But you'd ignored his warning in hopes it wouldn't have been true. 

"You know John!" You countered, "You work with him! You're telling me you get to work with a man you don't like but I can't see him?"

"He's a fine man. But all wrong for you." 

"You're supposed to be the one who lets me find these things out on my own." You reminded. Your mother did plenty of directing you from day to day. Your father knew of what you spoke and nodded reluctantly, uncrossing his arms and looking you square in the eye. 

"Well not this time. Stay away from John, you hear me? He'll be gone before you know it anyhow." 

Your father rested a hand on your shoulder, giving you a reassuring squeeze as if to ease the blow of his demands. But as he walked back down the hall, the uncertainty that had stormed within you since John left you at the train station, raged wilder than before. 

What a jam... 

///

There was nothing stopping you from returning back to the depths of the coffee shop, the next time Ivan started up his business. 

Your mother was sound asleep, and your father was already there, serving the last of the coffee up top. Once you arrived you knew he'd be cross but unable to march you away. 

So you slipped on your finest dress and twirled down the rickety staircase that led to the party your brother charged for. 

There were already a good deal of friends jam packed into the small basement; dancing to swells coming from the gramophone and lining up to grab a glass from Ivan's makeshift bar. Your brother flashed a grin when he saw you sauntering in, but his smile turned somewhat more into a worried grimace when he saw you march up the man near the end of those overturned book shelves.

So was everyone concerned over your connection with John? Even the man who'd held your interest sort of frowned at the sight of you demanding his attention. 

John had his fingers curled around a glass. You took it from his grasp and the action made the bootlegger grin oh so slightly. But his frown returned after you slammed back the swallow of liquor in his glass- unsure yourself by what had come over you.

"Hey, come on, don't be that girl." Ivan called to you from behind the bar. You couldn't be sure if he was commenting on the way you'd claimed Deacy's drink for your own, or on the way you seemed too eager to get the stuff in your system. 

Before you could snap back at your brother's comment, though, John spoke up.

"Don't worry about it," He insisted in the charming draw of his. "Just pour me another." And as the man who you adored stepped past you to hold your brothers attention, John sort of let his hand brush across your waist. And he left his fingers to linger along your sides as Ivan, disgruntled, poured another for John. 

"Is that all you cut in line for?" Ivan sighed, nodding toward the few people, impatiently waiting to fill their glasses, stood in a row behind John. 

And you hadn't really considered this before your brothers prompting. But at his asking, you were moved to pull out a twenty dollar bill from your coin purse, and demand he give you your money's worth.

Ivan was reluctant, going on for a bit how once your father spotted you here, like this, that he'd surely be disappointed. And you didn't want that, did you? But little did Ivan know, you'd already disappointed your father. And you were determined to get something you wanted tonight, one way or another.

So with a sigh, Ivan poured you a tall drink and informed you were good to come back for a few more, to match your payment. 

So began your evening of ignoring John's worried remarks about slowing down. And as you kept the drinks coming you weren't even sure why. Perhaps it was to test your very own limits. To somehow prove you were more in control of your path than all the others who seemed to have something to say about the direction of your life. 

And damn John, for the way he kept his eyes locked on yours between the distance he silently kept insisting upon. And damn him for helping you find your balance, despite the steps he kept taking away from you. For letting his hands stay secure around your waist, long after you'd straightened up from stumbling.

And damn your father. He had to have been behind John's change in attitude. From the moment you'd met, John had been a flirt. And steadily, his quips kept getting bolder, until the last party you attended. Ivan's rambling about your fathers dislike of your fondness of John had to be what caused him to step back.

And damn your father, for finding you all dizzy in John's well meaning clutch, now. Your dad pointed to the door and demanded you find your way out of this scene. 

"I know you're not taking her back to your hole in the wall you've been staying at, in the state she's in." You father grumbled in a low curse, his eyes searing into John's. You tightened your hold on the fellow, shooting your father a glare all the same. He couldn't tell you where to go or with who. 

"Take her upstairs if ya like. But don't step foot past the alley. I'll be up in a minute."

After a shared look, John moved, pulling you alongside him. You moved,  happily leaning into him, disgruntled by the course of the evening all the while. Even Ivan seemed to shoot you a sorry grin when he noticed you being marched away, from across the room.

The alley was a little cold. But John's figure was warm. And as you followed his lead pausing just beyond the backdoor, you could feel this chance waiting to slip away. 

"You like me, don't you?" You wondered, turning to face the man you'd been so taken with since the moment he showed up at your door.

"Of course." John nodded, and answered so softly and with such care truly felt as though it were melting. 

"Then kiss me, John." 

"You're drunk."

"But we may never get the chance again. One or both of us are about to be beheaded. Either way, that'll make kissing hard to do from now on." You implored, letting your head fall to rest precariously on his shoulder as you finished your plea. You heard John let out a somber little chuckle as he dared to tighten his arm around you. 

And then you heard a shuffle beyond the backdoor, and let out a sigh at the timing of your father coming to ruin everything. 

But instead, the door bursts open to reveal Rita in a fluster. Her usually perfect makeup streaking down her cheeks. At the sight of the girl you'd always admired, a pang shot through your chest. But not immediately for her upset, whatever it was, but because you realized you'd failed to see your friend here all night, until now.

Before you could apologize, or ask what the matter was, Rita sucked in a breath and let out a string of words for you. 

"He was a snitch. He-he told my parents everything." She stammered, wild eye'd. 

"Who?" You begged to know, having turned away from John, but not having totally turned your attention away from his hand still rested on the small of your back. 

"The pastor's son. Cole. He- he said he was alright with this whole thing. But he... He told your mother. She's on her way here, she's-" 

Sound of a car roared closer, and the engine died away, drowning out the last of Rita's warning. For a second, you thought of making a break for it. But then the click of heels on the pavement seemed to count down your fate.

And then she stood there before you. Your mother, dressed to the nines, complete with her usual scowl.

You couldn't let go of John. Your nails seemed to dig into his side on their own accord. The pair of you stared ahead to the woman who gave you life, and kept you from living it all the same. She stood and stared too, almost like she was giving you a chance. And that was the scariest bit of it all. 

As time seemed to pause, John let your name escape him in a nervous breath, like a warning. Trying to alert you that your hanging off him wouldn't help. But there was no way you were gonna let him go now. 

It was then your mother decidedly sauntered up to the two of you, letting her eyes search your from the top of your head to the tips of your toes and back up again. 

When she let out a scof, you realized you'd been holding your own breath. And when you opened your mouth, willing oxygen in, or words of mitigation out, your mother decided what was next. 

Before you could blink, one of her strong hands was digging into your arm, and she was tearing you away from John's gentle hold.

And despite his caution earlier, you could feel John's hand still trying to keep hold of you, as you were yanked away. The sensation of being taken from the man's clutch was horrid, but what was more painful was the feeling of his fingers trying and failing to keep hold.

So when your mother tossed you aside, toward the brick of the coffee house wall, you were hardly affected; not like you'd only just been.

And when you looked up, after steadying yourself and dusting your stone imprinted hands of dust, John was stepping closer toward your mother. He shouted something at her, about how she didn't have the right to treat you just so. But before he could finish defending you, he was shut down.

Your mothers hand flew across his cheek, and the sound of the slap and John's shocked hiss echoed through the alley and caused something vile to rise in your gut. 

You pushed yourself from the wall then, indifferent to the dizziness you felt, desperate to reach out to the man you'd been so fond of; calling his name.

But your mother was there, more sober and more angry. And she halted your mission to make it to your man, digging her nails into your sides and forcing you in the other direction. 

"John I'm sorry, John..." You called past the lump in your throat. That was when Ivan came upon the scene. He darted from the doorway and did his damnedest to block your mothers storming off. 

"You're a monster. Let her go!" Your brother fummed, as your mother managed to storm around her first born, pushing you along. 

"I'm her mother. And I'll do as I see fit to keep my child out of harm's way." Your mother stated, almost calmly.

"You're no mother. You're a walking nightmare. She's not your plaything-"

"Word's won't fix this, Ivan." You said, reminding him that his defying of the woman only ever made her ten times more evil.

"I'll pray for your children, son." Your mother nodded, opening the passenger door of her car, and flinging you toward the bench. "They're going to need it."

You didn't look to Ivan, as your mother drove off. You didn't dare look to John. You only hung your head and cried silent tears while your mother peeled down the road. And the whole way home, she spat vile things about you and Ivan. Her own children. About your father, her beloved husband. And aout John, a man who, since his arrival, had only tried to help out.

You let your tears dry when the car pulled up to the house you'd never really felt at home in. And went willingly from the ride to the door, knowing you would get very far in the countryside if you dashed away now. You'd need a wiser plan. Still, your mother dug her claws into your arm and marched you up the staircase to your room, like you were a girl no oler to know better. 

"Stay here." She demanded after pushing your further into your bedroom, her fist around the doorknob, establishing total control. 

You expected to be banished here. What you didn't expect, however, was the return of your mother with boards to nail against your windows. You might've laughed if you weren't the one being all locked up. Wasn't this sort of thing only supposed to happen in twisted fairy tales? You're life was twisted enough, you supposed.

She left you there, trapped in the space that was meant to be your own, meant to be safe. As you sulked in silence, the memory of your mothers assault on John haunted you. The horrid sound her action resulted in. His gut wrenching reaction, the small hiss, his stalling in the place she put him in. 

And the way he watched you being dragged off, helpless and sorry for you. It was pathetic, the situation you found yourself in. So you let your tears bubble up again and you cried and cried; until exhaustion set in. Tomorrow was a new day....

///

There was a pounding at your door, loud enough to jolt you from slumber.

"Open up!" The sound of your father calling from beyond the hall stirred you fully conscious. In one swift dash you were stood before your door, jiggling the handle, feeling silly for hoping that would work. 

"She's locked it." You groaned. "Do you have a key?" Your wonder was nearly frantic, and so were you- trying still to twist the knob. At the sound of your fathers grumbled cursing, you began to bustle about for some hair pins, but quickly realized you wouldn'tve had a clue to how to finess the tools into working like another. 

Then you heard your mother. She  shouted down the hall, telling your father to get out of her sight, to leave you be. Shouting that you were better off confined. That you'd be locked away until she found the right reformatory to ship you off to. You knew she meant it. You knew she'd send you away without a care of your consent. 

"She's not a child anymore. You can't just treat her like a bad pet who needs training."

"I'm her mother. And I'll be damned if I don't do what's best for my child. I failed the first time. God knows you never cared about either of them like I care." Your mother spat, breaking your heart and your fathers too no doubt. 

Their bickering lasted a while longer, and you spun away from listening in to force yourself to think. There had to be a way out of here, out of this life. There had to be a way to a better world. 

And the best you could do was wait.  Until dinner. Wait until your mother brought you a tray of soup and bread, trading a few put downs before she twirled from your room. And then you checked the time, and counted down the hours to her always predictable nightly routine.

And you waited still, until your bedside clock ticked well passed after midnight.

And then you used a lamp to pry the nails away from windows. You could tell her bedroom light was out by leaning against the sill.

With no time to spare, you tossed a change of clothes in your purse, and the envelope stashed with tips you'd been saving for over a year. 

It wasn't a very long way down. With the help of a lattice panel and the dark of night, you found grassy freedom in no time. Your heart beat heavy as you crept toward the road. It wouldn't be safe, not until the city lights were in view. But your shoes were flat and your hopes were high.

Miraculously, no one stopped you. Not the truck who zoomed by somewhere still deep along the dark country road. Not the school kids on the edge of town, tossing bottles off the bridge. And not the sleepy clerk at the desk of the hotel you raced into. 

"Be here, be here, be here..." You prayed under your breath, hurrying to the room you remembered John booking. And right as you rounded the hall, the door of the room you'd been in search of opened. 

But the squeak of wheels gave away the presence of a maid, pushing her cart of cleaning supplies out into the hall.

"He's gone?" You sighed, stopping at the end of the hall, your feet aching after moving so ceaselessly through the night. 

"Whoever was here left a while ago." The maid stopped for a moment, looking to you with a sorry expression. "Around dinner time."

"Right. Is there a phone at the desk?" 

The maid nodded and wished you luck, and you thanked her for it. You'd need as much as you could get. 

The clerk who was still kicked back, sleeping, startled at your ringing the bell on the desk. And though they didn't seem pleased at your begging to use the phone, they let you.

It only rang twice. 

"Hello?" Your fathers voice was a pleasant surprise. Of course he'd gone to stay with Ivan, in the midst of all this chaos. 

"Dad, Im-"

"Where are you? Does she know you've gone? I'll come fetch you."

"No." You implored, holding up a hand as if he could have seen your insistence.  "No I've phoned to let you know I'm taking the train to the city. I've got to find John before he leaves. And I'm sure of where he is. I've got to try." 

John had told you where he was headed next, on your last train ride together. And you'd felt silly for keeping the details at the front of your memory... until now.

The other line went quiet for a beat. And you'd fully prepared yourself for your fathers disapproval. But then he just said,

"Okay." Your father seemed to realize the weight of your feelings, you thought, by his tone of voice. "I knew you'd get out of there, eventually." And once more, you could tell by his tone he wasn't just referring to the room you'd been locked in for the last couple nights. "Phone us again, when you're safe and sound. I know you will be."

At his blessing, tears sprung in your eyes. You were going to go no matter what. But to have your father on your side made you even more determined to fly out of this hotel, and to the next one you knew John was meant to be staying at. 

///

Booking a train ticket was nearly impossible. And if you had spent much longer pleading with the station, you would have missed the bus pulling up down the block, offering rides in the right direction. 

The couple hour journey was maddening, and thrilling, and terrifying all at once. You were on your way to change your life. No matter what John said, or how he greeted you; no matter if he fell into your embrace or left you in the hotel lobby, you'd never go back the way you'd come from. 

And luckily, you managed to find the hotel John had briefly spoken of, without much trouble. It was the grandest of the business booming on this side of the city. Folks flooded in and out of the revolving doors, as you considered the past set of days that had led you to standing before here with such an erratic heartbeat.

But you only stayed paused for a moment. Your feet were darting inside before your mind caught up with how close you were to the mission at hand. 

The lobby was just as full of people as the revolving doors had been, lines forming near the desk, groups fighting to fit their luggage into golden elevators. 

And though you hated to be the person you'd decided to be, you dashed to the end of the front desk, hoping the clerk would spare you a minute at most. 

"I just need to know if someone's booked a room." You begged to know, shooting sorry looks to the people you'd cut in front of. The clerk seemed to have no patients for you, but miraculously, another set of hands swooped in to help. Some nice older woman flipped through the bookings to find John's name, after you gave it, and came up short.

"What about Deacy?" You hoped all of a sudden, quickly beginning to lose your ambition the longer she shook her head.

You'd done what you could, rudely so. And scurried away so your unwelcome presence would no longer be in the way of things.

And as you sauntered away, giving one last pathetic glance about the crowded lobby, you reminded yourself that it was all alright. You might not have found John. But you were finally free.

And then you pushed through the revolving door. And past your ghostly reflection, you spotted a familiar set of grey eyes. 

John seemed to wait until your gaze registered his own, before spinning around to make it indoors. You ignored the chilly night air and pushed on until you were right back where you'd just started to leave from. 

There he was, before you as real and sure as the sun and moon.

"You never gave me a proper goodbye." You reprimanded through a growing smile. He'd promised to give you a farewell, once. 

"How about a rain check? I've got lot's more important things to tell you, as a matter of fact." The man you'd come to adore smiled then, and offered his arm. You held on without hesitation and managed to follow his lead through the crowd, to the room he'd been staying in.

It was a humble little space, his suitcase opened on the coffee table and a yellow lamp left on by the window. John shut the door behind you with a soft click, loosening the pale blue tie round his neck, as you glanced about the room.

"I came by. Your place, I mean." John admitted, leaning against the closed door, as you turned from admiring the wall art to face him.

"You did?"

And then John said your father had dragged the Brit along, that night he'd knocked at your door. John was outside with high hopes. But your mother had caught your father before you'd even known there was a plan. 

"So you did try to come and tell me goodbye." You laughed a little, kind of glad he wasn't able to. This reality where you'd run to him was much more befitting to the situation, you thought. 

"Well, no." John pointed, not laughing along with you. "I never really wanted to say goodbye."

You stood there, taking in the sight of him. Watching John's brows oh so slightly furrow upward, hope pouring from his expression. You considered the gleam in his eye and the way he slowly seemed to shift his posture a little closer to you. 

"So we haven't got to part ways in a hurry then?" You wondered. Asking more than if you could linger a while longer in his rented room.

John seemed to know what you were asking. He seemed relieved, too. His shoulders loosened as the man crossed the space between you, in no big hurry. It seemed the two of you had all the time in the world at your disposal, now. John took his time, reaching out to tuck away some loose hairs near your ear. And his smile grew steadily too. By the time the guy pressed a kiss to your lips, you'd been wondering if the dawn would be breaking any time soon.

But the longer John went on kissing you, the less you thought of the sunrise. As John enclosed you in his arms, all your thoughts were of the man you'd come to adore. 

And as laid next to him and closed your eyes to the rising sun, you couldn't recall ever having experienced such a bright morning. 

"So you're not too eager to head back home, yeah?" John asked, once you'd both stirred from a restful slumber.

"I think I found a much more suitable place to be." You smiled, referring to the spot you'd settled under John's arm. 

And it didn't take much convincing on his end for you to agree on catching the next boat across the pond. 

///

The other line rang so long you'd almost decided to hang up. Then your brother answered. 

"Helllooooo!" He sang in a chipper timbre, making you wonder if he'd been expecting you at exactly this time, or if he answered everyone that way.

"Well I was going to ask how you were but it seems you're so well I don't have to wonder." You laughed into the receiver. 

The morning was early, and a breeze blew back a sheer curtain, obscuring your view of the grey English morning. 

Ivan spent the next few minutes yaking about how glad he was to hear from you. And you were glad to listen. On your rather spontaneous journey overseas, you were bogged down for a brief moment, at the thought of being so far from your dear brother. But as he rambled in your ear now, you'd never felt closer to him.

Ivan asked how things were. He asked after John, and that mattered so much more to you than his concerns for your well being. And when you had had your fill of the attention being on you, you begged your brother to give you all the details of what happened after you ditched home.

He said your mother was as furious as expected. Said she tried to blame your brother and her husband for your running off. Said she tried to get the police to shut down the coffee house for hosting such an undignified business after hours.

"You should'a seen her face when she found out officer Willard was our most loyal customer." Ivan chuckled. 

"We did have to pay a fine, in the end, so she'd quit her raving. It was almost everything we'd saved away for the baby." 

Your brother sighed. And you cooed his name in commiseration. 

"But my friend who owns that estate, the one who threw that party John took you to," Ivan explained. "He was good enough to loan us a bit of cash to stash away." Your brother said the man tried to give the money away outright, as a thank you to Ivan for helping start up his own speakeasy of sorts. But Ivan was dead set on paying him back, one day.

"Now we can't decide to name the babe after him, or John." Ivan chuckled. 

"And what if it's a girl?" You mused. 

"That'll just have to be a surprise." Ivan said, and just then the line went dead. You called your brother's name with a little hope he'd come back to tell you more. 

But you didn't worry when the line went on buzzing. You'd see him and his darling wife and his child to be, one day. You'd see your father too, if he was still hiding out at your brothers place. Hell, maybe they'd all come over here. 

Maybe you'd build a life with John, in his humble little English flat. You certain felt at home, watching the guy of your fancy stay dreaming as the sun rose. 

John had been kind to you. He'd been your friend when he didn't have to be. He'd let you lean into him, and he laughed at your jokes. He invited you into his world and smiled wide the closer your ship rolled toward London. 

And he'd treated your shoes as if they'd always been stored in the middle of the welcome mat. John opened his space up to you, and asked every night for the first few weeks, if you were happy, if you needed anything more. Your answers were always yes and no. 

And he didn't need to ask for honey in his coffee anymore. You just knew to add a little in the warm cup you'd have ready near the place he liked to sit in the morning. 

It was familiar and it was sweet, and so was John. Maybe he liked honey in his tea, too. And dear God, how you prayed every year from here on out; got to be spent guessing at life alongside the man who'd thrilled you by wondering all your answers all along.

[quirkdotcom]

The Arrangement //

Shoto Todoroki x Fem! Reader

Part One: The Mall Incident

Part Two

Summary: Your father is a particularly strong pro hero, and owns his own agency, however, he seemingly has picked an opportunity for you to be the tie between his agency, and pro hero Endeavor's agency.

Authors Note:

One; I'm planning this to be a three part fic, my next update hopefully on Friday May 15th ! Let me know if you'd like to be on this specific taglist, or even a taglist for anything I post !

Two; I wanted to have a little fun in this, so I added in an OC of mine! I made the reader attend an unnamed school, where her friends wouldn't be main characters from MHA, and decided to throw in Maiko (my OC) anyways, I hope you enjoy !

"A student from UA? Is father okay? I thought he hated that school?" You had to stop yourself, had you really heard your mother right?

She sighed heavily, shaking her head slightly, "He does, however, your father is willing to look past the fact as long as everything goes according to plan" 

This time, it was your turn to sigh.

This 'plan' was one of you meeting some student, your parents meeting, and at the end of the day, agreeing to a marriage after graduation.

You knew that you really had no choice in the matter, which is why you had never put up a fight about it, but it didn't mean that you were particularly happy about it.

Quietly, you stood up, excusing yourself from the table and your mother, leaving the dainty tea cup where it sat.

"Well, since the meeting with this student will be this weekend, I'm going to go out and buy an outfit for it." You bowed your head slightly before turning and leaving the room.

Now out of sight of your mother, you stretched, stifling a yawn as you made your way to your room, grabbing your phone from your pocket, sending a quick message to your closest friend, asking if she'd accompany you to the mall.

The two of you attended a private academy focused on teaching it's students to not only strengthen their quirks, or accelerate their academics, but also in etiquette and manners. Everything was about being proper and elite.

It was the very same school that your father had transferred to after his time at UA.

You personally didn't quite like it there, at times some students tried to pick on you, or the teachers would reprimand you for even the slightest mistake.

But, just like the marriage arrangement, you had no choice in what school you attended, your father was hellbent on you following his steps, and staying the hell away from UA.

Regardless, you had eventually made some friends, and for the first few years, you scored in the top of your class.

"Oh, (Y/n) while you're out, would you mind picking up a few things for me?" Your mother's voice rang out from behind your door, breaking your train of thoughts.

"Just make me a list, and leave it on the counter!" 

It didn't take long for you to change out of your uniform and into something comfier, or for you to grab your messenger style purse, or to find the list from your mother. With your father gone, there were no distractions or unnecessary lectures.

What took the most time was getting to the mall. You could have driven, but it was nice out, the sky was clear of clouds, and there was a light breeze that flowed through the leaves in the trees.

So, you took to walking. Though, when you got to the mall, your best friend was standing with her arms crossed and a bored look on her face.

"(Y/N)! There you are! I've been waiting for hours!" She gave a dramatic sigh as you walked over.

"Calm down Maiko ! " you chuckled, she was almost always over dramatic, something that had drawn you to her in the first place.

She gave you a playful wink, and nodded her head to the doors, starting to walk inside, "Whatever, we both know that I can't calm down," she paused, giving small jazz hands, "I've got constant anxiety" 

"Ah, the curse of having a third eye quirk," You followed behind, then moved to the side of her. 

"Oh! What's the occasion for today's trip?" Maiko tucked a piece of light brown hair behind her ear, eyeing you as she waited for a response.

You hesitated, she still didn't know about the whole arranged marriage, and it had been about a month since you had found out.

"Oh...my family and I are meeting another family for some business thing, so I needed to get a new outfit in case they have a son or daughter our age, " You spouted off a lie, knowing that she'd fall for it, only because she trusted you.

"Ooooh another potential merger for your dad's hero agency?" 

You nodded, pausing as your stomach gave a quiet rumble. 

Despite the lunch you were having with your mother earlier, you didn't really eat. 

"Hey, let's get something to eat first," You point to the nearest food outlet.

Before you know it, Maiko and you are each tossing fries to the other, both failing to catch most in your mouth, but you are having a good time regardless.

Once out of fries, you and her are left with your milkshakes, hers chocolate, and your's strawberry. Something kind of impulsive as you haven't had one strawberry flavored in a few years.

"Hey, I think we could probably take these with us to go look for an outfit," Maiko picks hers up, already a third of it gone.

With a nod, you stand up, grabbing your shake and bag, waiting for Maiko before heading off to your favorite store.

"Hey what about this?" She held up a pleated, light blue skirt, it would stop just above your knees, and complimented you very well, "It even has real pockets!"

"And I could wear it with this shirt...and maybe the jean jacket we found earlier?" You smiled happily, holding up a plain white t-shirt, a small v neck cut, nothing too extreme but not too plain.

Your friend placed the skirt into your basket, and you followed suit with the shirt. All that was needed now, would be to grab the jean jacket from earlier.

However, as you turned, you ran into a...hard surface and along with you, came your half finished milkshake.

You stumbled back, eyes wide as you realized what had just happened.

"Oh my gosh, I am so-"

But the male cut you off, his voice monotone as he did, "Save it, just move out of the way, I need to clean my shirt," 

You quietly moved to the side, watching as the moody stranger walked away, leaving you and Maiko to recover.

He had red hair...well only half of his hair was red, and the other half was white, leaving you to wonder how much hair dye it had taken to get it to look so perfect. 

"Well...I wish I could've helped you see that coming...but uh..I got the jacket?" She smiled sheepishly, causing you to let out a nervous laugh, releasing the tension you didn't know you had.

"Okay, cmon lets go pay!" You turned, still reeling from the encounter with that guy..but hey, at least you wouldn't be seeing him again! 

So, with that thought in mind, Maiko and yourself brought your chosen outfit to the front counters, paid and left the store.

"Hey, are you doing anything tonight?" You turned to Maiko after some five minutes, a thought in the back of your mind, nagging at you since you had left the house to meet her. 

"I don't think so! Why, is your mom cooking tonight? Anything she makes is always better than your dads...or yours," she poked her tongue out at you.

"Wha?! Hey! Im not that bad of a cook!" You pouted and crossed your arms, turning away from her, "Well I did have something to tell you but now its not happening," 

She immediately moved in front of you, "Wait no! Your cooking is good! Just tell me the news!" 

"It'll have to wait for my house, it's kind of big news…"

And with that, the two of you set off for your house, Maiko calling her mom and letting her know where she'd be for the night. 

The walk was spent talking about anything and everything, and at one point Maiko tripping and you having to catch her, but hey, that's what friends are for. 

As you approached your house, you spotted your fathers car in the driveway, causing you to screw your face up in dread. 

Hopefully he didn't have a lecture for you, especially if Maiko was here. You had always hated how he seemed to pick on you whenever your friends were over.

And much to your dismay, when you walked inside he met you with a sour look, "(Y/n), where have you been? Don't forget about this weekend's meeting, not to mention the exams coming up," 

You bit back a response about how the exams were two months away, and instead just nodded your head, busying yourself with slipping your shoes off, "I was buying a new outfit for our meeting. I told mother before I left."

He paused, now eyeing you and Maiko, "And came home with...Fujino was it?" 

She nodded, even though she practically lived at your house for a week at a time due to the amount of sleep overs you had, your father had barely bothered to remember her name. 

"Im sorry for not telling you ahead of time, Sir." She bowed her head slightly, only really apologizing because she knew that if she didn't, it would come down on you. 

"Make your way to (Y/n)'s room, I still need to have a few words with her," he commanded, waiting for her to go up the stairs before he continued.

"And (Y/n), do not forget how important this marriage arrangement is. The Todoroki family is powerful, Endeavor is rising in his ranks as a hero, and his son will follow suit. You have to make sure that you are seen as exemplary, no mistakes can be made. Do you understand?" 

You paused, heart hanging heavy, "Yes father…" 

Once he let you go, you made your way to the top of the stairs, seeing that Maiko was waiting for you, a worried look in her eyes, "So...a marriage proposal?" 

"Welcome to the news I had for you…" 

You two moved into your room, the bag of clothes dropped onto the floor, and you climbed onto your bed, grabbing an orange bunny plush, hugging it to your chest.

"Okay so I wanted to tell you about the arrangement but...I dunno, its hard. I'm having my choice taken away from me and for what? So my father and this other hero to have a more powerful agency?" 

"(Y/n)...im so sorry that you've been going through this alone. I'm here for you, whatever you need!" She moved to a swinging chair you had, sitting in it carefully as she thought for a moment, "So, you've never met this guy or his family?" 

"At most I know his family name. But Im too busy focusing on school work to pay attention to how his father is "So high up the ranks" or whatever. Its like my father thinks that this 'Endeavor' guy is the number two pro hero or something…" You puffed out a breath of air, pursing your lips as you thought quietly. 

Maiko stared at you for a few minutes, blinking a few times as she tried to break the news to you. 

"Uhh..Endeavor...as in Enji Todoroki?" 

You looked up, nodding quietly at her puzzled look. 

"(Y/n) he is the number two hero...or wait..if All Might retired a few years back... then number one actually!" She hummed as she herself started to think but eventually shook her head, eyes widening. 

Maiko quickly pulled out her phone, typing hurriedly into it and gasping, "(Y/n) wait! His son goes to UA! His son is reportedly one of the Big Three of his class!" She stopped, scrolling, "uh oh…" 

At this, you scrambled from your spot to her, pulling the phone from her hand to look at what the cause of this 'uh oh' was. 

It was a picture.  A picture of Endeavour's son. He had red and white hair, and a glare so deadly it probably would kill someone on sight. 

But what got you more was the fact that this was the guy from the mall earlier.  You had totally spilled a strawberry shake all over the number one hero's son, and the guy who you would be marrying after graduation. 

