#i have to move out bc i can barely afford this place and its already insanely cheap compared to the city

[orbmanson7]

how do y'all motivate yourself to do anything?? I'm amazed I can even remember to eat once a day, go to work most days, but this shit is ridiculous, man

[keilemlucent]

if you are interested, i would like to present my dear salem with hero hawks and his little horny crush on his innocent assistant bc man’s corruption kink go brrrrrr😇

okay look LOOK i have... such a thing for hawks getting a h*rd on for his sweet, far-too kind PA.

(NSFW)

word count: 2.5k

warnings: dubcon, coersion, (a little bit of) yandere hawks, reader wears lingerie, reader is sorta oblivious,  sugar daddy hawks, scumbag hawks, power imbalance, hawks is a manipulative bastard but its hot so who cares <3

...

“Are you sure this is... appropriate, sir?” 

No, no, definitely not, not at all. Taking his sweet, desperately-in-need-of-a-break PA out on a little shopping spree was definitely crossing a lot of professional lines, but how could he care? He was far more focused on the wobbly way ‘sir’ had dripped off your tongue.

It wasn’t sin, but he’d get you there, he was quite persuasive. 

The little shopping trip (literally) landed you at a luxury mall across Fukuoka, many-floored and lavishing decorated with twinkling, bright bulbs and crystal on every fixture. The stores were expensive, too expensive for you to afford on your own but Keigo knew how hard you’d been working! All that extra paperwork (he’d been purposefully giving you because it kept you around the office later and more often) had been getting done beautifully, and you deserved a treat. Many of them. 

Consider it an early bonus.

You already had quite a few bags dangling off your arms, the cords and ribbons digging into your arms (god, he wished he could make some marks of his own--). And Keigo had decided to treat you to one, final stop. He guided you to the store entrance with a hand on your lower back.

God help you, a lingerie store.

Nothing cheap, only custom-made and designer pieces. It was more of a boutique, some places private where no one would bother the two of you. 

He watched your expression, the pull of your brows and the way your pupils dilated. It might’ve been from a bit of ill-placed stress, but he’s sure he can get your eyes just as inky other ways, if given the opportunity. 

“This is remarkably appropriate, dove,” He hummed and ushered you inside the store entrance, flashing a grin to the starry-eyed salesclerk. His hand drifted downward, just over the upper curves of your ass, just to watch you squirm. “Consider it a reward! You’ve been doing so much good for me and the agency, you deserve a treat or two, don’t you think?”

You shifted the bags on your arms and dared to meet his gaze with your own, meek and wide, “I-I think this is more than ‘a treat or two’--”

“Then shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, thanking me for my generosity then?” Keigo smirked as your expression faltered. You were way too easy and god, he fucking loved it.

Before you had a chance to fret anymore, he assured you quietly that everything was alright. A bit of praise to ice the pinpricks he left behind. He shooed you into the fitting rooms, pointing a beaming smile at a clerk and getting to work. 

He’d have you spoiled, whether you liked it or not.

...

You sat on the plush bench of the fitting room, hands in fist and lip tucked between your teeth. You chewed on it, swallowing around your dry throat. Hawks’ voice drifted back from the salesfloor, though you couldn’t tell what he was saying. You could pick up words like ‘sweet’ and ‘cute’ and you could only assume the words were about the bright-eyed, big-titted employee you saw when you walked in.

You squeeze the fabric of your skirt and tried to let some of the tension in your shoulders dissipate. 

“Oh, wow, dove, the selection they have here is amazing!” Hawks whistled as he returned to the fitting room, alone, carrying an armful of padded, velvet hangers. 

“I can imagine,” You wished you could have looked around a bit yourself, but Hawks had a much better eye for these things than you did. You were very fortunate to have him around. 

He arranged them on a gold railing nearby, wings tucked to his back as to not crowd the small space of the dressing room.

It was truly just a single room, though it was large enough. Six-sided, each wall complete with a well-padded, velvet bench seat to idle on. The middle of the room had a little raised platform, leading to three, angled mirrors. They were massive and felt a bit too revealing as Hawks hummed to himself nearby.

The only thing separating you from the rest of the store was a heavy, velvet draping. 

Hawks plopped onto the cushion next to you, letting out a deep sigh and leaning back. You watched him, gaze flickering from the garments on the rack and the exposed patch of his chest visible from the unpopped buttons of his shirt. 

His feathers brushed up against your arm and you shuddered.

“Now, sweet thing,” He clicked his tongue, jerking his gaze to the hangers. “I picked out some pretty sweet pieces for you. Why don’t you try them on and let me know what you think, hm?”

You nodded, though your stomach felt like there was suddenly lead in it. From the looks of the lace and silks, those pieces weren't going to cover much of anything. You mentally sparred with yourself.

It’s not... that bad. It’s not like he’s going to see anything more than he would if you were wearing a swimsuit. 

Besides, this a gift, right? You should at least show him what he’d paid for on an actual body. 

He had you so well-trained--

You stood, moving to the rack on shaking legs and examining the pieces.

They’re all... a bit whorish. None of those soft babydolls and teddies that folks wore in those softcore pornos that you definitely never watched. The pieces Hawks picked for you aren’t the least bit modest. They’re all lace, mesh, and ribbons. Stockings and garters that looked like they might be a tich too snug. You grab the least garish-looking piece. 

And Hawks was still in the room, body lax and slumped against the cushions.

His eyes lazily opened, a bushy brow-raising, “You good, dove?” 

“... Aren’t you gonna step out?” 

He chuckled and you knew you were fucked. Just not literally, not yet. 

“Why the hell would I do that?” Hawks laughed and righted himself. His vibrant gold eyes bore into yours, though they looked more black than topaz by that point. 

You swallowed. 

“I would prefer if you d-did.”

“And if I don’t?” His voice oozed something that made your knees weak. “What then? I know you don’t like disappointing me.”

You didn’t, but this was a bit far. ‘A bit’. 

“... s-sir, please,” You begged, albeit quietly. 

This was crossing lines. As much as Hawks gave you special treatment at the agency, literally and figuratively taking you under his wing and tending to your needs as he saw them and has he saw fit, stripping and playing dress-up in expensive lingerie definitely was too far.

As much as part of you adored the attention, you tried to keep that quiet. Stuffed down and hidden. Hawks was your boss, and you had to keep yourself occupied with his busy schedule and mountains of paperwork, lest you allow yourself to dissolve into thinking his attentions were anything other than favoritism. 

Oh my god, you really were that dense

“’Please’?” Hawks cocked his head to the side, the corners of his lips curling. “‘Please’ what, dovey? Tell me.”

You let out a shaking breath, “Hawks, this is remarkably inappropriate--” 

“Maybe,” He cuts you off swiftly, a flap of his wings pushing him to his feet and directly in front of you. “You just need some help? That’s it?”

Your mouth went dry. He wasn’t wrong, not really. 

“That’s all, huh?” Hawks ran a hand through his hair, his wings curling around the room, too-wide and fluffed for the small space. “Should’ve just said something. I imagine you don’t do this kind of thing often.”

“N-no, I don’t.”

Does anyone? 

“That’s alright, I know you try your best and just need that extra push, hm?” Hawks sighed, deep in his chest. 

With the scarlet swallowing your peripheral vision, you feel like you’re suffocating. Maybe in a good way. You nodded, pliant.

He always knows you. What you want, what you crave, what you need. 

Nimble fingers untucked your blouse from your waist, and you yipped at the chill of his fingers. He was undeterred, loosening the garment and immediately going for the buttons.

One by one, they came undone and you wrap your arms tighter around your middle. Hawks ogled, openly and without a care. It made something in you writhe, but you still wanted more of it. His attention, overt affections that supposedly mean nothing-- you want it.

He slid the blouse from your shoulder, letting it fall to the ground. You watched as his feather shuddered, rippling as he let out a few harsh breaths. You knew how you must look, hot and flushed to the touch. Bare on your upper half, sans a cheap bra that had seen better. 

“Are you sure--” You weren’t sure what you were going to ask, but Hawks didn’t let you say it besides.

“Yes, of course, obviously,’” He licked his goddamn lips. A taloned-finger caught the pilling strap of your bra, snapping it against your shoulder. “Besides, look at this! Can’t have you representing the agency, me, and my brand wearing shit like this.”

Something burned in your gut, some mix of shame and arousal that was threatening to spill from the wet corners of your eyes. 

Hawks dropped to his knees, so fast you hardly could register it. His hands hooked in your skirt by the first two knuckles and tugged and he went down. The sound of splitting fabric cracked in the air, and your skirt fell to the floor in tatters.

And Hawks, the fucker, hovered just inches away from your covered cunt. The cheap cotton of your panties did nothing to shield you from the hot breath that he fanned over you.

“H-Hawks!” You cried out, attempting to push at his shoulders with sweaty palms. “What the hell are you doing?!”

“Just taking a closer look,” He gave you no time to protest as those quick fingers of his pulled the elastic of your panties, tugging them down your thighs. He had the decency to tap your ankles, one at a time, so you could step out of the garment. “You don’t mind, do you?”

You let him. 

Perhaps you should’ve protested a bit more. Maybe. But it wasn’t like this wasn’t your wildest fantasy. Your sweet, too-kind boss, spoiling you. You weren’t sure if you’d thought about Hawks that way at first, but he had gotten to you at some point. The impromptu lunches, the late nights together, the walks and flights home. There was even that one he’d managed to wrestle a guy getting too handsy at a club with (how had he known you’d even been there?)

Hawks unclipped your bra, throwing the thing to the side with a  look akin to disgust. He snatched the hanger and garment from your hand and nodded toward the platform.

“Stand over there like a good girl for me, okay? Don’t take your eyes off yourself.”

You couldn’t disobey him, could you?

You’d seen what he did to people who crossed him, when it really mattered. He didn’t put his heart or energy into something unless he really, actually cared. And the handful of times you’d seen that go to shit had left memories of sharpened feathers and terror-filled eyes in their wake.

But you were good for him. His assistant who always made sure his meetings lined up with his patrols, and that everything was brief unless entirely necessary otherwise. You were the one who made sure he had caffeine nearby and a full belly, even on his most busy of days. 

He’d never do anything other than be kind, right?

You didn’t want to find out otherwise. 

He approached you from behind, the silk of the garment tucked over his arm. His eyes looked predatory, gleaming and inky. 

He only stopped when his chest is flush to your back, hands finding their home just above your hips with a squeeze. You shuddered at the feeling, new and raw and you couldn’t tell if you hated or loved it. 

“I want to see how this looks on you, god,” Hawks groaned, nails biting into your skin. “Hold still for me, dove.”

You did.

You didn’t dare move an inch as Hawks took his sweet time dressing you up. The garment is silken straps, the lace wrapping around the curves of your hips and chest, securely with expert bows that he pats into place after each one.

It was impossible to ignore the bulge pressing into your ass. Even as he pulled the pair of panties between your cheeks, stroking the lace and the fat with a wide palm, you were far more focused on the heat and hardness slowly grinding at the other cheek.

He tied you up expertly, and you watched in the mirrors, seeing each angle of it. The way his hands squeezed and pulled at your flesh along the way. The hungry glint in his eyes as he traced your figure. The way his wings seemed to shake and flutter in tandem with your short, quick breaths.

You were truly at his mercy. 

“Look at that,” He whistled low, grabbing your jaw and pulling your gaze just where he’d like. “Tied up like a pretty present I told you this would be good, didn’t I?”

“Y-You did.”

Hawks sighed, draping himself over your shoulders and nuzzling into your neck. You could feel the part of his plush lips, the way they drag over your skin. You swore you a nip or two.

His gaze met yours in the mirror. One of his hands trailed low, very low, sliding over top of the lace panties and cupping your sex. His index fingers lazily traced your lips through the fabric, idle. His other went to grope your chest, more insistent as he palmed at you, pinching a nipple as you began to sputter. 

A warbled moan cracked from your lips as Hawks fingers dipped below the seams of the pretty garment, rubbing at just the rights parts of you, tugging your body flush to his. 

“W-Wait, Hawks!” You wrapped a hand around on his wrist, begging your breath to stay somewhat even. “What if someone hears? Or one of the employees comes back? What if--”

“Do you think I care?” Hawks groaned, grunting as he ground into your ass. The unmistakable sound of fabric tearing cut through the room (again) and the fabric of his pants hit the ground. And suddenly you could feel how hard and hot he was. 

Something twisted in your gut and your legs rubbed together. Hawks caught your gaze, scarlet enveloping the room from the sides of your vision and the mirror in front of you.

Hawks shifted your face toward his, nosing along your cheek. The grip on your jaw was replaced by one on your throat; he was hardly exerting any pressure but the threat and meaning were clear.

Keigo has you right where he wants you. He always has, always will. You’re just a bit too... naive? No, maybe dumb... That’s a bit mean, isn’t it?”

“You need this just as I do,” He spoke low and rolling, touch burning like embers. “You know you do. I know you do. You trust me, don’t know?”

All you could do was nod before Keigo slotted his lips to yours, staking a claim that was only new to you. He nipped at your bottom lip, tugged until you were wincing into his mouth. He caught every sound, every little gesture of yours was his, just like you were. Keigo kicked himself for waiting for this so long, but he could be ginger, under the right circumstances. Ones that benefited him. He could only hope you were as good of a fuck as you were fun to toy with. 

You’d be sin yet, Keigo resolved as he pulled away. He just had to coax you there first, and he wasn’t against more... direct methods.

Maybe you’d finally get it then.