"This is...this is fucked. Im so screwed! Not only did I embarrass myself but now I've probably made it seem like im a clumsy girl who likes to shop all the time and now this...Todoroki guy is going to tell his father about me and then it'll ruin the arrangement and my father will kill me." You spouted off more worries until Maiko grabbed your shoulders, shaking you lightly.

"Hey! We aren't planning your funeral yet! Maybe we can meet up with him before you have to meet with his dad! I think I know one of the students at UA!" 

You looked to her, your breathing returning to normal as you nodded along, maybe that could work after all.

"Okay so, we ask whoever you know to get his number and text him about how it was me who spilled the drink and I wanted to apologize...and that Im also the girl he's meeting this weekend!" 

Maiko punched her fist into the palm of her hand, "Okay, lets set this plan into action! I'll text Kirishima!" 

You eyed her, realizing that you had never questioned how she knew anyone at UA, "While you do that, mind explaining to me about whoever this Kirishima is?" 

She only smiled for a moment, putting her phone down after sending him a message about Todoroki, "Oh! He and I work in the same coffee shop! Not everyone is super rich you know, but he's pretty nice guy, kinda cute too. But, you know how my mom is. Im surprised that she let me be friends with you, I swear, she's scared of anyone!" 

You gave a 'Mhhm' to her, knowing full and well that this was the coworker who she tended to talk about but never named, knowing that you'd probably show up to her work to try and get more information.  But hey, you'd leave it at that for now. 

"Well...I guess that now we wait for Kirishima to hopefully send us Todoroki's number?' 

"Now we wait! And with our good luck, by Wednesday we can smoothen out what happened at the mall…" 

You nodded once, as much as this plan seemed rickety, you were willing to take the chance. While you hated the idea of a marriage to whoever this young hero may be, you know that if you messed it up, your father would never let you live it down. 

[noir0neko]

Crime and Creation | m

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 15.5k

Summary: The Crow Club. One of the University of Ketterdam’s secret societies aimed at recruiting the finest students who want a taste of more than just lectures. Meet Kaz, the founder and president, whose self-made millions come from his dealings on Wall Street. Nina, a girl who is aching for more than the fortune and husband her family has laid out for her. Inej, whose observant nature and ability to be invisible makes her the perfect spy. Jesper, a childhood friend of Kaz’s who can’t resist getting into a little trouble joined by his boyfriend, Wylan, son of the University dean. And Cataleya, an Upper West side journalism major who has a special way with words. When Kaz finds out the Crow Club’s dealings have been infiltrated by an unknown rival, his crew enlists the help of outsiders to ruin reputations, throw lavish parties, and do what the New York City Crows do best: heist. Until something goes very wrong. 

Characters: Cataleya (OC), Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa, Jesper Fahey, Wylan Van Eck, Nina Zenik, Alina Starkov, Zoya Nazyalensky, Nikolai Lantsov, Aleksander Morosova and honorable Leoni mention.

Warnings: Death. Highly detailed emotion and inner thoughts that have memories of parental abuse and self harm, nothing very detailed. Mentions of murder, drugs, and illegal activity. General debauchery and scheming. Some romance, mostly implied, light kissing, fondling, and the use of expletives.

A/N: You do not need to have read any of the books in this world to understand this fic! I spent so much time and poured my heart and soul into this story and the development of my original character and building these characters into a new, modern world. Please read it and give me your thoughts! This piece was written for the @grishaversebigbang. Also, check out the art work made for my fic by these amazing artists: @corpsecro, @nantosuelta-art, @discountscoobygang, @lady-ekatherina-de-mika and @mikanviola! It is such an honor to be a part of something like this and I had so much fun! I encourage anyone and everyone to read the Six of Crows/Shadow and Bone series by Leigh Bardugo! It’ll be on Netflix soon!

I used to love cats. 

Until one showed up dead on my window sill. 

I’m still not sure how it got there. Perhaps it climbed the fire escape and lept from the metal railing onto the ledge. But once the animal had the orange pollen and poisonous petals of the lilies sticking out of my window in its mouth, it was only a matter of time before it died. I had the good sense to keep my crying quiet, at eleven years old, so that my father would not stumble in to yell or push the cat hundreds of feet to the street below. I did not know he was already gone. That I was alone.

I hid the orange tabby in my backpack and went to bury her in the backyard garden the next chance I got. 

But when I used my small children’s shovel to dig into the earth, soft from the recent rain, it wasn’t what I went to bury that changed my life. But what was already buried there. And right then, with my cheeks stained with tears and hands shaking with anger, I swore to never stop hunting. To never stop chasing the people who ruined me. 

That was one promise I kept. 

I haven’t kept many others. 

Sitting in the foyer with the rest of the Crows, wind coming in from the autumn afternoon and the scent of freshly made waffles mixing with dusty books, I don’t know if I can keep this one either. Kaz looks at me pointedly, waiting for me to answer. I glance at all of them, Nina, Inej, Jesper, and Wylan. It is rare that anyone outright refuses Kaz on anything, especially not with his position or to risk the weight of his disapproval. Nina once told Kaz to go to Hell and she paid for it with two weeks of silence and banishment from the Crow Library until she relented to do her assignment. 

Jesper clears his throat, trying to relieve the awkward vibe getting thicker with each passing moment of silence. I can’t help but allow a small smile to reach my lips, grateful for him trying to save me from the tension that I could slice with a knife. Swallowing and meeting Kaz’s dark eyes, I sigh. 

“Fine,” I relent. “I’m in.” 

The strain dissolves from the space and the other Crows break into smiles and start to chatter. Relaxing back in my chair, I watch Inej spring up and take her place next to Kaz, her lithe frame complimenting his perfectly. Kaz moves around his large oak desk, gaze fixated on something in the distance. Definitely scheming face. Best to wait it out until he speaks first.

The Crow Library is lit with the afternoon sunlight, warming the leather of our chairs and illuminating the dust gathering along the rows of books. Shelves line the walls beneath the window, behind Kaz’s study area, and underneath the stairwell, which leads to an upstairs reading room and parlor area. Nobody has bothered to read any of the books, weathered and dusted with age, but they lend the room an air of sophistication and a homey comforting smell. Kaz’s desk is littered with papers, the dark wood barely visible beneath the jumble of stock investment deals, new heists, and class assignments waiting to be done. On the front face of the desk, a large crow is carved into the surface, black and red paint covering the indentations in the wood. 

Inej puts a tender hand on Kaz’s forearm, her lips moving quickly and silently, as if whispering to him. Inej has her hair down today, an unusual occurrence from her braided coil, and the dark strands spill like silky oil over her shoulders and her waist. She must have come from the studio, sweat still gleaming on her brow and black leotard disappearing beneath dark navy leggings. Her lithe frame seems to be floating, always so modest and reserved, yet her brown eyes are intuitive and unrelenting as she studies Kaz. She has been with him since the founding of the Crow Club, never missing a beat between helping him, chastising him, watching out for him, and caring for herself all the same. It’s no wonder she’s been able to double major in both Global History and Ballet, two completely different worlds, but complimenting each other perfectly for Inej. 

And Kaz. What an interesting man he’s proven to be. 

Business major. Self made millionaire. First student to be admitted into the University of Ketterdam - UOK for short, without a full high school education. A man full of mysteries. 

Jesper moves to perch himself on the arm of Wylan’s chair and adjusts his Queen shirt, the old black leather groaning under his weight. Jesper says something quietly to his boyfriend before running a hand through Wylan’s curly red hair and kissing his pale pert nose. Jesper has his hair buzzed short to his scalp, dark arms lean with muscle and legs long, his jeans riding up at the ankles to reveal bright yellow socks and black high tops. Wylan releases a wide smile, looking up at Jesper with untamed admiration. Wylan has on a pair of pressed dark wash jeans, his collared shirt maroon red with small white dots, accentuating his bright hair and pale skin. 

It just reminds me of blood. 

They are quite a pair. Wylan, being the son of the University dean and Jesper, one of the most intelligent and talented students in the Economics department. He is studying Game Theory, an extremely intense and complicated subject full of strategy, confidence, and risk: coincidentally Jesper’s three favorite words. 

Wylan, much to his father’s chagrin, is an Art History student with a hidden passion for chemistry and physics. I often find him gazing at the long since forgotten portraits on the walls of the Crow Library upstairs, reminiscing of a different time, of discovery and excitement. Of different people with different secrets. Wylan usually seems lost in thought, often internally reflecting rather than being outwardly vocal like the rest of the Crows. He is another mystery, especially because of the tenuous relationship he has with his father. 

Jesper’s brown skin glimmers in the sun, inclining his eyebrows in mischief before taking a toffee from the bowl next to him and flinging it across Wylan’s chair to Nina. 

Her tongue flicks out as it hits her arm, thick lips smirking before unwrapping the plastic wrapper and popping the candy in her mouth. Nina is one of the only Crows who was forced into attending the University of Ketterdam. Her parents, with her father being an extremely rich and powerful Russian politician and her mother, an aristocratic woman supposedly descending from ancient Russian royalty, had been raising Nina to marry a high ranking Scandinavian commander since she was eleven. The marriage was supposed to secure better relations between the two nations, as well as provide Nina with a life of security, wealth, and status for her and her children. All her parents want for her. 

In true Nina fashion, this is unacceptable. 

Her family said the marriage could wait if she wanted to go to school and get a degree, which may better serve her husband and their families prestige in the future. Seeing no other viable option, especially because she did not want to marry a “white haired barbarian” as she called her husband-to-be, she enrolled in a prestigious university as far away from Russia as she could get. Despite her parents beliefs that she is a culinary student - “because a good wife knows how to cook”, according to her parents, Nina has been studying Performing Arts and Theatre. A perfect major to fit her personality and her beauty, with her tall, curvy frame and piercing green eyes. Today, she is wearing an olive bodysuit, the neck low cutting and her legs hugged by a pair of black flare jeans. Casual and entrancing. Her style seems to change depending on her mood, from modest foreigner to vivacious party girl to preppy student. New each day. 

“We will need others,” Kaz mumbles to Inej, furrowing his dark eyebrows in thought. 

I have only been with the Crows for a few months, but I already know how unusual that is. Kaz rarely asks for help, especially from those outside of the Crow Club. But whatever he has planned seems to be a lot more serious than the other jobs, more personal than merely ousting insider trading, or infiltrating various museums and mansions, or spying on the Upper East and West Side elite to gain intel and use it to our advantage. 

Each of us has a unique purpose to Kaz. His investments. And while it has been easier to see where the others’ talents fit in, I am still baffled by my own. I adjust the sleeves of my lavender shirt, the ruffled material smooth on my shoulders. 

I had known the Crow Club existed before I set foot on campus. As a journalism major, secrets have always intrigued me. Not just the secrets. The challenge of uncovering them, of working from the inside to reveal some of the deepest and darkest parts of humanity. I had always heard whispers of the club amongst the Upper West side elite, whispers about Kaz Brekker and his Crows. Always watching. Always ready to catch you red-handed. But I didn’t even need to go out of my way to find the Crow Club.

Kaz found me first. Called me an asset. He and Inej invited me to join starting the summer before my second term. I have surprised myself by warming up to the rest of the Crows so quickly, even the ones who aren’t active members and are just extra recruits for Kaz to call if he needs them. We all mean something here, we all have a purpose, more than what the world is trying to force upon us.  

A family. Especially since most of ours are broken or nonexistent. 

After a few minutes of waiting, Kaz snaps to attention and we follow suit, like trained soldiers, eager for him to share whatever small slice of his plan that he decides to. His crisp suit is pure black, a small crow brooch pinned to his lapel. The shaved hair on the side of his head is beginning to grow out, the top slicked back with a deep, oaky smelling gel. He always looks like he is dressed for a business meeting, even when it’s just us. Inej always muses that there is an irony to it, but how, I don’t know. I suppose everything is business to Kaz. 

“Okay,” he begins, voice gruff and deep. “This is what we’ll do.” 

----

Nina and I weave our way through the busy streets, blessing the cool wind as it kisses our faces in the dying summer heat. Her hair is down, the sun illuminating the many shades of brown running through the waves and her dress is high on her thighs, the red cotton fabric hugging the curves of her waist. Being in America has done wonders for Nina, brightened her complexion, improved her spirit, and turned her from a wafer-thin girl to a full-bodied, thick thighed woman. Everywhere she goes, people stare. She is otherworldly, like a saint on Earth. 

“Where did Kaz send us this time?” Nina complains, sucking the dripping strawberry ice cream from her fingers before chucking the cone into a nearby trash. 

“He didn’t,” I grin, dodging a guy with suspicious looking flyers on the sidewalk. “He gave us his card and very vague instructions to find a wardrobe for the event.” 

Nina’s eyes sparkle, cleaning off the rest of her fingers before she entwines her elbow in mine. New York City seems to breathe with our every step, the wind moving, the heat unfurling, and the trees swaying. Taxis and cars whiz by on the avenue, the honking of horns and the laughter of tourists crossing into Central Park filling the air. Everything about New York is alive, even the concrete holds stories it’s waiting to tell. 

“Then let’s go down Fifth,” Nina begins, mischief in her tone. “I know a few places.” 

“I bet you do,” I flash her a smile, crossing the street so we walk parallel to the park. 

We trek down the street, stopping into a macaron shop in the Plaza Hotel to get a bright blue bag full of sweets for us to eat on our journey. Nina and I are bouncing on our heels, excited to have a day to ourselves, away from the Crow Club and the University and being responsible for buying dresses for not only ourselves, but for Inej, Alina, and Zoya, as well. 

Kaz had three extra students brought in for this assignment, all a part of the secret network of Crows that don’t sit in regular meetings. First is Alina, who has an international reputation for rebuilding schools and orphanages across the world since she was thirteen, and who has been a Crow since her first step onto campus. She transferred here as a graduate student from some extremely prestigious school in California to complete her PhD and teaching credentials. Every time I have seen Alina, she has been so kind and so helpful, always eager to teach, serve, and build in any way she can. It’s beyond me why she wants to be a part of these operations. Maybe every good girl has a naughty streak. 

Zoya, on the other hand, seems like the opposite of Alina. A close friend, confidant, and suspected girlfriend, of another one of Kaz’s network of Crows, Zoya is an overly intelligent, intimidating, and obscenely beautiful law student. Her hair is always smooth, a jet black slate against her back and her eyes are always piercing, judging and observing in their ice blue. Her skin always looks perfectly tanned, a deep brown that makes the pink of her lips more enticing. Her grades are pristine, her ability to argue is unparalleled, and if there were ever a force to be reckoned with, it is her. It’s a lot more obvious to understand why she agreed to join the Crows, for the prestige, the knowledge, the power. But truly puzzling, is her relationship with Nikolai. 

Nikolai, or Nik, as I like to call him, is one of the best - and funniest, Crows. Clever, self-deprecating, friendly, handsome, the list goes on. His blonde hair is a shaggy mop of artsy goodness, his skin is creamy, his style completely unmatched and his wealth bottomless. Nik and Kaz are always butting heads; most of the time it’s the only comedic relief the Crow Club has when they’re together. Nik met Zoya during undergrad, in a political science course, where apparently their discussions were lively enough to earn them A’s and lengthy enough to last entire class sessions. Nik has one of those family names that are revered in every elite social circle, making him an obvious addition for Kaz’s team and from what I have gleaned from Nik, he decided to join the Crows to give him something interesting to do besides follow in his father’s footsteps. I wish I wanted to be a Crow out of boredom. 

“God,” Nina groans, shoving her phone back into her five thousand dollar purse. “If I get one more message from my parents asking if I’ve heard from that white-haired, rule-following, stick-up-his-ass, Scandinavian inbred, I am going to drown my phone in the Hudson River.” 

“Wow,” I clap for her, avoiding the incredulous gapes of tourists at her language. “So many adjectives and I don’t even think you’ve ever said his name.”

A man opens up the glass doors to Bergdorf Goodman’s, where cool air and white marble greet us. Immediately, we drift to the dress racks, combing through all of the latest trends.

“Matthias,” she almost growls. “His letters are so proper, telling me that he has heard of my exemplary womanly skills from my parents. That he would delight to see my drawings and sewing and hear me play the piano. It’s ridiculous. I don’t do any of those things by choice.” 

I stifle a laugh. “He seems very… traditional.” 

“Seems?” She throws her hands up, shoving a silk dress back onto the rack with too much force. “He is the definition of the word! And worst of all, he’s attractive! He has snow white hair and is built like one of those huge wrestler guys that people watch on TV.” 

“Why is that a problem?” 

“Because his complete lack of competence makes him a barbarian! A man who thinks the perfect wife is silent and docile. He’s going to have another thing coming when I show up.” 

“He comes from old money in an old country,” I begin, wondering whether I need to tread lightly. “Don’t you think he’s just taught to think that way?” 

She sighs, holding up a stunning evergreen gown against her figure. “I know he is. That’s what’s even worse. I know that everyone where he is from has been taught those values. So even if he came to love me, to understand me, no one on the outside would. His station, his reputation, his fortune, all of it is dependent on how I perform. How I reflect him.” 

“That doesn’t seem fair,” I muse, holding out another red silk dress for her. 

“Money isn’t fair.” 

I blink, surprised at her words. Money is just an object. It has no preference, no deference, no opinions. But I guess the idea of money is more important and tangible than the paper itself. Money has value and expectations beyond the faces staring back at you from the press. It expects manners, it breeds tradition and hierarchy and perfect wives who aren’t allowed to make any. I wonder if Nina will end up bending to those wills, to the one’s she has been raised to. America is such a different place, but I guess money everywhere is the same. It controls you. 

“This.” 

I turn around, face breaking out into a huge smile at the dress Nina is holding. It is a deep purple, with sheer shoulder sleeves and a deep plunging neckline covered in diamond flowers. The waist is cinched, belted by more glittering gems, before it falls and flows in layers of purple silk and satin to the floor, flowers and vines curling around the skirt. Nina’s hair and eyes and skin would look angelic in the dress. I nod fervently, unable to cap my smile as she waves over an employee to open the dressing room. 

While in the dressing rooms, Nina and I talk through the divider. 

“Where was Wylan off to earlier?” I ask, taking off my clothes and folding them neatly on the small leather bench. “He never really seems to be around these days.” 

“Yeah,” Nina says, with a grunt. “He’s been trying to rekindle his relationship with his father, studying a lot. You know, the usual dysfunctional family stuff.” 

I laugh. “My family wasn’t dysfunctional in that way.” 

“I would say you were lucky,” Nina begins and I can hear her zipper up as mine does. “But I know you weren’t.” 

At the same time, we step out of the dressing room, identical smiles breaking open our faces before we clasp our hands together and squeal with happiness. The dresses look perfect, we look perfect, everything looks perfect. 

And now we just have to find dresses for Alina and Zoya. 

With these price tags, Kaz is going to regret lending us his credit card. 

----

“Something Kaz Brekker doesn’t know how to do,” I tease a few days later,“drive.” 

He shoots me a healthy side glare, uncurling his fingers from around the steering wheel. The sun is shining through the left side of the car, illuminating his high cheeks and arched brow bones with dazzling light. If Kaz weren’t so… him, I’m confident he would have made an amazing Calvin Klein model. Especially because his lips are always relaxed in a bit of a natural pout and his resting stance is so relaxed, yet also confident. He is striking. 

And he doesn’t belong to me. Nor do I think he ever will. 

Despite their claims and attempts to put distance between their relationship, it has become common knowledge in the Crow Club that Kaz and Inej are a package deal. And it doesn’t take a trained Journalism major to read between those lines. It is blindingly obvious in the subtle ways she touches him, the way his gaze softens when he looks at her. She is the ice to his fire, and when needed, he is the same for her. A complimentary pair in every way, even if it seems unlikely on the surface. 

“Okay,” I begin, gesturing to the automatic gears between us. I explain what each of the letters stand for, instructing him to move the clutch into reverse and slowly ease up on the brake. With a bit of a jerk, Kaz obeys, turning the wheel to back us out of the spot in the empty parking lot. It had taken a bit of a road trip to find this place outside of the city. I had driven Kaz and myself into New Jersey, where the early morning dawn had just begun to crest, giving our driving lessons an advantage. Kaz had immediately, and somewhat reluctantly, urged me to teach him, claiming we would need it for this assignment. Inej had pushed him along with the conversation, rolling her eyes at how his own pride blocked up his request. 

“Now go back into drive,” I say, lurching forward when he does and pushes his foot down too forcefully on the gas pedal. He turns in circles around the empty lot, taking care to avoid the lamp posts. On every straight away, Kaz seems to hit the gas with a little more force, graceful turns giving way to concussion-inducing races. It seems he has the turning part down, but the lurching and jerking of the car would get him pulled over quickly. 

And although Kaz will no doubt be having a new fake I.D. made by one of our extra Crows, the risk of involving a police officer is not one any of us want to take. 

“Slow down there, Nascar.” I laugh.

He eases up, taking his time to get used to the ebb and flow of the vehicle. Where he got the car is beyond me, but I am also beyond questioning Kaz’s ability to secure random and often, complicated, objects for our heists. He has become my biggest puzzle, my biggest mystery to solve. And if it hasn’t been one hell of an adventure trying to figure him out. Observing him and listening and learning his subtle tells when he is angry or pleased or scheming. Lately, though, it feels as if the obsession for uncovering his truths have blossomed into something else, something that makes my heart race a little faster and my palms sweat. Something I haven’t been able to control. And how I hate not being in control. 

“Turn out onto the street,” I instruct, forcing myself to speak and get out of my own head. 

He obliges, the car absorbing the bumps in the curb as Kaz makes a graceful right turn. His black gloves glide smoothly along the steering wheel, the sleeve of his shirt riding up to expose a sliver of his pale wrist. My mind begins to wander again, to whether or not Inej has touched them, if she has held his wrists down as she gracefully slid on top of him. I wonder if she has kissed him, if he whispers her secrets to her like some sort of sexy spy pillow talk. 

“Cataleya,” Kaz is saying, the four syllables of my name like chimes from his mouth. 

“Sorry,” I shake my head, swallowing and casting him a glance. “What?” 

“Where are we going?” He repeats, monotone and bored. 

His driving has already gotten smoother, his feet steady on the brake and gas as I tell him to pull onto the dirt on the side of the two-lane road and turn around. There are still no cars out here at this hour, an Amtrak just beginning its morning route on a station in the distance. I can see the outline of the city beyond the valley, half blocked by trees and tall grass. The skyscrapers are haloed by the rising sun, like a safe haven calling me back home. 

“Who taught you to drive?” Kaz says, his raspy voice surprisingly light. 

“A friend I had growing up,” I reply, surprised.

“That’s a nice friend,” he comments, voice taking on an edge I don’t understand. 

I snort. “Yeah, well, I didn’t have any family to do it.”

His hands tighten on the steering wheel ever so slightly and if I weren’t observant I probably would have missed it. The way he tenses up. The way his jaw clenches and the car begins to move a bit faster as his foot locks onto the gas. “Me either.” 

“I found my mother dead.” The words are out of my mouth before I realize it. Kaz’s gaze shifts a bit, but he keeps his focus on the road as I continue. “I went to bury a dead cat in my mother’s old garden. We never touched it, my father never tended to it, or let me, after he said she left us. But when I went out to the garden and began to dig, I lost track of time, I dug far deeper than I intended. My father wasn’t home, I wanted to be there, in that garden, and away from him if he came home, for as long as possible. I didn’t realize how far I had dug until,” I swallow, inhaling and turning to Kaz. “Until a hand began to form beneath the dirt, and then an arm, and I saw the wedding ring, the bruises, the blue of her dress…” 

Kaz’s lips part, the only admission of emotion he gives. 

“The coroner said she had been dead for four months. Four months,” my voice broke, splintered on the fragments of my memories. “That she had been beaten and buried there. They couldn’t… couldn’t prove it was my father. He had money, lots of it. And he paid a lot of people to keep quiet.” 

“Is that why you love journalism?” Kaz asks, slowing the car to ready his turn back into the empty lot. “Exposing them? Making them pay with more than their blood money and with plain blood?”

I inhale, lips curling back in more of a snarl than a smile. “Everyone I knew. Everyone I knew who was involved. I have made them pay. In some form.” I throw Kaz a true smile, a devilish gleam in my eyes. “Although I suppose you already know that. It’s why Inej noticed me in the first place.” 

“One of the many reasons,” Kaz replies, words back to being clipped, tight. 

With a smooth arc of the steering wheel, Kaz turns the car into the same spot as before, hitting a little too hard on the brake before coming to a stop. My hair moves in front of my face at the jolt, a blessed curtain separating me from him. I can feel him thinking, churning over my words, assessing me. 

Kaz hardly seems fazed as I peek at him around my hair. His dark eyes are far away, his gloved hands slack on the wheel. I still myself, hearing the purr of the car engine, hearing Kaz’s breathing, shallow and uneven, as he goes into the place he so rarely dives. His eyes are almost glazed, like he’s been drinking, completely lost in his own thoughts. I know some of his story already. From Nina. From Jesper. From my research. 

“Your brother,” I murmur, soft and low. 

His hands tighten on the wheel until they are bone white, staring straight ahead at the tree lined landscape. “Jordie,” he pushes through his teeth. “His name was Jordie.” 

My spine straightens. Kaz has never said anything about his brother, and has never allowed any of the Crows besides Inej into his life in this way. And I wonder how far he has even let her in. I swallow, questioning if I should press or let it be. I am just about to get out and switch places with him to take us back into the city, when he opens his mouth and to my bewilderment, continues to speak. 

“My parents were mixed up in some bad stuff before we came here. We lived in the countryside, with a bit of land and no one around us for miles. My brother was older than me, only by four years, but enough to know how to keep me from looking where I shouldn’t. From keeping me happy and sheltered.” A muscle flickers in Kaz’s jaw, his pale skin going ashier with each word, “I didn’t know what was happening when they came. The thugs my parents had been hopping between towns, cities, and states to avoid for over a decade. Jordie took me, the remaining cash from the safe, that my father had stolen, and fled to New York City. He hoped we would be invisible among so many people.” 

I don’t know I am holding my breath until I release it, low and shaky. Kaz is silent again, staring off, flexing and unflexing his fingers against the steering wheel, like a silent reminder that he is here. 

“Are they alive?” I ask, voice so silent it’s almost nothing. 

“I don’t know,” Kaz admits. “But we never heard from them. I’ve never heard. So I can only assume not. And I don’t think I would want to see them if they were.”  

“And Jordie…?” I venture, terrified to hear more, but also terrified he’ll clam up. I am desperate for more. Desperate to know him. 

“We weren’t safe here. They found us. Or, found Jordie. While I was gone.” Every single syllable from his lips are forced and painful, laced with self loathing and regret. Survivor's guilt. “I was supposed to be there, but Jordie had sent me away. On an errand down in Brooklyn. He knew we were trapped, and wanted me to live, if he couldn’t. If Jordie could convince them he was alone and I had been shipped somewhere else... ” He breathes in and out, slowly and deeply, focusing on some point in the distance. “They ruled it as a suicide. He had cut his own throat, only his DNA on the knife, only his blood… I don’t know if he did it before they came. Or if they staged it. The not knowing. The guessing. That’s what makes it worse.” 

“So you look for control in other places.” I say. “In the market. In investment. In the Crows. I do the same thing.” 

“The Crows stand for the same thing you do, Cataleya.” Kaz says, looking at me with an intense stare. “Exposure. We want things to be different. We want people to pay, truly pay, for what they have done. Instead of buying silence. Buying lies. We want the truth. Only the truth.” 

His words pierce me, his black hair stark against his forehead, shaved sides longer than he normally keeps them. His eyebrows are set in a hard determined line, lips closed, and jaw locked in determination. I know he made those people pay, the ones who took his brother from him. I can see it on his face. 

“How did you survive?” I begin, “without him?”

Kaz licked his lips and let out a low chuckle. “Our money was gone. But we knew some people. Kids we met on the street. They made me a fake to get into bars with; I was barely sixteen by that time, but I looked older. Rougher. I had a skill for counting cards and made a small fortune quickly by playing in run down joints and eventually, working my way into larger, more expensive establishments. It was hard, I lived and breathed revenge, for Jordie. I wanted to have him back. To have something that was mine. I built up a small fortune, studied the market, and began investing. By the time I applied to the University of Ketterdam it didn’t matter that I only had my GED and no family, my self-made fortune was enough.” 

“But why here?” I ask, furrowing my brows in confusion. “Why school at all?” 

Kaz continues to look at me, eyes blazing. “Because we had a dream. Jordie and I. We had a dream that we would never forget what happened. That we had to run. And that when we were older, more settled, we would build something here. In New York City, something that would last. Something with a legacy. Like Crows, Jordie had said, symbolizing death but themselves being alive. We were dealt bad luck and would bestow it on others who deserve it.” 

“Thus, The Crow Club,” I finish his sentence, gaze roaming his face. “A secret society at one of the world’s best universities that would have a legacy. Have prestige. Have a family.” 

“Something that is mine,” Kaz’s lips part, wet from his tongue. 

“Yes, yours.” I echo. 

We are both silent for a few moments. Weighing our words. Our truths. Even the trees outside seem to stop in the wind, leaves quiet and branches unwavering. Kaz has opened up in a way I have never seen before. Never expected. He has been through so much. So much like me. Dealt with death. Loss. Life. We aren’t so different. None of the Crows are. 

“What about the others?” 

“Those aren’t my stories to tell,” Kaz responds, voice returning to its detached state.

I nod, once, accepting. I know a few of them already. Nina. Wylan. The new recruits. But Inej and Jesper are mysteries. Complete and whole geniuses shrouded in questions. I don’t like questions. Especially ones I can’t answer. 

“How did you survive? With him?” Kaz’s voice rings again, reflecting my earlier question. His words are too big for the small car, inhaling deeply through my nose as a small smile graces my lips. His long fingers move the shift into reverse to back out of the spot to drive us back to the city himself. The true test of his skill on the Manhattan streets.  