[donttouchtheneednoggle]

I literally love the idea of Elyan adopting the Druid ghost boy it’s just 🥺🥺🥺 it’s so lovely

Do you have any headcanons about it/ about their relationship/ things they get up to together that you can share without spoiling the story if you’re still writing it 🥰 (I’d love to hear them but don’t worry if you’re saving them for the fic 😊💕)

LOSIGN my mind there is so much i want to do with this and i've barely written any of it down but tysmmm for this ask <333

so i recently realised i could set the fic after In the moment we're lost and found so that's happening :D

everything that happened in 4x10 is the same except gwen's already queen and lancelot's still alive cos ain't nobody got time for that shit

the boy is found in the woods by a patrol like the day after freezing cold soaking wet and absolutely terrified

elyan's the only one he lets near him and to start with he lives in the next door room to him in the knight's corridor and has nightmares like every night

after a few nights of this they move into the smith's old house in the lower town that gwen's just left so the boy's not literally surrounded by the source of his trauma

the boy's still pretty terrified and el's pretty eehhhh about the knights and everything now anyway so lowkey quits and starts working part time at the forge bc the people they gave it to have just had a baby so it works out well

the boy is scared of the dark, water, silence and cold so the forge despite not being the most child friendly place you can think of is actually really good for him :D

poor elyan's going through a very confusing time bc he went through this trauma that's completely turned his view of arthur and the knights and literally everything upside down he and percival literally just confessed their feelings and kissed, he's barely thought about ever being a parent and KAZOINK suddenly he's got this kid who is dependent on him he's up every night with him he's worrying about how he can ever be as good a father as tom was even when he had to work so much of the time and elyan can afford not to do that but what if he lets the kid down anyway like he lets everyone down-

thankfully he has gwen and percival to help him as the boy starts to trust them too and el doesn't have to do this alone :')

gwen teaches the boy knitting and brings him cakes and she's the second person he becomes comfortable around

el's like to percy ik we weren't expecting this and you didn’t sign up for this and its ok if you don't want to be with me- and percy's like wellll you didn't sign up for this either maybe let's just see what happens?

percival's mother was a druid so he's familiar with some of their traditions and stuff some of which the boy remembers so that helps a bit and he's so gentle and def had younger sibs and even though the boy doesn't trust him to start with he does grow to

it doesn't happen officially in the fic but yeah later on percy adopts the boy too :D

the boy still gets overwhelmed when there's a lot of people and different noises so gwen makes him a matching hoodie thing to el to help block out some of the sound :D

he really likes hugs but only from elyan and even when he starts to make happy memories and isn't so frightened he doesn't really talk or smile much but no one ever bugs him about it <3

he doesn't remember very much of his life before and doesn't even remember his own name which is so sad but elyan tells him he can pick a new one for himself like el did himself and after elyan tells him about his dad he settles on thomas <3

i do have another fic set like four years later even tho the timelines are a bit shaky that's much more likely to get finished and is basically just pure fluff, magic's been legalised over the course of the last fic, elyan and percy are married and thomas has a little sister, percy's left the knights too and is the physician's (merlin's) assistant, and things are just wonderful 🥰

[hqhunybuns]

hiiii can u plz do a kuroo first time blowjob?? thanks i love your blog!!!!!

hi sorry i was too busy playing animal crossing but im back

First Time Head with Kuroo

It was a bad idea that popped into your head, a terribly devilish thought that you were sure would get you in trouble-- but it was worth a shot, wasn't it? 

You were the Nekoma volleyball team manager, and also the captain's girlfriend. What a wonderful world you live in; the team adored you, your boyfriend thought you were as sweet as sugar. The truth be told, you and Tetsurou had only gotten to first base the entirety of your eight month relationship. You were shy when it came to physical affection, and you had a bad habit of getting too nervous when your boyfriend's hands started wandering further than your shoulders. He was always the perfect gentleman when you had to stop due to your erratic heartbeat, and while you profusely apologized every time, he took it in stride and never pressured you to do anything you weren't comfortable with.

It wasn't that you didn't think he was attractive, it was quite the opposite. He was Adonis-- tall, lean muscle, abs, strong jaw line, hair that you wanted to run your hands through. He was too perfect and it intimidated you. Other than the physical limitations you had set, it was a great relationship. The two of you could talk for hours, joking and laughing. His personality fit yours, he didn't get upset at your sarcastic quips, he actually enjoyed then and retorted back with just as much sass.

"Y/n, what's the problem? Why do you look so nervous?" your friend Aimee asked once class had been released for lunch.

"Yeah, and you look really sweaty..." your other friend Sayori mentioned, motioning to your red face.

Fanning your face with your hands, you admitted, "I'm going to do the deed today, that's why I look like a hot mess."

The two girls grinned and squealed, gaining the attention of the few stragglers in the classroom. You hushed then quickly, hiding your head in your arms. "Guys, please! This is already a stressful day! I don't need you all screaming and making a big deal of it." you mumbled into your arms.

Someone patted your head and ruffled your hair. "You really must be nervous if you're scolding us instead of screaming too."

"You may be right, Sayori-chan, normally Y/n is the first one of us to scream about something exciting."

You lifted your head and glared at your friends while trying to hide your growing smile. Aimee grabbed your cheeks and squished them together while Sayori hoped with excitement, "You're finally growing up! You put on your big girl thong today!"

"Oh my God, please don't ever say that again!" you groaned, trying to push the brown haired girls hands away from your hurting cheeks.

Sayori stopped her jumping and put her hands on small hips. "But it's true, you're going to be be the first one of us to actually put one of those things in your mouth."

Aimee stopped her assault on your poor face and rebutted, "Hey! I almost did!"

"Yeah, but then you woke up from your dream and realized Morisuke wasn't actually there." you teased light heartily.

The three of you laughed and you finally stood from your desk, stepping out of the classroom with your two best friends. Your trio hiked up the steps to the roof, opening the door and scoping it out, making sure no one had claimed your lunch spot for themselves. The warn sun caressed your face and the breeze carried the scent of the freshly bloomed flowers with it, pollen included. It was a gorgeous day, barely any clouds in the sky and birds happily perched on the edge of the roof, singing songs in hopes of finding a mate.

Plopping down on one of the benches, you confessed, "I've never seen his... you know what in person, what if I hurt him?"

Sayori tied her red hair in a messy bun before responding. "I've given a hand job before, they're surprisingly durable; you're only going to hurt him if you bite him or something like that."

Before you could respond with a smart ass comment, the devil named Tetsurou texted you.

 Volleybitch (4) unread messages

Hey doll face (Ф∀Ф)

im bored Kenma wont stop playing fire emblem to talk to me

he keeps talking about defeating the death knight but idk who that is

we still on for tonight? you get to pick the movie as long as its good

 You rolled your eyes as you responded.

tell him to recruit lysithea and he can one shot him with her lol

yeah we're still on!! the fams gone for the weekend so we can actually use the big tv in the living room

 just promise to take a shower before we leave bc i dont want u sweating up my couch you stink

literally all the time

nasty sweaty man

Putting your phone away, you focused on your friends who were still more excited about your nights rendezvous than you were. It was true that you didn't want your boyfriend making your house smelling like a gym, but you didn't want to put your mouth on him when he was just running around getting sweaty. You had standards, and smelling and tasting sweat was not apart of those standards

"You ready to ditch this popsicle stand?" Kuroo asked, tossing his water bottle in his gym bag. His hair was slightly damp from the quick shower he had just had.

You rolled your eyes and replied sardonically, "With you? Never."

 "You're right, look at that eligible bachelor over there waiting to watch a shitty movie with you tonight." He walked over to you and flipped you, pointing at volleyball pole that was being put away. "That handsome man wants to take you to dinner, but he can only afford McDonalds. So sad, Y/n, you can only get something off of the dollar menu."

 You raised your eyebrows in fake consideration. "Perhaps, but he doesn't have any muscles, so it's a hard pass. Sorry, mister pole, but you're still single." 

Your tall boyfriend laughed and guided you towards the gym doors, his hand on your back. You bit back a blush when he rubbed your back slightly. You're about to give this man a blowjob and you wanna blush when he touches your back? You were hopeless.

Your tall boyfriend laughed and guided you towards the gym doors, his hand on your back. You bit back a blush when he rubbed your back slightly. You're about to give this man a blowjob and you wanna blush when he touches your back? You were hopeless.

"So what movie have you decided on? It better not be anything related to Minions or Legos, or I promise you I will cry." Tetsurou deadpanned.

Humming, you grinned. "It's a surprise."

The ten minute walk to your house felt like an hour. You and Kuroo talked about the tournament coming up, but all you think of was the fact that you were going to suck this hot man's cock. The thought made you blush and salivate. Ideally his shirt would be off, letting you see how his work out regime gave him a delicious torso. You wondered how big he was, how thick it would be; would he taste good, would he be shaved? What if he didn't want you to suck him off? Would he find it repulsive?

"Y/n? Hey, dollface, we're at your house, stop walking or you're going to end up at your neighbors front door," Tetsurou's voice brought you back from your daze.

"Oh, sorry, I was just thinking of a strategy for the team and I guess I got lost in thought." you chuckled nervously, forcing your blush to evade.

Unlocking the door and stepping inside, your heart officially started to race. How was this going to start? 

Right, start a movie! 

"I'll start a movie if you wanna go get us something to drink from the kitchen," you suggested as you made your way towards the living room.

You shut the blinds in fear your neighbors would end up looking into them and seeing your lewd actions and quickly double checked to see if you locked the front door. Call yourself paranoid, but you didn't need anything interrupting. 

Tetsurou returned with two glasses of water and a smirk. Once he placed the two glasses on the coffee table, he sink into the couch and gazed at the TV. "So, I see the decision is The Breakfast Club. Again."

"You know it's one of my favorite movies!" you argued, sitting beside him.

The movie started, and twenty minutes into the movie, it was time to start your plan. 

You took a deep breath, exhaling through your nose. With a shaky hand, you ran it down Tetsurou's arm idly, gaining his attention. You could see his eyebrows raise in question as he gazed at your fingers brushing against his bicep. You wet your lips and kissed his cheek, traveling to his mouth. 

This caught him completely off guard.

He didn't complain, though, shifting his body to make it more comfortable for the both of you. Feeling confident in yourself, your tongue brushed against his lips, asking permission to enter. He happily obliged, opening his mouth and letting your tongue graze his. His hands wandered to your shoulders, rubbing them as your tongues battled for dominance-- in the end, Tetsurou was victorious. 

Your lower stomach was getting hot, you could feel your panties begin to dampen with arousal. His hands trailed down your shoulders to your arms, rubbing them softly. Your hands went to his hair, running your fingers through the tresses. The black haired boy groaned in your mouth, making you clamp your thighs shut. Feeling a burst of confidence, you broke the kiss and climbed into his lap, shocking him.

His eyes were dark with lust as he panted, "This is a nice surprise."

"Hush, or I'll stop." you murmured, going back to his lips with newly found gusto.

You've never been this aroused, your panties were soaked and threatening to spill onto your inner thighs. You knew your face was flushed brightly, but kissing Kuroo and feeling him harden beneath you was making your brain numb. It buzzed with lust and you could only focus on how his hands moved to your sides and how they felt like hot fire, his finger tips leaving warmth.

Experimenting was never something you thought you'd do, but you swiveled your hips in his lap, earning a heartfelt groan from the man beneath you. Breaking the kiss once more, you gazed at him with glossy eyes. Remembering your research, you stepped off of his lap and kneeled in front of his sitting form, peering at him through your lashes.

You'd never seen Kuroo blush, but seeing you on your knees, flustered, hair tousled, and lips plump from kissing, you'd think he'd passed out. 

The tent in his shorts were impressive, no matter how baggy the shorts were. Licking your lips once more, your shaking hands tentatively rubbed up his thighs, nearing his growing cock. He stuttered and swallowed harshly. "What do you think you're doing, doll face?"

"I'm going to suck you off, Tetsurou," You swore you heard him groan. "Unless you have a problem with that?"

He shook his head. "Not at all."

Swallowing the sudden nerves, you helped him pull his shorts and underwear down, releasing his cock. Your eyes widened once you saw how impressive it was. Would that fit in your mouth? Licking your lips, you stuck your tongue out and grazed the head of his swollen member, enticing a hiss from your boyfriend.

"Fuck, Y/n..." he muttered, bringing one of his clenched fists to his mouth, biting it.

Gaining the confidence back you had originally, you popped the head into your mouth, sucking it lightly. Tetsurou stuttered out a moan, whispering your name. You went down his shaft a bit further, gripping one of his thighs for leverage. Kuroo was very vocal, giving you praises and groaning every time you sucked your cheeks in. Your other hand went to grip the rest of his cock that you couldn't fit into your sore mouth. He was girthy, your jaw was beginning to hurt from the unusual strain. You bobbed your head with more speed, glancing up at Tetsurou who had his head thrown back in pure bliss. Your neglected, throbbing sex was growing more aroused with slick, this boy was going to be the death of you. 

His hips started thrusting shallowly to meet your mouth, one of his hands going to your hair. His moans were becoming louder and the grip in your hair was growing tighter.

"That's it, Y/n, don't stop. God, who knew you had such a good mouth," he praised. 

Kuroo Tetsurou was coming undone before you and it was sexiest thing you've ever seen.

All because of you.