“That friend. The one who taught me how to drive,” I reply, a bit of wistful nostalgia filling my tone. “He helped me. Took care of me. Looked after me.” 

“Past tense?” He inquires, feet smooth as he presses on the gas pedal. 

“We are still friends,” I say. “I think. Things are just… different.” 

“Different. That’s an understatement.” He replies, voice drenched with irony. “Everything is different, isn’t it, depending on how you look at it.”

I nod and laugh, giving him a compliment on how swiftly he picked up driving before we settle into a comfortable silence. Crows. Allies. Friends. If we can call ourselves that. 

I hope we can. 

----

Today, I am supposed to meet the enemy. 

Kaz told me yesterday he set up a rendezvous at one of the campus coffee spots and that there would be someone waiting for me there. Someone he wouldn’t name. Someone that I am supposed to gather information from. Someone who thinks we are on a date. 

I had almost hit him when he pulled up his phone to show me the fake dating profile that was made for me. Pictures of me smiling, laughing, most of them pictures I didn’t even remember taking, all glowed brightly at me, accentuated by a bio that said I liked my men tall, dark, and tortured. 

How cliche. 

“Nina made it,” Kaz had shrugged then returned his phone back to his pocket. 

“And you would be surprised by how many matches you made,” Inej’s voice was laced with humor, lilting into the room without a trace. 

“She’ll walk you over,” Kaz said, gesturing around the room to her unknown location. “Like any dutiful girl would for her best friend about to go on a date from an app. Then, you’ll just need to proceed as normal. Ask him about his life, his job, his degree, his connection to UOK. All the basics. The main concern is reading him out for a vibe, his family has had a lot of influence in some shady shit and he’s from another society here.”

So that’s what this was about? Some sour deals that probably put Kaz out of some easy money and a rival society that was challenging Kaz’s position in the control of campus secrets and his standing legacy? I don’t feel like that is the whole story, but that’s all that Kaz was willing to give me at the time. 

And he hadn’t said anything this afternoon when I had gone into the Crow Library to meet Inej. He acted like nothing ever happened, like he hadn’t revealed some of his darkest secrets to me. Like we hadn’t shared a moment of… something. He barely looked at me from his desk, hair rumpled and face flushed from stress, in my tight long sleeve dress and tights, combat boots laced up around my ankles in case this random guy got the wrong idea. 

The air outside had turned to autumn, giving us an unusually cold and windy day. I was puttering around and trying to think of something to say to Kaz, when Inej came down the staircase with silent feet, dressed in a pair of black leggings and a cream knit sweater. Her hair had been mused in the back and her face also looked a bit red. I had almost laughed, looking between her flushed state and Kaz’s slightly red cheeks, before giving Inej a knowing quirk of my eyebrows. 

And now, outside of the library and alone, walking across the cobblestoned campus paths with autumn leaves falling around us, I turn to her. “Do I even want to know?” 

“It’s college,” she replies, so quiet it’s almost to herself. “Things happen.” 

“Things don’t just happen with Kaz Brekker.” 

She looks at me, face breaking out into a blinding smile that splits her beautifully baked face. “They do when he’s in a rather… compromising position.” 

“Inej!” I release the laugh I’ve been holding, the now pulled back coil of her hair showing off the reddened tips of her ears. Since I have known of Inej, she has always been rather modest. Sure of herself in a quiet way. The kind of confidence that doesn’t need reassurance or shields. Inej herself is a shield, a force of silent secrets she keeps hidden beneath the unsuspecting lithe of her dancer’s frame. 

We take a right turn down one of the main campus paths, small walkways opening up into a large courtyard. Students mill about, sitting on statues, kissing underneath the garden archways, reading books on their way into classes. The University of Ketterdam has always been such an eclectic place, not only because of its location in New York City, but because of its campus. Lush, green, beautiful. An ode to history and architecture and modernity all the same. The programs here are some of the best in the world and while tuition isn’t cheap, the value of a Ketterdam degree is worth it. 

“Is it bad that I kind of do want to know though?” I begin, not even sure what I’m saying. 

“No,” Inej says, voice thoughtful and not defensive in any way. This is why I love Inej. So honest and unafraid. “I think everyone wants to know about Kaz. Everyone wants to be the hero that solves the mystery or the lover that turns a prince from darkness.” She pauses, looking around at the students, seeming lost in thought. Her dark eyebrows crease together, as if in thought or sadness. “Some people just can’t be saved.” 

I can tell she’s referring to Kaz. But I’m not sure if I agree. I think everyone can be saved. I think darkness lives in everyone and all a person needs is a bit of light to show them through. People weren’t born into darkness, or evil, they were made that way. Through that, they could be unmade. And Inej has enough light and strength in one of her hands to see any person through the blackest of tunnels. I think of what Kaz had said to me, in the car, about his story, about his desire for revenge. For retribution. Maybe I want to believe we can be saved from the darkness because I want to be saved. Because like calls to like. And there is a deep chasm within Kaz that sings to me. 

Inej moves her head to look at me, a full and unabashed gaze that somehow makes me uncomfortable. Like she can see straight to my soul. Like she can see every lie I have told or every promise I have broken or every secret I have kept. Like she can see my desires and my shame and my longing for things I can’t have.

“But we love them anyway, don’t we?” She finishes, giving me a contemplative look. 

I think of the people I love, the people I did love, when there were still people in my life that were capable of receiving such a thing; people who were dark and painful and I still loved them anyway. Love can be such a blinding thing. Blinding and binding. 

“Yeah,” I echo, her reflective tone rubbing off onto my voice. “We do.” 

The both of us descend into silence as we continue to walk across the quad. I begin to feel my stomach turn, my palms sweat. No matter how many times I have done this, not dates, but encounter new people, this feeling returns. Every time I have to meet someone new, report on something, present something for a class, I would feel anxiety grip my insides and twist. When I was younger, that anxiety was terrifying, it made me cower, it made me scared. But as I got older, I began to use it and cling to it. I began to form it into an entity that gave me courage instead of taking it, something that would ground me to myself and propel me into my fears. 

Inej begins, “Kaz texted and said he’s outside. Reading. Good luck.” Then she’s gone.

Steadying my breath, the smell of coffee hits my nostrils as I round the library steps to the small path beside it. The coffee shop is nestled into the side of the huge, brick building, almost like a tumor sprouting from the side. Inej has completely disappeared, only leaving the familiar scent of herbs in her wake. She is supposed to be going up the library steps to find a good vantage point from one of the many windows facing the coffee shop on the building’s side. Students move around through the cafe windows, in and out of the doors, little bell ringing to signal both arrival and departure. 

But I am not paying attention to any of them. 

Because there is a boy. A man. Sitting at one of the tables outside, his long legs stretched underneath the opposite chair, wearing a pair of leather sneakers. His long fingers are thumbing through a novel, covers worn and pages yellow with age. He can feel someone there, looking, sitting up and turning in that little metal chair to see who. To see me. 

It’s Alek. 

I blanch, mouth going dry and jaw slackening. I know him. I more than know him. I- 

“Cataleya,” his voice is pure night, laced and dripping with stars. He doesn’t seem surprised to see me, not even phased. Not that I have ever seen him look surprised. I flash back to that day in the garden, to his hands on my face, wiping my tears, to his arms around me, murmuring condolences, to the face that I could see through my blurred tears. Dark hair, pale skin, beautifully big gray eyes. I had barely known him, barely seen him despite our houses being right next door, despite our windows being on opposite sides of the alley and me being able to spy on him when his curtains were parted at night. 

“Aleksander?” I stand a little straighter, gathering my shock and shoving it deep down. 

He smiles, standing up from the chair on the patio of the coffee shop. He is so tall, taller than I remember. His dark jeans are fitted against his legs and the black long sleeve button down he is wearing shows off a large portion of his impeccable chest. I don’t remember when the last time I saw him was, but I definitely don’t recall feeling the pulsing and intense heat that flashes through my body when I look at him. I suddenly feel naked. And stupid. 

Is Kaz trying to kill me?

Swallowing thickly, I scan the windows on the side of the library for Inej, wondering if she has already found a perch to play spy. The sun reflects off of each glass surface in the afternoon light, making it impossible to see through any of them. Blowing a breath through my lips, I attempt to quell the storm brewing and churning in my stomach. 

“What a wonderful surprise this is,” Alek starts. 

I catch the edge in his voice, the way the tone lilts at the end. A tell of how much this encounter is not a surprise. For him anyway. But I smile, I nod and I watch as he fluidly closes the distance between us and takes me in his arms. 

I hate how I exhale. 

How my whole body relaxes. 

I hate how good it feels. 

Like coming home. 

He smells like winter and barren tree branches, like snow and absence of light. Like a dark night wrapping me in its embrace and taking away the pain that days bring. Peaceful and mysterious all the same. Just as I remember it. Just as I remember him. 

“Since when did you start wearing all black?” I joke as he pulls away, gesturing to his outfit. “Are you some kind of darkling now?” 

He gives me a blinding grin, chuckling under his breath. 

“Something like that.” 

He gestures us back over to the table and I sit across from him, back rigid and legs crossed. I feel like a mannequin, still and stoic, despite the intense pounding of my heart and rush of blood through my veins. 

“How have you been?” He asks, leaning back in his chair with an amused look on his face. “I must say I was very surprised when your profile popped up Tinder.” 

I clench my jaw, working my teeth against each other. “Yeah, so was I.” 

Tilting his head to the side, Alek studies me, eyes unabashedly roaming from my face to my chest to my waist, to my legs visible on the side of the table. I swallow, trying to clear the unfamiliar lump in my throat before I speak. 

“But I’m good. Great, even. But I didn’t even know you are here. That you went here in the first place.” 

“It’s a temporary thing,” Alek responds. 

“Temporary?” I push. 

“I’m just getting a business credential for the semester,” he says, airy and dismissive. 

I narrow my eyes at him, hoping he can feel the suspicion and annoyance radiating from my look. He drums his fingers on the table, weighing my stare with a measured, even gaze that infuriates me further. I always hated when he did this when we were kids. Always challenging me. Always trying to get me to back down. Luckily, our time apart has sharpened my detective skills and my comfort with confrontation. 

Alek sighs, blinking slowly. “Fine. I’m here because of you.” 

My jaw slackens. 

Because of me? 

“I missed you,” he whispers, in a rare display of vulnerability and affection, before reaching across the table to take my hand. 

Fire lashes up my wrist and arm, chills spreading in its wake. His touch is electrifying me, his skin like a hot branding iron pushing into me with delicious pain. Alek’s jaw is set, the hard lines on his chin lined with stubble. I want to take his face in my hands and kiss him. I want to feel him against me and get lost in the impossibly deep gray ocean of his eyes. 

“Where were you then?” I venture, pushing down the pressing anxiety. 

“I had a lot to deal with after my dad died,” he responds, voice detached and noncommittal. “I’m really sorry I let our relationship fall away, but I didn’t want to drag you down into my grief. You’ve always had enough on your plate.” 

“You helped me through grief.” My tone steadies. “I wanted to help you.” 

He huffs, “I didn’t want your help.” 

The words are like a slap in the face, pulling my hand from his with a start. His dad’s death had been very abrupt and unexpected, launching Alek into a world of unknown wealth and property and an accumulation of other assets he wasn’t even aware his father had. His death was ruled under suspicious circumstances, but no leads were ever found for a murderer or any other sort of foul play. And with Alek’s mother long gone to cancer, he found himself newly eighteen and alone in the world. Except he wasn’t alone. He always had me. 

Alek releases a breath, eyes softening as he leans back in his chair, aware of the mistake in his harsh words. He pushes a hand through his hair, the dark waves parting for his hand like a saint in the sea. 

“I don’t mean it like that. I wanted you to be there, Cataleya. But some things you have to do on your own, you know? I had so much to figure out and sort through and… it was overwhelming.” 

I nod, chewing on the inside of my cheek. Alek was never the kind of guy to ask for help, especially not from people he is close to. He always did things alone, always felt weak for not building his own empire, his own legacy, his own destiny, without anyone else. But two years, I haven’t heard from him in two years and now here he is. In front of me. Asking for some sort of forgiveness. Is there anything to forgive? The pit in my stomach says yes. But my throbbing heart and other throbbing parts of me say no. 

“I missed you, too.” 

A small smile blossoms across his face, the sight beautiful and stupefying. 

“I can’t help but notice you walked here with Inej Ghafa,” he starts and my alert senses begin to tingle. “Isn’t she a part of Kaz Brekker’s Crow Club?” 

“How do you know about that?” I ask before I can help myself.

“Anyone who is anyone knows about Kaz,” he responds, almost spitting his name. 

“Okay…” I begin, unease settling into my stomach like a stone. “But why do you?” 

“He has something I need.” 

The stone becomes a boulder. 

“Are you-” I stop, then start again. “You’re the one that this is for.” 

“If by “this”, you mean whatever scheme he is planning to trap me in, then yes.”

“But why? How do you even know him? Don’t you know who he is and what he does? What are you thinking going against Kaz?” I ask urgently, struggling to keep my voice low. 

He pins me to the chair with a dead look. “He has debts he needs to pay.” 

“You’re going vague again?” I shake my head, irritated with his bipolar intensity then flippancy. “You need to back down. Or you’re going to end up hurt.” 

A smirk tugs at his full lips, “Your lack of faith in me is really inspiring, Cataleya.” 

“It’s not that,” I retort, exasperated, crossing my arms. “Kaz is really powerful. With more networks and connections than you know. If you don’t stop whatever crusade you have on him, you’re the one that’s going to end up indebted.” 

He laughs this time, a full and deep laugh that surprises me. “Has he really dug his talons that deep in you? That you’ve forgotten how wide my own connections spread? How cunning I can be?” 

“We haven’t spoken in two years,” I respond, pettily. “I don’t know you at all anymore.” 

He leans forward, eyes incredibly dark and face serious. “You know that’s not true.”

I hold his stare, raising my eyebrows, feeling satisfied that I made my point. Alek reaches across the table and places his palm up on it in invitation. I can see the veins of his inner wrist, with dark ink snaking across the blue and disappearing under his shirt sleeve. He didn’t have any tattoos when I last talked to him. My fingers itch to push back the fabric and see them. His secrets. Like Kaz’s, they are so plain on his skin yet hidden through metaphors and signs. 

Licking my lips, I push out a breath and put my hand atop his, feeling his eyes follow mine to where the ink is displayed. Without saying anything, he pushes the sleeve of his shirt up his forearm, stopping at the inner crook of his elbow. 

Inhaling and holding, I blink at the constellation on the inside of his forearm. A night sky, swirling with black and dead space, with creatures in between zombies and ghosts with huge demon wings flying through it. There is a ship at the base of his wrist, a small stern gliding through dark sand, a tiny speck compared to the massive size of the creatures flying above it. It is dark and torturing and incredibly impassioned. I let the pads of my fingers drift softly up Alek’s arm, watching goosebumps form on his skin. 

“What are they?” I ask. 

“They’re called volcra,” Alek says. “Beings that live in darkness and are afraid of light. They feed on those who come into their path, who are unable to see or defend themselves in the black sea of sand.” 

“It’s so… intense.” I search for the right word to describe it, coming up short. 

“I want to remind myself to not be afraid of light. Of happiness. That the things that I may think make me weak, really make me strong. I need to find more light, to find my light. I have been full of darkness for a long time, Cataelya. I’ve lived in a thousand moments of it.” 

I tilt my head, fingers pressed into the inside of his elbow and looking up at him through my lashes. His eyes are trained to the spot where our skin is meeting, his lips parted and eyebrows furrowed a bit in the middle. I resist the urge to flatten it with my thumb, letting the wind and the sound of other students fill the silence between us. 

“You were the only light in my life for a long time,” I say to him, tracing the volcra’s deformed bodies with my index finger. “I had nothing. I had no one. You pulled me from that nothingness. From the darkness. And held me in your arms. Brought me up to somewhere better. Where I can hope. Where I can not only see light, but make my own. That is invaluable to me.” 

He catches my hand and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to my palm. “Can you help me, then? Can you bring me back my light, too?” 

My breathing stalls. I know what he’s asking from me. I know it’s more than just offering a flashlight through the tunnel. I know it’s more complicated than I can currently imagine. Alek stands up, coming around the table to kneel in front of my chair. Some students stare, wondering if they’re about to witness a proposal. I ignore them, keeping my eyes trained on Alek’s imploring gaze. I know in this moment, I will give him the world, the moon, and all of its stars. I will give him all of my sun and then some, I will summon everything I have to fill the darkest parts of him. 

He takes my face in his hands, palms impossibly soft on my cheeks. Subtly, slowly, I nod, watching his face break a part into a smile. Without pausing, Alek leans forward and kisses me. His lips are smooth and plush, completely stunning me into inaction as he runs his fingers along the sides of my throat. I sigh into his mouth, body realizing what is happening just as he is pulling away. Parting my lips, I stupidly sit in my chair as he gets up in one flowing movement.

Alek looks down at me with a smile. “I hope to see you soon then, Cataleya.” 

Just like that, he scoops up his book and walks away. Gone as quickly as he appeared. 

----

The room is completely aglow with light, chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and candles lit around the room. Everything has a soft, burnt hue, like the room is on fire from below and the blaze is lighting the space. It must be the size of the University of Ketterdam quad, with hundreds of people talking, dancing, eating, and drinking. I recognize some students and faculty, but most are a blur of unfamiliar gowns and tuxedos. 

“They know how to throw a party,” Nik says appreciatively. 

“If they didn’t, no one would take them seriously.” Zoya retorts, leaving Nik’s side without so much as a glance to drift into the crowd. The smell of honey and sweet drinks spreads through the room, long tables lining either wall stacked with a massive spread. 

“That’s where I’ll be,” whispers Nina. 

I smile at her, gathering my dress in my hands and descending the few flat stairs to the main rooms. The floor is a beautiful tile, mosaics and colors that I can’t decipher flowing from the entry way beneath the mass of bodies. There is something magical about it all, something historic, like stepping into a time machine. The walls are lined with thick tapestries, with small halls leading into different areas of grandeur. I shouldn’t be surprised that wealth like this still exists, but every time I see it, I am. 

Scanning the space, I see Alek from across the ballroom, near one of the food tables, his gaze drifting across my body before a smile forms on his lips. He is wearing an all black suit, lapels crisp and smooth, with a single blood rose pinned above his heart. It mimics the read of my dress, the stain of my lips, the seduction in his eyes. He cocks his head slightly, dark hair falling over one of his beautifully arched eyebrows. 

I hold his stare, letting the bubbling pit of fire burn deeply in my stomach. The pit that forms when he looks at me, seated low and hot. The pit that would cackle and seethe if he would touch me, if his pale hands would settle on my hips and his lips would touch the shell of my ear, whispering sweet nothings and dirty everythings into my ear. Snaking my tongue between my lips, I watch as Aleksander tracks the motion, his posture straightening ever so slightly. 

And then Kaz is there. In my line of vision. 

The fire sputters out, replaced by something else. Something that grips my lungs and forces my heart to beat faster. His suit is a deep navy, bringing out the smooth pearl of his skin and accenting the night of his hair. He looks like a shooting star, dark and light at the same time. I wonder who picked it out for him, or if he selected it himself. I can’t imagine Kaz in a tailor’s shop, trying on suits and drinking bourbon with the upper elites with him. 

But then again, maybe I can. He is a business man after all. And great at faking it. 

Kaz catches my stare, tipping his head up in greeting before disappearing into the crowd. Nina and Nik dissolve from my side as well, going to observe and mingle before the drama begins. Alina is the only one left next to me, her golden dress sparkling in the chandelier light. She turns to me and sets her hand on my arm gingerly, sun earrings dangling from her ears. 

“Be careful,” she whispers. “He’s not who you think he is.” 

I open my mouth, about to ask her what she means before her hand is gone, and so is she. I watch her move into a group of people, hugging a man in a dark gray tuxedo from behind before giving him a kiss. Must be Mal. I don’t feel right, especially after what Alina said to me. I feel like something is amiss, but I don’t know what. 

I spot Kaz again, whispering something to Inej along the back wall. Her dark eyes drift to me, cementing the feeling in place. 

Alone, I cross the space to Alek. I had seen him twice since our fateful coffee date and both times had been very formal and full of business. Full of me trying to help him get his light back. Through some sort of grand scheme, it seems. One that required me to also recruit Nik, Alina, and Zoya to help Alek while seeming like they are helping Kaz. Sort of like a double agent, except I don’t know which side I want to be standing on at the end. 

“How are you?” Alek asks, tone casual to an untrained ear, but clipped enough for me to hear the true question behind his words. 

“Something’s wrong,” I respond under my breath before I loudly declare my happiness.

He lets his gaze linger on my face for a moment, schooling his features into neutrality. 

“Can you handle it?” 

“I’m not sure,” I admit, dropping my fake smile. “I might need help.” 

Vague enough, but he clearly gets the message, rolling his shoulders before giving me a dazzling grin. Alek reaches a long arm to stop the waiter passing by, grabbing two flutes of sparkling gold champagne and extending one to me. As if this is only our second time meeting. As if we both happened here by incident and he is looking to get lucky.

“I could never refuse such a beautiful woman.” 

I return his smile, throwing back the entire drink for some liquid courage. It tastes sweet and fizzy against my tongue, a faint acidity coating the roof of my mouth. Alek takes a long and thoughtful sip of his own champagne, much more graceful than me and folds my arm into the crook of his elbow. He begins to lead me from the ballroom, towards the Crow’s meeting spot. I look behind my shoulder, searching for their familiar faces. But all I see is Nina, already watching, her eyes focused intently on the joining of my arm with Alek’s while she pretends to listen to Nik, whose lips are moving with passionate fervor. Her mouth parts ever so slightly as she catches my eye. 

“Careful,” Alek mutters, forcing me to turn my head back in front of me. 

Dread and fear coil in my gut. I have never seen Nina look that way. I have never seen her look at me and not see me. I still don’t spot any of the other Crows at their reported positions around the room, where they were supposed to stay until I could get Alek alone and before I could lead Kaz to Alek and they could duel it out and I could decide who to side with then.

 I swallow, mind racing, trying to calm myself by believing that there’s a reason for their absence. 

 Alek seems to sense my trepidation, holding my arm a bit tighter as we meander from the crowded room into a near empty hallway. 

“Something’s wrong,” I repeat, trying to unravel everything quickly. Too quickly. 

Kaz, pushing everyone into this heist with such force. The others, more quiet than usual, less pressing for Kaz to give them details. Kaz, letting me teach him to drive, letting himself be vulnerable for me. Inej, barely talking to me a week into our plan. Nina, completely open and honest and warm until she saw me with Alek. Jesper, less happy than usual, less enthusiastic, more solemn and quiet, often excusing himself when I came into the room. And Wylan, always seeming to be off rekindling his relationship with his father. 

I didn’t need to help them with appearances at all. 

When fear arrives, something is about to happen. 

“It’s a trap,” I breathe, clenching my jaw and letting my stomach pit out inside of me. 

“I know,” Alek replies, cool and distant. 

My blood turns to ice. “What do you mean, “I know”?” 

He doesn’t respond, turning right down the hallway that leads to a back patio exit, and not to the left, to that private seating area where the Crows were supposed to be waiting. Alek increases his pace ever so slightly, giving me a glazed and lusted look when people come out of the rooms to pass us by, too high or drunk or exhausted to care. 

I try to stamp down the panic in my bones. How could I be so stupid? How could I get so caught up playing both sides that I didn’t see what was right in front of me? This is not the part where things are supposed to go wrong. I am supposed to get to choose. I am supposed to see them interact, gauge my feelings, myself, my words, and decide which side I want to be on. If I want to be a Raven or a Crow. If I want to be crime or creation. Of course, Alek is one step ahead. And so is Kaz. 

“We need to be more casual, less uptight,” Alek states as he pushes through the glass doors leading into the large mansion courtyard at the end of the corridor. “If any of them are watching, they’ll hurry things along if they sense we’re onto them.” 

“I think they already know,” I swallow, the night air turning cold and bitter. We hover on the cramped patio for a moment, not descending the small set of stone stairs into the gardens beyond. I can hear voices from inside, music drifting about, people laughing and heavy breathing from behind bushes. I wish I could have gone to this party with no other intentions than for fun. 

Maybe in a different life.  

“Doesn’t hurt to try,” Alek shrugs. 

And then I am up against the thin black railing behind me, Alek’s hands settling into the curve of my hips. I can feel his warmth through the satin of my dress, bleeding fire into my skin, my heart, my core. He licks his lips and pushes me tighter against him. Our bodies are flush in all of the right places; hard and soft in all of the right places. 

“Kiss me, Cataleya,” he baits me, voice low and raspy. 

He doesn’t have to say it twice. 

I surge forward, his lips plush and velvet against mine. He smells like winter, like snow and frosty tree branches and endless starry nights. I grew up with this smell, revelled in it, fell in love with it. His dark hair brushes against my forehead, the strands so soft and gentle in a way I had never known Alek to be. He is always pushing, moving, plotting. 

He reminds me of Kaz in that way. 

Kaz. 

Alek’s tongue slips along mine, sparks flying and thundering in my ears. Haven’t I wanted him like this for so long? Haven’t I imagined what this would feel like since our first kiss, being barely a peck? Haven’t I dreamed that he would want me? That he would have me in the way I desired? 

So why is this falling so flat now? 

Kaz. 

The voice reverberates through me, like a Crow picking from a dead body, peeling flesh from bone until I am stripped bare. My head begins to pound, a dull ache in the base of my skull. Alek runs his fingers up my bare arms, drawing goosebumps in his wake until I am shivering beneath him. 

“Cataleya,” he murmurs, deep and throaty. 

The old feeling returns, the burning desire, the expectant eyes. The little girl waiting for her master to approve. The little girl waiting for someone bigger, someone better, to grab her hand and drag her from the dirt. I feel ridiculous for not being able to squash it down, to tamper it. I don’t know if that feeling would ever die. The feeling of dependence. Of unworthiness. 

Alek seems as if he’s about to say something, but his head whips to the side. I follow the movement, the stone of dread in my stomach sinking deeper when I realize the courtyard has gone quiet around us. Not a single sound from behind the bushes, not a giggle or a whisper or a moan. Too quiet. The sound of death. 

The headache threatens to split my brain a part, eyes blurring as I watch Alek attempt to stumble down the stairs. He gets one step in before a figure blocks his path. My breathing becomes laborious, squinting through black spots clouding my vision before I can see who it is. 

Wylan. 

His suit is a forest green, dark velvet tailored for his tall lanky frame. The color perfectly offsets the ruddiness of his hair and his shoes are a deep brown leather, squeaky clean and new. Leave it to Kaz to outfit all of the Crows with his endless bank account. 

“I’m sorry,” Wylan says, face truly betraying some measure of regret. 

The pieces click together, like a lock sliding into place. 

He hasn’t been working with his father all these weeks. He has been working on something else entirely. Something that would take lots of time, lots of care, and lots of studying. When Nina said those things I thought she was talking about how he was mending the relationship with his father. She was not. And not just that, but his studies most likely required more than himself for success. Probably Leoni, the incredibly kind and intelligent biochemical engineering major who Kaz sometimes recruited for special missions that required more stealth, less blood. 

Wylan was studying poison. 

And we had ingested it from the champagne. 

----

My head is throbbing when I come to, the sound of a car engine roaring in my ears. I don’t know how I got here. All I remember is Alek, his hands on me, his warmth leaving me to spin me into the arms of someone else. The shaved hair, the deep brown eyes, the palor of his skin, the stability of his grip around my waist. Then Alek again, his lips on mine, my back against the wall.

 I force myself to swallow, trying to see anything through the blindfold at my eyes. I am still in my dress, the silk smooth on my skin, and I can feel the car coming to a stop as I struggle to find the strength to say something. 

My bones feel like liquid, muscles weak and shaking. But Alek had been the only one who offered me a drink, he had been the only one I trusted enough to gulp heartily. Wylan. I remember Wylan. Standing at the ledge of the stairs in the courtyard. Me and Alek. 

Poisoned. 

The car’s back door opens and I feel a rush of the cold night air as two gloved hands drag me by my feet from the vehicle and out onto the street. Dread coils in my stomach and my skin pricks with goosebumps, the cobble stones ripping at my exposed ankles and arms. After being dragged a few hundred feet, hissing at the burn of scapes and tearing on my skin from the uneven street, I am forced onto my knees.  I don’t feel right. Nothing feels right. Where is Kaz? 

As if in answer, the blindfold is yanked down my face from behind, my eyes blurring and struggling to adjust to the dark light of my surroundings. I am in an alley, wedged between two buildings built of collapsing brick. I can hear the faint whiz of cars, but in front of me is only a few hundred paces of the alleyway and then trees. I am not being brought here to talk. It’s too secluded. Too quiet. And the smell, bark and sap and something else… I clench my jaw. 

A shadow fills my periphery and I struggle to stay up on my knees as a figure takes shape in front of me. The navy suit, clean white shirt, the black leather gloves, the hard lines of his jaw and set of his eyes. I know why I am here. I know what this is. His stare is furious, rage and ice and merciless vengeful eyes boring into mine. 

He made the choice for me.

“Kaz,” I rasp, voice cracking and broken. 

He snarls at his name from my mouth, shoving me up into the nearest building. I stumble in my heels, his movements fast and forceful enough to drive my back into the wall with no problem. The rough edges of the brick dig into my back, clawing at my skin. This is nowhere near the last experience I had against a wall, with Alek. Caressing me, kissing me, igniting me. I try to stay calm. I try to think. But all I can see is Kaz’s face in front of me, burning with hatred and disdain as he rams me harder into the unforgiving bricks. 