[kazcosmo]

when sin tastes like sugar

sugawara koushi x reader

❥ warning(s); drinking of alcohol, cheating, implied nsfw

❥ word count; 1,263 words

synopsis: you’ve always been told that there are some things that are supposed to be forbidden. and you’ve heard that what isn’t allowed tasted like saccharine. you’ve always known this to be true to the extent of alcohol and cigarettes. but when you meet sugawara koushi, you realized you never really knew just how good forbidden things can taste like.

the liquid burns your throat, its bittersweet taste lingering on your tongue. the drink is a distraction and you savor the sharp tang of citrus and bourbon. you haven't had a good drink in months. a time span far too long for your sanity. all those forced sweetness and politeness has had you wanting to curl your hands around your neck and fucking rip your flesh apart. it was destroying you, all this pretending. you danced around people's suspicions day by day and reassured them with lies you've rehearsed a thousand times. and yet, you get a grim satisfaction upon dodging their prying questions and doubtful eyes. sometimes you wanted to laugh at their faces for how utterly easy they were to fool. you should've been an actress instead of working as a nurse with countless late-night shifts that had you waking up at ungodly hours. your work yet another reason why you relished each sip and cradled the burn and flavor of the alcohol. but that wasn't all. a grimace makes its way onto your pretty face, curling your drunk features into a look of distaste. no, it wasn't the drink-- the thing was practically liquid heaven-- it was something else. or rather, someone else. the drink sloshes almost lazily as you twirl the glass with your hand in a circular motion, ice cubes making a soft noise as it clinks with your cup. your mind wanders into a hazy daydream filled with hazel-brown eyes and soft gray hair that bordered on white paired with a seemingly innocent smile. facial features better suited to an angel. your thoughts go uninterrupted even as the music blares across the packed room filled with bodies dancing to the rhythm of the music and to the melody of each other. you continue twirling your drink dreamily, soft sighs slipping past your lips. hands ghost along your back, sending shivers down your spine. your vivid dreams fall and you turn to see the very face stuck to your mind just seconds ago. "koushi." you breathe, mouth tilting into a small smile. he sits down on the stool beside you, a similar smile on his face as the two of you ignore the thrum of music across the bar. this part of the place was rarely occupied by anybody who wanted to immerse themselves into the beat, they wouldn't be able to, really. considering that the speakers were a good distance away from the spot, the music low enough for both of you to hear each other without yelling at the top of your lungs. a few linger in the farthest corner of the club, either making out or doing business you know better than to stick your nose to. your eyes scan his appearance, mouth going dry as he graces you with his presence, body fitted into a long-sleeved shirt, two buttons undone. he wore black pants hanging loosely off his hips, looking like a goddamned meal in the process. you squirm in your seat, disguising the action as you trying to pull the skintight dress further below your thighs. "it's been a while," he says, gesturing for the bored bartender for a drink. you try hard for your eyes not to linger too long at his figure, staring at the glass of forgotten alcoholic drink like it was the most fascinating thing you've seen in weeks. you let loose of the tension on your shoulders, acting nonchalantly, sipping at the drink which now tasted bland on your tongue. "We don't exactly have the most flexible schedules koushi." you remind him, your statement eliciting a small chuckle from him. you whip your head towards him and drink in the image as he receives the drink from the bartender who is happy to move away from your conversation. you take everything in before he looks up and catches you staring. he had the habit of moving the glass in a circular motion just like what you did before, the action originally from him which you've mimicked during the numerous times the two of you had gone out for a drink. your gaze moves from his lips down to the exposed skin of his neck and you stiffen slightly. barely hidden underneath the collar of his shirt was a mark of red; lipstick stains, you echo in your head. a scoff nearly escaped from your mouth. of course, how could you ever forget? this angelic man in front of you wasn't yours. nor were you his. the feeling of guilt settles into your stomach, its presence no longer bothering you. you were used to it anyways. you turn away from him as he looks up, "and yet somehow we make it work better than we do with our beloved significant others." he lets out and you can't help but snicker at his words. whereas you could barely make time for your boyfriend, you manage to sneak a meeting with sugawara koushi into your already tight schedule. whereas he could barely remember the exact date of their anniversary, he could remember every little insignificant detail about that night you spent with him, driving around town and doing nothing at all. there was just something so beautifully sinful the way you two lied to everybody, safe behind the fog of false words and even faker smiles. alone, unbothered, unburdened- whole. "god, sometimes I forget you're not mine." you sigh, a slow smirk spreading across your face. there was something in your eyes, a flicker of sadness that pierced through your mask of indifference. the emotion so fleeting he barely catches sight of it. his chest tightens, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. but if there was anyone better at lying than you, it was him. so he matches your smirk and drops his voice to a playful drawl. "that's what this is for, y/n, for forgetting everything for one night."

your eyes flutter open, your vision greeted by his face. still sleeping. there’s affection in your smile, something you barely let him see, then your eyes flicker downwards, meeting toned chest pressed against yours. and still naked, apparently. you roll your eyes, having long outgrown being embarrassed after countless times of waking up to this.

and even if you lost count of exactly how many times the same face has greeted you as you woke up, you know you’ll never get tired of it. why else would you keep coming back for more even when you knew you shouldn’t be?

to you, sugawara koushi was a drug.

and you were the addict incapable of doing anything but to want-- no, need-- more of him.

and so you do. even if it was in secret. hushed meet-ups with the seconds counted and constantly running down to zero, always running out of time, fleeting gazes in public, and the rare brush of a hand around others was what you could afford without risking anything more than what you’re both already putting in line.

in his case, a close friend.

in yours, an engagement.

when his own eyes open he’s never greeted by your sleeping features. it’s always you picking up the purse you brought with you last night to his apartment, fitted in the same clothes he’d taken off of your body hours ago. he's never been given a "good morning". it was always, always a chaste kiss to his lips, a bittersweet goodbye, and one that he'll never get used to, a goodbye that still brings him a plethora of pain that mirrored your own.

but he doesn't stop you, and you don't stay.

as you turn the doorknob behind you, you let out a weary sigh,

daichi really shouldn’t have introduced who he said he was gonna make his best man.

❥ a/n; sorry this was rushed! i have a massive case of writer’s block so i’m probably gonna revisit this and rewrite it bcs it just ain’t it for me atm

[minijenn]

Keys to the Kingdom Preview

In which Sora realizes you need money to exchange for goods and services and also realizes that he’s got none of that bc the Duck and Dog Dads never let him carry any of their cash around. Also the child is starving. Fun!

***

The third night is the first he goes to sleep hungry. 

Sora leaves that first world not long into the next day, largely for one very simple, yet very important reason. He can’t find a single source of water anywhere, something that soon starts to become a problem when, after only a few hours of wandering under the relentless sun, his rising thirst slowly starts to turn into the first signs of dehydration. He’s already feeling weak and lightheaded when he caves to summon a dark corridor; and, as he’s quickly starting to get used to, he feels even worse after he crosses through it. 

He still doesn’t know how to control where his dark portals lead to, not that the destination really matters as long as it's as far away from either the lights or the Organization as possible. Fortunately, the first thing he sees as soon as he collapses out of the corridor is a river, rushing clear and cool just a few feet away from him. He nearly falls into it, desperately swallowing several mouthfuls of water until he ends up inevitably choking on it. His stomach settles rather quickly this time around, but he’s left with a lingering headache from the short trip through the shadows. He does what he can to ignore it as he splashes some river water onto his face, washing off the thin layer of dust and dirt he hadn’t even realized accumulated on it back in the canyon. 

Upon taking a cursory glance at the rest of his surroundings, he finds the river is bordered by dense trees on either side of it, woods that are more comparable to a jungle than a forest. The air is hot here, but different than it had been in the last world, much more humid and bearable as a symphony of wild sounds sing out from the surrounding trees. But what catches Sora’s attention the most is something he can see from his spot on the riverbank, resting downstream just a short distance away: a village. 

It’s a relatively tiny town, composed of a collection of simple huts and houses that are by most accounts, largely primitive. Still, Sora heads straight for it as soon as he sees it, knowing that where there’s a town, there’s bound to be something else he’s in need of if his rumbling stomach is anything to go off of: food. 

Despite its small size, the village is quite populous, filled with midday hustle and bustle of its humbly-dressed residents going about their usual business. Most of them barely notice Sora as he unceremoniously walks into town, though a few do spare him odd or curious glances as they pass him by. To not arouse any unwanted suspicion or alarm, he keeps his hands tucked into his pockets, his claws out of sight and his head down as he strolls into what appears to be an open air market of sorts. Several stalls have set up shop, pedaling a variety of goods and foods, from fruit to meat to herbs and more. Out of all this, the appetizing scent of freshly baked bread is what draws Sora over to one certain stall, one selling all sorts of loafs, biscuits, and even a handful of cakes. He eyes the impressive display hungrily before picking out a few delectable-looking rolls, as well as a few small, fruit-topped tarts for good measure. He’s still going through the stall’s stock, however, when its owner finally speaks up from her spot on the other side of it. 

“Your eyes certainly seem to be overloading your stomach, boy,” the older woman remarks, her face and tone both quite grouchy and detached. “That doesn’t matter much to me though, as long as you can pay for that stash you’re piling up there. You can afford all that, can’t you?”

“Oh, yeah, no problem,” Sora nods, shifting his potential purchases to rest on one arm. He searches his pockets, checking his jacket first and then his pants, only to quickly reach a very startling discovery: he doesn’t have any money on him to speak of. 

 Before, he’d never really needed to carry money on him. Between the three of them, that had usually been Donald’s job, a job he’d taken away from Sora relatively on into their first adventure together, claiming that he wasn’t “responsible” enough to handle their funds. Sora had playfully brushed the comment off at the time, and over the years, had largely gotten used to either Donald or Goofy keeping track of any money they obtained and what supplies they spent it on in his stead. Only now that he’s on his own without a single cent to his name that he wishes the pair had trusted him just a bit more, at least enough to carry a little of their money around, just in case. 

“Um… so… this is pretty funny, I’m sure you’ll get a good laugh out of it,” he begins, throwing on the most charming, pleading smile he can manage. “But... I don’t really have any money…” he hesitantly tells the shop owner, looking between her and the bread in his arms. “You… don’t happen to give out free samples, do you?” The shopkeeper only responds to his small, hopeful smile with a cross, deadpan look, one that gives Sora an answer that’s every bit as clear as words would have been. “Right…” he sighs in defeat, putting every piece of food right back where he found it. “Didn’t think so…”

He sullenly stuffs his hands back into his pockets as he walks away, trying not to steal a glance at any of the other surrounding food stalls, lest his unsatisfied hunger only continue to rise. He nearly makes it out of the market altogether before spots something he’s hard pressed to pass up: a stall selling several different types of fruit. Among them is his favorite by far, a treat he’d always enjoyed snacking on back on the islands: mangoes. The stall doesn’t carry many of them, in fact its entire stock seems to be rather small and largely unimpressive, but one is really all Sora wants right now. After all, something, even if it's something as small as a simple mango, is bound to suffice after three days of eating basically nothing at all. 

It’d be easy enough to just take one too. The stall’s owner has their back turned, preoccupied with going through the rest of what they have to put out. All he’d have to do is swiftly pass by, pick one up, and shove it into his pocket without anyone seeing. He’s not very keen on the idea of stealing, especially after how much trouble the unsavory act had gotten him into back in Agrabah. But there, he’d stolen a priceless, magical treasure; here, the only thing he intends on making off with is a single, largely inconsequential piece of fruit. And given just how hungry he’s starting to get, how bad could taking just one really be?

He nearly moves in to do exactly that, though stops short only a few feet away from the stall as a small child, no older than 6, suddenly runs out from behind it. “Papa! Papa!” the boy calls, standing on his tiptoes to peer over the edge of the stall. “Can I have one of the mangos? Please?”

The shopkeeper turns, a kindly-looking man, though his eyes are tired as he looks down at his young child. “Oh, I’m sorry, son,” he frowns, shaking his head. “But those are the last few we have. You know the harvest wasn’t good this year, and if we don’t sell those, we won’t have enough to get the materials your Mama needs to make you new clothes.” The shopkeeper smiles a bit as he steps out to hoist his son up into his arms, affectionately ruffling his hair. “You’re growing so fast that it’s getting hard for us to keep up with you.”

The child laughs as his father carries him back behind the stall, his former request for food all but forgotten by now. Neither of them notice that their warm exchange had been watched from afar, and as soon as it's over, Sora instantly feels guilty for even considering the thought of stealing from them. Of taking something from a family that clearly needs it to survive, simply for his own selfish, singular needs. He hangs his head in shame as he briskly walks past the stall, not even sparing it a second thought as he starkly leaves the village behind entirely. 

He finds a place to sleep not too far outside of town, in a well-shaded nook at the near edge of the jungle. It rains that night, and he largely doesn’t sleep, even though he manages to stay relatively dry thanks to the thick canopy of trees overhead. Because the entire night, the most he can really do is lie there, his arms wrapped around his empty, aching stomach, silently pleading for some kind of relief from the starvation he doesn’t know how to stop. Eventually, he somehow falls asleep, dreaming of all of the delicious dishes his mother used to masterfully make for him back home, from freshly steamed salmon, to sweet pineapple cake, to savory vegetable soup. Only to wake up the next morning, still longing for food, longing for his mother, longing for home. 

All while knowing painfully well that he won’t get to see any of those things any time soon. 

[babycracker]

Fire Meet Gasoline: Chapter 6

chapter rating: teen & up story rating: explicit pairing: morgan/m!oc (tanner drake) & farah/f!oc (sadie kennedy) word count: ~2.7k chapter warnings: none story warnings: eventual smut, canon-typical violence, au - canon divergent a/n: as you can see, pairings have changed and i've added some warnings for the future bc this entire story has taken an unexpected turn and it's going to be much bigger than manner now. please don't hesitate to let me know if you wanna be taken off of the tags!

read it on ao3 here

--

Sadie was sure that she'd have more time than this. Six months isn't long, after all. Well, technically four months. She's been basically on the run for the last two.

She'd had four months to enjoy being twenty-one before the Agency had contacted her about signing the treaty, and for the two months since not so politely telling them to shove it she'd been dodging the bounty hunter that she'd evidently been assigned to.

He was an idiot. A troll, she was sure of it. Big and imposing and clumsy and menacing… but stupid. She hasn't seen him in a few weeks though, and she's starting to relax, fairly sure that she's lost him.

So, for the first time in the week and a half that she's been in this city she's daring to leave her room at the hostel and check out some of what could well be her new home. She pulls her hoodie on, reluctantly pulling the hood over her head and eyeing the bland grey of the fabric with disdain for a moment. Dreadfully boring, and dreadfully cliché - a banshee roaming around donning a grey hood - but she still needs to keep a low profile. Just for a little bit longer.

Everyone's heard about the supernatural bar in the city, such things are not exactly common, though no one seems to know where it is. It would seem the only way to find out is by word of mouth, and unfortunately she doesn't know anyone here, and she can't exactly go up to random people and ask them where the local supernaturals hang.

It would really be preferable; at just over 4'3 she doesn't exactly fit in with humans, but she supposes she'll just have to make do as she heads down the street. She sticks cautiously close to the buildings, avoiding the laughing groups of people and curiously looking around at the bright and colourful nightlife.

She could get used to this.

But for now, she resigns herself to something less flashy, a not quite as cheerful and slightly shabby bar with a bright green neon sign shining from its façade reading Shakers.

Looks good enough for now, so she steps inside, a grin spreading across her face as she takes in the atmosphere. God she's missed being around humans, and this place is packed with some of the rowdiest ones she's ever seen. Her favourite kind.

There's no dancing space as far as she can see (disappointing) but the bar is huge and there are booths lining every wall, the space in the middle filled with several pool tables.

She weaves her way through the crowd, thankfully remaining largely unnoticed, and slips up onto a stool at the bar, breathing out a sigh of relief now that her height is less obvious. She spins around on her seat, leaning one elbow on the bar and watching a group of guys at the closest pool table, trying (unsuccessfully) to gather some kind of hint at how to play the game, when a voice from behind distracts her.

"What are you drinking, pretty?"