I try to hold in my scream as a knife plunges into my side from one of the roofs above, deep and intense pain bursting through me. I don’t know who threw it, I don’t know how many of them are up there and how many stayed behind. I don’t know how long they’ve been in on it, I don’t know if Kaz has been aware the entire time. But I do know that now he knows, they all do. And that I won’t be leaving here alive. 

I can’t move enough to take the knife from my side, the hilt small, but the blade curved and lodged deep above the bone of my hip. Blood seeps through my dress, the red becoming impossibly darker, and the drip drip of the liquid pings against the stone street as it runs down my legs. It’s the only sound between us besides my ragged breathing, pained and desperate. 

“This was all a test of loyalty,” he says evenly. “You failed.”

And I would die for it. 

Kaz’s hands close around my throat, gaze steely and intent. I try not to panic, my jaw locking and lungs constricting with the pressure of his grip. The warmth of the blood continues spreading and soaking through my side, red and sticky and filling my nostrils with the scent of copper. I can already barely breathe, trying and failing to make it through the pain. It makes sense how loose Kaz’s lips had been with me, all the questions he had asked to try and taunt me, to reveal my relationship to Alek, how he let me teach him; he thought I would be a dead woman soon. And dead women don’t spill secrets. Or give lessons beyond the grave.

“We knew it was you all along,” Kaz says in my face, tone even as he chokes me. “Funny. You didn’t even know he was here until we flushed him out for you. Until we set up that date and watched you become the person we suspected you were. Until you crawled back to him and pretended he was the only light in the pit of darkness that’s been your life.” Kaz’s gloved fingers are hot against my pulse and his hair is falling down his forehead, sides freshly shaved. I can see every prick of stubble along his chin, see the muscles feathering in his jaw. I’ve never been this close to him before. Not even in the car. A day that felt so long ago. Like a lifetime. 

“Don’t you know why we scouted you in the first place? We knew he would try to ruin us from the inside out and use you to do it, it was only a matter of time. But that game can be played by both sides.” His voice is low, a snarl that roars in my ears, my side throbbing. “Nikolai, Alina, Zoya… you thought that you were bringing in new recruits to then turn against us. We had them first. They were always Crows, not one of Aleksander Morosova’s ravens. They have even more of a reason to want revenge on him than I do. And I’ll bet they’re being even less pleasant with him than I am with you right now.” 

A pit burns inside of me, low and feral, deepening with each of his words. 

“But even before that, I wanted you.” 

And I know, at the tenor of his voice, it’s not the kind of want that I would ever seek. At how his voice drops, so no one else can possibly hear, that I will not like what he is going to say. 

“I wanted you the moment I saw you and your father’s face in the news. When I heard what he did to your mother even though no one would believe he could have done it. I knew he did.” He is seething, spitting on me as he goes on. “I knew that he was capable of ordering violence. Of committing it and buying people’s silence. I could see it in his eyes, I could see it in the way he held you against him. Possessive and consuming.”

I have gone completely still, the very blood in my veins seeming to stop, the pulsing at my side ebbing into a dull ache. His words are in a bubble, trapped between our lips. Each syllable pops and rebuilds it, over and over. Trapping me, over and over. 

“I didn’t leave the day they came to kill Jordie.” He continues, “I thought something was wrong, for him to force me out the way he did. I hid on the roof of our building and climbed down the stairs of the fire escape a few hours later. Then I saw him. Your father. Positioning my brother’s body on our couch, I saw him take the bloodied knife and place it on the floor, beneath Jordie’s fingers. I watched as he cleaned off any fingerprints, stole away any evidence. He had no blood on him and by the two men that stumbled onto the street and disappeared down an alley, I knew he hadn’t done the actual act...

“But what’s worse? Following an order for murder or sanctioning it?” 

I feel tears slipping down my cheeks, dropping like flies on Kaz’s gloves. 

“I followed him. Learned everything I could. I learned that he had been involved with an underground drug operation for decades. That my parents had been in debt with them due to some bad decisions in my dad’s twenties. And that your father had been sent to collect or kill. To send a message to the other debtors. Little did your father know that the victims had two children, that they escaped. And that they would be coming for him.” 

The air around me turns infinitely colder, everything still and quiet except Kaz’s voice. 

“I watched you too.” He continues, fingers losing their grip a bit on my throat. “I watched to see who you would be. If we would indeed become enemies, as our parents were. I observed you grow with Morosova, how he controlled you, how he led you away all those years, how he kept you quiet and kept you in the dark so you would never find out the truth and be killed, like your mother was.” 

His words stab me deeper than the knife, my heart in ribbons. Hearing him confirm my darkest fears unleashes the worst parts of me, the parts I tried so hard to keep hidden. Terrified. Insecure. Silent. Obedient. The little girl with an abusive father and dead mother. I hadn’t been her in so long, but Kaz is stripping me down. Shredding me. 

 Kaz’s voice drops lower, as if he’s telling me a horrible secret. “He knew about it, Cataleya. Aleksander,” he purrs the name like a curse, “he knew everything. His father was one of the men your father ordered to kill Jordie. Who was a part of the team dispatched to eradicate those who didn’t pay, eradicate my parents. Your parents were working together, how fitting that you and Aleksander would, as well. Fate is funny that way.” 

The world shatters around me, broken and splintering into a million pieces. Alek knew. He sat there and listened to me while I cried about my mother, how I had desperately wanted his help to look into what happened. He had warned me to want anything was to give myself up. That the only way for me to find peace was to move forward and never look back. That if I continued to want for closure, I would never find it.

 “The problem with wanting is that it makes us weak.” He had said, over and over. 

How ironically true that had become. 

Kaz isn’t done. He continues to pick at me, the Crow in him unable to stop, his dark eyes burning with hate. “Where your own father failed, Aleksander’s father succeeded. He remembered seeing pictures in my house, of me and of Jordie. He remembered that there were two boys. And when I killed him by placing a bomb under his car to be rigged as an oil problem, his son stepped into the role to finish what his father started. To silence me too. But he didn’t and for me, for Jordie, I swore I would destroy them, brick by brick.” 

My breathing is coming out in short rasps, eyes blurred with tears of anger and embarrassment and white hot pain. I have been played. So horribly. By everyone in my life. Lied to. By every single person I had known. Even Alek. Alek, who had been the one person I thought would save me. Would be the one in the end to stand by me, to see me, to understand me. But he didn’t. He never did. He used me. Just like my father did. To be a sweet, obedient girl. 

In the few months I had known Kaz, he has seen more of me than Alek ever did. 

All we ever wanted, me and Alek and Kaz, was to feel safe and be loved. But we never trusted anyone enough to be either. So we fought and resisted and pushed. Into darkness. 

A whistle sounds from above, quick and melodic. Inej. Signaling Kaz that he needs to hurry. That enough is enough. But I can see it in his eyes. The hardness. The black pits of revenge and hatred and loathing he feels when he looks at me. It would never be enough. This retribution that he savored for years will never last as long as he wishes it to. I want to wither away into nothing under his stare. Not enough. Not his. Never his. Never a Crow.

“I know you love him,” he whispers so none of the others lurking can hear. “I know he’s the one who saved you. But he used you, Cataleya. He controlled you. You could’ve been so much better, so much bigger. It’s a shame the apple never falls far from the tree.”

I wish it had been you to save me instead. I think, shoving the words down my constricted throat. Maybe if it were Kaz, all those years ago, then things wouldn’t have gotten so messed up. Then maybe I would have been more like Inej, graceful, strong, full of more purpose than what Alek gave me. Maybe I could have meant something. To someone. To the Crows. 

But Kaz didn’t find me. Alek did. Alek led me from the garden and held my hand. Alek stroked my hair and told me it would be okay. That I would be okay. Alek raised me to be unforgiving, to scheme and stab people in the back to fill the empty hole in my life. Control. Kaz had said. How he controlled me. How he deceived me. With love. Love. Fake. Love. Fake love. I want to cry or scream at all of them, shaking with rage. I have been a pawn this whole time. 

“We are all controlled by something.” I push out, my voice weak. 

I try to swallow and fail at the reapplied pressure of Kaz’s palms, drool and spit bubbling from my lips. The alley wall is hard against my back, the night sky black and endless above me. The smog cover is so thick I can’t see the stars, despite the bright spots beginning to dance in my vision. I feel something prick at my spine with the pressure of my position like a silent reminder, mind sharpening and resolve strengthening. Love or no love. I have to finish what I started. I have to complete my assignment. Even if it isn’t one from Kaz. 

Even if it is from a liar. 

Lies are all I have known. 

All I have to hold on to. 

I can’t be saved. From darkness. My own or from others. I have waded too deep, gone too far. I may not be a true Raven, but I am definitely not a Crow. No matter how much I wish I could be. No matter how much I came to appreciate them, to care for them, to trust them. 

Trust is the most dangerous weapon of all. 

Slipping my hands behind my back as if I am trying to scramble against the wall, I reach for the cool metal of the blade attached along the zipper of my dress, letting out a choking cry to cover the unsheathing of my knife. The movement burns my side, ripping open my wound further to pour more blood. It runs over Kaz’s dress shoes, stains my legs. I am losing it too quickly, too much of it ebbing from me at once. Kaz’s hands press harder to my throat, forcing me, willing me, begging me to die now that his speech is over. I know he doesn’t enjoy this. I know he doesn’t relish in murder. Neither do I. 

But love is love.

Control is control. 

And business is business. 

Kaz would agree on that. 

“If I’m going down, Kaz,” I begin, voice barely a whisper. “You’re coming with me.” 

Without wasting another second, I shove the tip of my knife deep between Kaz’s ribs, watching his face contort in pain and dark eyebrows shoot up in surprise, then furrow in agony. Almost immediately, I hear a scream tear from somewhere on the roofs above and feel a pang of sorrow course through me. Inej just watched me stab the love of her life. Inej, the strong, graceful warrior who had been through more than all of us. She had screamed. Wailed.

I hear her words echo around my brain. The autumn leaves. Her cream sweater. The weight of her stare. “Some people just can’t be saved. But we love them anyway.”  

My sight falters.

 Kaz’s grip on my neck loosens, then completely disappears as he stumbles back and I fall towards the concrete without him holding me in place. An arrow pierces my shoulder from above, Jesper no doubt. With that incredible skill for landing true. The impact pushes me forward into Kaz’s already falling body, his white tux shirt now stained with blood. 

The world spins, my head making hard contact with the street. 

“This action will have no echo.” The rough words leak from Kaz’s lips, voice faint and faraway. If I could cry now I would, remembering the meaning of those words that Inej had told me just days ago. We would repeat nothing now. No more harm. To ourselves or others. This is our repentance. Our forgiveness.

Kaz is close to me, for I can feel the warmth of his body and the slick of his blood as it mixes with mine and stains the concrete.

If someone told me nine years ago, when I buried that cat and found my mother buried instead, that this is where I would end up, I wonder how differently my life would have been. I wonder if I would have chosen a different path. One full of forgiveness and happiness. The one of creation instead of crime. Instead of revenge and retribution. The weight of those decisions hang over me like a cloak, protecting and exposing me at the same time. Using the last bits of my strength, I turn my head to the side to look at him. 

Kaz is on his back beside me, so close that I can reach out and touch him. Touch his hand that is limp with resignation, his side that is red with blood, his lips that are white with death. He is the most beautiful man I have ever seen. Even as a small line of blood trickles from the corner of his lips and pings onto the stones. I let my eyes close, pretending the stars behind my eyelids belong to the sky and not to the Grim Reaper. Pretending the stars are his eyes.

We’ve all had hard lives. We’ve all taken on assignments that were too big for us. We’ve all done things we regretted and we all leaned on each other too much for our own good while leaning on no one at all. We all let the ghosts of our pasts haunt us into our future. Especially Kaz. And that’s the problem with trusting ghosts, in the end you become one. 

You become transparent, empty, without an echo. 

“No mourners.” I manage to mumble into the night. 

“No funerals.” A disembodied voice murmurs back, but I’m not sure who it belongs to. 

And then there is nothing but darkness. 

---

~Admin Eggplant

[spiderman-homecomeme]

day two - i found

SOULMATE AU

A/N: Here we are!! day 2!! I have been having so much fun looking at what everyone’s created! our fandom is so talented!! now, i have made it no secret how i feel about soulmate aus (lmao) but I found myself really enjoying working on this one! the title is based off of the song by Amber Run!

Again thank you so much @spideychelleweek​ for organizing this!!

And a HUGE thank you to @machiavelien​ for creating such a beautiful work of art to go with this story!!! You are amazing!! Find it here.

So, without further ado, here is an 8.6k (phew) colorblind soulmate au filled with fluff, angst, and love!

Read here or on AO3 

-

                                                              i.

The words of the textbook melt and warp together, his brain unable to focus on the convoluted phrase structure long enough to take in any of the information. 

So far, studying for that first decathlon meet in Philly has been going… not too well.

Peter tugs at the sleeves of his hoodie—the one May so graciously marked with a label that reads “blue”—before pulling the hood down over his eyes. He takes a deep breath, a moment to try and reset, before pulling it back, the brightness of the gray and white room almost blinding. 

At the beginning of the spring semester, he’d figured he could get a good change of pace by going to the library for his free seventh period everyday instead of his usual, the empty band room. Maybe studying in a place that specifically promotes concentration and learning would prove to be much more helpful. 

For the most part, it’s worked for him. He’s able to at least get half a page in until recently.

Now, his mind starts to drift to the girl in black and gray sitting at the table across from him. 

He knows Michelle, mostly from Acadec. Sometimes he passes her in the hallway on the way to Advanced Physics, and she’s been in a handful of the same classes as him since the beginning of high school. Sometimes she makes funny comments—usually under her breath—during lectures, and he has to either keep himself from snickering, or take a moment to try and understand whatever she just said. When he greets to her in between decathlon practice and meets, she most of the time only offers a tight-lipped smile and nod in return. 

But while he knows who she is, and while he certainly sees her a lot, he still doesn’t know her. 

This—both of them sitting in the library during 7th period right before practice—has happened a lot more often since the beginning of the new semester. Michelle’s always sitting in that same spot, nose stuck in what seems like a different book every other day. Peter’s not sure if he’s really coming here every day because it’s a good study spot, because he always somehow gets distracted by the fact that he has the best opportunity to make a brand new friend. His own thought process here becomes a bit too distracting.

So, he decides that he needs to make a change. 

Peter wants to get to know Michelle. Maybe get a laugh or two out of her. Be her friend. 

The next day, at the same free period during seventh hour, he pushes the doors open to the library. His eyes fall on the same sight; the same students sitting in their same places, Michelle included. 

He moves to her table, yet his pace slows the closer he gets as his nerves get the best of him. He hasn’t really thought of what he wants to say, or even how he wants to go about this. It isn’t like this is all that difficult in theory. Michelle is just a person; not someone that he should be afraid to talk to. 

In his internal monologue, Peter hasn’t realized he’s made it to her table. She clears her throat, knocking him out of his thoughts. 

“Hey, Michelle,” he says, startled, still trying to get his bearings. 

“Uh… hey. Peter,” she offers, thumb tapping against the pages of her book as she glances from side to side. “What’s up?”

“Can…” Peter breathes, still not sure where this question is going. “Is anyone sitting here?” He asks dumbly. 

MJ’s expression remains impassive, though her eyes narrow the slightest bit. “Yeah.”

Peter’s mouth forms into a small ‘o’ as he rocks back in his heels, now unsure as to what he should be doing. “Uh, cool. Nevermind.”

But quickly, MJ shakes her head, seeming to be just as ansty as he is. “I’m kidding. Just—Just messing with you.” She gives a faint, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it grin before looking down at her book again. 

“Oh.” Peter lets out a breathy chuckle. “So…” He points to the chair. “I—I can sit here?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah. Sure.”

Peter slowly pulls out the chair across from her, his movements deafeningly loud in the quiet of the library. He throws a sheepish grin over his shoulder as he sits, gently dropping his things on the ground beside him. 

For a moment, they sit in silence, Michelle reading and Peter… well, Peter not knowing what to do with himself. He pulls out his physics book, ready to study again, mulling over some possible conversation topics in his head as he cracks it open. He doesn’t want to seem too nosey, so he refrains from thinking of anything too personal.

He returns to his bag, grabbing his notebook, seeing the bag of pretzels he had packed this morning for an afternoon snack. Peter pulls that out too, setting it on the table and opening it. 

They sit in silence for a while longer, Peter quietly munching on his salty snacks. He can feel Michelle glance up at him every so often, and he immediately feels himself warm under her fleeting gaze. 

He looks up at her, mumbling a ‘sorry’ as he tries to quiet his chewing, still struggling to come up with something—anything—to talk about. 

She waves him off, the corners of her mouth quirking downward into a slight, unbothered frown. 

“You want some?” He asks after another beat, holding out his ziploc bag. 

And again, Michelle’s gaze shifts to his for the briefest of moments, her cheek resting against her knuckles. At first, she doesn’t say anything, only lowering her book the slightest bit. But then, she reaches out, taking a pretzel. 

“Thanks,” she mumbles. 

“You’re welcome,” Peter says almost as quietly. 

And they sit like that for the rest of seventh period, reading and munching on pretzel sticks in an awkward, yet not entirely uncomfortable silence. It’s not much, but Peter can’t help but feel that it’s a step forward in their friendship. 

They’re both so content in their sharing that they don’t notice when they reach at the same time for the same piece. His hand brushes hers, a fleeting touch before they both pull back immediately, both of them apologizing. Yet, as quickly as it had ended, Peter swears he can still feel the warmth of her fingertips. 

And when he looks up to meet her gaze, he’s sure she can still feel the coolness of his. 

He clears his throat in an effort to mask his nervous chuckle. When the final bell rings, he’s unsure of whether or not he considers himself saved. Sure, from further embarrassment yes, but he finds himself wanting the hour to keep going.

Still, as much as he wants to get to know Michelle, he can’t help but feel that they’ll be just fine.

                                                              ii.

“MJ?” Peter asks through a mouthful of popcorn as they lay on the living room floor of his aunt’s apartment, staring up at the ceiling. 

“Yeah?” She asks, not fully tilting her head towards him, curiosity piqued. 

“What’s your favorite color?”

She just manages to muffle the snort of laughter that escapes her, quickly glancing at at a sleeping Ned on the couch, making sure her sudden outburst didn’t wake him. Turning her attention back to Peter, her face is scrunched. “What?”

She almost thinks that he’s joking. He has to be. 

“What’s your favorite color?” He repeats earnestly.

“Dude, you remember that neither of us has a soulmate yet, right? The only colors we can actually see are gray, white, and black. That’s only three options.”

“Yeah, I know, but—” Peter sits up on his elbows. “—Like… what do you think your favorite color is?”

MJ follows, staring at him incredulously. 

“Okay okay okay,” he relents before a pause, his expression calculating as he tries to find a way to better explain himself. He sits upright, arms rested on his knees as he takes another moment’s contemplation. “Like—we know about certain colors, right? Because there are other people we know who have found their soulmates. May and Ben, your sister and her husband, and now… Ned and Betty. And they—they know what everything looks like. They see every single color. So, I dunno, we’ve heard a lot about them. We may not be able to see them, but…” 

He looks up to find MJ still staring at him, though it’s a softer look, not as harsh and confused. “We can try to understand them,” she nods. 

“Exactly!” Peter says, smile returning. “So, like—I think my favorite color would be red.”

“Red?” MJ asks. 

“Yeah. May’s always talked about how it was her and Ben’s favorite color. And when she tells me about it, I dunno, I’m just kinda drawn to it, I guess.” He shrugs. “I think it’s because it’s a color that’s attached to a lot of really intense emotions? Like, yeah, anger’s one of them, but it’s also love and—and… passion, and... It’s just bold. Ned says it’s like a really warm, really hot color.”

“You’ve really thought a lot about this, huh?” MJ watches him, the corner of her mouth turning upward. 

“Yeah…” Peter’s smile turns timid, sheepish even, as he scratches the back of his neck. “It’s—It’s weird I know. Forget I asked—”

“—No.” MJ stops him. “No, it’s fine.” 

Peter nods in understanding.

A beat passes. 

“I think blue would be mine.” MJ says softly. 

“How come?” Peter asks in a barely audible voice. 

She sits in silence for a moment before speaking again. “Well, everyone always says that the ocean’s blue, the sky’s blue… that it’s a really calming color. This one website I read said that it represented calmness and tranquility. Wisdom, too.” 

“You’ve thought about it, too?” Peter asks hopefully. 

MJ gives a single, slow nod. “I’ve done some googling in my spare time.”

“Cool,” Peter grins. “What do you think it’s like when you kiss your soulmate?” 

The faint scoff that comes out of his friend causes his stomach to do a tiny flip. “You haven’t heard Ned talk about it enough?” MJ cracks a smile, shaking her head. 

“Well, I mean, yeah…” Peter lets out a breathy chuckle. “But, like… I feel like it’s different for everyone, you know?”

She doesn’t answer right away. Another moment of true quiet passes as they both think. MJ sits up fully now, mirroring Peter’s seated position. 

“What do you think it’s like?” MJ throws the question back at him. 

Peter glances away, suddenly finding the skin on his thumb very interesting. “I dunno…” He mumbles with a shy shrug as he starts to play with the edge of the throw blanket. But he can feel MJ’s eyes on him, waiting and expecting, but still holding a certain gentleness to them. He sighs, letting his hands fall onto his knees again. “You know when you’re listening to this really amazing song, maybe a symphony or something, and it like—swells and crescendos to this beautiful chord—maybe with some dissonance and resolution in there? And you just get goosebumps, and you feel so warm and—”

“Like Tchaikovsky’s Romeo and Juliet?” MJ teases, just lightly. “The one that always plays in movies and TV shows?”

Peter huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, I guess you could say that one.” He’s quiet again, lips twisting in thought before his face lights up again. “Or like, when you’re reading a really good book, and you’re at the end, it’s happy, and everything’s working out and that makes you feel all warm and fuzzy? Maybe there was some bad stuff in the middle, but when you get to that point in the story, you know that everything’s gonna be okay, even if you don’t quite understand why? And then… when you open your eyes… the world just looks so different?”

“Wow, aren’t you a romantic,” MJ deadpans, though when Peter glances up at her, he can see the faint smirk tugging at her lips. She nudges him gently with her shoulder. “I’m kidding. Kind of. Still cheesy, but—” she pauses, shrugging. “It’s sweet. It sounds… It sounds nice,” she decides.

And once again, for the umpteenth time that night, Peter can only grin at her. “It does,” he agrees. “Do you think you’ll ever meet your soulmate?”

“Better question: do I even want to meet my soulmate?” MJ counters. 

“What do you mean?”

It’s MJ’s turn to feel the spotlight, and she does almost the exact same thing to distract herself. She picks at stray threads on the gray blanket. “I don’t know, I mean… I feel like this whole soulmate thing… I feel like it takes the choice out of it, if that makes sense?”

Peter tilts his head in confusion. 

“We’re supposed to have free will, right? As humans. I mean, we can debate on whether or not we actually have free will, but that’s not the point. But—” She pauses, tilting her head from side to side, weighing her words. “What if I never meet my soulmate? Do I just… wait for them until I’m dead? What if my soulmate doesn’t want to be with me? What if my soulmate is a terrible person? Do I have to be with them because they’re who fate, or the gods, or whatever higher power picked for me?”

“I don’t think your soulmate would be a terrible person, MJ.” 

“You don’t know that for sure,” she reasons.

“Your soulmate’s supposed to be perfect for you.”

“But what if I don’t want perfect?” She asks. “And what if… what if my soulmate dies in some tragic accident? Am I just doomed to never love again? Is my soulmate my one chance at true, controlled, measured happiness?”

Peter goes silent for a moment, brows pinched together, lips twisted in thought. “I guess I… I guess I never really thought about it that way.” He sighs. “But don’t you… Don’t you ever want to see what the world looks like not in black and white?”

“I mean, if I found the right person, I don’t think it’d matter what colors the world was or what I could or couldn’t see… as long as I had them, right?”

A small, teasing smile tugs at Peter’s lips. “Now who’s the romantic?”

“Shut up, loser.” MJ rolls her eyes.

“It’s so cute.”

“I swear to God—”

“—no really. Adorable.”

“I’m going to murder you—”

“—awww. Love you too, MJ.”

She lets out a long exasperated sigh, falling back onto the carpet, rubbing her eyes with her hands. The entire time, that same stupid, smug, teasing grin stays on Peter’s face; and honestly, he can’t help it. 

He also can’t help but feel that MJ has a point about this whole soulmate thing. Maybe she’s right. Maybe it’s not something that he should be striving for, not something he should really be all that worried about. 

With the right person, whoever they are, the world around them doesn’t matter. 

But still, there’s a part of him that knows he’ll always be curious about it. Who did the universe consider to be his ultimate match, his equal in every possible way? Would he ever meet them? What were they doing right this very moment? He also wonders if he’s already met this person, if he’s seen them in passing on the street. 

He thinks of all the chances he might have met this person, and he’s filled with this strange sense of anxiety. 

But again, maybe that’s why MJ was right about this; the very idea of the perfect person being out there for you proved only to be debilitating knowledge. In a way, he could see that it might keep someone from living their life to the fullest. They might miss out on meaningful, true relationships and friendships in order to make room for someone they might never have the chance of meeting, all to see the world in bright, vivid color. 

Besides, it’s really not something he needs to worry too much about. He’s got his friends and family; May, Mr. Stark even… Ned…

And MJ.

                                                             iii.

“Wanna hear something cool?” Ned asks MJ as they wait for the first five minute warning bell to ring before school starts. 

She looks up at him from behind her book, one brow quirked in his direction. “What?”

“Your sweater—” He looks down at her outfit. He pauses for dramatic effect. “It’s red.”

Her expression falls, and she stares at him, unimpressed. “Wow.”

It’s not like that trick’s getting old or anything. 

 “—And your shirt’s—”

“—Ned.”

Ned immediately shuts his mouth, though it’s easy to see the smile hiding. “My bad.”

“All good,” she says slowly, throwing a warning glare, though her eyes quickly soften—consciously or not, it’s not clear—when she sees they’re friend Peter enter the library. 

Ned and MJ exchange a knowing glance, understanding that today of all days is one where they have to really embrace this whole Peter Parker Protection Squad™ thing. They both know this day well; the anniversary of his Uncle Ben’s death is always hard. And every year, they are there for Peter. There to comfort him, to talk to him, to listen to him, or even just to be in the same room as him. Whatever he needs, they are more than happy to provide. 

So, when he acts completely normal, as if nothing’s wrong at all, they’re confused. 

He moves quickly and quietly, plopping his stuff down at the table with them wordlessly. He seems to notice the two pairs of eyes glued to him; he looks up, brow furrowed as he eyes them both carefully. “Uh, hey guys.”

Ned’s the first to speak. “Hey, man. How’re you doing?”

Peter’s gaze shifts left and right as he lets out a light scoff. “...Good?”

“Pete,” MJ cuts in, faint concern disguised under a veil of nonchalance. “You okay?”

Peter only seems to get more weirded out. “Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?”

Again, Ned and MJ exchange looks, neither of them really wanting to explicitly say it, lest they ruin his mood. 

Ned clears his throat, nudging MJ under the table. 

She wants to slap him, but she doesn’t, and instead turns again to Peter. “It’s just… we know that… today is usually… kind of a hard day.”

“Oh, uh… Yeah.” Peter’s expression falls for a split-second, before returning back to normal. He shakes his head. “No. Yeah. I’m fine. I’m fine.”

“You sure?” Ned asks, unsure himself.

MJ isn’t too convinced either. 

Peter gives a short, resolute sigh, pressing his lips together into a thin line. “Yeah. I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

But both Ned and MJ continue to worry throughout the rest of the school day. Peter just doesn’t seem himself. Yes, he’s acting positive, smiling and joking like he normally does, but they can both tell that something’s not quite right. There’s tension behind his eyes in every smile, like it pains him—even though he hides it well—to force such an expression. To anyone else, he might seem fine, just like he’d claimed to be this morning, but Ned and MJ—they know him better than anyone else. 

The two of them text back and forth throughout the day, making sure they’re both following the same set of rules they gave themselves. But Peter never gives them a reason to implement any of those rules. 

Finally, as the last bell rings, Ned and MJ talk at his locker. 

“I think you should try to go to Peter’s tonight.” He tries to say quietly, but just loud enough so that she can hear over the chatter of students. “I gotta work, but I’m gonna try to switch shifts with someone so I can show up later.”

MJ nods solemnly. “Got it.”

“I think May has to work late tonight, so he might be by himself,” Ned adds. “Not that anything bad’s gonna happen, but I dunno… He might like to have the company, you know?”

“I know,” MJ gives another understanding nod. “I’ll text you.”

Ned gives a single thumbs up, and they part ways. 

MJ only gives it about an hour and a half after school’s out to head over to Peter’s. She doesn’t text him or anything—as per usual—but she does debate on giving him some kind of heads-up. Before five, she’s at his apartment, climbing up to the seventh floor, her feet feeling as if they’re made of lead with every step she takes. 

She raps lightly on the door, three gentle knocks, and is met with radio silence. She knocks again, a little more insistent this time, the sound echoing hollowly in the building, and still no response. It’s then that she takes liberty, opening the door, surprised to find it unlocked. 

The apartment is quiet, save for the gentle hum of the dishwasher from the kitchen. MJ steps in, her footsteps leading her to the open living room. Her heart nearly snaps in half seeing Peter just sitting there, curled up by himself, staring into the cold fireplace. 

She stands there a moment, waiting to see if he’ll acknowledge her, to see if he’ll invite her to sit with him. 

But he stays silent, his lips pressing together tightly. 

“Hey,” She offers softly with a weak wave of her hand. 

Finally, Peter spares her a look, his eyes red-rimmed, his hair disheveled. The corners of his mouth twitch upward into another forced, anaemic smile. “Hi.”

She doesn’t ask how he’s doing, knowing that it’s not a very smart question at the moment. Instead, she asks, “Can I sit?”

Wordlessly, he scoots over for her, pulling the blanket wrapped around his shoulders with him. 

She lowers herself onto the couch, slowly, and for a long time, they only sit in silence. 

Eventually, Peter lets out a long, tired sigh. He leans forward. “I guess…” His voice is rough and raw from lack of use. He clears his throat. “I guess I just thought it would get easier, you know? And then… when it didn’t… I thought… well, maybe if I just fake it, if I pretend… then I can convince myself that it is, right?” He lets out a humorless laugh. “And clearly, it kinda backfired on me.”

MJ only nods, still listening. 

“And some days… it is easier. Most days, I’m fine. But then… everything just kinda… piles on all at once.” With a shake of his head, he sits back. “I don’t know, I guess… I guess I was thinking—or I guess trying to tell myself—that I was better, or that—that I was done? I don’t know. I mean, I know that it’s not going to be easy. At all.” He huffs, voice beginning to tremble. “I don’t even know if I’m making sense right now, I’m sorry—”

“—Peter, it’s okay,” MJ says, shifting so that she can face him on the couch. “It’s okay,” she repeats. “It’s—It’s okay to grieve. You don’t have to convince yourself that you’re done; that after a certain point, you have to stop. There’s no timeline for it.” MJ insists. “Believe me, I know it never gets easier, but it’s okay to allow yourself to miss him.” She grabs his hand. “It’s okay.”

Peter looks up at her, eyes brimming with unshed tears. His mouth twitches, his chin trembling violently as he gives her hand a hard squeeze. 

She squeezes his hand back. 

                                                            iv.

It’s a really dumb excuse, and Peter knows it. 

MJ definitely knows it. 

But it’s probably the only one he could even think of in the moment. There wasn’t a lot of time between the distant crashing, the loud wail of sirens, the police cars zooming by, and the panicked screams for him to come up with something a bit more believable.

No, “Uh… I have to go… Call my… aunt…” was probably in his top ten most piss-poor excuses to date. 

Really, nearly four years of being Spider-Man and he still doesn’t have this whole thing down.

Which is why MJ figured it out approximately less than four months into their friendship. 

But now, as she watches him lamely run away in the opposite direction of her, she can’t help but feel the slightest bit frustrated that he hasn’t figured out that she knows already. Sure, she doesn’t really need him to tell her, mostly because one, she already knows, and two, it’s his business. If he never wanted to tell her, fine. It wasn’t going to end their friendship. 

Honestly, though, she could do without the bad lies. 

At least try harder, dude. 

And then, there’s also the small part of her that always gets annoyingly worried at the idea that this idiot—her best friend—is constantly putting himself in danger. There’s this thought, this fear, every time he says his bullshit, every time he runs away to fight some bad guys, that he’s not going to come back at all. That she’s going to lose him. 

And that’s why, right then and there, she decides to follow him into the fire.

It might be just as stupid for her to do it as it is for him—given she doesn’t even have powers—she knows this… But again, it doesn’t stop her. 

It doesn’t take long to find the scene; all she has to do is follow the sound of lies and other bullshit, and maybe some of the shouting and what not. 

As it turns out, a small group of men had broken into a Jewelry store, but in their attempt to infiltrate the security system, one of the breakers had exploded, alerting absolutely everyone nearby. 

Spider-Man, of course, now in his gray and black suit, is there in no time. He webs up the leader first, blasting him in the face with a quick click of his webshooter. Two others try to sneak up on him, but Spidey leaps out of the way, webbing both goons before they can even find him again. 

The fourth guy sees his ever so slim chances of winning, weighing his options, before bolting for the door, but that masked vigilante’s faster. 

Once he’s got four out of five of the guys webbed up, he can see that the last one—the tech guy, he’s guessing—is nowhere to be found. 

MJ sees all of this, of course, from just outside the police perimeter, when out of the corner of her eye, she sees the last goon getting away. She makes a break for it, taking a shortcut through the alley to meet him at the next street. Something in her forces her to run faster, and she’s not sure what, but she knows that this has to work. 

She waits behind a corner, the fast approaching footsteps falling with the erratic hammering of her heart. Slowing her breath in an effort to calm herself, she waits. Along with the criminal, she can hear the thwip-thwip of Peter following, swinging from the rooftops above. He seems to have caught on as well. 

The man gets closer and closer, and quickly, MJ acts, sticking her leg out, tripping the runaway effectively. It’s an old, borderline cartoon-y trick, and honestly, she’s a little surprised it works so well. The man falls, groaning as he face plants into the asphalt below. 

Spidey drops down in front of him, instantly blasting him into a web cocoon. 

The masked hero turns. “Hey, great job, citizen—” His mechanical eyes widen when he looks up to see just who helped him out. “What are you doing here? I mean—” He at first demands, but then he remembers himself, clearing his throat. “What—Uh, what are you doing here, ma’am?”

“Was in the neighborhood. Hanging with a friend.” She replies, looking at her nails, the very essence of feigned nonchalance. “Then he ditched me, saying some dumb, bullshit excuse about how he had to go call his aunt. Have you seen him?”

She looks pointedly at him. 

His white, wide eyes narrow slightly. He brings a finger up to the side of his head. “Yeah. Yeah I got it.”

MJ rolls her eyes, knowing he’s probably talking to one of his superhero besties. 

Spider-Man continues to stare at her, and she stares right back.  

“M—Uh, ma’am.” He coughs. “Do you need a lift home?” 

MJ glances from left to right, her arms folding defensively across her chest. “Uh, no—”

Before she can add any sort of retort to the response, he’s scooping her up, leaping into the air and swinging the both of them away. 

“What the hell—” MJ shouts. “You’re just gonna leave that guy there?”

“Ms. Marvel’s got it,” He answers before letting go of the first web.

Her piercing screams go right into his ear as she clings for dear life to him. She doesn’t dare look at the ground below, instead burying her face into his shoulder, her eyes screwed shut as she waits for it all to just be over. No part of her even considers the idea of watching the world pass, of looking at the twinkling white city lights over blocks of dark gray and black. The wind whips around her violently with each swing, her hair flying in all directions as she begs Peter to put her down.

She’s just about gotten her bearings when he lands them on the rooftop of some nearby building. 

“You—You can’t just—! Do that!” She shouts at him, her voice shaky from all the screaming. 

He doesn’t waste any time as he rips off his mask. “What the hell were you thinking, MJ?”

She’s not even shocked seeing his face underneath, but she does take a step back when he moves to her. “What do you mean?” She shoots back defensively, arms folded across her chest. 

“You know what I mean!”

“I don’t see the problem here.”

“Are you crazy?” He groans in exasperation. “Putting yourself in danger like that? You could have been hurt!”

“Would you calm down?” She can feel the rising, white hot anger bubbling up in her chest, her throat feeling as if it’s been coated in barbed wire. “It’s not like it was one of your dumb Avengers-level bad guys. It was just some random guy.”

“That ‘random guy’ had a gun, MJ. What would you have done if he didn’t fall, or if I wasn’t there? Huh? You don’t have powers to keep you from getting hurt. What would you have done?”

Michelle stares back at him, mouth setting into a tight line.“I’m not a damsel in distress, Peter.”

“God, I know you’re not, but—” 

“You can’t control me, alright? And—” She groans in frustration, flexing her fingers. “If—if you don’t want me following you into stupid shit, then—then stop doing stupid shit!”

Her words give him pause. His gaze falls to the concrete, his jaw clenching as he releases a sharp exhale.

Another heavy silence falls.

When he finally speaks again, he struggles to bring his gaze to meet hers.

“MJ, please.” He roughly cards a hand through his hair. He takes a deep, shaky breath. When he looks up again, she can see the raw emotion in his face, the angry, pleading unshed tears threatening to fall. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten mad… But—but you can’t just… you can’t do that. Please. I don’t—I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you… It… It happened with… with… I can’t… I—God… if something happened to you...”

She sucks in a sharp breath, holding it, mouth parted slightly as she stands there, finding herself unable to speak.

“I can’t lose you, too.” He adds, his voice breaking. 

Instantly, she moves to him, and he crumples into her arms, his tears falling silently onto her black jacket. She wraps herself around him, holding him close. 

They stand there in silence, just holding each other. 

MJ squeezes him, pulling him even closer, as if he’d disappear if she let him go for even just a moment. “Pete, you’re not gonna lose me,” she murmurs into his neck.

He clings onto her even tighter in response, saying nothing. 

She shuts her eyes as she breathes with him, feeling her own tears falling down her cheek. Releasing a shaky sigh, she burrows herself into his shoulder, whispering, “You’ll never lose me.”

                                                              v.

Peter watches as the black liquid in his coffee slowly swirls into a much lighter gray. 

He adds more creamer when MJ’s not looking from her place at the tea bar, hoping that she doesn’t notice. Last time they’d gotten coffee together, she’d roasted him endlessly for how he took his international delight with a hint of actual coffee. 

She comes back to the table moments later, her own tea in one hand, her Italian notebook in the other. “Are you drinking milk?”

Damn.

“Shut up,” he pouts. 

“It’s okay,” she waves him off. “Coffee’s bad for children anyway. You’re just being smart.”

“Hey!” Peter sits back, mouth hanging open in offense. “I thought we were having a friendly, no nonsense study date.”

He tries not to stumble on that last word, and he succeeds (for the most part). Heat still rises to his face, burning his cheeks and the tips of his ears. 

She shrugs, taking a sip of her hot tea. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop messing with you.”

He’s not sure if he ever wants her to stop.

“I should’ve known…” He trails off, shaking his head in mock disappointment. 

“Okay!” MJ sets her mug down. “If you’re done complaining, we should get started on chapter six.” 

Peter rolls his eyes. “Whatever,” he laughs. 

“Cool, so—”

Her words are cut off by the abrupt vibrating of her phone next to her on the table. 

She picks it up, brow furrowing as she reads the text message.

Peter pretends not to notice, though he can’t help the way his eyes strain just the slightest bit. Of course, it would be a complete accident if he happened to see her screen. 

There’s a minor twitch in her face, a cringe almost, when she finishes reading. Before he can even ask, she’s back to normal, putting her phone face down on the table. “Sorry,” she says, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. 

“No, you’re good,” Peter says softly. He toys with the pencil in his hand, every so often glancing up at her to gauge her expression. 

His eyes ask the question he’s too scared to. 

“Harry,” she answers for him. “Wanting to… talk, I guess.”

“Oh.” Peter’s voice is barely audible. “Are you… Are you going to?”

MJ leans forward, bracing herself on her elbows. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. It’s just… I’m… Tired.” She lets out a half-hearted laugh.

Peter nods quietly, immediately understanding. 

After years of friendship, of the both of them constantly seeing other people, they had both thought Harry was the one for her. 

But, after a single kiss, nothing had changed, and he left. 

And now, he wanted to talk again?

Peter could see her frustration, her weariness. 

“He’s done this before… once. And he changed his mind. Just like the first time. I’m not dealing with that shit again,” she says, folding her arms and pulling them to her chest.

“No, I totally get it.”

She cracks a small, yet genuine smile. “I know you do.”

And he did know. In fact, the same had happened to him. He’d thought he’d found the one with Gwen, only for her to bail months into their relationship. After their first kiss, after the black and white stayed, she swore up and down that it didn’t bother her. 

But all along, all those months after, Peter knew that it did, deep down. 

Sure, Gwen didn’t give him the run around Harry was giving MJ, but it was still painful. 

And with his understanding, there’s this strange sense of… he’s not sure, relief? Relief that none of the people MJ’s dated in the past few years have been her “soulmate.” No one’s been deemed her complete match yet. There was always this knot in his stomach when she’d go out with someone like Brad or Felicia, and then he’d find himself feeling as if the weight was lifted when she’d come home, still seeing in shades of black and white. 

He wondered if she ever felt the same. 

He tries not to think about that particular feeling throughout the rest of their study-date. Of course, that proves to be extremely difficult, given what she means to him. 

He’d be an idiot and a liar if he said he hadn’t had some form of crush on MJ throughout their friendship. That was all it was to him. A dumb, silly crush on his best friend. One that would go away as time went on. 

But the more he thinks about it, sitting here, the more he realizes how they just… make sense. What, with their long, close history, the intimate secrets and moments shared between them, all of it. He honestly, truly, cannot picture any sort of life without her. 

And then there had been all those times that Ned would joke about Peter and MJ being soulmates, calling them “PJ,” poking fun at their close friendship. To all of that, the both of them had vehemently denied any sort of romance between them. 

It didn’t make sense. 

But now, years later, both of them older and a little wiser...

It made sense. 

All of those people they’d dated, and nothing ever working out. It had to be. All these years they’ve been searching and waiting—even though neither or them would admit that this soulmate stuff even mattered to them at this point—and all along, it was right in front of them. 

And here he is, sitting across from her in a gray scale coffee shop, not able to hear her drilling questions over the sound of himself thinking about how much he likes being with her.

MJ’s right in front of him.

And it hits him then as she gently smacks his arm, telling him to pay attention, to stop staring, and she calls him loser...

He’s stupidly in love with Michelle Jones. 

MJ.

His best friend. 

Suddenly, after such a revelation, he finds that speaking is damn near impossible. He sputters, apologizing (somewhat, he can’t really get coherent words out), and she gives him this funny look that he can’t quite identify, and it brings about this fluttering in his heart that he can’t quite explain.

It’s a moment he wants painted forever in his mind. 

But then, they go back to studying, the moment is gone just as quickly as it had appeared, and  Peter is forced to sit on this new information he’d just gathered only ten seconds before. 

That night, Peter paces the carpeted floor of his apartment, beating himself up for not realizing any of this—any of his feelings for MJ—sooner. His first thought is that he’s too late. She couldn’t have felt anything for him now, at this point in their friendship, right? They couldn’t have both been so stupid and blind to each other’s feelings. 

If there was any chance for them to become more than friends, it was certainly gone by now. 

Sleep doesn’t come that night. He tosses and turns, haunted by the teasing, adorable toothy grins; quiet snorts of laughter or the quiet, deadpan stares whenever he does something stupid; curls falling in her face as she looks down to hide a smile. 

And now, Peter’s not sure how he’s ever going to function normally around her ever again. 

The next day, he finds her at the campus library, in her own little corner, legs tucked under her body as she reads quietly. 

In truth, he has absolutely no idea what he’s doing, what he’s about to do, but he knows he has to do it. 

“MJ,” He blurts out, perhaps a little too eager. 

She looks up, startled, but then her expression falls into one of familiarity. She throws him a loose grin, accompanied by a strong peace sign. “Sup?”

“I uh—” He pauses, running his hands over his dark gray jeans in an effort to wipe the sweat off. “I had a question.”

Her eyes flit left and right before she sits forward, intrigued. “Okay?” There’s a hint of nervousness to her tone, one that he doesn’t recognize. 

“Well, I guess, um…” Peter can look anywhere but directly at her. The air feels thick, his breathing doesn’t come easily. 

God, he doesn’t know how to get this out. 

“First, uh—” His voice shakes, and he disguises it under a cough. “I should start by… by saying that—” Oh, God here we go. “I really like you.”

MJ stiffens, again glancing around. “I… like you, too.”

He huffs out a short puff of air, growing frustrated at himself for not being able to get his feelings across well, even as a grown-ass college student. “No, no. I mean…” He finally looks up at her, eyes earnest and warm, yet anxious. “Like, in a romantic… way.”

She definitely seems taken aback by that, but there’s the minuscule, upward twitch of her lip that gives Peter a glimmer of hope to cling onto. 

“Oh?” She asks. 

“Y—Yeah,” He breathes.

MJ looks down at her book, biting at her lip to keep herself calm. She raises the book up a little, as if to hide the way the corners of her mouth are quirking upward. “I… really like you, too,” she mumbles, her bangs falling over her face. “In a romantic… way.”

“Oh,” Peter mimics her earlier, eloquent reaction. “That’s… that’s cool,” he laughs airily. “Did you… maybe wanna… go out with me?”

Her lips stretch into a toothy smile. “Uh… Yeah. That—That sounds cool.”

“Cool!” Peter breathes. They share a quiet, giddy chuckle. “We could… we could go tomorrow night?”

“Or we could go tonight.”

“Tonight sounds good.”

“I’ll see you tonight then. Your place.” She gives him that adorable, shy grin he loves so much. 

“Cool.”

Peter has to fight the skip in his step as he makes his way back home, but once he’s out the door, he allows himself one victorious, cheesy fist-pump in the air. 

--

He’s not sure if he’s more proud of or angry at himself in this moment. 

Proud, in that he followed his gut, asked out the girl of his fucking dreams; angry, in the sense that it took him so damn long to do it, that they could have been doing this the whole time. But when he looks up at MJ as she’s eating at her mint chocolate chip ice cream cone, he doesn’t feel anything but pure, warm, giddy happiness. 

Apparently, they’d both realized that these mutual crushes weren’t new, beginning as early as high school in fact, embarrassing as it was for them both to openly admit. They share a laugh at their oversight, teasing each other relentless throughout the evening for the both of them being so dumb. 

“I liked you first,” Peter had insisted. 

“Of course you did,” she’d teased. 

And although he’s still feeling that fluttering nervousness in his stomach and his hands are still sweating, there’s an ease to being with her. He can’t help but think how lucky he is, getting to be in this park with her, just walking and talking. 

He glances around, hands shoved into his pockets as they walk side-by-side, and he wonders how all of this could change; how the twinkling lights in the trees or the simple pattern of MJ’s pretty skirt might look in full, vibrant color. 

He shivers in nervous, giddy anticipation, knowing that all of this could change tonight, that he could finally see the world beyond the shades of black, white, and gray he’d always known. But if there’s one thing he’s sure—absolutely sure about—it’s that no matter what the world looks like, in color or not… nothing can change the way he feels about MJ. 

She finishes her cone, letting her hand fall to meet his. There’s the faintest brush of her pinky against his, and it’s all the cue he needs as he intertwines their fingers. His thumb brushes over the soft skin of her hand, and he feels his heart soar when she returns the touch. 

They find a quiet bench, not far from the path, sitting together, still holding hands as they continue to talk, both of them lost in this glowing warmth. 

And finally, when she looks at him, her eyes flitting between his eyes and his mouth, Peter truly feels as though he’s lost his breath. 

She smiles, eyes drifting shut as she leans into him. He follows readily, though still stunned.

And out of all the kisses in his life, this one blows them all out of the water. Truly. It’s everything he’d imagined it would be. It’s that kiss all those years ago he’d told her about on the floor of his living room. It’s an opus that deserves a standing ovation. It’s the book with the ending that makes him feel incandescently happy. And they fit so well together, her soft lips moulding against his in the most perfect way. 

She wraps an arm around his shoulder as his hands comes up to tenderly cradle the back of her head, pulling her into him. Her free hand rests against his forearm, squeezing gently. 

When he pulls away, his eyes still closed, he can feel her smile against him as her lips chase his, kissing him again, both of them lost in the feeling of one another, finally. 

He could almost live in that moment forever, just kissing her on that park bench. 

But at some point, they both need to breathe. 

He pulls away again, still smiling. 

And when he opens his eyes, there’s a feeling as if he’s been punched in the gut. It’s ice cold, his heart cracking, the seams now worn and tearing.

The world hasn’t changed. 

The trees are still dark gray. 

The lights are still a blinding white. 

And MJ’s skirt is still a black and white pattern. 

When he finally comes to look at her face, he shatters seeing the realization dawn on her features, even as she tries to hide it. 

She smiles still, and as anemic as it is, he returns the expression as she makes up some excuse about needing to turn in early. He nods, understanding completely, even though his chest feels as if it’s been filled with lead. There’s a certain, familiar stinging behind his eyes as he walks her home and a tense quiet falls over them. 

And he goes home alone. 

Peter can’t sleep, but it’s different than the other night. He tosses and turns, wrought with sadness and shock. Haunted by her touch, her lips against his, the feel of her soft curls under his fingertips. Then, dark trees, blinding white lights.

And he drowns in his confusion. It doesn’t make sense. Everything’s there. Every possible requirement that cruel fate has. They meet it. He doesn’t understand. Why had the universe made everything seem so right, so real, and then give them nothing? What more could it possibly want?

What MJ and Peter have—or had… it’s like nothing he’s ever experienced. It’s a closeness he’s never known. The history they have together is unmatched. MJ’s been there for all of his highs and all of his lows. All his years of relationships with other people, the dates, the nights spent together… they pale in comparison to this one evening with Michelle. Every moment with every other significant other. It’s not the same, and he can’t for the life of him fathom why they’re both still colorblind.

But then, Peter remembers what MJ had said all those years ago, warning him about this; how letting fate have too much control can only make things worse in the long run. 

She had been right. 

She had been right. 

Suddenly, he sits up in bed, rushing to grab his suit. 

He can’t let this go on like this, cliche as it sounds. He has to see her. He has to talk to her. She has to know how he feels. 

In less than ten minutes, at nearly two in the morning he’s at her apartment, outside her fire escape, tapping frantically at her window. 

And MJ answers, looking about in the same state he is. No ounce of sleep yet. 

“Peter, what—”

“Can I talk to you?” He spits out before she can finish. “Please.”

For a moment, she only looks at him, her eyes distant and sorrowful. “Uh… Yeah,” She steps aside, eyeing him warily. “Sure. Come on in.”

Peter rushes in, pacing her floor as he had his own just yesterday. “Listen, I know you’re upset that… that we’re not… soulmates—”

“—I’m not upset,” she instantly denies, though her tone says otherwise. She stands in front of him, arms folded across her chest. 

“You are,” He responds, then his voice lowers, and he speaks again before she can argue. “I am, too. Well, I was. But…” He huffs, running a hand through his hair. He shakes his head, not knowing how to even begin to explain his feelings. It’s funny, minutes before, in his apartment, the thoughts were running rampant, but now, here, standing in front of her, he can’t seem to find any words. 

“But?” Her voice is almost a whisper, and she dares a short glance from under her lashes. 

“I don’t care,” He decides, tone held strong with finality. “I don’t. Care. I wanna be with you, MJ. I don’t care what fate has to say or—”

“Peter,” She stops him, wrapping her arms around herself. “We’re not… we’re not soulmates. It’s not… It’s not going to work. We’ve seen what happens when you actually try to go against fate. It never works out. I know I said it was bullshit before… but—”

“But this feels right, MJ!” He pleads. “I said, I don’t care what fate says. I love you!”

“You said it yourself, Pete,” MJ murmurs sadly, shaking her head as she looks at him. “Your soulmate is supposed to be perfect for you.”

Peter stares at her a moment, a beat passing. 

“Who says I want perfect?”

MJ immediately looks away, trying to subtly wipe at the bottom of her eyes. 

“And… I don’t care if I never see what the world really looks like. I don’t.” Peter moves forward, taking one of her hands in both of his, his gloved thumbs running soothing lines over her skin. “The only thing I care about is being with you. You, MJ. As long as I get to be with you, all that other stuff doesn’t matter. I’d happily see the world in black and white for the rest of my life if it meant I got to spend it with you—”

He’s cut off by MJ crashing her lips to his in a searing, heartfelt kiss. 

When she pulls back, he sees the welling tears in her eyes matching his. A stray drop falls on her cheek, and he reaches up to wipe it away. “I love you,” he repeats tenderly so that only she can hear. 

She looks down, smiling timidly, letting out a tearful laugh when he pulls her into a tight embrace. “I love you,” she says back eagerly, easily, just as soft. 

He takes a breath, pulling back again to capture her lips into another sweet kiss. And he feels all those same feelings from earlier, each and every time. No matter what the universe says, he chooses her, she chooses him. Nothing else matters. 

And when they part, hands and hearts intertwined, they slowly open their eyes again. 

[ryewi]

a game for two pt.1 (M) - jjk

Summary: Seven days on a school trip to the seaside. Seven days with your best friends, alcohol, freedom and a mischevious Jeon Jungkook who just wouldn't leave you alone. Sounds fun, right?

Genre: schooltrip!au, classmate!au, smut, fluff, drama, tba

Words: 7,5k (a long boye)

Warnings: grinding, thigh riding, attractive consent female orgasm, dirty talk (like a tiny bit), language

Early A/N: the summary... flopped... the work didn't though so don't worry!

There he was once again, looking at you with the hottest smirk you've ever seen on a person.

"Jungkook! Come over here man, we're going to make room arrangements!"

And just like that, with a quick and distinctive wink, he turned around and walked away.

Jeon Jungkook, the hottest motherfucker, but also one of the smartest students in your class, has been playing this game of eye fucking for the past seven hours of travelling. The said man would also intentionally brush shoulders with you whenever in close proximity, whispering a barely audible “excuse me” as he walked by.

Currently, the whole school year (divided into 10 classes) was on a weeklong trip to the seaside. On your way to the hotel, you've visited two museums and three churches that you supposed were somewhat important to the history. Truthfully, as much as you liked history and appreciated fine art (also) in form of religious buildings, right now, you just couldn't care less. It was constant waiting for the drive to finally come to an end for the day so the class could hang out in one room, eat snacks and have fun together.

Jungkook on the other hand, found the visits extremely interesting and paid attention to everything the tour guide had to say. His eyes were always on the short woman and it looked like he sucked her every word in like a sponge. It was the first time you’ve seen someone be so bothered about a passing lecture. Therefore, when one of your best friends abruptly told you to look to your left and you witnessed Jeon Jungkook staring right at you, with the cheekiest smirk on his face, you felt rather privileged.

But then she began to point it out more and more and just then did you realize how much less does the man pay attention, since his eyes were constantly on you. That knowledge was both flattering and slightly disturbing, because his intentions weren’t clear; what was he trying to get from it? The smirk would never leave his lips, occasional lip bites thrown here and there and the sight was more than pleasing to look at. Especially knowing that his actions were directed at you only.

"Sister, go suck him off behind the museum or something, don't you see how he looks at you?" Marie said, pushing you slightly towards Jungkook. You turned to look at her, disbelief in your eyes at the crude words.

"You're crazy, Jungkook's probably playing pretend. The fuck would he want to do with me?" You replied, hands trying to pry hers off from your hips.

When you turned around, Jungkook's eyes were locked on to his iPhone. Yet, as if sensing your eyes on him, Jungkook looked up. Instead of a smirk, his pink lips lifted upwards in a tiny smile as he seemed to tap hard on the screen of his phone – your own phone immediately buzzing in your hands. You flinched hard, the device falling out of your hands, straight on to the back. Thanking Gods from above for it had not fell on the screen, you picked it up, inspecting with shaky hands the notification of a new message.

"Oh my god he texted you" Marie said, shaking you back and forth, smile reaching the top of her cheeks.

"I don't know" You replied, fingers working quick to press the password into the keyboard. Truthfully, you felt a bit giddy, thinking that it might be Jungkook who sent the text. Well, when the phone was finally unlocked, it appeared to have been your mom, as she asked where you are now and have you been eating well.

"Ah bummer, imagine if it actually were him?"

"Please, don't give me any ideas"

"Why don't you fuck with him too? Two can play the staring game, intimidate, tempt him” She suggested, mouth still relatively close to your ear, her voice sending shivers down your spine. “I’d honestly give all of my money to see Jungkook hooked on and chasing after someone, y’know?”.

Marie was right, Jungkook wasn't the type to chase after females, mostly because he didn't even have to. They always fell right into his arms, the man had much charisma and great flirting skill. Despite all of that, Jungkook wasn't the type to offer himself to just anyone. He was rather picky, but his gorgeous face and perfect body allowed him such attitude. That would probably be the biggest power of his, everyone was ripe fruit in his garden, yet he chose the ones he liked the best. And that motherfucker for sure knew it.

Something you've never seen Jungkook do, was date for longer than a week. This guy seemed to do everything else so well that his dating abilities had to suffer. It was possible to frequently hear stories about how good Jungkook was in bed, but also how bad the dates went. It was common sense that most females that went out with Jungkook only did it to get into his pants, and you somewhat pitied the man. Then again, Jungkook never looked that interested into doing anything else other than fucking with any of them. He accepted their flaunts, only to never speak to them again once he's done.

Exactly because of that, Jungkook never slept or showed interest in anyone from your class. The one-night stand wasn’t worth not talking to someone he sees every day for the rest of his life.

Therefore, his sudden actions were slightly confusing, and you had to agree with your best friend. Oh, what you’d give to see the game this man would play upon seeing defiance and not immediate compliance.

“You know what, you’re right, let’s play Jeon Jungkook”

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The buses parked at a nearby McDonalds right by the freeway, therefore offering a quick break before continuing the journey to the hotel. The line in McDonalds was horrendously long, but thanks to the determination of your friend, you managed to break to the front and order relatively quick. Upon noticing the ice cream machine working, you’ve taken the one in a lifetime choice and ordered a chocolate ice cream.

Situating yourself outside on one of the (miraculously) free tables and waiting for the rest, you enjoyed your sweet in peace, for a whole of ten seconds.

“Hello!” Everything happened so suddenly. Both the voice and body appeared surprisingly quick, and it took you a long moment to process that Jungkook launched himself from somewhere in the line to the seat across of you. He was smiling and his hair was covering his forehead, fringe coming to cover his eyebrows, giving him a childish look. Jungkook looked like a lost boy and the duality of this man was impossible.

“Uh, hi?” You replied, eyes giving him a once over, before looking down and on the ice cream. Scooping a big amount of it and bringing it towards your mouth, you enjoyed how nice it tasted. For a fast food restaurant with a broken ice cream machine, this proved to be rather good.

Jungkook was giving you a certain type of look, but it wasn’t the one from before. This one was something between expectant and excited. Catching you off guard, the two of you began a staring contest, unsure of what to say or do. The silence became uncomfortable quick and you quietly begged him to start talking.