She turns, expecting to find a bartender but instead there's a man on her side of the bar and uncomfortably close, a charming and yet slightly unsettling smile on his face. She forces one to her own to keep her frown away, the eerie sense of this guy being bad news creeping through her mind and making her thoughts slightly foggy.

“I’m really not much of a drinker, thanks anyway.”

He’s good looking enough, blonde hair, bright blue eyes and dimples in both cheeks on proud display as he grins at her. But her advanced senses are ringing every bell inside of her, warning her not to trust him.

“C’mon darl, no one comes to a bar unless they want a drink,” he presses, reaching out and letting his fingertips brush against the sliver of bare wrist peeking out from the sleeve of her hoodie.

She gasps and recoils too fast to be able to reign it in, her face twisting into a frown as she pulls her sleeves down and clutches them in her fists to cover her hands entirely. She really should've worn her gloves.

Demon.

He lifts both hands in front of him, a kind of peace offering, and takes a slight step back. “Woah, take it easy. I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“It’s fine,” she clears her throat, hoping it’ll take the obvious rasp out of her voice as she struggles to get any words out at all. He grins and slides onto the stool next to her.

“If I promise not to touch you again, will you come and join us?”

She eyes him carefully for a moment before letting out a resigned sigh and giving a small nod. He seems nice enough, respectful enough. And she’s never been given any kind of guarantee that her perception is always one hundred percent accurate. Maybe she gets it wrong sometimes. Maybe she’s been disregarding people her entire life based on what she sees of them on the inside, and some of them didn’t deserve disregarding.

She’s been on her own since she ran away from home after her parents’ relentless persistence that she signed the Agency’s treaty became too much, she could do with some friends. Maybe now she can’t afford to turn down every single person that gives her a slight dishonest vibe. Who is completely honest these days anyway?

He grins again and gets to his feet, nodding towards one of the pool tables as a gesture for her to follow him. “I’m Axle.”

“Sadie,” she replies, reluctantly slipping off her seat and noticing the way he immediately arches an eyebrow at her height. He’s a demon, a supernatural, he’s probably already worked out that she’s not human and she just about winces as she waits for the inevitable questions.

They don’t come, however. He’s either much more polite than she’d expected, naïve and just thinks that she’s short, or he’s already worked out what she is and is choosing to stay quiet about it in this public space.

She follows him over to the pool table where a group of five other men are standing around playing a game, and a brief wave of panic surges through her when she realises that they’re probably all demons. They usually hang out with their own kind, and it would mean that she’s heavily outnumbered by a group of supernaturals far more dangerous and powerful than she is.

They barely spare her a glance though as she comes to stand at Axle’s side, and he barely offers an introduction in turn, instead waving his arm around the group and simply referring to them as “the guys”.

It’s probably for the best. She can handle one demon, should the need arise, she can slink away from him unnoticed, but once she has the attention of an entire group of them she’s not exactly sure how she’d get away if she needed to.

--

For someone that doesn’t talk a whole lot, Morgan sure spends a lot of time on the phone. Tanner hadn’t expected her to be so… clingy. She seems to really miss the rest of Unit Bravo now that she’s stuck away from them, which seems strange to him given that he’d assumed she wasn’t so different from him and would enjoy the break and getting to do her own thing (apart from having to work with him, of course) for a while.

But she’s on the phone again. Granted, she’s talking to Adam about their mission, but still. The number of questions she’d had about what they were supposed to do had been alarming to Tanner until he’d realised that she was most likely just coming up with the need for so much clarification as an excuse to speak to someone from her team.

Whatever her reasons though, he’s bored. He gets bored quite often with her, he realises, and he finds himself watching her on the other side of the room from where he’s kicked back on the couch, obviously and shamelessly checking her out as she paces and speaks in a hushed voice into the phone. Maybe it’d be different if he worked with her a little more; in regard to both her flirtation and their current job. At first, it’d been fun to irk her and get on her nerves but it’s already starting to get old - even for him - and he decides that maybe he should make more of an effort to be agreeable if they’re going to be stuck together for now. Or he could at least sleep with her. That might relieve some of her tension and get her to stop being such a hardass, at least.

She runs a hand through her hair and turns to face him, scowling when she notices his attention and lifting her middle finger at him before turning away.

He grins and sits up straight when she finally ends the call and turns to face him again.

“They want us to go to that bar tonight,” she tells him before he has a chance to say anything, and he groans dramatically and slides down to a slouching position, throwing his head back against the back of the couch and closing his eyes.

“It’s all work with you,” he complains, opening his eyes again when he hears her moving and watching her cross the room and start to pull her jacket on.

“We are on a job at the moment, so yeah, it’s all work.”

“You know this place isn’t gonna be like Mickey’s, right?”

She pulls a face, only small and only for the briefest second but he catches it anyway and for the first time sees how uncertain she is about having to be in that kind of environment.

“You gonna be good?” he adds, trying to sound at least a little sympathetic.

It actually surprises him how much he cares about how much this is going to affect her, and not just for the job. It’s going to be a pain in the ass, definitely. Having to keep an eye on her and make sure she’s not overwhelmed while trying to do his job at the same time, but more than that, whenever he thinks about how painful this is going to be for Morgan his stomach twists slightly, churning uncomfortably and making him feel… he doesn’t even know. Worried? Is this what worry for somebody else is?

Probably not. He’s probably just dreading having to babysit her.

--

He can already practically hear her teeth grinding by the time they get to the door of Shakers, let alone inside. They can hear (to be fair, godawful) rock music as well as the noise of what sounds like a pretty big crowd through the door, and he casts a glance in her direction. Her jaw’s clenched, brow furrowed, and eyes narrowed as she stares at the door before turning to the side and meeting his gaze.

“What? We going in or not?” she snaps, and he shrugs and waves a hand at her, gesturing to her general demeanour.

“I dunno, are we?”

She rolls her eyes and steps away from him, but he sees her shoulders rise and fall as she takes a deep breath before pushing the door open.

It’s loud. Really loud. Not too bright at least, but even he immediately catches the faint scent of alcohol, cigarettes and weed in the air. He can only imagine how strong it is to her.

His concerns for her are quickly overshadowed though when it takes less than a minute for his eyes to land on a group of men playing pool near the back of the room. He recognises them straight away, which means that they’re going to recognise him straight away and they’ll be gone before he and Morgan have gotten anywhere near them.

“Shit,” he mutters, ducking his head and turning to face Morgan more so as to turn himself away from them.

“What?” she snaps, glaring at him and not seeming to realise that something’s gone wrong, too caught up in trying to distract herself from the sensations bombarding her.

“I know them,” he answers distractedly, looking her up and down for a moment before casting a quick glance around the room in search of somewhere quieter. Something that doesn’t seem to exist in this bar.

He grabs her hand and pulls her over to the bar, nudging her to sit up on one of the stools and standing beside her, draping an arm over her shoulders and leaning in close to her. The close contact seemed to work the previous day when she was starting to become overwhelmed on the street outside, there’s no reason to think that it won’t work again in here.

“What do you mean you know them?” she asks, her voice a little less impatient as she leans back against him slightly, and he doesn’t miss the soft sigh of relief she lets out as he feels her body start to relax a little.

He doesn’t know why physical contact with him, of all people, seems to help her out but he’s going to count it as a bonus when it means that he’s able to set her at ease enough for her to function in these situations.

He glances back towards the pool table, but looks away again just as quickly, leaning down closer to Morgan to hide his face when he sees that the group are starting towards the door.

“They know you?” Morgan finally seems to click on, looking quickly towards the group and then back at him, and he only just realises how close he’s gotten to her when her nose just about brushes against his when she does it.

“Mhm,” he distractedly hums in reply, and she studies him for a moment before a small smirk crosses her face.

“I’ve been trying to get this close to you since we met, and now you’re telling me all it would’ve taken was a few demons to scare you?”

This bitch. He frowns at her, his arm dropping away from her shoulders as he straightens up again and moves away from her, temporarily forgetting that he’s trying to hide himself.

“I am not scared.” He spits indignantly.

Of all the things for her to say. Scared.

“You sure, sweetheart?”

Condescension drips from every word and his frown deepens into a glare. “Fuck you.”

“They’re going to see you,” she ignores his insult and nods behind him, and his eyes dart towards the group that have thankfully already moved past him when he remembers that whatever she thinks about him, them seeing him would be a disaster and if they knew that he was after them they’d be looking for them for weeks.

He subtly watches them go, waiting until the last two people are through the door, a blonde guy and a freakishly short girl, and then grabs Morgan’s hand and pulls her off of the stool. “Come on.”

He practically drags her out onto the street, making sure to keep a fair distance away from the group without losing sight of them through the crowd until he realises where they’re going.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Morgan mutters from beside him, obviously realising the same thing at the same time, and he stops and watches them step through the doors of the same motel that they’re staying in.

He grins and looks over at her, letting go of her hand. “Our job just got a whole lot easier.”

“You think?”

He doesn’t bother answering, just heads towards the motel once he’s sure that they’ve had a chance to get to their room and he’s not about to run into them in the lobby.

He’s stayed here countless times, he knows pretty much the entire reception staff, it shouldn’t be too hard for him to find out what room they’re staying in and pay them a visit when they’re not expecting it. Then all he needs to do is convince Morgan that he doesn’t need her help with his next job, they can go their separate ways, and everyone will be happy.

--

tags (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @admdmrtn @masonsfangs @homeformyheart @mmerengue @agentsunshine @bravomckenzie @freckles-spangledvampire @mistyeyedbi @kelseaaa @fhauvilles @amlovelies @forestcreatures @maraudern05 @kat-tia801 @alyssalauren @agentnolastname @utterlyinevitable @masonscig

[blahblahwritings]

Contracts and Captains. - IV

A/N: Remember how I posted something before one of my other fics saying that I had been consistently updating for weeks? Neither do I lmao who was she? Don’t know her anyway heres the fourth chapter of this black sails fic.

Words: 1823. Honestly I’ve been writing this since about 12pm I don’t know how its so short and its probably shit bc I haven’t written anything in months.

Warnings: Mentions of vomit as per the last chapter. Think thats it lmao. See you in three months.

As your eyes opened, there were a blissful couple of seconds where the previous night’s encounter didn’t exist in your memory. But, just like the sun flooding the room, unwanted flashes of vomit and slurred words rose like a tidal wave in your minds eye. You rolled over, burying your face and groaning into the pillow out of sheer embarrassment as a dull throbbing started in the depths of your skull. 

Why did you keep drinking? You could’ve simply had one or two before retiring for the night and you wouldn’t have met that boatswain or thrown up on your own boots. What was his name again? Ben? Boyd? No, they weren’t quite right. Either way you made a mental note to apologise again whenever you next saw him. 

Slowly, you tugged your still clothed limbs from the thin sheets, trying not to jostle your stomach too much for fear of whatever was left in there making an unwelcome appearance. Your pants were scuffed from where you took a tumble outside the tavern, your shirt was half undone, probably from a failed attempt to undress before not-so-gracefully falling into bed. A single boot was thrown on the floor alongside your coat, the other still stuck on your foot. What a mess. 

A hot bath, that's what you needed, and a hearty breakfast if your insides don’t bring it back up. Pulling on the other boot, you made your way to one of the girls working downstairs, trading her coin to fill the tub in your room. You must’ve looked rough as you passed her to get to the man at the bar because when he turned to look at you, his brows shot up, disappearing behind his hair. 

“You look like you could use a little hair of the dog, love.” He chuckled, eyes scanning your disheveled form. A grimace was your immediate response. “Some food then.” He offered, filling a bowl with something that you didn’t stop to look at as you practically inhaled it. The man watched you with a knowing smirk and had you not felt so terrible you’d have spat out a snarky comment. You chose to gulp down your water instead.

“Thank you.” You huffed with a small nod, tossing some money on the counter before you headed back upstairs. The state you were in just added to this morning's growing list of regrets but you weren’t quite sure if you cared how you looked to anyone else right now. All that was on your mind was a piercing headache and a good soak.

Stripping off, you stepped into the water, sinking down slowly as your body got used to the heat. Finally, with a heavy sigh, you rested your head on the back of the tub, your aching muscles beginning to relax. Scented oils and soaps were left on a stand by the bath. Working a generous amount between your palms, you massaged your limbs and torso getting rid of any tension and purging the memories of last night’s… festivities. In the quiet of your room, you took a moment to trace the small scars that littered your form, fingers landing at last on the freshly healed knife wound from only a few weeks ago. The soft pink flesh was still tender, and if you moved the wrong way it would ache. It was dangerous to be alone on this island, in this line of work. You needed friends, not just contacts. A crew, perhaps. 

Letting your mind wander, you thought about your new found place among Flint’s men. You had to keep bringing in leads to be of any value to him, lest you risk being tossed aside and left in the dirt. He and his crew were among the most revered on the island, therefore cementing your part in that would bring security. It would ensure that other crews would leave you alone, as you were important to someone they feared and the consequences of harming you could be severe. 

Then again, there was a little more than security on your list of perks as you thought more about the taller man from last night. He was kind to you, not that the others weren’t having bought your drinks and all, but, he made sure you were safe and fed. Billy Bones. You recalled. Replaying the meeting in your head, you winced at the slurred introduction and the puking soon after. Why did you care about how he saw you? Was it because he was the crew’s boatswain or because he was handsome and softer than most pirates you’d met. 

Catching that last thought, you shook it from your head, refusing to let it take root in your brain. Attachments like that are a weakness here and you cannot afford to have those. You’d only met the guy once and he probably didn’t want anything to do with you anyway, especially after that drunken show you gave him. Cupping a handful of water, you splashed your face, scrubbing any further thoughts of the man from your head, instead, choosing to focus on finding a new lead for Flint. 

They would be leaving to chase down the details you gave him yesterday in a couple of days, if not sooner, which meant you probably had around two weeks to find something of substance upon their return. You’d struggled last time but after sending out letters to old friends in neighbouring ports, you were hopeful something would turn up. 

Padding your way to the dresser, you pulled out some fresh clothes and got ready, feeling much better than you did even an hour before. The food had settled your stomach and the water you guzzled seemed to bring some life back into your face as when you left to go hunt down some work, the barman from earlier spouted something along the lines of ‘A whole other woman’ when you walked by.