“The machine’s working yeah?” Jungkook asked, pointing at the cup you were holding. He was still smiling and there was something different in seeing his lips form a smile and not a smirk.

“Yeah, but it won’t be working for much longer” You pointed back with your thumb to the line of students that were filling the small place up. Jungkook laughed at that, head falling back and eyes squinting into thin lines. His nose was scrunched and there was suddenly an undying urge to pinch it.

“Well, that’s too bad isn’t it? I should go ord- oh wait, you have something here” He stood up, leaning over the table fast. His thumb came up to the corner of your mouth and wiped off the slight smear of chocolate. Then probably rather predictably, he moved it to his lips and licked it off, humming to the taste.

“Ah man I wish I could get one, I better hurry!” And just like that, Jungkook was gone, probably faster than he appeared in the first place. There was a dumbstruck look on your face, and other students were either tracking their eyes after Jungkook, or looking at you. There will most definitely be gossip about this for the next two years.

“What was that about?” Your best friend Marie approached you from behind. She was carrying a cup of her own, a colorful drink inside as she sipped from the plastic straw. You ogled the straw and frowned, ready to once again scold her for not thinking about the environment. But before you managed to say anything, she beat you to it.

“They didn’t have any other straw, now answer my question” Her smile widened, shoulders shrugging as she watched you with anticipation in her eyes.

“I wished that I had an answer to that question too, but unfortunately I don’t”.

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"Well class, here we are, The Great Dragon" Mrs. Montero noted, walking a few steps ahead of everybody. She let go of her obnoxiously pink suitcase and walked up the short set of stairs with open arms. "Let our vacation begin!"

Mrs. Montero was a middle aged, forty-something old woman that had a spirit of a young child. She was a daredevil, and often seemed to forget that her teenage years are long over, therefore frequently accompanying and planning fun activities that maybe wouldn't suit her age. Mrs. Montero was also the form teacher of the most chaotic class in school, which so happened to be the one you were in.

Upon witnessing the rather childish and expectant grin on the elder's face, your classmates looked between each other. Suppressed laughs were evident as cheeks puffed and heads turned to avoid smiling straight at the other's face. You too looked around, trying to find your best friends (Marie, April and Jackie) that somehow managed escape to the other side of the group. Once your eyes met, you frowned and scrunched up your eyebrows at them, hand moving quick as to call them over. The three of them laughed and shook their heads no, whispering something between each other. You wanted to ask why, but in a matter of a few seconds, when your eyes accidentally averted their gaze just a bit to the left, the answer struck you like a lightning.

Of course, Jungkook’s eyes were once again on you. What else could’ve it been?

You tried playing along with a cool posture, and clear mind, but it proved to be rather difficult. Really, would anyone be able remain indifferent upon getting eye fucked by Jeon Jungkook? His eyes were now seemingly always on you, the feeling strange, causing you to shy away and immediately drop down to tighten your already tightened enough shoelaces. Jungkook’s gaze was burning your skin, every inch his eyes moved over left as an ignited patch that itched, begged to be covered.

The thing was, the two of you never spoke much. Not a single word was exchanged today, syllables traded for shy looks and sneaky smirks. The whole atmosphere was weird, but alas, you had no courage to go and directly ask what he was trying to do.

“The dinner is going to be ready soon, so head down to the diner once unpacked. The disco starts at 11pm, so dress well!” Mrs. Montero said, her pitched voice now a background noise in your head as you focused on Jungkook’s lips that ever so lightly, lifted up in one last smirk.

Just like that, he was off, disappearing into the crowd, like always.

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“He’s literally undressing you with his eyes, look” Jackie pointed out, head nudging in Jungkook’s direction. She spoke so close to your ear, soothing voice sending shivers down your spine. Her soft palms were soon placed on to your temples, carefully but quickly turning your head in his direction. Truly, there Jungkook stood, bottom lip in a strong hold of his teeth, as he observed the hilarious sight.

You managed to catch his gaze even in the dark and dimmed purple light. The reflectors that were every now and then passing over your heads uncovered the mysterious glint of Jungkook's eyes. The kind that only ever indicated trouble.

Slapping Jackie’s hands off your face and fixing your hair in a swift motion, you chugged the rest of the drink in your cup. The liquid burned your throat, immediately taking effect, as you suddenly felt much lighter and careless. You weren't a drinker, but after the class managed to smuggle in a bottle of whiskey, jack daniels and whichever cheap vodka, the temptation to take a few sips was too strong.

Not long after, Señorita was played and every student that was previously sitting, was now up and approaching their significant other/group of friends. Apparently, this song was loved and enjoyed by many. One could ask why, but upon taking a few glances left and right, they'd be able to conclude why. The track had awoken serious sexual tension, tens of students now grinding on to each other, teasing their way up to what would later be continued in the safety of their hotel rooms.

Looking around, your friends were nowhere to be found. Even Jackie, who was mere centimeters away from you just few moments ago. Although your companions weren't there, Jungkook somehow managed to break his way through huge masses of people and thought that he just might be the perfect replacement.

Oh I should be running, oh you keep me coming for you.

You felt a pair of strong hands on your waist and as if it were some kind of sixth sense, you whispered Jungkook's name. His face appeared next to yours just a few moments later, his chin pressing into the crook of your neck, waiting to see if you'd show any sign of discomfort before proceeding further. Luckily, Jungkook only felt you relax in his arms, your form leaning backwards into his. The beat of the song paired up with the slight buzz of alcohol made you feel so careless and free.

I wish I could pretend I didn't need ya

Jungkook gripped your waist tighter, putting more pressure down onto your hips and trying to guide your movements right before his crotch. Accepting his sly teasing play, you arched your back slightly, beginning to grind down on him.

A quiet sigh of content and satisfaction left Jungkook’s lips and he soon eased his grip, letting you have complete control over your movements. You pondered over the thought of him giving control up so easily; finding it incredibly amusing. The knowledge will come in handy in the future, you thought.

Unexpectedly, you turned around and put your hands around Jungkook’s neck, immediately locking with his. You suddenly craved closer contact and the man was more than willing to give so. His eyes were hooded and breath labored, but his trademark smirk was still plastered on those beautiful features.

Jungkook was about to say something, mouth opening to create words, but no sound came out. Not when you unlatched your hands and began slowly lowering yourself, fingers tenderly caressing the expanse of his chest and thighs. You finished the move in a crouching position, hands on the man's strong calves and face just a few centimeters away from his now obvious hard-on. Raising upwards just as painfully slow, you listened to the beautiful whimpers that kept leaving Jungkook's parted lips – the special kind of sound reserved for your ears only.

A hand lifted your shirt and crept up your back, feeling the smooth skin underneath. Waves of pleasure spread throughout your body at each and every touch – his cold fingers a perfect contrast to your burning skin. A moan surprised Jungkook and he made it his goal to make you create as much of those beautiful noises as possible.

The man looked like he was about to kiss you, his soft palm leaving the expanse of your back and finding purchase at the back of your neck. Jungkook's lips were that close to yours, that it was possible to feel his breath fan over your face. You inhaled the strong smell of jack daniels that he was evidently drinking before approaching you – oh how tempting it was to taste it too.

When the last chorus hit the speakers, you lifted a hand up to Jungkook's chin, dragging a point finger over the prominent cut of his jawline. At that, his breath hitched and he visibly reacted to the contact through a quick cringe. Goosebumps formed on his skin, sigh filling the small place around him. You smiled, continuing the trail from his jaw down his adam's apple, collarbones and the exposed part of his chest. It was so tempting to begin unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, but you decided not to do so this time. Pushing your hips towards his, you continued previous actions. His hands came downwards, not quite resting on your ass, guiding and feeling you for the last few seconds of the song.

It seemed to end way too quick, and so did the intimate moment between the two of you. As if a switch was flipped, Jungkook disconnected himself and disappeared into the crowd. On the other hand, your best friends appeared from the same direction, screaming and squealing because they've been monitoring on the situation from far away. Sigh, the whole class was probably watching you two from the corner of their eyes.

Maybe it was for the better, or not, but there was no sight of Jungkook for the whole night. You tried disregarding it as him finding someone to take care of his little friend, but that only made you think about him more. It awoke some kind of feelings, something unexplainable that made your heart spasm but stomach ache at the same time – it made you feel sick and you didn’t like it.

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The next day left everyone exhausted. It's as if the tour guides intentionally wanted every single student to pass out when back at the hotel. You've been walking for five hours and really, they could be considered an eternity at this point. The temperature was at the highest of highs; you’ve never been to hell, but this is exactly what you imagined it felt. Neither the hand fan or bottle filled with cold water helped and instead of listening to music, you listened to students constantly complaining.

One boy had to be excused from the tour because of what seemed to be a heat stroke, and only then did the guides and professors realize that they've maybe been pushing it too hard.

Although daytime was barely bearable, nighttime proved to be everyone’s favorite part of the day.

The class agreed to meet on the beach, right beside the barbeque spot, around 10pm, a little bit after the sunset. The plan was to eat, drink, listen to music and relax after such a tiring day. Many carried their Bluetooth speakers, yet no one used them. Not when three talented guys brought guitars and a Cajon to complete the whole idyll with beautiful, live music.

Although invited, Mrs. Montero decided to stay in and “let the teenagers be” for tonight. Truthfully, the whole group was thankful, since no one quite wanted the woman around. It meant that the alcohol could be carried freely and occasional swearing wouldn't be scolded and judged. There was no questionable behavior tonight.

When the clock hit 10pm, a small flame began to rise from a certain spot on the beach. Your male classmates have already started preparing, and you watched the whole scene from the safety of your hotel room. The fire was still weak, and guarded very well by a tight circle of rocks. It called, lured you in, the bright orange in the dark, and you turned around, heading to leave.

Your best friend Marie waited for you, checking herself out one last time in the mirror. She was wearing a floral, light cardigan, and a bikini underneath. You expected Marie to jump into the water straight away. After you complimented her look, she noticed your presence and turned around fast. Her eyes scanned your own outfit. Simple bikini top with light beach pants, nothing too revealing for your liking. Offering a quick nod, Marie opened the door and headed out.

Once outside, you were quick to spot Jungkook, the man made himself visible straight away. His muscled back and tiny waist as he crouched down were an immediate attention grabber, ripping out a loud sigh from you. He was helping the fire grow, adding what seemed to be a shot of vodka straight into the flames.

The sand underneath your feet made quiet but noticeable sounds as you walked towards the rest of the group. Jungkook immediately turned around, eyes widening at the sight of you dressed so effortlessly beautiful. At that moment, Jungkook could’ve sworn on anything that he has never seen a person so breathtaking as you.

Upon noticing his dumbfounded gaze, Marie stabbed your ribs with her elbow, making you yelp in pain and hop to the side, hand covering the hurting spot.

“What the fuck was that for?” You breathed out; breath labored after receiving such a hard hit. You were now crouching, trying to soothe out the pain that gradually became worse with each passing second.

“He looked at you with those eyes again! Please tell me you saw!” Marie whisper-yelled at you, her hands frantically flailing all around. She looked to the side, trying to steal one more look at Jungkook and what he was doing; gosh was that the most important right now?

“He’s still looking!”

Jungkook for sure was still having his eyes locked on to you, although not out of adoration anymore. The man was unsure of what to do, he was torn between immediately running over to help and watching from a distance. If he offered help, would it be too suspicious? Would he be too transparent? There was still a certain image Jungkook had to keep, the unbothered, playing hard to get type of guy. Yet, seeing you in pain made his heart break and he swore he was just about to help when-

When you gathered your pride, decided that your mother didn’t raise no bitch and stood up. The injury hurt like hell and you inspected it one last time. That’s going to leave a bruise.

Marie followed you to the rest of the class, explaining to your other two best friends what had just happened. Jungkook wasn’t looking at you anymore, well, not as much as before. You still caught him glancing over every now and then and he seemed somewhat shy – how cute.

Soon, everyone was gathered around the small campfire, passing bottles of unknown drinks and delicious pieces of meat between each other. The instruments that were played created soothing melodies that served as a boost to an already beautiful night. Some were already in the water, splashing around and tempting the rest to join.

It was perfect. The change between black silhouettes who ran through shallow water and the kids that sang their hearts out while leaning on to each other. The students evidently forgot all of their worries for a little while, finally finding some solace. The water perfectly reflected the full moon and all of those endless constellations. You sighed in content.

Everything was alright. You were happy.

Just as you were about to let a tear fall, out of nowhere, someone wrapped their arms around your waist and pulled you up. The first person that came to your mind was Jungkook. To your surprise, you managed to catch a glimpse of said man sitting on the other side of the fire, watching the scene intently.

Upon turning around, you saw your best friend April grinning with the cheekiest look on her face.

April was drunk, and oh god she was a hardcore lightweight.

“Wanna skip stones?” She slurred, holding out a hand for you to hold. April was a big child, hence being very easy to entertain. The reason why she proposed stone skipping was simple. She was pretty good at it and you weren’t, therefore just like a kid, April liked showing off.

Accepting the offer because you weren’t willing to deal with the emotional drunk behind the happy façade, you took a few steps into the water. The cold liquid splashed your calves in low waves. April was already searching for her rocks, iPhone battery lit up and pointed downwards. She was losing balance quick whenever she crouched, yet somehow managed not to fall. Until-

“April!” There she went. All of the rocks fell out of her small hands and scattered around. The female tried to fall on to her hands, to prevent getting hurt as much as possible. The face of discomfort and hurt as she held her hand right after the fall had fueled your concern.

“April oh my god, are you okay?” You asked, crouching right beside her, trying to inspect her body for any sign of bruises or cuts. Fortunately, there were none. You hoped that she hadn’t broken her finger, but because of her strong grip, you just couldn’t be sure about it. “Let me see, shh it’s going to be okay”.

“I broke my nail!” She sobbed.

Oh my god.

Oh dear god.

It was a great effort to mentally force yourself to carry as much empathy as before. Nails were a pretty big deal to April and you too understood the bother of having a nail that’s shorter than others. Just so aesthetically unpleasant. Yet, the amount of grey hairs you grew because you were genuinely concerned it was a serious injury weren’t worth it.

“It’s okay, I’ll get you a nail clipper and a file and we’ll get it done again, okay?” You asked with a hopeful tone, patting the other on the shoulder. She continued sobbing but made an effort to stand up before speaking up again.

“I’ll get it myself, I don’t want to bother you” She slurred, almost losing balance for the hundredth time.

“No, no, it’s not a bother, I'll be right back. You stay here, I can’t risk you falling down the stairs or something” That seemed like enough reassurance as April only nodded and wobbled back to the rest of the class, searching for comfort.

While walking the path that led straight to the hotel, you swore you heard someone trail behind, sand and dried grass crunching under their feet. You quickly dismissed it a classmate that’s heading back because of their own reasons and resumed the journey without any bothers.

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April’s file was hard to find, for it took five minutes of rummaging through her bag only to find it next to the bed. Taking a deep breath and sighing to let your frustration out, you grabbed the nail clipper that was in the bathroom and began heading out. Although you turned the lights off completely, the fire from outside was enough to create a rather dimmed light. The sight of flames was pretty enticing, and you found yourself staring at it for a few moments before snapping out of the daze and opening the door.

The person standing right outside only caught your attention once the door was safely locked. The intrusion was surprising, but definitely not unexpected.

"Well hello, what's the reason behind such a blessing of meeting you?" The corner of your lips curved upwards in a rather playful and teasing manner. The sight before you truly was a blessing. Jungkook was leaning onto the wall, strong arms crossed over his bare chest, flexing just enough to showcase the prominent lines of muscle. His black shorts were positioned lower than before, tiny waist shaping a strong v line you suddenly wished you could see the end of.

Yet, Jungkook’s face displayed a completely different emotion. There was a small smile playing on his lips, his hair curled and messily thrown all over the place. His eyes shone with a special kind of glint and for a quick moment you thought he looked angelic. Then, the next second, when Jungkook’s famous smirk made a comeback, you realized he were more of a devil.

"Oh, I'm just passing by, enjoying the view" Jungkook replied, eyes following an invisible path from the bottom of your toes to the top of your head, trying to emphasize his point. The obvious check-out would usually make you feel uncomfortable, but this was Jungkook. Because of him, you were feeling flustered and even more cocky, absorbing the attention from this breathtaking human like a sponge.

"Then I hope it's worth your money" You replied, blowing a kiss. Just as you were about to turn around and head back, the nail clipper accidentally fell out of your hands. Upon folding yourself to pick it up, a rather silent whine left Jungkook's lips. It sounded like the most beautiful sound your ears have ever heard. There was an unexpected urge to hear more of it, to be the sole cause of it once again.

"It's more than worth" The man mumbled, eyes falling down to see the object currently being picked up. "Really? She sent you out to grab a nail clipper?" Jungkook let out a laugh, in disbelief that a broken nail had you walking all the way back to the hotel and up on the 4th floor. It was a tad bit comical to you too now that he had mentioned it, hence a light laugh escaped your lips as well.

"Is it that important? Can't it wait?" Jungkook asked, tone indifferent.

You quickly caught on to the game the man was trying to play and guessed that there could be some time to spare, join in and play too.

"I suppose it could, but what could I do while I'm waiting?" Making sure to pout while finishing the sentence, you looked at the other with curious eyes, his reply already quite obvious.

"Me?" Although sounding like a question, Jungkook's answer was a statement. He seemed to close the gap between you in a matter of moments, his face now way too close to yours. It was possible to feel Jungkook's breath on your lips again, slight aroma of cheap whiskey tickling your nose. Yet, the man wasn't drunk, for his eyes were way too alert and clear.

"I'm not sure if that's worth my time..." You teased, biting your lip and raising your eyebrow at Jungkook. The cockiness Jungkook had woke up inside of you still sometimes managed to surprise you.

"I guarantee you that it is, beautiful" At that, Jungkook's hands were on your hips, pulling you closer to him where you could feel the prominent bulge of his growing hard-on. The position was awfully similar to the one in the club last night and you wondered how will the man move tonight. Another sigh came out of his mouth the moment you grinded back on him, drawing a small and tight circle with your hips.

"Well then, prove it to me" Locking hands behind his neck, you guided Jungkook's lips straight to yours. His were soft, but the moves were even softer. The kiss was slow, sensible and full of emotion which made you confused for a moment. Jungkook was the one in lead and it looked like he was kissing the love of his life and not just a girl he's trying to shuffle with for the night.

"Fuck no I'm sorry I can't do it like this" You heard him speak when you parted, his mouth lingering a few millimeters away. Then, they were once again on yours and the pace of the kiss changed. There was more of teeth, tongue and bites, it became messier as Jungkook seemingly tried to push you through the wall you were now leaning on. His hands were all over you and the high temperature your bodies exchanged was becoming way too much.

Jungkook was squeezing, groping, every single inch of your behind, hungry for even the smallest piece of it. His hot pants as he tried to gasp for air in between quick kisses only turned you on more; this man truly was a gem. You were trying to figure out the nature of his, if the constant pants and whines were labeling him as a submissive type, or were the aggressive moves an indication of a dominant man.

A certain strong push to the wall had you wincing, but unfortunately not out of pleasure. The injury that was cooling down had reminded you that this maybe wouldn’t be a nice idea. Alas, you were ready to dismiss the thought, only if it wasn’t for Jungkook who was now looking with an extremely concerned expression. Weird.

“It hurts a lot, doesn’t it?” He asked, lips turning down into a frown. Jungkook was beginning to pull away, scared that he’d hurt you more. His change of demeanor was once again confusing, concern a rare emotion for the other.

With a smile and a light nod, you reassured Jungkook that it’s all fine. After pulling his hands back to their previous position, you tried to bring back the heated atmosphere from before. Jungkook gave you one last skeptical look, but you had none of it and crashed your lips back on to his. Bearing the pain will be worth it in the end.

"As much as I'd like for you to choke on my dick right here, I'm afraid we'll have to move somewhere more private" Jungkook whispered, the flirty persona appearing again. He finally stepped away from you, letting you catch a proper breath. He took a moment to inspect how you looked, bikini top barely holding on, pants loose around the hips. Your lips were glistening and puffy, hair somewhat disheveled but nothing that a quick hand through couldn't fix. Yet.

Jungkook was quick to pull out a plastic black card, pressing it to the door right next to yours and unlocking it in a matter of moments. You followed in suit, looking left and right one last time to check for any unwanted spectators. Deeming the hallway free of any potential intruders, you jumped right inside of the room, shutting the door behind with a loud thud.

Although the lights were off, the flames from outside allowed you to notice how different Jungkook’s room was. It was much bigger and you remembered that they had five, where as you had four in one room. You were about to curiously inspect the different furniture if it wasn't for Jungkook pulling you into his strong figure and pushing you backwards towards a big double bed.

When the back of your knees hit the bed, both of you collapsed back, lips still moving together and refusing to break contact. Sometime in between then and now, Jungkook took your pants off, unsure if you’d be okay with getting rid of the bikini right now. The man was kneeling in between your open legs, kissing a path down from your neck, over the valley of your breasts and down a ticklish area of your stomach. He paid extra attention to land a feather-like, healing kiss to your side. Your hands were running all over Jungkook's toned abdomen, often tightening their softer grip on his small waist. The tiny waist has always been one of Jungkook's biggest representations.

"Fuck baby, your body is beautiful" The man whined, slowly rising up towards your neck and once again focusing on kissing the sweet spot on the bottom of it. You were pulling on his hair softly, seeking solid support but also wanting to show just how much his actions affected you.

"You're not so bad yourself" You replied, voice breathy and shaky. You tried rising your chin even higher, granting the other even more access - more space to leave marks on.

"Oh you like that? Should I mark you so the whole class knows what you've been up to, dirty girl?" Jungkook smirked on your skin. At the mention of 'dirty girl', you whined, back aching and head moving in a circle. Gosh, you'd do everything to have this man's hickeys all over your body.

Jungkook looked like an angel carved by the most talented gods. On the dimmed light, the shadows created by his prominent arm and torso muscles made them just that much more noticeable. Laying under such a sex symbol, seeing the want in his eyes, you felt empowered and confident. It was you who caused this man's dick to jump and you've never felt prouder.

“Would it be okay to take this off?” Jungkook asked, head tilting up to look at you. His fingers were holding on the thin piece of fabric that is your bikini, waiting for an answer.

“Please do” Was all that left your lips. It was quiet and broken, but that’s all the confirmation the other needed. All while sucking purple bruises on your neck, Jungkook's fingers untied the knots behind your neck and back in record speed. Once the garment was off, he lightly pinched and pulled on the sensitive buds, testing out what your body enjoyed the most. When it came to you, Jungkook was extremely eager to learn - and he learned fast.

"Jungkook" You whined, hips rising from the surface of the bed, seeking friction.

"Fuck baby, moan for me" Jungkook smirked, eyes moving to witness your poor attempts of dry humping his strong thighs. Granting you more access, Jungkook picked you up and flipped the both of you over so you were now on top of him, straddling his thigh. His hands found your hips pretty quick, introducing and setting a slow pace in which you grinded on top of his clothed thigh.

"Grind on me, fuck, yeah, just like that sweetheart" He cooed, peppering quick kisses over the tender and fresh bruises on your neck. The contact felt so good, and you knew that the wetness will soon soak through your cotton underwear.

"You're going to ruin my shorts darling, what will we do with them later, huh? Should I make you lick all of that up?" Jungkook whispered, voice right next to your ear, making you squirm. His grip tightened and he flexed his thigh - now that's when you felt the coil in your stomach begin to build. The filth the man was telling you only fueled your arousal. Sweet pet names paired up with what could only be described as a verbal sin created such an addicting contrast.

Your hand wandered lower, towards Jungkook's abdomen. His rough breathing was evident, abs tensing with every intake of air, the space between two halves of muscle enough for your finger to pass through. It seemed to tickle him as Jungkook shied away from your touch for a quick moment, first laugh of the night making its way to your ears. As much as his moans turned you on, his breathy laugh made your heart beam with satisfaction. In spite of the short pause in your actions, you were quick to get back to work, hand trailing even lower this time.

Jungkook's hard on was trying to break free from the tight restraint of his shorts. You wanted the other to get some relief too, your hand making its way down to the fly. Yet, Jungkook dedicated this moment to you and your high only, his own hand coming up to yours to stop it from proceeding.

That moment of bliss was so close. Jungkook’s thigh was touching every single spot perfectly. Despite the current euphoric feelings, there was still that little something missing that would push you over the edge. Jungkook managed to catch on to the needy look you offered, so he slowly moved one of his hands from your hip to your center. The middle finger of his right hand was soon positioned just above your clothed clit, teasing for a quick moment before starting to rub slow eights on it.

With sharp bucks of your hips and whines of Jungkook’s name, you reached one of the best orgasms in your life. Jungkook’s smirk was an indicator of his cockiness, the fucker knew just how good he is and what he did to you. Still, his eyes showed adoration as he held your exhausted body carefully. His pride was over the roof right now, but he was also extremely happy. He did that to you. Unreal.

Your phone suddenly began vibrating from somewhere on the floor and you stood up from the bed (with Jungkook’s help) and walked towards it. Jungkook looked at you with eyebrows raised, expectant expression on his face. When you bent down to pick up the small device, making sure not to bend your knees, Jungkook's hand was quick to grab a handful of ass. In spite of it being inappropriate, his eyes were still locked down on to your center. He made sure to thumb over that area as he listened to you answer the phone.

"I-I'm sorry, the d-door were acting up and I had to wa-wait for someone to come and help me" Your breath was still shaky and voice somewhat strained, and if the person on the other side wasn't completely deaf, they'd be able to hear the truth behind your obvious lies.

"Yeah ok-okay" You replied after what seemed like an eternity of silence, before ending the call. Maybe it was for the better, because Jungkook was touching you oh so beautifully again. Nothing else other than whimpers would be able to leave your mouth if the conversation went on.

Once you were sure that the line was indeed cut short, you picked up your stuff that was thrown all over the place before heading back to the bed. Jungkook wore a fucked-out expression, even though it were you who experienced an orgasm. Settling down right on his clothed cock, you grinded once again, earning a beautiful moan in return. Your right hand made its way to his jaw, holding it tight. His eyes were hooded and looking straight into yours, hands coming down to your ass and squeezing hard.

"I'm sorry baby but I've got to go" You pouted, head dipping down to kiss him once again. The kiss was slow and passionate, trying to make up for the time of the night that will be lost. Moans and whimpers were shared between the two as arousal kept charging the actions of both. Jungkook was quick to move south, retouching the bruises he made and pressing you closer to himself. Apparently, the man didn't want to let go, and neither did you, but your drunken best friend was getting impatient and whiny, and oh how painful she could be when she's drunk.

Somehow managing to break free, you stood up and tried to dress yourself to look as presentable as you were before you left. You’ll have to go grab a jacket to cover the bruises on your neck. Yet, the action of dressing was deemed hard as Jungkook's hands just couldn't leave your body. You were sorry for the guy, but somewhat thankful for the whole situation too. It only added up to the tense game the two of you were playing and it gave you a mischievous idea of teasing the other until he couldn't take it anymore. You hoped it would lead to the best dicking of your entire lifetime. And Jeon Jungkook was never the one to fail any expectations.

Once everything was on, you walked up to the man for the final time, hips swaying to the sides lightly as you crouched down in front of his open thighs. Jungkook's eyes grew expectant, maybe you’ve changed your mind, maybe you’ll stay a little bit more. His heart skipped a beat. When you lowered your head towards his crotch and unzipped the zip of his jeans, you landed an open-mouthed kiss to the clothed head of his cock, driving the other insane. Smiling at him, you zipped up the fly and patted on to the area softly.

"We'll see each other around, okay?" With that, you turned around and walked through the now unlocked entrance. Jungkook was left with a disbelieving and dumbstruck expression, accompanied by a horrible case of blue balls.

Oh you still had five days of this school trip.

And he planned on seeing you around much more now.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

A/N: Well hello! School's over, I managed to keep my grades how i wanted and so now I have more time! I was scared it won't be that good after my hiatus from writing but it turned out well! I like it and I hope you will too. See you soon hopefully!

[nthngbxtfanfics]

Not her - Jooheon scenario

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | FINAL

How did I end up in this messed up situation? Why do I have to sit here? Can’t someone actually shoot me?

I was sitting on the floor in the Monsta X dorm. Food displayed all over the table, me leaning against the sofa, between Changkyun and Hoseok. A beer in my hand. All seven of us looked towards the couple in front of us. Jaw slightly dropped open from disbelief.

One of Monsta X’s fierce rappers just introduced his new so-called ‘girlfriend’.

“Congrats, I guess?” started Changkyun to avoid an even more awkward atmosphere. Shownu, who was sitting on the other side of Changkyun, reached his hand out to my jaw and shut my lips together. Not taking his eyes off from the scene in front of him.

“Thank you bro.” Jooheon leaned forward to give his younger friend a fist bump, which Changkyun accepted. All our eyes followed Jooheon as he straightened himself up and threw his arm over his girlfriends shoulder.

“Don’t you have anything to say Y/N?” Jooheon looked straight at me, waiting for encouraging words from me. But before I was able to say anything, I took a sip of my beer and put it back on the coffee table. He anticipated my answer the most, since his eyes started to sparkle and an awaiting smile appeared over his plump red lips. I guess they just made out, before they came here. I parted my lips and let a small breathy sigh escape my lips. By now I noticed how all eyes laid on me.

“What?” I looked around to face everyone around the table. 

“Well, congrats!” I answered annoyed at the sudden attention.

“Yah, Y/N! Why can’t you be nicer?” Jooheons lips showed no smile, but rather a poud.

Sulking baby!

I rolled my eyes, making my thoughts obvious without stating them aloud. By now Jooheon should have been able to read my mind and he obviously did. He let a ‘tsk’ out and ignored me shortly and turned his attention to the other six men.