---

An uneventful morning led to an uneventful afternoon. There were no new letters or leads and the streets were pleasantly calm compared to usual. You certainly weren’t complaining, you had been feeling better since this morning but your body was still recovering. The easy day was probably just what you needed. You were sat on the beach, sipping some water and watching passersby as you sketched in the journal you kept.

It was something you’d taken to keeping since arriving in Nassau just over two years ago. A small leather book to help keep track of potential jobs and record anything interesting that happened. Really, though, you just loved to draw. You’d already filled a couple just like it with sketches of people, ships and landscapes that caught your eye, often accompanied by your messy scrawl. You were just about satisfied with your latest addition when Mr Gates clapped you on the shoulder making you jump and slam the journal closed. You’d never shown anyone the contents before. 

“Sorry, Miss Devereux, didn’t mean to startle you.” He began, chuckling lightly at your reaction. “I heard you and the lads had quite the night..” He moved to stand by you as you got to your feet, dusting the sand from your pants. Tucking away the book, an amused smirk finds its way to your face as you look at him. 

“Depends on who you ask.” You replied. “How were they this morning? Feeling sorry for themselves?” Your brows raised in question as you both started aimlessly wandering along the shore. A snort met your ears as his head fell forwards, looking at the ground then back at you. “I didn’t see the majority of them until at least noon and they were still in a sorry state, although I wonder how you must’ve been. I heard that you hurled your guts up right after meeting our boatswain.” Gates mused, eyes crinkling as he watched your entire face turn a lovely shade of red. You tried to keep your cool but your expression faltered into one of sheer embarrassment. Apparently, this was hilarious as Mr Gates exploded into a fit of hearty laughter, and as much as you told him to stop you couldn’t help but have a good chuckle yourself as you covered your face with a half-sandy palm at the thought.

When you both regain your composure, he gives you a reassuring pat on the back.

“Don’t worry, the only people who know are Billy and myself, the men still think you can hold your drink.” He winked. You made a move to argue that you could in fact hold your drink but he began talking about the plan to set sail the day after tomorrow. You listened intently and explained that you were awaiting correspondence from friends in other ports to supply more promising leads upon their return. 

---

It had been four days since the crew left in search of another haul using your most recent information. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened, you’d made some money here and there through smaller jobs and pickpocketing but overall, there was nothing of real interest. You spent the days reading anything you could get your hands on or drawing and you’d even had your eye on some paints in one of the markets, but all you could do was wait. Checking for mail at the front desk of the inn you were staying at every morning had become a routine, desperate for any work or ships that you could relay to Flint. It was on the fifth day that you had gotten a response from someone in Port Royal.

As you read over the letter for the third time, you could feel your eyes widen in disbelief, your heart hammered in your chest and you released a breath you didn’t know you were holding. This was far too good to be true. Surely this was a myth. A prize of this magnitude was simply unheard of. Your eyes scanned over the paper again, barely able to focus on the words because your hands were trembling so violently. Calm down. You told yourself. It can’t be the truth. You thought as you stared at the other envelope that had arrived alongside it. At the bottom of the letter it read:

“P.S

Should you doubt my information, I sent you the correspondence shared between the dead man and the merchant with evidence pertaining to this gold. Best not ask how it came into my possession.

Your dear friend,

Josiah.”

You ran to shut the windows to your room and close the drapes. If anyone found out you had this information and the evidence to go with it, you would surely be killed for it. Tearing open the paper, you unfolded its contents. It was all here. The initials of the merchant, R.P., details alluding to the existence of this gold and the name of the dead man involved in plotting the course it would be on. 

Vasquez.

[woundliqour]

Sorry if this is rude but is there a reason you don't move out? like would it be possible for you to crash with a friend and you could actually save money up for once?

No, you're fine. Its a mouthful to genuinely explain all the details, but essentially like. My last roommates that ditched the lease left their disabled parents at the trailer, n while they aren't my responsibility, they're good people and I can't in good conscience let them become homeless again.

They have too many health problems, and especially with how cold its been some of these recent winter nights, I genuinely don't think they would survive. Its just like. One had a stroke and can barely get around without a walker, but he's consistently been denied disability support. And his wife has to take care of him more or less full-time, and otherwise she gets sick fairly often. They have to sell their medicine just to afford doctors appointments, n when they run out of medicine early, they can hardly get out of bed to feed themselves.

And then aside from that, the place is on a lease and in my other roommates name. N for them, its been much less a case of her fucking me over or anything malicious, but their whole life was falling apart between mental illness, trauma, an abusive boyfriend, and an abusive mother, and I understand it's still not my responsibility to save or protect everyone, but I don't want them to have their credit and renter's history fucked on top of every other bad thing that's happened to them the last few years.

I would love to move out with anybody that would improve my circumstances, but I genuinely don't have that opportunity with anybody, in such a way it wouldn't jeopardize others for my own personal gain. Not to mention any would be candidates to move in anywhere with are already on their own respective leases with roommates neither of us especially want to live with :/

If there was a way to escape without doing any damage, I would. Bc it genuinely is so much responsibility and pressure on my shoulders :/

[chilling-seavey]

What if Florence and Daniel got into a fight bc both of them are stressed out worrying about money and taking care of the kids?? How would my OTP resolve their fight??? 🤔

This was lowkey emotionally draining to write...wowey. 3.3k words later, here’s some proof that Florence and Daniel’s relationship isn’t as perfect and flawless as it seems... x

Monday, November 4th, 2024

Daniel let out a heavy breath as he got into his car after another shift, having spent most of it with his supervisor never being satisfied but that wasn’t new. He turned on the car and connected his phone to Bluetooth to call Florence as he always did before leaving. Strangely, he was sent to voicemail but a text came through instead.

Can you pick up diapers on your way home?

He sighed and replied with a quick ‘ok’ before pocketing his phone and putting the car in reverse. Closer to home, he parked outside the drugstore and headed inside, rushing down the aisles to find the diapers and grabbed the biggest package before bringing it to the cash.

“$37.45.” the cashier said after ringing up the item.

Daniel waved his card and was directed to the machine. He typed in his pin and waited a moment only to be met with card declined: insufficient funds. The glance from the cashier made Daniel feel even worse and he cleared his throat nervously, brushing a hand through his hair before shuffling through his wallet to only be met with a $10 bill and a few loose coins.

“Sorry… I, uh, left my other card at home.” Daniel said softly before leaving the store empty handed.

He sat behind the wheel of his car and tried to steady his breathing after being unable to afford diapers for his baby daughter. After a few moments of trying to calm down and trying not to cry, Daniel turned on the car and headed towards home.

The apartment smelt like burnt supper when he walked in and the noise was insane, the baby’s piecing screams topping it all. No one even heard him come in. Daniel set his guitar case and backpack on the floor in the doorway to the living room, taking in the messy kitchen and loud TV with Clementine sat admits a pile of toys trying to watch it, Penelope on the couch with her face in a pillow and her hands over her ears as she cried, and screaming Lucy in Florence’s arms as the dishevelled looking mother tried to put the dishes in the sink.

“Hey.” Daniel finally spoke, earning the glances of Florence and Clementine.

Clementine jumped up and ran for him as if he was her saviour from the chaos and he picked her up with a tired grunt.

“What’s going on here?” Daniel asked softly.

“Mommy burnt the house down!” Clementine said with a giggle as Daniel carried her towards the kitchen, his eyes lingering on Penelope on the couch for a moment.

“I just burnt the lasagna a bit.” Florence sighed, wiping her damp hand on her shirt that was already covered in tomato sauce and baby drool. Her hair was pulled back but still almost completely falling out of its tie and her makeup-less face looked like she hadn’t slept in days. “Did you pick up the diapers?”

Daniel cleared his throat nervously, setting Clementine back on the ground to let her run back off to the TV, “No, my-”

“Goddammit, Daniel, I ask you to do one thing.” Florence snapped as quietly as she could, tossing the pan in the sink a bit too hard, making Lucy scream louder in her arms.

“I tried, I just-”

“It’s not that hard to remember. Your daughter needs diapers. We have, like, four left but that���s fine; when we run out I’ll just tie one of your shirts around her like a freaking monkey at the zoo.”

“Florence, what is going on?” Daniel asked at her obvious stressed out state.

“I had to pick up Penelope only an hour after dropping her off this morning because the teacher called and said she had a meltdown and wouldn’t relax and everything is setting her off today. The damn oven beeped and she lost her mind. Of course Lucy’s crying only makes it worse and she won’t shut up because she’s teething.” Florence pushed her finger in the five-month-old’s mouth to get a look at her swollen gums and the baby just cried louder. “She also pooped all over everything today which is why we needed new diapers earlier than planned because her personal nuclear bomb ruined half the things on the change table.”

Daniel watched with wide eyes as she rushed over to grab the last two plates from the dining room table and tossed them in the sink too before turning on the tap and letting the water run over everything.

“And Clementine is demanding that she gets this new set for her doll that everyone has at school. She won’t even hear of it for Christmas because she needs it now.” Florence continued. “And she keeps testing me! Judging everything I do like she’s the adult. ‘Mommy, the lasagna’s burnt’. Like I didn’t know!”

“Okay.” Daniel sighed softly, reaching over the counter to take the crying baby from her and made his way to the freezer to take the cold teething ring out and held it out to Lucy. “I’ll take the girls and get them ready for bed and then we can talk.”

“I don’t want to talk. I wanted you to get the diapers like I fucking asked.” Florence grumbled.

“Flora.” Daniel snapped sharply to shut her up.

His glare certainly helped, and she clenched her jaw before looking back to the dishes without another word. Daniel bounced the baby lightly as she kept screaming through the teething ring he desperately tried to put in her mouth as he headed back to the living room.

“Clem, angel, can you tidy up your toys and go get your pyjamas on please?” Daniel asked softly as he turned off the TV.

The almost six-year-old nodded and got up from the rug, starting to gather her things, “There’s a new set you can buy for my dolls, Daddy. It’s a whole car they can ride in and the radio even plays music! It’s really nice and all the girls in my class has it. I wanna get it so we can play together at school.”

“We’ll think about it.” Daniel said, trying to hold back his nausea from the harsh inset of reality. He wanted nothing more than to buy that stupid toy car for his daughter but it was no where near realistic. He set Lucy in her playpen with the teething ring before moving to tend to his middle daughter who was still face down on the couch with her hands over her ears. When he set his hand on her back she startled. “Just me, bug.”

Penelope rolled over, giving him a good look of her swollen red eyes and matted dark hair and tear streaked cheeks, and she held her arms up to him through a hiccup.

“What’s wrong, my love?” Daniel pouted as he bent down and scooped her up, the four-year-old cuddling right into him through her sniffles as he took her to her room to get her cleaned up for bed. He sung softly as he wiped her face clean with a damp cloth and got her into her pyjamas, something that always helped calm her down, and he took his time to help both her and Clementine brush their teeth and comb their hair before tucking them into bed.

Daniel grabbed Lucy for story time, all three girls cuddled up with him as he read them a bedtime story. Lucy fell asleep quickly, probably tired out from all her crying – same with Penelope – and he kissed the oldest two good-night before taking the baby down the hall to bed too. He let his eyes linger on the remaining three diapers in the basket before letting out a small sigh and took one out so he could change her into her pyjamas. Lucy was tucked into her crib with the teething ring beside her just in case and he pushed a pacifier past her lips, watching her for a second as she sleepily sucked on it for a moment, the plastic bumping lightly against her tiny nose.

The apartment was eerily quiet as Daniel closed the nursey door, baby monitor in hand, and made his way back down the hallway for a conversation he really did not want to have.

Florence had the kitchen cleaned up by the time he was back, and they shared expressionless glances as she closed the last cupboard.

“I’m sorry you had a bad day,” Daniel said, placing the baby monitor on the counter between them, “but you don’t need to take it out on me.”

“Maybe if you did what I asked, we wouldn’t have this problem.”

“I tried.” Daniel protested. “It was a hard day and to top it off my card-”

Florence held up her hand to cut him off, “You go to work to play music for eight hours and then come home to a good meal that you don’t have to cook. You have it easy.”

“Easy?” Daniel gaped. “Are you kidding me? You know how much shit I do in my job and how many late nights and early mornings and weekends I put into this. It’s no where near easy.”

“Oh yeah.” Florence chuckled humourlessly. “When you don’t have to lift a finger around here, leaving me to practically raise your children.”

“You think I like never seeing my wife or kids?!” Daniel frowned. “It was bad when Lucy was first born, yeah, but we even had a whole discussion and I got much more time freed up. But I can’t just sit at home all day with you guys, this isn’t a fairy-tale.”

“I know but you act like I’m a psychotic bitch when I let it all get to me! I got shit on today! And walked over and hit and kicked and bitten and screamed at and I burnt my arm trying to get the charred dinner out of the oven. You just don’t understand what it’s like to stay home!”

“You have no idea what it’s like to work! To go out and earn a salary! You could have gone to school and gotten a degree and then figured out what you wanted to do with your life but instead you chose to cruise off everyone else. You didn’t even pay for your first apartment! Callum did! You have no freaking idea the value of money!”

“I was raising my daughter.” Florence seethed. “Fuck you for even saying that.”

“You could have made it work.”

“Sorry I chose to focus on her rather than shoving her in daycare to be pretty much raised by a stranger for the first four years of her life. I didn’t have the money for any of that. I barely had money to put food on the fucking table half the time and you know that.”

“So get over yourself! Stop being so goddamn selfish if you’re so finically-aware!”

“Fuck you!” Florence shouted, walking around the counter as if she were going to leave the room but she stopped in the middle of the living room and turned back to him. “I get that you have to work and I am thankful that you even have a job, but a little compassion isn’t a lot to ask of you.”

“Compassion? Are you serious?” Daniel scoffed loudly, taking a few quick strides across the room to stand in front of her, shouting back his rebuttal, “I nearly wait on you hand and foot and I drop everything whenever you need me and for years I always have! I have done nothing but work my ass off for you and our kids and you still have the audacity to say that it’s still not enough? I work too much and now I don’t work enough and then I don’t ‘understand what you’re going through’. Well, dammit, Florence, what the fuck do you want from me?”

“I want you to care about other things than your work!”

“I already cut my hours! We’re nearly fucking broke, Florence, I don’t know why you can’t understand that! We literally cannot afford for me to lose one more hour a week! Last months rent virtually drained us and we are surviving on a $10 bill and my fucking shoelace right now! I’m pushed to the fucking brim half the time trying to get all the shit done so I don’t have to work overtime so I can still come home to you and the girls and all I’m met with is attitude and snark and an ungrateful wife who scolds me like my goddamn mother when I walk in the door!”