“If you would excuse us? Me and my Girlfriend are going in Hoseok-hyungs room to have some alone time, ok? I would not like to be interrupted. See ya’ll.” Jooheon and his girlfriend leaved the room after his announcement, both having a smirk plastered in their faces.

“Yah Jooheon! Who told you to go in my room? I don’t want you two to have sex in my room! I repeat - not in my room!” Hoseok got ignored by the two lovebirds and sat back down on the floor, frustrated shoving a piece of chicken in his mouth.

“Can someone actually believe, that he brought a girlfriend over?” asked Kihyun.

“I actually thought he would introduce Y/N as his new girlfriend!” I choked on my beer after Minhyuk shared his thoughts.

“I also thought the same and didn’t imagine, him bringing a complete stranger into our dorm.” Hoseok agreed

“Well, ..” Changkyun got interrupted by some noise coming from the other side of the wall. You could easily recognize the sounds of moans and screaming. All heads turned towards the wall behind the sofa.

“This punk! I told him ..” Wonho interrupted himself, giving up from continuing to argue with himself.

I turned my head back to the table and looked down on my lap, fiddling with the can in my hands. Kihyun noticed my action.

“Y/N, I feel so bad for you should I give him a lecture?” asked Kihyun worried.

Kihyun was one of the first people who knew about my crush on Jooheon, heck he noticed it before I even knew about it myself. The others followed behind me after I talked with him many times. The other members noticed that me and Kihyun spend a lot of much time together, just talking. To an extend that they thought we were dating. After Hyungwon asked the both of us that burning question, we both were fast to clear up the misunderstanding, followed by my confession about my crush on their rapper. And of course did my crush go unnoticed by one certain person called Lee Jooheon. He didn’t even bothered when this rumor about me and Kihyun circulated through the dorm, he seemed as if he didn’t cared at all. But I’m glad that he doesn’t know about my feelings for him, I don’t want to ruin the friendship between us. We had so many obstacles to reach the level we are now and I don’t want to throw all away , just because my heart made this stupid decision to fall in love with him.

“Thank you, but I think it won’t help. What are you gonna tell him? - Hey Jooheon you have to break up with your girlfriend, cuz Y/N is in love with you?” I asked him in return. Kihyun nodded, agreeing that this is not an approach he can easily make. I took the last sip of beer that was still inside of it. I forced myself up to grab myself a new cold can of beer, out of the fridge and rejoined the others in the living room. When I passed Hoseoks door, I could hear the noise clearly and stood there for a few seconds with my eyes glued on the door.

I snapped out of my thoughts after I heard Minhyuk calling out my name. 

“Y/N, can you bring me one too?” I turned my head towards him and nodded, grabbing the new can with my other hand. Passing the door as fast as I could. I held his beer right next to his head he bid me a small thanks and took the can out of my hand. I rounded the table towards Hoseok to go back onto my place. I made the great decision to turn my butt towards Hoseoks face.

“Y/N I didn’t knew you’ve been working out.” Hoseok leaned back and thought it would be funny to smack my ass.

“Yah! Lee Hoseok!” I flashed my head towards him, holding my hands over the touched area. Heat running up my cheeks and turning pink. Hoseok looked at my face and his loud laugh erupted to fill the room. I stood  frozen in front of Hoseok, processing the situation. Then I felt another hand on my free butt cheek which has not been tormented.

“Y/N-ssi, your ass really does look good though, next time you work out. Take me with you.” Changkyun chuckled keeping his hand where he reached for, squeezing it a little.

“True, take me with you too.” Hoseok agreed after recovering from his hysterical laughing.

“But Hyung, your ass is fine enough. Changkyun is the one who need some more juice in there” stated Minhyuk. Everyone started laughing and Changkyun acted offended. Putting his hand over his heart, mouth wide open. Even I couldn’t hold back my giggle and sat back down between the two.

We continued to laugh and talk about random stuff throughout the night. Ignoring the noises from the other room. By now the most of us got pretty drunk except for Hoseok, Kihyun and Hyungwon. Some of us acted wasted, other were more put together like Shownu he seems like he can handle a pretty good amount of alcohol.

But here we are, Minhyuk and I clinging onto eachother singing, while trot music was blasting through the speakers as loud as possible. Changkyun is almost falling asleep on Shownus shoulder mumbling something to himself. The others were cheering me and Minhyuk on, shouting their self made fanchant towards us. The Music switched from trot to the most recent hits, girlgroup songs were definitely on the list. Me and Minhyuk tried to dance to the choreography of Gashina by Sunmi.

Let’s say it that way, we failed miserably.

The others couldn’t hold back their laughter and watched. Especially when we tried the moves in a seductive way. We ended up in each others arms, almost falling. We parted our ways again and kept on dancing and singing. At some point we were going off and head banged when the music changed to some hiphop. Hoseok joined us, together we started moving and rapping. I couldn’t even say one word the right way, only gibberish came out of my drunk lips. We went so hard that my and Minhyuks head collided in some kind of way. Resulting in us laying on the floor laughing our asses off. The whole room erupted with laughter.

A pair walked in to the living room, watching the situation unfold, looking  around the room confused . Jooheon was searching for a face to look at, so he could question what happened. He decided to walk up to the speakers and turned off the music. Everyone wasn’t pleased after the loss of music. Jooheon walked up to me, who was still laying on the floor.

“You should go to bed Y/N, you’re completely wasted.” Jooheon slung his arms under my armpits to pick me up, I whined not wanting to leave the comfort of the floor. I felt someone tugging onto my legs, it was Minhyuk.

“Jooheonie ~ let go of Y/N we had so much fun right now. You can’t take her away!” Minhyuk tried to keep me on the floor. My body felt limp, I don’t wanted to go to bed, not yet. Jooheon tried to pull me away from his friend. He started this kind of habit of taking care of me when I’m drunk. We drank together a lot, he knows how I am when I’m drunk and I know how he is when he’s the wasted one. Jooheon doesn’t like it when I’m getting completely drunk, because I tend to cling on someone random and become really needy. My hormones start to go crazy and Jooheon always tries to avoid me getting with someone I don’t know, he becomes extremely protective over me.

His girlfriend stood by the door watching the situation unfold, she wasn’t amused by the fact that her boyfriend went straight to me.

Kihyun jumped up from his spot to help me stand up and took me out of Jooheons grip. Hoseok took care of Minhyuk and helped him towards the couch.

“Why did you let Y/N drink so much?” asked Jooheon annoyed.

“Jooheon she’s a grown up woman she can do whatever she wants.” Hyungwon defended me and walked over to the kitchen to grab two glasses of water. After Hyungwon returned and handed Minhyuk his glass of water. He turned towards our direction and gave me the other glass. I slided down against Kiyhuns body, sitting on the floor knees in front of my chest. Kihyun stood still, supporting my back. Jooheon looked down at me with an annoyed expression, the other two men followed his gaze and looked back up to watch Jooheons face. He kept his gaze on me until his girlfriend called out his name. His attention went straight to her abandoning me on the floor.

I took a sip of water, my dry throat was relived and happy about the moisture. After finishing my glass of water, Hyungwon sat down right in front of me and took it out of my hand.

“OK, Y/N I’ll bring you to bed.” Kihyun helped me stand up and Hyungwon supported my other side, both walked me towards Hoseoks bedroom. Since they always let me sleep in there when I sleep over at the dorm. When we reached the closed-door, both men froze and debated with eachother if they should let me sleep in that room after what happened there a few moments ago. Both decided against it and walked me to the other room, where Minhyuk, Jooheon and Shownu were sharing currently. They laid me down onto Jooheons bed, since they assumed that he’ll sleep with his girlfriend in Hoseoks room. I fell flat on my stomach, face in his pillow. I inhaled deeply, taking in his scent and falling asleep immediately. Kihyun sighed and walked towards the side of the bed. He debated with himself if he should let me sleep in my clothes or change me in something more comfortable.

“We should change her clothes, she can’t just sleep in those tight pants. She might throw up at night. And those won’t help one bit.” Stated Hyungwon, Kihyun nodded to the suggestion.

“Then go grab something we can change her into.” demanded Kihyun. As Hyungwon was about to leave, came Hoseok together with a passed out Minhyuk through the door frame. He threw the drunk man onto his bed, not caring about his comfort. He walked straight to my passed out form.

“I’m about to head and grab her some clothes. Do you have anything maybe?” Hyungwon turned to Hoseok.

“You can look in my room, there must be a shirt she can wear. My clothes would look pretty oversized on her.” Hoseok turned his upper body towards Hyungwon to instruct him, where he could find the items. Hyundwon went out of the room to grab the stuff and returned fast.

“OK Y/N let’s get you out of these clothes. Hyung help me turn her around.” Wonho walked to the other side of the bed after Kihyun instructed him what to do. As Kihyun was about to pull my shirt over my chest,  Jooheon bursted into the room, a bit mad.

“What are you thinking you’re doing?” questioned Jooheon.

“We are trying to change Y/N into some more comfier clothes.” Hoseok defended their innocent act.

“Who told you you could do that? And why is she in my bed? Isn’t she supposed to be in your room?” Jooheon turned his attention to Hoseok, who looked at him confused.

“We thought that you and your girlfriend are going to sleep in Hyungs room” Hyungwon tried to clear the misunderstanding.

“No, I never said that she’s sleeping over. I just brought her home, since Y/N is here.” fired back Jooheon, clearly annoyed at the situation.

“Sorry for that unpleasant misunderstanding. Then we’ll bring her to Hoseoks room. Y/N ~ wake up we’ll bring you somewhere else ok? You can continue sleeping there ok?” Kihyun tried his best to wake me up and not startle me at the same time. I couldn’t open my eyes or even say a word. All I did was groan as a respond. Hoseok and Kihyun pulled me up and dragged me towards the said room, Hyungwon followed us with clothes in his hands. Jooheons gaze followed us leaving the room. We walked into the room, Hoseok saw his room for the first time this night and it was messy. Even more messy before he left it. All three stood in the middle of the room frozen and examining our surroundings. Hoseoks covers and pillow laid in a corner of the room, used condoms laid on the bed and on the floor. They definitely did it a few times, cum and other questioning fluids stained the bed. The room smelled like sweat, unpleasantly to sleep in.

Hoseok got frustrated and mad at the younger one, for not cleaning up behind him and letting the mess behind. Kihyun was too disgusted to lay me down onto the bed.

“I feel like Y/N shouldn’t sleep in here.” Hyungwon stood in the doorway judging the room. Hoseok snapped his head towards the man in the doorway, annoyance clearly marking over his facial expression.

“What about me?” asked Hoseok.

“You can clean it up later, but she needs a place to sleep in” fired back Hyungwon. Kihyun was thinking of a place he could put me in, since I got pretty heavy after every passed minute.

“Let’s lay her on my bed, I actually have a big bed. We both can sleep on it and if something happens I’ll be there to help her.” After Kihyun stated his idea, they made their way towards their room and laid me on the said bed. Instantly, the smell of freshly washed covers filled my nose and I sighed with relief. They changed me into one of Hoseoks shirts and tugged me into bed. Hoseok actually stayed in the room, he refused to sleep in his messy room, he laid in bed with Hyungwon and Changkyun was long asleep on his own bed. Kihyun made himself ready and laid down himself, keeping some distant between us. Not too long and everyone in the dorm was fast asleep.

I woke up with the biggest headache I’ve ever had and a first unfamiliar environment, but soon recognized the room. I couldn’t remember anything from the night before. I looked around the room and saw another bed next to where I was. I noticed a passed out man laying on it, it didn’t took me long to say that it was the Maknae. Suddenly a sharp pain went through my head, I let a deep groan escape my lips. That resulted in Changkyun waking up and moving under his covers.

“Morning.” He turned his head towards me, his whole body except for his head were under a blanket. Humming in response, my eyes closed again.

“We got pretty wasted last night. Huh?” his chuckle low and his voice deeper and raspier than ever. Both of us started to laugh until we both got punished with yet another sharp pain through the head and stopped laughing. After some time, Changkyun and me made our way towards the living room.

“Well, Y/N-ssi that shirt is pretty short though, whose is it?” I stopped walking and turned around to look at my behind, Changkyun looked me up and down, until I turned fully around and flicked his forehead. He immediately regretted his words and let out a small “Sorry~”. You reached the living room, where four men were sitting around, hungover and eyes glued onto the TV.

“Oh hey Y/N! Have you slept well?“ Hyungwon was the first to notice us.

“Good morning to you too Hyung.” Changkyun sat down onto the floor, infront of Shownus legs.

“I slept like a rock and I have a big headache, but I guess I’m fine.” I stated.

“To prevent a headache, you should’ve not drank that much last night.” Jooheon sat on the other side of the couch, his eyes glued onto his phone screen. I ignored his nagging and turned my attention back to Hyungwon.

“And how come you’re awake that early?” Hyungwon chuckled at my confused state.

“It’s not morning Y/N it’s almost afternoon. We are all awake for a long time now.” I smiled and laughed a little about the fact, that I was sleeping almost the whole day. I looked around and noticed some members missing.

“Where are Hoseok and Kihyun?” I threw my question into the room and waited for an answer.

“ Hoseok is working out and Kihyun is making dinner.” Shownu answered my question not looking away from the TV screen. I decided to go to the kitchen to accompany Kihyun. I saw the said man standing in front of the stove. The smell of food went straight through my nostrils, loosing myself in the smell. I let out a small sigh. Kihyun noticed my presence and turned towards me.

“Oh hi Y/N, have you been sleeping well?” Kihyun turned back to the dish and stirred it. I Hummed in response and walked closer to him.The smell of the dish becoming stronger and my stomach responding to it.

“Wait a little, I’m almost done and we can eat. You can go get Hoseok and tell him that dinner is almost done.” After Kihyun finished his sentence, I waited a few seconds and made my way towards the self-made gym room.

As expected, Hoseok was working out. He noticed my presence and turned his head towards me. “You’re awake! Wanna work out?” He stopped his exercise.

“As much as I’d loved to, I might pass for today, too hungover to actually lift a my own arm. -” Hoseok chuckled at my remark.

“Kihyun said that dinner is almost ready and I’m here to tell you that.” I finished my sentence. Hoseok stood up and walked towards me.

“I didn’t knew that my shirt would be that short on you.” He stood in front of me and let out a low chuckle. My face instantly turned red, Hoseok was always able to make me flustered.

“Th-That’s your shirt? Did you change my clothes?” I asked, still flustered.

“Yeah, Me and Kihyun actually, we don’t wanted you to sleep in your own clothes. Hyungwon don’t wanted you to throw up around the whole place.” Hoseok walked past me towards the living room.

“Are you coming or not?” I got startled and followed right behind him. We reached the living room and I noticed that Jooheon was still on his phone, not taking his eyes off of it and smiling like a mad man. A sharp pain went through my heart instead of my brain, the thought of him loving someone else was painful. But I tried my best not to show any sign.

Kihyun called for us to sit down and eat, Minhyuk, Shownu and I helped Kihyun to put everything on the table. While we were all eating, I noticed from the corner of my eye, that Jooheon was still on his phone and stuffing food into his mouth. Jealousy filled my guts and I tried to ignore it. Kihyun noticed who I was watching and cleared his throat to get the rappers attention.

“Jooheon, please put your phone away, were eating.”

Jooehon looked up to Kihyun annoyed and laid his phone to the side. His gaze landed on me, he noticed my attire.

“Y/N whose shirt is that?” attention now on me.

“ Hoseoks, why?” I stated sassy, the jealousy speaking in me.

“Why are you wearing it? Don’t you have your own clothes?” Jooheon snapped back, more annoyed by now.

“Why do you care? I can wear the clothes of whoever I want. You’re not my dad nor my boyfriend. So mind your own business.” The jealousy being replaced by anger now.

“I’m not your boyfriend, but your best friend. And I care about you like a little sister. Here are six other men, you don’t know what goes on on their minds.” his voice got more stern than before. The word sister shot like an arrow through my chest.

“Why are you so pissed? Nothing happened to me!” At this point I didn’t cared about the people around me.

“Yah, both of you stop now. We are eating. If you wanna fight please do it outside.” Kihyun was pissed and stopped the fight before it escalated.

“Thank you for the meal.” I stood up right away, leaving the table.

“Y/N-ssi!” Hoseok tried to stop me from leaving.

“Yah! These are too short, change now! Y/N!” Jooheon saw my outfit on full display. The shirt went up a little, revealing a small part of my red lacy panties and the underline of my butt cheeks. I ignored his remark and walked straight to the room, where my clothes laid perfectly folded on a chair. I changed my clothes and heard how Kihyun and the others lectured Jooheon. 

I don’t understand why he has to be so annoying and protective, he has a girlfriend now. He should care about her not me. It hurts enough to know that he loves someone else.

Why does he has to terrorize me?

After I finished changing my clothes and grabbed my stuff. I walked past the group of boys and was about to head back home. The boys were calling after me, but I walked out of the dorm and out of the building, taking the next bus to my place. I turned off my phone, too mad to talk with anyone.

When I reached my place, I took a quick shower and went straight to bed. The hangover still present in my brain.

[hees-theman]

Mistake at the First Sight (Chapter I)

CHAPTER ONE

Pairing: Park Seonghwa x Female!Reader

Genre: Romance, Enemies to Lover

Warning: Cursing, a bit of physical fight

Summary: You’re a transfer student from London and Park Seonghwa thought that you don’t know Korean language. Little did he know, you are actually a Korean who moved back to the place you were born.

A/N: Thank you for supporting this series. It means a lot to me. Also, I’m sorry for any grammar mistakes hhh. Enjoy.

<< Prologue

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After struggling for a few days, trying to stay focus in the class without falling asleep or getting distracted by mobile phone, it’s finally Friday and you’re in the last class of the day.

“Alright, that’s all for today,” your lecturer said. Everyone in the class let out a sigh and mentally cheered. They can now go back to their own room and do whatever they want with their life. For you, it’s either music or sleeping.

That is until Jiyeon suddenly grabs your arm while you are putting back your stationaries to where it belonged. You turn to look at her and you can the sparkles in her eyes.

The very same sparkles that will appear every single time she needs something from you. Just at the thought of it makes you groan in annoyance.

“Let’s go to a bar tonight,” she said. Your eyebrows immediately frown and a confused sound came out from your mouth. What’s wrong with her? Is she crazy?

You hold out your hand to put it at Jiyeon’s forehead and you do the same to yours with your other hand. It’s now Jiyeon’s time to be confused. You shake your head a bit. No fever.

After confirming that your friend is not sick, you put your hand down and turn to look at her with an unimpressed expression. “That’s not the kind of Friday night that I like, Jiyeon.”

Jiyeon’s lip that was curled up into a wide grin now slowly turned into a pout. The eyes that were holding galaxy earlier now turned into a puppy eye. Once again, you shake your head at her behavior, but this time you did it mentally.

“Please, Joo. You’ve been here for a month now but we still haven’t hang out together,” she pleaded.

Her words got you thinking. It is a fact. You won’t deny it. Although you’ve been here for a month, you have never really hang out with anyone from your university. Heck, you don’t even know half of your classmates’ names. You really are THAT unfriendly.

“Please, Joo. Let’s go to a bar tonight. I know the best place,” Jiyeon begged once again.

You let out a sigh in defeat. What’s the point of you coming back here and not have fun like everyone. A little fun sometimes can be good for you too. A little fun won’t hurt, right?

At that decision, you look at Jiyeon from the corner of your eyes and nod your head, earning a wide grin that almost makes her eyes disappear from her. She then wraps her arms around your neck and pulls your head into her chest.

“Thank you, Jooyeon. You’re the best.” You did nothing but smile softly at her and pat her arm. She made the right choice, right? It’s the right thing to do, right? But, why do you feel slightly wrong?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As soon as the door was pushed, you can hear the music from the bar. Jiyeon turn to look at you and hold out her hand for you to take it.

Both of you enter the bar and let the door close on itself. Your eyes roam around the place, studying the interior. One thing you love to do when you’re entering a place is observe the place. For you, the atmosphere tells everything about a place.

By observing this place, you can say that this place is not as chaotic as you thought it would be. The music is quite slow but still enjoyable for the customers. A lot of people in here are just drinking and talking with one another.

Maybe, just maybe, you will come to this place again if you ever need a drink alone.

That’s what you thought until your eyes land on a group of people that you barely know but still recognized. Some of your classmates are here, including that guy.

At the sudden realization, you turn to look at Jiyeon who is now looking at you with an apologetic expression.

“What’s the meaning of this, Jiyeon,” you asked.

Her eyes shift from left to right, trying to search for an excuse or construct the best sentence that she can. She knows that it’s her fault for not mentioning about other people joining but she knows that if she tells you, you will refuse to come with her.

She bites her lips and look down at her feet. “I’m sorry, Joo.”

At her words, you turn around to face the door. But, before you can grab the handle, Jiyeon’s hands hold your hand, stopping you from moving further and turn your head to her.

“I know it’s my fault for not telling you but they really want to get to know you,” Jiyeon said. Although you are furious and you just want to go back home, you still open your ears to listen to her explanation.

“Actually, San planned this. A lot of us want to get to know more about you. But, most of them are shy – and scared a bit. Since I’m the closest one to you, they asked me to come and invite you. I know that this is basically forcing you but their intention is good.”

You turn to look back at your classmates’ table. You can see that they are laughing, some drinks on the table, some drinks on hands. They all look so happy and cheerful.

“I don’t mind if you want to scold me but, let’s go meet them. I know deep down in your heart, you want to get to know everyone too. You just didn’t know how. Take this as the first step, okay?”

Your eyes turn back to look at Jiyeon. The fire inside your heart slowly fades away. Her words are true. You are not that good at making friends so you don’t really talk that much with other people. You tend to feel like you’re an awkward person whenever you’re trying to hold a conversation with anyone.

However, you do want to know your classmates’ name. Their likes, their dislikes. You want to make friends with them.

“Fine. I’ll let it go just this once.” Your words brought happiness to Jiyeon. You can see through her face that she is overly satisfied at the fact that you agreed to join a table with your classmates.

With her holding your hand, both of you walk towards the table, surrounded by males and females from your class. Everyone at the table turn to look at you. The faces that held no expression suddenly lit up at your presence.

“Introducing, our transferred student, Kim Jooyeon,” Jiyeon said and everyone clapped their hands. Some of the guys even let out some howls and whistles.

Jiyeon pulls you with her and bring you to an empty seat that was reserved for you and only you. Everyone is so excited to see you, except for one person. A tall, handsome guy, no other than Park Seonghwa.

He has his drinks in his hand. His eyes scan your outfit just like how he scanned it few weeks back. The way you dressed are different tonight. Black leather jacket, white graffiti shirt tucked in black tight pants that showcase the length of your leg and paired with a black 2-inched-boot on your feet.

His eyes move back up just to see that you’re wearing a black choker around your neck. A burgundy wine lipstick that you wore really matched your skin colour. The eyeliner makes your eyes slightly bigger than normal and your hair isn’t in ponytail like how it used to be. You let it flow down your back.

His tongue glides along his lower lip unconsciously at the sight of you. You look even more attractive than you already did and he didn’t even know that’s possible. Maybe the quote “nothing is impossible” is a fact.

Right at that moment, your eyes meet his. He clears his throat, trying to hide the fact that he was staring at you earlier and turn his head to the other side as he bring his glass to his lips.

Your eyes can’t help but to scan him from up and down. The way he dressed was almost the same as yours. Black jacket, plain white shirt, black pants and black shoes. However, that is not what attracts you the most.

It’s the way he styled his hair. During your last encounter with him, his hair was down. He covered his forehead with his bangs. But, tonight, his forehead is shown to everyone in all its glory. You would be lying if you said that didn’t make you feel something.

Actually, it makes you feel hot. He looks hot tonight. The way his adam apple moved as he swallowed his drink wasn’t helping either. If it wasn’t because of the statement that he threw at you few weeks ago, you’re probably hitting on him right here and right now.

A light tap on your right shoulder awakened you from your thoughts. You turn your head to your side to see a guy smiling softly at you. You can see there’s a slight dimple on his cheeks.

“Hey, I’m San, the one who asked Jiyeon to bring you tonight.” Right. You were forced to this place. You almost forgot that you were about to kick your own ass out of the bar if it weren’t because of Jiyeon begging at you.

“I know that you thought that we won’t be here but the sole purpose I did this is to welcome you properly. It’s been a month and we barely know each other even though we’ve seen each other every day in the class. I hope you can forgive Jiyeon for that.”

His words make you turn your head to look at Jiyeon who is currently talking to the other girls happily. The sight of them laughing warms your heart. It’s something about you. Somehow you will feel happy when you see other people being happy.

“It’s okay. At least she’s happy,” you said as your eyes still looking at Jiyeon and her friends. San’s smile widen slightly at your words and gesture.

“Well, I hope that you will enjoy tonight,” he said. You turn your focus back on him as he raises his glass and cheers it on the air. His action makes you let out a light chuckle.

Maybe coming here tonight isn’t as bad as you thought it will be.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It’s been three hours since you last came in here and almost everyone is quite tipsy by now. You’ve known all of their names by now. You guys talked and played some games to get to know each other better.

You put down your glass on the table and excuse yourself to go to the toilet. On your journey, you had to pass by a group of boys just beside your table. You continue to walk straight to get your business done, oblivious at how they stare you down.

“That chick is hot. I bet I can get her on my bed tonight,” one of the boys spoke up.

Seonghwa, being the one who sit at the end of table and the nearest to the boys, listened to their conversations. His hand grips around his glass tightly but not enough to break it, trying to stay calm at their explicit talk.

“I bet she won’t mind if I do her roughly,” another male said – and that is the cue for Seonghwa.

He slams his glass on the table and turn to face the table beside theirs. He is so furious. There is fire in his eyes. He scans each one of them, studying their faces. If looks could kill, they will all be dead by now.

“Who the fuck said that?” His tone is low. He is trying to control himself. Everyone around the place didn’t dare to do anything. They just watch the scene, not knowing what to do.

One of the guys stands up and put his hands in his pocket. He looks at Seonghwa with challenging expression. “Me? Why? What are you going to do,” he said, fueling Seonghwa’s anger even more.

Without thinking, he punches the guy straight at his cheek, making him fall on the floor. The sudden reactions from Seonghwa make the girls gasp and the boys get up from their seat.

The guy touched his cheek before looking at Seonghwa and stand up, facing him once again. Heavy pants can be heard coming out from Seonghwa. Without wasting any seconds, the guy punches Seonghwa back at the same place he got punched.

All of a sudden, they got into a physical fight. Seonghwa and the unknown guy keep beating one another as their friends trying to stop them by pulling away. But, that didn’t work. Both of them are too furious to stop. As if a beast is fighting a beast.

You, who were oblivious of what was happening, walked out of the toilet normally before witnessing the scene. Your eyes widen when you recognized one of them in the fight. Park Seonghwa. What is that idiot doing? Is he seriously fighting someone?

You walked up to him and grab his arm, trying your best to stop him along with his friends. However, it didn’t work.

“Park Seonghwa!” You yelled at the tall guy. Your hands are still around his arm.

At the sound of your voice, both of the males stop fighting with each other and everyone around them turn to look at you including the person you yelled at.

It is now your turn to get mad. You pull him back by the arm and push him to the side. “What the fuck do you think you are doing?!”

Seonghwa looks at you as he breathes heavily, his fist clench tightly. His eyes turn to look at the guy sharply before nodding his head at the guy’s direction.

“This son of a bitch was having explicit thoughts about you,” he said angrily. You turn your head to look at the other guy who just turned his head away, refused to look at you.

Your eyes linger on the guy for a while before you turn back to look at Seonghwa. You walk towards him and stand in front of him.

“Then, that’s my fight with him. Not yours.”

Seonghwa was about to open his mouth to speak but you already grabbed his hand with yours and pull him with you out from the bar, leaving everyone in the bar dumbfounded and confused at what just happened.

For a while, the bar was in silent. That was until San came face to face with the guys from the next table.

“Next time, don’t mess with my friends.”

With that, San and his friends, including Jiyeon, walked out of the bar.

                                                                                                  Chapter Two >>

[krisseycrystal]

Please, o' Granter of Wishes, in these dark days, I have but one request. On the Decree of Fluff, there lies both Soulmates & Reincarnation. Might I implore thee to pick a preferred option with the Fated Shuake pairing from the tale of Persona 5?

[sage voice] it is done.... 

shuake + “reincarnation” anyway alskdjf gOING TO WORK ON SHUAKE + “SOULMATES” NOW because i can’t help myself and couldn’t decide and honestly that sounds like a LOT of fun and also I have an idea (it will be a LOT happier than this one i promise alksdjfasdf)

thank you SO MUCH for the request, friend!! hope you enjoy and sorry for all the poetry

The Fool’s Courage [Read on AO3]

It starts with the tiny scribble of a pen in the corner of a crossword puzzle book and a, “Hey, any idea what 23 across might be?” which isn’t the way Akechi had ever planned on starting something that could remotely be considered a tragedy or a romance, but here they are.

He knows Kurusu sees the tiny, I think we’ve met before, because there’s a small furrow to his brow and a bend at the corner of his mouth and it’s not that Akechi’s been staring at the slope of that mouth, per se, but he’s always thought everyone else’s claims that the transfer student was hard to read was completely bogus if one just paid attention to the tiny inflictions in his face.

Kurusu adjusts his glasses and pivots the open magazine around the axis of his finger. He grabs Akechi’s pen out of his hand before Akechi can say a word--the nerve--and Akechi would say something, he probably should, but his own fingers are still tingling at that brief contact and he thinks if he tries his voice might betray him.

So he crosses his forearms over the counter and watches his pen--his--idly swing in the space between Kurusu’s thumb to index finger. It’s a rapid, thoughtless movement; it has no right to be so charming.

When Kurusu finally scribbles in the boxes and returns both crossword and pen, Akechi scoffs. “You could have given me a hint. No need to show off.”