Florence didn’t reply for a beat and the silence lingered heavy over the apartment. Her eyebrows furrowed first before her face scrunched up in anger and she jabbed a finger in Daniel’s face before yelling, “Fuck you! I am not staying home just to make you a supper and serve you a beer in a pretty pink dress and heels with a face full of makeup and a fake smile when you get in from work. This isn’t the 19-fucking-50s! I am allowed to have emotions, Daniel James, and right now you are tugging at every single last one of them! How dare you say these things to me!”

“You are freaking out for no reason!” Daniel shouted louder to top her. “You’re twisting everything I’m saying! Do you even hear yourself?”

“All I can hear is you being a selfish and ungrateful son of a bitch!” Florence screamed, throwing a couch cushion at him.

“Throwing things at me? Real mature, Florence. Real fucking mature! God, why don’t you understand?!” Daniel shut his eyes and threw his hands into his hair and tugged hard to try and rid his frustrations. “You’re so naïve sometimes, you drive me fucking crazy!”

They were already even listening to each other anymore, simply off on their own tangents trying to out-volume the other. Daniel and Florence didn’t fight often, priding themselves on their open communication, but everything eventually hits a bump and when they did, they really did.

“Just go play your pretty music, Daniel! Make some pretty music with your friends and put it online for everyone rave over and shut up. I’ll be here taking care of and being hit like a punching bag by your children.”

“You know what, I would appreciate it if you stopped fucking accusing me of being a shitty father because I have a job! I have been trying my best and if that’s not enough for you then I don’t know what to tell you!” Daniel put his hands up.

“What? You’re gonna leave?” Florence laughed humourlessly, throwing her finger in the direction of the door. “Fine! Go on! Wouldn’t be the first time! Leave when it gets hard Daniel!” She cut her screams, leaning in closer to him to whisper sharply, “Just like Matt did.”

Their fight seemed to echo through the apartment as silence fell again, her angry expression still glaring at him as his face melted into neutrality.

“Don’t say that.” Daniel said softly, trying to each for her.

“Don’t touch me.” Florence stepped back before walking quickly down the hallway.

“Flora, I’m not gonna-” Daniel started after her but the slamming of the bedroom door startled him to stop in place. He took a deep breath and ran his hands over his face to try and calm down, leaning back against the wall of the hallway. It was surprising that the baby wasn’t crying given the fact they just had a ten-minute-long screaming match.

Daniel composed himself enough to open the girls’ bedroom door and peak in, finding them both huddled up together in Clementine’s bed, frightened looks on their faces.

“Hey, my loves.” Daniel sighed, sitting himself on the side of the bed. “I’m sorry if we scared you. Mommy and I haven’t been talking as much as we should have been, and we got a little crazy. Do you forgive us?”

Clementine and Penelope nodded. Daniel kissed each of their heads and got them tucked in again in their own beds.

“No more yelling tonight?” Penelope asked.

“No more yelling.” Daniel promised, smiling sadly between his two eldest. He couldn’t help but let his gaze linger on Clementine a moment longer, remembering the night Matt walked out, leaving nineteen-year-old Florence and baby Clementine alone and a mess in their small apartment. She stared up at him with those same blue eyes he always remembered, and he gave her an extra kiss on the cheek, staying with them until they were drifting back to sleep, “Daddy’s not going anywhere.”

Daniel found himself back outside the master bedroom door with his hand on the knob and his forehead against the cool wood, taking slow breaths to keep himself calm to try the conversation again. He finally opened the door and slipped inside before closing it silently behind him. The light was on in the ensuite and he stopped in the doorway.

Florence glanced up at him from where she stood in front of the vanity brushing her hair. She silently turned back and continued what she was doing.

“Come here.” Daniel whispered, stepping closer and gently pulled her arms down from her hair to wrap around his shoulders and he tucked his own tightly around her waist, peppering a few kisses over her cheek and across her shoulder. “I love you. So fucking much. Even when you scream at me and swear at me and throw things at me.”

Florence sniffled a little, holding him tighter. “I love you too.”

“I’m not going anywhere, okay?” Daniel rubbed a hand over her back. “No matter what.”

“I’m sorry.” Florence mumbled, wrapping her fingers around the material of his shirt and buried her face in his neck.

“I’m sorry too.” Daniel sighed. “My card got declined today. It scared me.”

“What?” Florence leaned back with concern, holding her hands on his biceps to keep him close as she stared at his flushed face.

“$37 for diapers and my card was declined. I felt like a fucking idiot, like an absolute joke of a father…can’t even buy the necessities for my kid.” Daniel sighed, turning to lean back against the counter and hung his head. “I don’t know what we’re gonna do, Flora. I’m scared.”

“I know.” Florence mumbled, petting her hand through his hair. “Maybe we should talk to someone? Get a budget figured out until we get back on our feet. Worst case scenario, we ask your parents for a bit of a loan. We’re not going to lose anything from this.”

Daniel nodded, biting his lip as he stared at the floor, fingers holding tightly onto the edge of the counter behind him.

“I’m sorry.” his voice broke and he struggled to hold back a small sob, quickly hiding his face in his hands.

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s okay,” Florence frowned, wrapping her arms around him to let him cry against her shoulder, “I know how hard you work. You’re such a good dad and an amazing husband. I know you’re trying your best and I also know it’s slowly starting to destroy you.”

Daniel whimpered as he nodded, clinging onto her tighter through his tears as he muffled a sob into her neck.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.” Florence sighed, running her hand up and down his back. “I took my own shit out on you. I needed any excuse to yell, I guess.”

“Better me than at the girls.” Daniel chuckled lightly, pulling back from their hug a little to wipe his eyes with the back of his hand.

“I love you.” Florence said strongly, taking his face in her hands. “$0 in your pocket or millions. Doesn’t matter. Don’t you forget it, okay?”

Daniel nodded and leaned in to kiss her once, lingering there a moment longer before pulling back.

“Now no more tears.” Florence said, taking a deep breath herself as she started to feel herself start to cry. “There have been to many tears in this house today.”

[tedrick]

caldel fic bc i can’t put it in docs uwuwuwuwu

mostly early 2020???? late 2019???? unfinished

Calvin found himself a bit bewildered, and unsure what to do with his hands during the long elevator ride. Typically not the type to be visibly nervous, Calvin was clearly out of his comfort zone in this large, grandiose building.  

It was hard not to notice from the outside, ornate and elaborate; Calvin was used to staring at it whenever he’d pass by, wondering about what the apartments inside looked like, the size of the lobby, the expensive furnishings. Now he found himself inside, traveling to one of its top floors in the elevator. 

Adel really lived here? 

The silence was becoming increasingly awkward. If Calvin had dared to watch Adel during their ascent he would have seen that Adel was also clearly uncomfortable, standing a bit too stiffly and holding his breath. By the gracious nature peripheral vision though, Adel seemed to just be naturally and comfortably subdued. 

“So..” Calvin said, looking across the elevator, the walls of which were lines with a soft, velvety looking covering. “You live on the twelfth floor? Here?” He laughed as he said it, trying not to seem rude or strange, while also making an attempt to hide his nervousness. 

Adel turned to him, eyes wide and attentive before he quickly glanced away again. “Uh, yeah- haha.” The laugh was embarrassingly forced, but he wanted to seem as nonchalant as he mistook Calvin to be. “The suites are all on the highest floors, but it’s still a very nice building, I think.” Adel punctuated his sentence by nodding to himself, that was probably the right thing to say. 

Calvin stared at Adel for a moment, processing what he had just said. There wasn’t very much time for him to process though, as the elevator finally slowed to a stop, the doors swiftly opening to a classy well-lit hallway with a faint pleasant fragrance. 

Adel stepped out and Calvin followed stiffly, transfixed by the elaborate patterns in the carpet and the wallpaper. Some ways down the hallway, Adel finally stopped at a door, and Calvin stood behind him as he retrieved a key ring from one of his jacket pockets, a singular key hanging from it. As he leaned over Adel’s shoulder, Calvin also saw that attached to the key ring was a small, cute keychain of a frog that he had never seen before. He smiled, thinking that it was adorable. 

There was a click as the door unlocked, and Adel slipped the key ring back into his pocket. Surprisingly, after he swung the door open, he stood by the doorway and motioned for Calvin to enter first. 

Calvin drifted through the doorway that entered into the bedroom portion of Adel’s apartment, which was even larger than his own bedroom. 

The room was immaculate as well as bright, mainly thanks to the rather large window on the opposite wall which displayed a view of the busy street outside, and the sprawling blue sky above it. 

The cleanliness of the room brought attention the its decoration, which was mostly limited to various instruments arranged around the perimeter of the floor and the walls. A guitar leaned against one wall, a ukulele hung on another, a keyboard sat in the corner, aside several other instrument cases. Besides the instruments, the rest of the decoration in the apartment was comprised of different houseplants, which took up most available surfaces- the windowsill, the desk, the dresser. They all looked different, and were all obviously very well taken care of. 

Besides that, the apartment wasn’t just impeccably clean, it was also incredibly sparse. Evidently, Adel didn’t take much an interest in interior design. Furnishing the room was the bare minimum: a comfy bed, a polished nightstand, a desk and a seat, a cushy chair, some shelves and a rug.

It all looked nice enough to fool the eye at a glance, but there were no knick-knacks that weren’t plants or schoolbooks. The entire area was distinctly.. utilitarian. 

“Ah,” Calvin started, removing his jacket as he took it all in. “So you’re one of those ‘minimalists’, huh?” He cracked a smile at Adel, who was locking the deadbolt on the door. 

“I uh, don’t really know what that means.” Adel said timidly, trying not to show his confusion as he turned around. He smiled at Calvin, and removed his own jacket, then walked past him and draped it over the chair at his desk. 

“You hungry?” Adel asked with a grin, and without waiting for an answer, he disappeared down a hallway, leaving Calvin alone beside the entrance. 

Taking his cue, Calvin gingerly placed his jacket over Adel’s and followed him through the short hallway into a small, organized kitchen space. Adel was searching through stainless steel refrigerator. Quickly, he turned and tossed something to Calvin, who caught it to find that is was a large, round orange. 

Internally grateful that he hadn’t fumbled the orange and made a full of himself, Calvin further tested his luck by tossing the orange back and forth from hand to hand, trying to look cool.

“Thanks, man!” He said, looking up at Adel with a beaming smile. Adel smiled back, relieved that he made Calvin happy. From a cupboard he pulled out a granola snack for himself and began to unwrap it. 

“You’re welcome.” He replied sheepishly, looking down. 

Making short work of his orange’s peel, Calvin glanced around the kitchen, which was relatively small, yet well-outfitted with different appliances and utensils. Still, something about the arrangement of it was off- it looked superficially decorated rather than a well-used kitchen. He got the feeling that Adel didn’t spend too much time in here. 

“So uh, how-“ Calvin started before Adel wordlessly moved forward and gently took the orange peel from his fingers, sliding a drawer open to reveal a trash can that he dropped the peel and his wrapper in. 

Realizing this had interrupted Calvin, Adel looked back at him with his wide, expectant blue eyes. “S-Sorry. Go on.” He prompted. 

Now flustered, Calvin spun the peeled orange in his hands. “Yeah uh. How’d you even get a place like this dude?” He asked, gesturing to the space around them to show that he was impressed by it’s grandeur. 

Adel didn’t seem to share his sentiment though, as he shrugged. “I dunno really. It’s a nice building. It had nice reviews so..” His sentence trailed off as he took a bite of his granola. He was dodging the question. 

Forcing the orange slices apart with his thumb, Calvin chuckled. “No, I mean, how do you even afford a place like this? The rent here must be crazy.” He hoped that Adel could tell that he was sincerely not trying to be rude, he was just bewildered. Calvin couldn’t fathom this small, awkward, punkish boy living in a place so lavish. In fact, he was pretty sure Adel had never even mentioned having a job that would pay well enough to support such a living situation. 

Something about Adel’s posture shifted and solidified, taking up the brooding and serious shape it had before they’d gotten to know each other better. When he spoke his words seemed stilted, as he gave his response a good amount of contemplation. 

“Well.. it’s mostly family money.” As he spoke, he suddenly began walking back to his bedroom area. Calvin followed. “My grandparents are kind of... doting? I think. They send me money from Germany to help with school, housing, the like..” 

From an outside perspective, it was unclear what Adel was thinking. Part of him was embarrassed to admit that he was sustained by money that he didn’t earn. Another part of him was ashamed by the fact that the money was mostly insurance against him needing to work. 

“Wow! That’s really nice of them!” Calvin exclaimed, painfully aware that Adel had become a little uncomfortable, and they were both just standing in the middle of his room. “I’m sure my parents would do the same but, five kids is a lot to provide for already, haha.”

At this, Adel’s discomfort seemed to disappear. He perked up and looked at Calvin, who was in the middle of eating another slice off his orange. “Five kids? You told me you have sisters but not four other siblings!” Adel sat down onto his bed, clearly unable to fathom being a part of such a large family. 

Tentatively sitting down next to Adel, Calvin nodded. “Yeah I’ve got four sisters. I swear the exhaustion will kill me someday.” He feigned a wistful look into the distance, making Adel crack up immediately. Seeing Adel laugh so carefreely made Calvin loosen up a bit. 

“We all have our differences,” Calvin continued. “But I love them. At least it’s never boring.” As he spoke, he lovingly thought of his large family, and all of his younger sisters who he cherished deeply. 

“I can imagine.” Adel said. “It’s probably never lonely either, huh?” Even though he was speaking directly to Calvin, his gaze was lowered to his hands, which he fiddled with now that he wasn’t holding the snack he’d just finished. 

Calvin shrugged. “I dunno... It can get pretty lonely sometimes. I’m the big brother- I’ve got to take care of everybody, be responsible, be smart, be happy. Its a.. Its a big role to live up to, y’know?” He tried to smile but the furrow of his eyebrows wouldn’t allow anything convincing. 

At this point Adel looked up at him again. “I never really thought of it like that before.” 

Instead of replying, Calvin remained silent. He could tell that Adel was thinking through something that he wanted to elaborate on. 