Kurusu’s smile is something that handsomely reads, Isn’t that usually my line?

Akechi tries not to smile back. When Mr. Sakura walks up with a phone pinned between his shoulder and cheek, he and Kurusu share a Look that means another order to-go and immediately, Kurusu moves for the disposable containers tucked above the fridge. 

Akechi taps his pen against the puzzle and hums. 

In the string of boxes, the poet of Infinitati Sacrum has been penned in Kurusu’s jagged, near illegible English (really, who taught this boy his English characters?): J-O-H-N-D-O-N-N-E.

He doesn’t know how the hell Kurusu knew that but the echo of possibility makes some, jaded part of him feel hopeful again. More importantly: written to the side, is a dark and small, I think I know what you mean.

When Akechi lifts his eyes, Kurusu is watching him with those quiet, steady eyes. He is too clever, too brilliant, for such an unassuming young man who hides behind thick glasses and a cafe shop counter.

- o - o - o -

It is England and it is Westerham and 1817 and he drank too much wine and made a fool of himself in the downstairs parlor, but it seems there is mercy yet to be found in the inoccupation of this room because damn the sounds this man’s tongue draws out of him are obscene.

In the cooling afterglow, he slips his long-awaited reply in an inside pocket of the man’s black coat, which had been heedlessly tossed over an upholstered chair. After a sweat-slick grin and teasing jibe about being more careful with the articles of his wardrobe or else people might get ideas, he straightens his cravat and dismisses himself out the servant’s halls with a, “Until next time, my dear burglar,” tossed over his shoulder.

It would not be good for him to be seen here.

They will meet again outside of Kent and then it will be strictly business. They have their roles to play after the Good Lady of Ramsgate complained about her missing silver after opening her doors for a social evening. If he wishes to uphold his post, he cannot give anything away about the promiscuous nature of his relationship with the man who is undoubtedly the culprit.

Not if he wishes to see him again in the fall.

- o - o - o -

It’s not just crossword puzzles. Over time, sudokus, word searches, cryptograms--passed from one hand to the other over LeBlanc’s counter--also become the means of their secret correspondences, the channels by which those burning things on the edges of their hearts finally have their chance to speak. Akechi would say he isn’t sure why or how he has become so certain of his and Kurusu’s strange connection, if only every time he looked at the young man, he wasn’t absolutely certain that the soul of him, even if not his face, was somehow familiar.

They start to use ciphers where well-placed puzzles and requests for help with English word searches to loop the letters R-E-I-N-C-A-R-N-A-T-I-O-N with a scribbled question mark next to it aren’t enough.

Kurusu struggles with the ciphers at first (adorable), mouth pinched and brow furrowed at the extra effort it takes to work out Akechi’s true message (also adorable). He himself doesn’t attend Shojin, so he can never watch him to verify this hypothesis, but it’s clear that Kurusu must spend some time working on his ciphers during his lectures or between his Metaverse missions because it only takes a single day for Akechi to receive each response, folded inside the cursory napkin between his daily coffee cup and saucer. 

And each time, he is forced to stifle the fluttery, warm feeling in his chest. 

There is nothing for Akechi to be affected about. Certainly not the idea that Kurusu spends at least some of his non-renewable hours and minutes thinking about him and what it is he wishes to tell him.

The happiness is silly. Foolish. It shouldn’t make him glad that a young man who he has been told should be his enemy wants to pursue these conversations, especially when Akechi makes it so difficult to do so in the first place in the hopes of keeping their written messages safe from unwanted eyes.

But their letters are a simple joy.

And Akechi does not have many simple joys in this current life.

- o - o - o -

It is Greece and it is 159 and a new shipment of papyrus has arrived when that damned thief strikes again. This time, just as the previous time, and the time before that, the thief steals more than his employer can afford to lose. At last, at last, having enough of this, the guard lays his trap.

When, by torchlight, with men at either shoulder, they corner the thief in a stone alcove, there’s something glinting in those dark eyes that, ironically, arrests him.

It is something old.

Something familiar.

And he cannot escape the wondering question: have they done this song and dance before?

- o - o - o -

It is 1816 and there are times, though they are few and far inbetween, when his burglar stays late into the night, entwined in the cotton of his sheets, and though he knows it won’t last until morning, the brush of their legs tangled together are enough to power him through centuries apart, he is sure.

“Tell me something you’ve read lately,” he whispers with his cheek pressed to his pillow. He breathes softly as his fingertips trace over the back of his burglar’s hand, following the soft ridge of blue veins under his skin.

“I’m afraid all I have for you are poems,” his burglar murmurs.

“How typical of you.”

“Is Donne too morbid for our faire?”

“If it’s recited by you, it’s perfect.”

And his burglar frowns thoughtfully, eyes askance. Slowly, he rolls onto his back and his arm twists so that his palm is up and settled beside his ear. His own hand follows it and their fingers intertwine.

“I sing the progress of a deathless soul,” his burglar hushedly murmurs and for not the first time, he finds himself marveling at the man’s perfect, rote memory. “Whom Fate, which God made, but doth not control, placed in most shapes; all times before the law yoked us, and when, and since, in this I sing…”

Angels know he could listen to the rumble of that quiet voice forever.

- o - o - o -

The ciphers, admittedly, get out of hand. What starts as, Do you believe in past lives? You probably think I’m crazy and You’re too good at chess to be crazy; I will see what I can find in the school library turns into You seriously need to better your handwriting and I can tell the news station the Detective Prince drinks his coffee here anytime then I have a geography test coming up that I am NOT looking forward to and Have you been sleeping well? You’ve been looking exhausted lately.

They start writing about anything and everything in between. The latest celebrity gossip from the news on the ancient TV with the crooked antenna in the cafe’s corner to their personal likes and dislikes. You can call me Akira, you know, and Very well; then call me Goro. They share childhood experiences both good and bad and dreams and, Have you ever thought about what you might do after your probation year is finally over?

It’s a question Akechi has always longed to ask as someone who has never fooled himself into thinking he might live past the age of eighteen.

He would be lying if he tried to claim that he didn’t look forward to their notes.

They talk over the counter, as a regular and barista so often do.

But it’s so nice, he thinks, so very nice, to have this one good, hidden thing that he can take home and read alone and know the secret message within is meant for his eyes only. He wonders if there is anyone else in the world so lucky as he is to receive an encrypted message in such a scratchy and slanted font.

- o - o - o -

Eastern Han period, China. 768, Egypt. 1511, Italy. The lives and the motif of their stories blur together in a vague idea of memory. They are not sure how and why everything first began. Ask either one and the answer will be a shrug or a turned-away head, beleaguered by a small smile. Have they always been an ill-fated pair? Has their star-crossed story always been that of a thief and a hero? But who is the hero and who is the thief, because Akechi isn’t quite sure he knows anymore.

If the hero is supposed to be the one who saves the day, then he already knows the answer to their age-old riddle. 

In this life, anyway.

- o - o - o -

It’s done. 

Things are as they should be. Maybe how they were meant to be.

Akechi lays in a pool of his own blood, sirens blaring around him, and stares at the steel ceiling of Shido’s ship and knew, somehow, in the center of him, that it would come to this. 

“Great Destiny the Commissary of God,” he whispers and it’s funny, isn’t it? It should be funny. A 1601 poem being somehow relevant and applicable four hundred years later. Akechi supposes that’s what happens when you have two lives who are again and again and again remembering old things and experiencing new ones but are never able to change the repetitions of their fate, these damnable roles they were meant to play.

“That has mark’d out a path and period for everything,” Akechi murmurs and touches the blood pooling over his chest. He lifts his hand above his face and watches the way his own blood webs between his fingers. “Where we of-spring took, our ways and ends see…at one instant…” 

He thinks of Kurusu, which might be precisely what summons him. He can hear the others’ indignant, pitched cries of, “Joker!” as he jumps onto the top of the bulkhead door. With a graceful leap, arm extended, he grabs the railing that lines the walkway along the side of the partition and flips down. Elegant. Stunning.

A fool.

“What…” Akechi coughs and doesn’t get to finish his question. Kurusu’s knees push under his head, red-gloved hands clutching at his shoulder and pulling him up--up--and suddenly there is screaming pain that whites out his thoughts. “Don’t! Don’t…that hurts.”

“Good. Because you’re supposed to live.”

Kurusu is not one to often talk so when he does, it feels like all of nature snaps to attention. Akechi lifts his head in surprise, which is when Kurusu takes the opportunity to press his fingers into the lining where his dark helmet meets the neck of his suit. Akechi opens his mouth to say something like these costumes aren’t supposed to work like that in the Metaverse, idiot, but then Kurusu yanks up and the helmet slips free and--well--shows what he knows. 

Maybe he’s the fool.

“Stay with me.” 

Kurusu’s hand is new and startlingly warm on his cheek. Akechi decides he likes it.

“Thou knot of all causes, thou whose changeless brow ne’r smiles nor frowns.” Akechi laughs and coughs and murky, red spittle dots his lips. 

“Stop it.”

“I always thought that part described you rather well.” 

“You weren’t supposed to be a murderer, Goro.”

Oh.

Akechi sighs and with it, he feels his strength ebb. “You think so?”  

“I know so.” There’s something in Kurusu’s voice that sounds like anger and it is surprising. It is comforting. It is enough to hear it. “You never have been before. You--you have always been brilliant and clever and just, but Shido took you and made you this when we could have been friends. I won’t forgive him for it.”

“Good.” Akechi’s stomach spasms against his will and the pain is near enough to make him black out. It’s time. “Then get him for me, won’t you, Akira?”

“I will.”

“Who knows. Maybe in our next life, we’ll have better luck.” 

Kurusu tilts his head close and leans in. They have never, not once, shown any intimacy but somehow the feeling of those chapped lips against his brow isn’t in the least bit foreign, nor unwelcome. It is all Akechi has ever hoped for.

“I’ll find you,” Kurusu promises and the words seal like a vow in his chest. “And this time, I won’t let them change you.”

- o - o - o -

Memory blurs, that’s the point. If memory didn’t blur you wouldn’t have the fool’s courage to do things again, again, again that tear you apart.

- Joyce Carol Oates, We Were the Mulvaneys

[imaginesnkdorks]

The Game (Jean x Reader)

Pairing: Jean Kirschtein/Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Dirty jokes and innuendos 

Summary: You and Jean are rivals. Everyone knows that you hate each other’s guts. After humiliating Jean in front of everyone, he figured out a way to make you freeze in your spot. But hey, you’re a quick learner and was soon beating Jean in his own game. Problem is you both enjoy it a little too much.

[a/n: I’ll think of a better title. But yeah, hope you guys enjoy this one... and that face he’s making in the gif? Lovely haha]

         It was another boring day. Instructor Shadis left us to our own devices – as if we’ll take hand-on-hand combat training seriously without him. As expected, Sasha and Connie is goofing around, so does many others. I know this isn’t really graded, but I’m in the mood to kick some ass… and that ass just put a spotlight on himself.

         Jean was going on about how he’s the best at the maneuver gear, lecturing anyone who would listen to his horse face. As if he could still fool us. People already saw how much better Mikasa was at everything than anyone. And not to brag, but I’m not too bad myself. Could wipe the floor with Jean’s smug face.

         “Bold of you to claim you’re the best when Mikasa’s right over there and I’m standing right here.” I displayed my smuggest grin and waited for him to react. I pretty much know now how prideful and egotistical this boy could be.

         “Ha? Why don’t you come and say that to my face?” Jean challenged, to my delight. He really bit onto that, didn’t he? It’s clear he’s annoyed with how red his face has gotten. I’d never say this out loud, but I do enjoy seeing him like this.

         “Fine.” Was all I needed to say to begin our showdown. The people around us began to cheer for either Jean or me. Yeah, apparently there are people who do believe in his talents.

         Jean has a habit of keeping his left open, all I have to do is to take advantage of it. Throwing a feint and his left side was open! “Gotcha! Hyaa!” A kick to the side of his head and he’s on the floor!

         “Wow! Y/N kicked you ass that fast?!” Connie loudly mocked Jean, who’s now holding his head and writhing on the ground, cursing me.

         “How does defeat taste like? Salty like your tears?” I quipped, earning another round of cheers. Damn, this feels good! “I’ll get you back for this!” Was all Jean said before I left him in the dust.

----

         “Ugh, how much longer before we get to rest?” I can’t help but whine. Carrying a huge rucksack and being bundled in thick clothing is uncomfortable enough already, but we also have to hike in the middle of a fucking blizzard! These aren’t training but torture!

         “You’re always so dramatic. I guess that’s how weak people’s brain works.” And it’s just my luck to be in the same team as Jean Kirschtein. It’s been weeks since we fought – well, more like I wiped the floor with him – and he hasn’t stopped goading me like this. It’s honestly more tiring than annoying. Still, the frustration of our current situation can’t help but manifest in me wanting to strangle the life out of him.

         “Come here and I’ll show you what a weak person’s brain looks like.” I said, clearly implying that I’d bash his head, but he got me. “Oh, so now you want to show me your brain?” He was smiling so much you’d think the blizzard froze his face. I went in for a punch, but Reiner caught my hand in the air. Right, he’s here.

         “Stop it, you two!” His huge fist was wrapped around mine, its warmth permeating through our thick gloves. Wow. We’re in the middle of a fucking tundra, wearing thick gloves and Reiner’s hand is still very warm… like super warm it’d probably steam! “Jean, stop being rude to Y/N!” Reiner continued, totally taking not only Jean but also me, by surprise. He’s taking my side! “Y/N, if he tries bothering you, he’d have to face me. No need to hurt your fist with his face. Here, I’ll help you with your load.”

         “What?” Was all I could utter as Reiner carried both his and my rucksacks. I think I’m rooted – no! Frozen to the ground. “What just happened?” I asked again. Despite the blizzard, I heard a whistle coming from Jean. “Would you look at that? Reiner actually left you speechless! If I only knew that… oh!” Jean started to laugh like a madman. I don’t like the sound of that.

         “What? If you only knew what?” This past few minutes, all I’ve been saying was what and I am so tired of it! I need answers, damn it! To my surprise, Jean leaned in his horse-face close to mine. Real close that I noticed his lashes are quite long – ah! What am I doing ogling his eyes!

         “Nothing to concern your pretty head with, sweetheart!” Chills went through my body. And it’s not from the raging blizzard around us. Jean gave me a wink before facing straight ahead.

---

         We are stuck in the cabins. It isn’t really a surprise seeing that the weather only got worse. So was Jean’s… whatever the fuck he’s doing. After that little bit outside, Jean tried, again and again, to enter my personal space, winking shamelessly you’d think he has something in his eyes. As much as it pains me to say, this makes me flustered and I can’t think of anything to say or do. Good thing I’m not bunkmates with Ymir or I’d never hear the end of this… being powerless to Jean’s… Charms?

         And it’s just my luck that Jean is standing in front of our doorway, a shit-eating grin on his face. “What do want?” I asked, annoyance very evident on my voice, my face and maybe even my posture. He didn’t take the bait. He was still all smiles while I’m the one getting angrier by the minute.

         To my surprise, Jean pushed me to the wall, arms barricading me in. “H..hey!” His face closed in on mine again, so close I could feel his warm breath. “Had I known I have this effect on you, I would have done this all the time. Seeing you flustered like this?”  I can’t believe it was even possible, but Jean somehow got even closer and my eyes closed on their own. My heart pounding so loud it’s almost all I could hear until a soft and gentle chuckle right by my ear. And just like that, Jean was already walking away when I opened my eyes.

         After trying to catch my breath, I entered my bedroom to see Krista already in her sleepwear. “Oh, Y/n! Your face is so red, are you alright?”  She rushed from the bed to where I’m rooted in my spot in front of the door. Her blue eyes peered at me curiously and full of concern. I shook my head and muttered a weak “nothing.” Before changing to my sleepwear.

         I was already lying on the top bunk when there was a sudden knocking to our door. I heard Krista walk over and open it, then heard Ymir’s loud voice. Ugh, could this day get any worse?

         “Ah! Krista! Why don’t you switch with Annie? I’d love to share a room with you!”

         “Shhh! Y/N is probably already sleeping. And no, we can’t just do that! You really need to get along better with people other than me.”  Ymir was not convinced and tried to persuade Krista more and louder. “Hey! Will you at least quiet down? I’m trying to sleep here.” Ymir turned her attention to me, and with a cunning glint in her eye, she stepped closer. She’s so tall it’s easy for her to keep eye contact with me this close even though I’m lying on the top bunk.

         “Why Y/N! Jean was laying it on thickly earlier, huh? I knew that idiot liked you! And you seem to like him, too!” Color me surprised. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, sitting up… or lied. I kind of know what she’s talking about. “Oh? You were a blushing mess! First time I ever saw you tongue-tied in Jean’s presence; you know! Maybe all those times you kicked his ass before he should have just kissed you and you might have dropped on the floor!”

         Krista was scolding Ymir for teasing me like this, but I think I just realized something. She’s right, I might have dropped to the floor – not because I like Jean or something! But when Reiner held my hand and I froze, Jean must’ve thought he could do that to shut me up! Ooooohhh… I know what to do now!

---

         It’s early in the morning and the weather is better than yesterday. A lot better it might be sunny later. I have kitchen duty today, and thankfully there’s maybe only fifteen of us here. That means less cutting and peeling. That also means less help, apparently. Jean was already in the kitchen when I got there, and it would be just the two of us. Great.

         He’s already started on the broth and is peeling potatoes. At my arrival, he had this brilliant smile. It gave me pause. I’d never say this out loud, especially to Jean’s face, but he does have a beautiful smile. “Good morning Y/N.” Jean made a show of slowly setting down the knife and potato he’s holding, giving me his full attention. “So, how do you like eggs in the morning?” His wink was infuriatingly attractive, pretty much like the rest of him when he’s confident.

         Wait – I can’t let him affect me so much I’d stop functioning! I decided last night to give Jean a taste of his own medicine. Taking deep breaths to calm down, I decided to start with my plan now. “I’m not really into eggs. More of a sausage person, really. Long and thick ones.” Okay, that was very dirty. Definitely, something I’d never say to anyone for real. Oh, my goodness. I was met only with silence, though. Turns out Jean turned the brightest shade of red I’ve ever seen him, and his mouth was quivering – like he can’t decide what to say or if he could actually say something.

         Success! This gave me the courage to do more… damage. Biting my lip, I walked closer to Jean, tiptoed and whispered to his ear, “I know the game you’re playing, Jean. Very bad of you to try and beat me this way. But…” I paused for effect, putting a hand to his chest and goodness! His heart is thumping wildly! This is fun! “I like bad boys.” And I gave him a wink. Might I say, seeing him speechless like that is very satisfying.

         ---

         Cooking breakfast with Jean was surprisingly not awkward. Maybe it was the high of being successful at making him flustered. I don’t really care. But he was quiet through it all, and once the redness was only on his ears, he looked like he was deep in thought. And I have an inkling it won’t be good. By lunchtime I know it wasn’t good.

         The moment I entered the dining hall with Krista and Ymir, Jean and I locked eyes. I was right, his confidence was back, and a rather smoldering smile was on his face. Since this is a small dining hall, we are seated across from each other. Phew, I guess it’ll be a showdown then. And then he began.

         “Y/N, I’m afraid I have to ask you to leave.” Jean said, mirth playing on his eyes and lips. “Oh?” I inquired, raising a brow to him. My, I really am better at taking his flirtations head-on now that we’re on the same page. “You're making the other girls look bad.” He said, throwing yet another one of his winks. I can’t help and smile at that. That was good. Real good.

         “Whoa! You’re saying that to Y/N when Krista is right beside her? Love makes you blind, huh?” Connie asked. Love? Wait! He just insulted me! “Hey! What are you insinuating, you bald midget!” Yes, I have a temper. “I’m not bald – “ Connie was about to say something more but Jean cut him off. “Yeah, what are you saying?”

         “Ha, the lovebirds are teaming up against Connie.” I heard one of our fellow trainees say. Lovebirds?

         “Alright! I’m sorry!” Connie surrendered. The rest of the meal went back to what normally happens – just idle chatter. But Jean and I won’t stop throwing exceptionally flowery words towards each other, making those sitting around us amused and uncomfortable.

---

         Weeks passed and our game continued. Even during training where I missed a titan dummy’s neck because Jean said something about me calling him daddy. He just took it to a new level, his effect becoming… intense.

         I have to think of a way to get back at him. Sitting by the pond at the back of our barracks should help me focus better. But Jean kept popping up in my head! I know I’m doing this to get back at him, make him lose points at training… but the way he’d smile at me or how he’d light up when I walk in the room makes me feel things. Which is dumb because, for him, this is all about pushing me out of the top ten! That thought makes me sad, actually. Ahhh!

         “Thought I’d find you here.”

         “Jean?” He smiled, and maybe it’s the stupid part of me but it looks so beautiful and genuine.

         “You always run out here. And it’s pretty boring inside without you.” Jean confessed. Is that redness creeping up his neck? Am I hearing what I want to hear? Silence enveloped us. I don’t really know what to say. I can’t remember a time where Jean and I weren’t fighting. Oh, our first week. We used to talk here during our breaks. Then somehow, we became rivals.

          “Y/N, you’re awfully quiet.” Jean asked, leaning in closer. And like instinct, my head decided to play with him. Dipping my hand in the pond, I flick a tiny bit of water at him. The confusion evident on his face, and I just say "Well, now that we're both wet..." Now what? I didn’t think of what would happen next. But Jean did. For half a second his eyes were very intense then he took hold of my face. His touch was like fire and lighting all at once and against everything in me, my eyelids fluttered closed.

         I felt his breath on my lips shortly before I felt his. His lips on mine. Jean is kissing me! My hands traveled to his head, threading through his hair. I can’t help but melt into the kiss. But then it was over.

         Jean had this wild look – like something really good happened to him. I can hear my heart’s pounding in my head – which is impossible, right?

         “Wow.” Was all he said. “Let’s do that again.” I can’t help but agree. “Yeah.” I said back.

Copyright © 2019 by imaginesnkdorks. All rights reserved 

[wangjiplayingwangji]

Ok, question, have you considered a Steven Universe AU for JoJo? If so I would love to know your take on it!

Don’t get me started on SU AU’s I had a whole blog dedicated to me and my friends gemsona’s and how they fit into the SU world called “The Imperfects”

BUT since you ASKED (and these are based more off personalities rather than appearance/color)

( Also, these are those depicted on my blog! I will attempt to go into more detail if anyone interested but this is all for now and it is L O N G )

Jonathan - Topaz

From what we’ve seen of them they were big hulking gems used more for defense and guarding than offense attack but would also be nothing to scoff at in a battle. Not to mention the ones we did see really didn’t want to hurt anyone. 

Speedwagon - zircon

The persecuting and defensive gems in the diamond court case, I feel like Speedwagon would be a good one. He’s smart, a good judge of character and has a good heart. The zircon on stevens side wanted to do her best to help him even though he was technically an enemy, just like SW wasn’t originally on Jonathan's side but had a change of heart when he really spoke with him and heard of his noble quest to save his father. They also seem to have a bit of an anxious streak and that suites our beloved SW as well.

I imagine they’d escape to the off-color caves after Jonathan refuses to hurt someone and is put on trial only for SW to not agree with the results and choose to save his life putting them both on the lamb with their only option to be to retreat underground.  

Joseph - Tigers Eye

Although we don’t see one in the show it just seems like something that would fit Joseph’s colorful and unique personality as well as it retains some color quality of a Topaz with a twist of it’s own. It’s also said to be a stone meant for clearing out anxiety and fear to bring peace, balance and stimulate action and decision making which I think sums up Josephs character pretty well. 

Caesar - Aquamarine

The aquamarines we met were callous and prideful in their gemstones as well as obviously high-class gems. They’re efficient, ruthless and skilled, just like our favorite bubble blowing baby. Their snotty attitudes seem to match him well, as well as when they decide to go easy on their partner rather than report them to the diamonds which means they do have some reluctant compassion. 

They’d probably end up a Romeo and Juliet situation where they both operate under a different diamond but something draws them together, with Joseph being a little too impulsive and Caesar a little too strict and always lecturing him but never reporting or stopping his behavior. However one of Josephs pranks goes too far and he’s sentenced to be shattered on one of the earth’s spires. Caesar tries to use his status to beg for his life but it proves useless, leaving him no choice, he takes him and jumps. The fall and extra weight damage his wings leaving him with only the ability to conjure water bubbles. Joseph feels guilty be Caesar sees it as a start to their new life. 

Jotaro - Garnet

Cold and calculating but with a surprisingly sweet side and unexpected sense of humor. Garnet seems to suit Jotaro to a T, not to mention being incredibly powerful (however he is not two lesbians in a trenchcoat) He always seems to have a plan and know what’s going to happen next. The rock that everyone relies on, Jotaro as a garnet is both the sword and the shield.

Kakyoin - Pearl

Originally made to bend to everyone’s will but his own Kakyoin is a pearl that fights back. He’s polite, intellectual, and respected among the ranks of the crystal gems. Having escaped from the clutches of homeworld he was originally made on earth, but on a raid to clear a village to make room for a new kindergarten he found himself appalled at homeworlds methods and rebelled from his general and master.

They meet on the battlefield. Jotaro fighting for homeworld and Kakyoin for the earth and crystal gems. Their weapons clash as their fight takes on an unbelievable intensity and at one point Jotaro tears the scarf kakyoin wraps around himself to hide his gem. In that moment of confusion upon seeing it’s a pearl he’s fighting Kakyoin gets the upper hand and Jotaro is poofed. Later he reforms in a destabilization chamber on a broken ship with Kakyoin waiting for him.  The pearl demands why he held back during their fight and Jotaro counters with asking what a pearl is doing on the front lines, if he had some kind of death wish. Their conversation goes back and forth for some time before Kakyoin sits on the floor opposite his captive and end’s up regaling his tale of servitude, horror at the destruction of the diamonds and how he decided to change because he wanted to be something more. For the first time, Jotaro questions his purpose, and wonders if there’s more to life than being a made to order soldier. 

Josuke - Rose Quartz

A made to order soldier, as is any quartz. But they don’t lack for personality. They are smart, compassionate and even a bit naive. However, they are more of a backline soldier that in the meantime gather resources and help in the creation of more kindergartens. They are stil respected and powerful gems that enjoy games and the company of others, with the ability to hurt and heal they make a fearsome enemy and kind ally. A bit childish at times but powerful and sweet Josuke would make a perfect rose quartz.

Okuyasu - Amythest

Similar to the rose quartzes amethysts are also made to order soldier type gems however they are a stronger more durable gemstone made moreso for the frontlines and guard work. They tend to be on the goofier and denser side of the quartz spectrum with them being the most expendable and easiest to control as for the others made to be more general types such as jaspers. However, what they may lack in strategery they make up for in power. Amythests are formidable opponents and can be darkly serious when it matters, a stack contrast to their typical fun-loving and silly nature.  

Josuke and Oku meet on earth in their respective kindergarten. Although they both popped out knowing what they were, what their purpose was everything seemed to stop when they met. A connection of some kind, a feeling of fate or some kind of magnetism. They met in the middle as the rest of their gems march on around them. Josuke cracks a small smile and says ‘nice gemstone’ Okuyasu lets out a laugh and says ‘thanks i like yours too’. After they get so lost in conversation they don’t notice their agates watching them and suddenly they've pulled apart and directed to opposite sides of the kindergarten to stand in formation. Reluctantly they return but keep their eyes on each other. The pair is soon known as a couple of troublemakers, constantly getting distracted from their work and stopping to talk much to the annoyance of their authoritative gems and needing to be ordered back to their work. It all came to a head one day however when Josuke’s agate, sick of watching them disobey orders, she forcibly got between them, destabilizer in hand. Her intention to poof the rose quartz and send him to the opposite side of the galaxy where they would never see each other again. It took Okuyasu everything he had to fight off the gems holding him down but in a fit of rage, he managed to fight them off and throw himself into Josuke before the destabilizer hit him and there was a burst of white light. When he next came too he and Josuke were in a forest, apparently safe for now. 

Giorno - Agate

Giorno is a yellow agate in charge of the human zoo. It was a place off-color gems with no real place on homeworld were sent for a chance to have a purpose. Misshapen amethysts and disproportional jaspers were his crew, not that he minded. Despite being overcooked himself, he was a bit too short, he took his role seriously and commanded the respect of the other gems despite his imperfections. A natural leader and commanding presence Giorno is respected everywhere he goes and has amassed quite the following.

Mista - Ruby

A ruby in the elite guard in charge of protecting the agate in charge of the human zoo, Mista isn’t quite like the average ruby. Undercooked, he stands taller over most and towers over his charge, a yellow agate. He’s a bit of a dunce at times and can be spacey during boring conversations or events but he takes his duty seriously and speaks casually, even to his superior, however, the agate does not seem to mind his friendliness. Mista is a great ruby, a quick thinker and he throws himself into his job, but off hours he’s fun lovable and ditsy, making him a favorite among his peers. 

Mista and Giorno because of their roles spend a decent amount of time together, and often times Mista ends up making empty one-sided conversations as they wander the halls of the ship, uncomfortable with silence. He’d gotten used to the silence that it was a surprise when the agate indulged him by responding one day. After that, they talked fairly regularly as they checked the status of the ship and its inhabitants. They established a comfort, so much so Giorno ended up letting it slip one night that he’d love to visit the planet the humans' hail from and see the organic life he’d grown to adore inside the zoo. The plants, the water, the animals, it was a rare wild beauty within the sterile walls of the diamond authority. Mista on an impulse suggested the go to earth, much to the surprise of the agate. But Mista explained nothing ever changes, its the same in and out, he was sure anyone would be able to handle it, like holly blue agate. A ruthless commander and Giornos second in command, if anyone would be able to handle it, it would be her. And so for a night, they planned to escape and see the earth, but, suppose a night turned into a few thousand.