“I’m an only child so.. sometimes I wonder if i missed out on any of that. Those-“ He gestured with his hands as he tried to think of the word he wanted to use. “Those bonds, i guess, that are built in with siblings. Even the responsibility. Someone to take care of. It sounds nice.” 

There were several moments of silence as the two of them were lost in their thoughts. Calvin spoke. 

“Adel... were you lonely at home?” 

Adel grew somber. He inhaled deeply, releasing his breath in a tired sigh. “I wish I could lie to you Calvin, but honestly.. there wasn’t really a time when I wasn’t lonely.” 

Calvin stayed silent once more, opting to observe. As Adel began to continue speaking, he slightly shifted to face towards Calvin less. His words came slowly, as if reliving the memories was difficult, or perhaps he had spent a very long time trying to forget. 

“I was an only child, yes, but.. not even my parents ever spent much time with me. My mother was always very paranoid. It pushed my father away, he became unfaithful. That only made her behavior worse.” Adel paused for a very long time. “They divorced very early in my life. I lived alone with my mother afterwards.” 

This was the point where Calvin decided he should speak up, offer some words of consolation or a change in the topic. Before he could utter out anything however, Adel continued. 

“You know, neither of them ever really treated me like i was their child though. I was probably just proof that two shallow people managed to achieve a nice family life. That was a lie. We’d smile for portraits, then go to our own rooms far away from each other. Even in such a big house, i could still always hear them yelling at each other.” Adel chuckled as he spoke these final words, but his face was emotionless, and his eyes were distant. 

“And when there were two of us I hardly interacted with my mother. There was nothing she could do that a maid couldn’t do for her, so long as she didn’t have to look at me. I was just a little doll in a big empty doll house. Nothing ever changed. It wouldn’t even matter which room i used because they had never even made a room for me. Isn’t that strange?” Finally, Adel turned to make eye contact with Calvin. His eyes were wet, but not close to tears.

“A boy living in a house for adults. She had arranged the house to her liking before I was born, and never changed it afterwards. That house was exactly the same for as long as i lived in it. Sparkly and extravagant, my messed up family hardly belonged. It was like... a puzzle, that was already complete without us. Not a single one of us fit into it, and none of us fit together as well... I’ve never really known the closeness of a family, large or otherwise.”

“Even after we moved in with my grandparents, sold the house, I was still always all alone.” Then Adel fell silent, and withdrew into himself. It seemed he was done speaking about his past.

Calvin looked around the room once more. Perhaps thats why all of the decor was so superficial and functional. Perhaps thats why the apartment seemed so empty. He looked back at Adel.

“I’m sorry Adel. I shouldn’t have pried.”

Adel’s back straightened, and he swatted at his eyes, blinking back any threat of tears.

“No, it’s alright.” Adel assured him. “I shouldn’t be getting emotional, it’s not that deep.” Then he became visibly uncomfortable. “I- I’m sorry for making this awkward, Calvin. We should talk about something else. I didn’t mean to be a bummer.”

Without much forethought, Calvin said the first thing that came to mind, hoping it would cheer Adel up.

“Uhhh what about these plants? You never mentioned you were like, world’s best houseplant owner! I’d probably kill a cactus but these, these are really nice!”

Obviously Adel was invested in his plants, he must love them, and Calvin was earnestly impressed by them. He’d once tried to plant an orange tree when he was younger, but to his disappointment, nothing ever came of it.

Thankfully, Adel smiled. His eyes lit up with pride, and he straightened his back. “Yes, i love my plants. I’m very proud of them. I’ve always enjoyed gardening, but there’s not much you can do in an twelfth story apartment.”

This made Adel laugh, and Calvin tried to laugh too even though he couldn’t relate.

“Do they.. do they have names?” Calvin asked.

Adel tried and failed to repress a smile, and he leaned in close. “They do.” He giggled. “I wasn’t going to say- i think it’s a bit embarrassing.”

Calvin leaned forward as well, setting his hand down right next to Adel’s to brace himself.

“Nooo! I’d love to know, for real!”

Adel rolled his eyes playfully and smiled as he stood up, walking around his room and introducing each of his plants. He started out shyly, but eventually it was clear how invested he was in his individual houseplants- none of which Calvin could name, but they were all very pretty.

“This is Anne, and Claudio, Henry, Franz, Hector, Fanny and Felix, Guissepe, Gustav, Igor, Maurice, and Samuel.”

Adel paused next to the final plant, clasping his hands together and pulling at his fingers, eager to recieve praise from Calvin.

[supremeuppityone]

Written for Klaroline Valentine's Day Bingo 2020 @kcvalentinesbingo

Prompt: “A dare is a dare.”

Author’s note: This is the much-requested sequel to Chapter 63: Drowning Secrets in the Sea, found in my Klaroline series, A Beautiful Symmetry.

Warning: Casual references to drugs

Please review here.

           “This is your idea of an adventure?”

           Caroline whipped her head around, mouth curving up into a pleased grin as she took in Klaus’ rumpled appearance. “Your university’s still skimping on the travel budget, huh? You know, just because they pay for coach doesn’t mean you have to fly it.”

           “Not all of us can afford first class, sweetheart,” Klaus replied, pulling Caroline to her feet and playfully spinning her around the cramped basement.

           She kissed one of his dimpled cheeks, suddenly giddy and hopeful. He was here. She honestly hadn’t known what to expect when she sent him the artifacts and GPS coordinates. “Seriously? Just because I fly first class, doesn’t mean I actually pay for it.” At his amused chuckle, she allowed herself to press into him, his warmth and familiar scent washing over her. She’d missed him more than she’d cared to admit. It only had been a couple of weeks since he’d let her walk away, angry and hurt by what she’d done.

           “Are you still mad at me,” she asked tentatively, stepping away to give herself a bit of space for this conversation.

           He hesitated, running his fingers through his disheveled curls a few times before he finally spoke. “You pretended to be an archeologist to gain access to priceless artifacts that my father commissioned you to steal. You could’ve ruined my academic career — everything I’ve ever worked for.”

           She bowed her head, her heart sinking in her chest. Did he come all this way just to tell her off?

           “But then you also didn’t go through with it and came back to save my life,” he continued, his tone a bit shaky. “I’ve missed you every moment since you left,” he confessed, standing in front of her once more, his touch tender as he caressed her cheek. “And I’m tired of missing you, love.”

           Their kiss was nothing like their first one — while that night in the bar had been hesitant, now their kiss was frantic; fueled by the past deception and a tentative promise of forgiveness. He tasted like her future. And Caroline had no intention of walking away from it twice. “I missed you too,” she admitted, placing kisses along his jawline.

           It was when he started to untie the silken knot at her waist that she snapped back to reality. With a sigh of regret, she gently pushed away, telling him, “We’ll need to pick this up later — a business associate is meeting me here in a minute.”

           Klaus looked skeptically around the dusty room, asking, “What sort of business meeting could you have down here?”

           “The private kind.” She considered him carefully, bending down to scoop up a few dusty books and folders to shove into his arms. “So, I don’t want you to freak out, but we’re meeting a kind of go-between for a gunrunnermobbossguy — but don’t worry! He’s totally safe and I’ve worked with him before.” She winced as she saw his gray eyes grow wide with alarm despite the fact that she’d hoped her rapid-fire words wouldn’t really register.

           “Did you just say we’re meeting with a ‘gunrunner mob boss’? Bloody hell, Caroline!”

           She rolled her eyes, checking her watch as she corrected him. “He’s a go-between. He’s not actually a gunrunner mob boss. He just works for one.”

           “How is that any better? And how are you going to explain me? What’s my cover?”

           Caroline snorted. Klaus was adorable when he panicked. “Calm down, James Bond. You’re playing the role of a nervous archaeologist completely out of his depth. Something tells me you’ll pull that off beautifully.” At his grumpy expression, she impulsively poked one of his dimples, telling, him, “Where’s your adventurous spirit? You know you want to embrace it — otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”  

           “I’d thought we’d start with dinner,” he mumbled, a hint of a smile starting to appear the longer he looked at her.  

           “Perhaps you can postpone your plans a bit, mate? We’re on a bit of a deadline,” interrupted a cocky voice as heavy footsteps finished descending the stairs into the basement.

           Caroline instantly went into her work persona, adapting her stance and demeanor to best put Galen at ease. “Galen Vaughn, you slimy bastard, the next time you let me borrow a grappling hook, make sure you didn’t break off one of the ends on Kangchenjunga Peak.”

           His blue eyes crinkled with mirth, cuffing her on the shoulder as he said jovially, “You managed a’right, didn’t you, lass? If memory serves, you repaid me in kind when you sold me out to the Germans.”

           “Looks like it worked out alright for you — considering you’re now their go-between.” Sharpening her tone slightly, she decided to move the meeting along. “Tell me the specs and deadline.”

           “Two spear points about 12 centimeters each. Day after next.” He nodded toward Klaus. “Who’s this?”

           Caroline kept her tone light as she explained, “This is Klaus, my expert. He’ll authenticate on-site.”

           As though to make up for her non-committal introduction, Klaus sprang forward, shaking Galen’s hand a bit too enthusiastically. “I’m an archaeologist. I can identify artifacts from 3000 BC to AD 500. While my main expertise in in classical antiquity, I have completed extensive fieldwork in Bronze and Iron Age dig sites. In fact, I lectured extensively on the evolution of the battle ax and advanced smelting techniques. It actually was quite fascinating how groundbreaking their metalsmiths were...” he trailed off, somewhat self-conscious when he noted Caroline’s indulgent smile. “Anyway...I uh, like...old things.”

           Did Klaus purposely make his accent deeper because Galen has a Scottish accent? “Right. As you can see, we’ve got this,” she told Galen dryly.

           “I’m impressed you’d take such an eager partner,” Galen replied skeptically, “he seems quite green, lass.”

           Since it looked like Klaus was squaring off to punch a friend of one of the most dangerous mobs in Eastern Europe, Caroline hastily shook Galen’s hand, sealing their deal. “Day after next,” she told him solemnly. He left with little more than a curt nod, his jovial demeanor instantly replaced by a more disquieting nature. Such was the way of this business.

           “Bollocks. Between the dodgy codes and the wanker with the pretentious facial hair, I’m a bit lost as to our mission, sweetheart.”

           She cheerfully answered, “It’s no big deal — we just need to infiltrate a party tonight and steal some Bronze Age artifacts so we can sell them to this gunrunner mob boss I know.” At his incredulous expression, she winked and added, “And you have stubble too.”

           “Clearly mine’s better.”

           Caroline softened her tone, noting the wariness in Klaus’ gray eyes. “If you want out, I get it. No hard feelings, ok?”

           “It’s not that; I’d just like to know what I’m getting into.” His gaze was penetrating, as though searching for something. “Why put yourself in danger? There’s a larger gain than just riches, isn’t there?”

           She crossed her arms, not comfortable giving so much of herself away. But she needed to learn. “Mikael took my mother off the donor’s list so that I’d work for him. When I killed him, I lost my one chance to get her name restored. My only option is a black-market kidney and this job will get me the cash I need to make that happen.”

           The kiss he gave her was electric; it burned her all the way to her toes and she arched into him, a tiny little moan escaping. “Does this mean you’re in?”

           That devilish smirk of his was all the answer she needed.

                               _________________________________  

           The estate was stubbornly built on the marshes along the coast of the Baltic Sea, proving that even the immensely wealthy could be ignorant dipshits. Caroline critically eyed the tall rooftops of the main house and its surrounding buildings, the crooked lines wordlessly demonstrating that everything was slowly sinking, eventually to be reclaimed by the sea. She could feel Klaus tensing beside her, and she patted his arm affectionately. “Relax — the doorman is barely coherent after his wild night at the Hunter’s Mark. He’s barely going to glance at our invitation, and even if he did, it’s been expertly forged.” She gave him a sly wink, adding, “By me.”

           “How do you know what he was up to last night,” he whispered back, eyes darting around the ornate courtyard of marble statues.

           “Because I paid off his dealer to ensure he never ran out,” she answered matter-of-factly, favoring the pale, sweaty doorman with a sunny smile as she handed over the ivory parchment invitation she’d painstakingly threaded with gold along the borders to match the genuine ones. As she suspected, they were waived inside with barely a glance, and she smugly handed Klaus a champagne flute.

           “Impressive,” he murmured, casting curious glances around the immense ballroom with its 10-piece orchestra quietly playing chamber music.

           “Yeah, they’re pretty impressive. The Martins have been running drugs out of Kiel for decades; their territory is perfectly situated to take advantage of the port. They launder much of their profits with a string of online boutiques set up by the younger siblings, Greta and Luka,” she murmured, snatching a smoked salmon canape from a silver serving tray.

           Klaus seemed to slowly relax as he acclimated to his surroundings, a bemused look on his face as he eyed the cascading fountain of champagne flowing from a beautifully crafted ice sculpture in the center of the room. “I meant you were impressive, sweetheart. You’re brilliant, remarkably talented, and adventurous — enviable qualities the rest of the world only dreams of possessing.” He leaned in, his accented voice low and sexy as he added, “Not to mention your ethereal, utterly enchanting beauty.”

           There went her heart doing that fluttery thing again. He already was wearing the hell out of that Tom Ford tuxedo, but then to have him whisper those things — things that maybe she’d heard before but no one ever really meant — made her want to shove him into that gold leaf and pearl-tiered cake and lick the buttercream off.

           As though pleased she was rendered momentarily speechless, Klaus suddenly gripped her waist, spinning her onto the polished marble floor. His touch was commanding, but not forceful, which she appreciated. Almost as much as his smooth muscles underneath her touch.  The red satin of her dress wound its way between them as Klaus performed surprisingly intricate footwork.

           At her small gasp of surprise, Klaus flashed her a dimpled smirk. “I may have a few moves.”

           “Nice moves,” she said, a bit breathless as he led her through a reverse spin that had her momentarily crowded against his chest. She couldn’t help but rest her palm against his chest. Firm, but it was more than that — he felt like a steady person. Someone she could trust. “Mystic Falls, Virginia.” At his questioning brow, she explained, “It’s where I’m from. Well, we bounced around a lot of big cities when I was a kid, but that’s where we finally stayed.” She hesitated, unsure of how he’d react. It was a big step — and one she’d never taken before. “My mom still lives there...maybe, um, you’d like to meet her?”

           At Klaus’ stunned silence, she hurriedly backtracked, telling him, “No, I get it — it’s probably way too soon for that. I’vejustneverbeenlikethiswithanyone and I’m not sure what the steps are. But I can figure it out. Seriously, I can be good at steps. All the steps. Probably. It’s just that I need to head back there for a bit once we get our business here settled and her kidney secured and I know it’s a lot to ask —”

           “I’d be honored,” he quickly answered, kissing her soundly. “And it’s certainly not a chore to get to know you better, love,” he admonished when he broke the kiss, dipping her until she giggled with relief.

           Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a slight commotion as the aerial silk acrobats had arrived and were starting to set up in the main courtyard. Perfect. “Follow me,” she whispered in his ear, casually leading him down a narrow corridor full of priceless artwork resplendent with inlaid lapis lazuli and hammered silver frames. “While most of the guests are distracted, we need to get what we came for — two Bronze Age spear points.”

           They stopped in front of a tall glass case, admiring the artifacts perched on a carved ebony pedestal. “They were unearthed in the muddy riverbed of the Tollense Valley. It’s a unique find for the region, marking a significant battle around 3200 years ago. Archaeometallurgical studies have pinpointed the geological origin of the metals’ composition, which means you can trace the route these spear points took to get to the valley.”

           “Except determining the geological origin of the metals isn’t infallible when you take into consideration the various ore ingots used along trade routes as currency. So, your premise, while admirable, is flawed.”

           “My premise is flawed?! Are you seriously discounting all of the cutting-edge work Drs. Maxfield and Branson published in the American Journal of Archaeology? Or the Nordic Bronze Age metallurgy expertise of Dr. Hildegard,” Caroline hissed, feeling her temper rise. She’d just started to recite the latest research statistics on copper-based metals across Bronze Age Europe when she noticed the tips of his ears growing red. Suddenly, she burst into giggles at the ridiculousness of the situation.

           Klaus’ confusion gave way to amusement as he too started chuckling. “We’re never going to agree, are we?”

           “Nope. But where’s the fun in that,” she asked, leaning over to kiss him soundly on the lips. She broke off the kiss with a twinkle in her eye, sticking out her leg to take advantage of the deep slit in her dress in order to access her lock pick kit. She deftly worked at the enormous mechanism lock behind the glass case, rolling her eyes at the Martins’ foolish assumption that bigger was better when it came to security.

           The interlocking tumblers easily gave way, and as she carefully opened the glass door, Klaus murmured, “You make burglary sexier than it has any right to be, sweetheart.”

           “Sweet talker,” Caroline replied fondly, delicately sliding the spear points into the leather strap across her thigh. “If you’re lucky, I might let you help me remove these later. Artifacts require such a gentle touch, you know.”

           From that lustful gleam, it seemed he was ready to take her up on her offer sooner rather than later, but unfortunately, they had company. From the heavy black eyeliner and holdover grunge ensembles, she knew exactly who had found them. “Shit. It’s the Travelers.” She quickly pulled Klaus up a narrow staircase, explaining, “So, maybethere’s also this cult of crazy fanatics who are interested in the spear points. They’re convinced some ancient ancestor was a powerful witch who disturbed the natural balance and was cast out of her community.”

           With a troubled sigh that turned into a choked laugh, he pulled loose his bowtie as they hid out on a balcony, staring down at the courtyard very far below. “And what does that nonsense have to do with our artifacts?”

           He said ‘our’. It inexplicably filled her with warmth and she again had to tamp down those lusty thoughts. Action now — then some real action later. “It’s kind of hard to follow and has more embarrassing plot holes than a CW show, but supposedly there was a curse that had something to do with doppelgangers, massive earthquakes and possibly a boat anchor and they think these artifacts will somehow break the curse.”  

           He scoffed, but whatever skeptical diatribe he was about to begin was stopped short when there was a loud banging on the double doors to the room where they’d been hiding. Glancing over the balcony once more, he wryly asked, “Does your skillset include flying?”

           Following his line of sight, she spied some of the aerial silks the acrobats had hung for their performance. As the edges of the jewel-toned fabrics fluttered near the balcony, she asked, “Are you daring me to jump out this window and slide down a curtain?”

           Wincing a bit at the sound of wood starting to splinter from the psycho cult just outside, he told her, “Perhaps I found my adventurous spirit.”

           “Fine. But we’re jumping together.”

           Klaus smirked, grabbing her by the waist as they each clutched the sturdy fabric. “I suppose a dare is a dare.”

[autvmnalsky]

Blindspot

Who is he? Who is the man with no eyes?

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader (non romantic)

Genre: Supernatural Horror, Drama

Word Count: 3.9k

Summary:  Everywhere you turn, he’s there, just barely on the edge of your vision. No one else seems to see him. He outside on the street, in your house, in your room. Yet, no matter how hard you try, you’re unable to look at him directly.

Warnings: mentions of death and blood

A/N: if y’all dont already think i’m the worst procrastinator ever i’ll have you know that i started this fic in august of 2018 and meant to finish it for halloween of 2018 but i couldn’t even finish it in time for halloween of 2019 bc im trash

Two children, a boy and a girl, played along the rocks at the waterfront. It was overcast today, as it usually was, and a dense fog rolled over the bay toward the shore. They scuttled along, chasing crabs, attempting to grab the tiny, orange critters as they disappeared into the water. Their mother watched from a bench a few feet away. 

“Be careful, loves. We can’t afford to lose anymore people here.”

The children nodded understandingly and proceeded with their activity. That is, when the eldest, the sister, spotted something strange amongst the jagged rocks that jutted out from the mellow tides. 

“Mommy! What’s that?”

The mother stood up from the bench and calmly strolled over to her daughter. She peered down at the rocks, and saw the strange figure that was jammed between them. 

The mother let out a sigh. “That’s Stephanie. Do you remember her? She baked brownies for the bake sale last month.”

The son nodded. “I thought she went missing last week.”

“She did. This is where the people who go missing sometimes end up. Come on, children.” She held out both her hands and each child took one. “You two walk on home while I go tell Sheriff Strazzeri.”

Emerald Bay was too small for a proper sheriff’s department, or a crime scene investigation unit. It was just Sheriff Strazzeri, passionate about the law, and his son, Will, who attended the town’s subpar, probably not accredited by any other town’s standards, medical school. Together they investigated all the weird things that happen in this tiny town.  

People always say there’s nothing to do in Emerald Bay. They’re pretty much right. It’s a small coastal town, with a population of about four hundred and declining. On the east side of Emerald Bay is the Marina, lined with abandoned boats that smell of rotting fish and are covered with ancient, dried-up barnacles. On the west side is your ticket out: a dirt road that leads into the forest, a thick, dense barrier of emerald painted evergreens. That’s where the town gets its name. And past the forest is the farmland, and past the farmland is the big city. So why don’t people leave Emerald Bay? Why don’t they abandon it completely?

The answer? No one ever makes it out of the forest alive. 

Everytime someone packs their bags and tries to leave Emerald Bay, something prevents them from truly leaving. You remember when you were young, maybe three or four years old, your neighbor, Ben, decided he had enough of the monotony of this town, and got in his car and started driving. You thought he was off to a bigger and better life, somewhere out in the big city, but three days later, they found his car broken down on the road in the forest, with his dead body rotting inside. 

A few years before that, a woman who had been widowed, thought it was too difficult living in the house she had shared with her husband. She didn’t even take her things. She just started walking. She wandered into the forest, and a few days later, her body was found floating in between the boats at the Marina. In the pocket of her yellow raincoat was a piece of paper, surprisingly undamaged. On it was a drawing, done in what appeared to be blood. It looked like it was drawn by a toddler, simple and cartoonish. It was of a man, or rather a stick figure, with something over his eyes. Below the drawing were two words: SAVE ME. 

This has been going on for as long as anyone can remember. Residents have tried to explain this strange phenomenon, sometimes with outlandish theories. But the most common theory, and what you think is the most plausible one, sprang from the drawing found in the widow’s pocket.

Many think that she was trying to warn us. That she drew it in a haste before she died. Many think that there is a man in the forest. One that wears a piece of cloth over his eyes. One that takes the lives of anyone who wanders into his home.

Supposedly he lives in the forest alone. Deep into the dark woods, making himself known only at night. His skin and his hair are an ashy gray, and he is said to glow under a full moon. But the most distinguishing thing about him is he always wears a black blindfold. Why? Because he is blind. Because he is the man with no eyes. 

You have always been interested in this kind of stuff. The spooky, the scary, the unsettling. Slenderman theories completely consumed you in grade school. So did werewolves, ghosts, and all things supernatural. You’ve always managed to prove them all as myths. Except this one.

You had almost forgotten about the man in the forest until last week. 

Mark was a well beloved citizen of Emerald Bay. You had been in school with him your whole life. He was so incredibly smart and gifted. Everyone thought he would become mayor one day or something. That is, until a couple of weeks ago, when he went missing.

His family said he went to buy milk from the grocery store and he never returned. All of Emerald Bay were on the lookout, although there aren’t very many places to hide in such a small town. He had no reason to run away either. His parents were very loving, and his friends were supportive. No one ever imagined that he would do such a thing. 

A week after Mark went missing, his body is found at the edge of the forest. There’s no sign of injury, and he wasn’t gone long enough to die from thirst or starvation. Will can’t find anything wrong with him. He can’t even determine when Mark had died.

As an ordinary citizen, you don’t have access to many of the details surrounding Mark’s death. All the information you get is from what they print in the local newspaper, and you know those things never tell the whole story. You began volunteering at the local library a few months back, hoping to gain more access to the towns archives, but there are so many newspapers and journals that it quickly became overwhelming, and you put a pause on poring through them. However, being the urban legend enthusiast you are, you want to know more, and the only way to get information is to dig it up yourself.

That’s why you waited until tonight, the night of the first full moon since they discovered Mark’s body. You equip yourself with a flashlight, pepper spray, and a sledge hammer (you know, just in case). You’ve never hunted this kind of creature before, so you don’t know what kind of equipment you would need. It’s stupid to go out into the forest alone, especially on the night of a full moon, but you don’t know anyone stupid enough to agree to go with you. 

The streets are dead, as they are every night, when you pull your car up to the edge of the forest. You can see the full moon peeking through the branches of the trees, round and luminous.

You must go on foot from here. The roads in the forest are bumpy and jagged from the tree roots breaking through the asphalt. You would bust a tire within seconds of entering. 

The chilly sea breeze nips at your skin when you exit your car. You pop open your trunk and grab your hunting supplies: An EMF meter you built yourself, your sledge hammer for defense, holy water blessed by Reverend Kang, some dried sage, and a wooden stake because vampires aren’t real but you never know, right?

You close the trunk and step away from your car. The breeze seems to get stronger as you walk toward the forest, almost as if it’s pulling you into it. You let it lure you in amongst the trees. You follow it until you can’t see your car behind you anymore, and still you continue on. You make your way around a large tree and then stop dead in your tracks. In front of you is a figure, glowing so brightly that you can’t discern any actual shapes. You just know that it is vaguely human. 

“Y/N.” The sound echoes in your ears. The voice is melodic, calming, unlike anything you’ve heard before.

You struggle to catch your breath. “H-how do you know my name?”

“I know everything.” The figure lifts its hand up and beckons you. “Come closer.”

You can feel your limbs wanting to move on their own. You try to resist it and stand your ground. You don’t want to go near him. You want to stay a safe distance away, but he’s too strong, and he pulls you closer to him. Soon, the two of you are face to face, and you can make out his features. His hair glows silver, and his icy white skin contrasts starkly with the black blindfold that covers his eyes. He radiates a strange energy, one that you’ve never experienced before. It’s cold, yet warm at the same time. Goosebumps prickle on your skin, yet your body feels feverish. Your chest feels tight as you struggle to fill your lungs with air. 

“W-what are you?”

He doesn’t hesitate to answer. “I am ancient. I am the only one of my kind, therefore I don’t have a name. But you may call me Jimin.” 

“Jimin,” you mutter in awe. You have so many questions for this strange creature. You never thought you’d actually find him, and now that you have, you must make the most of it. “There are so many things I want to know. Why do you take people? Why do you kill the residents of Emerald Bay?”

“I simply call to them. It is their choice whether they answer or not.”

“Are you calling me to right now?”

“Yes.” Jimin furrows his brows in confusion. “But you seem to be resisting my charm.”

“I’m not here to be your next victim.”

“Then why are you here?”

“LIke I said before. To find out why you take people, why you kill them.”

“But that’s not the only reason. The people who come here are unhappy. They want more from Emerald Bay. No one wanders into the forest, no matter how curious, unless they don’t mind being taken.”

“That’s not true,” you refute. 

“Isn’t it? Think about everyone who has wandered in here. Think about your own self.”

You open your mouth to speak, to tell him he’s wrong. But with the blink of an eye he’s gone.

You drive home dejectedly. Yes, you found Jimin, but now you have more questions than answers. What is he? Why does he kill people? How does he do it? 

You get farther and farther away from the forest. It’s nearly morning and the AM fog is starting to roll in from the ocean, coating the town in a thick blanket of gray. It’s so thick, you can barely see the block ahead of you. Your eyes momentarily wander away from the road to check your mirrors. Your tires screech as you suddenly slam on the brakes. You rub your eyes and blink. You could have sworn you just saw something in your back seat. And you’re almost positive that something was Jimin. But as you glance back up at your rear view, there’s no one there. It’s just your empty back seat and the eerie fog behind you. 

You tell yourself that you’re just seeing things. You didn’t get any sleep last night and you’re starting to hallucinate. 

When you get home, you’re so exhausted that you immediately collapse onto your bed and fall asleep. If you dream that night, you don’t remember any of them.

You sleep until you can’t anymore, and you lay in bed until your body aches. It screams at you to get up, and so you do, making your way to the bathroom to wash your face. 

You splash the cool water over your skin, rinsing off the cleanser that still clings to the area around your eyes. Afterward, you use a towel to pat your skin dry and take a look in the mirror. You freeze and nearly drop the towel. Over your shoulder, you can see Jimin standing, watching but not watching. 

You whip around but there’s nothing there. When you look back in the mirror, he’s nowhere to be seen. You got plenty of sleep this morning, so there’s no reason for you to be seeing things. But what else could possibly explain this?

Something doesn’t feel right. 

As hard as you try, you can’t bring your eyes to open. You can sense it. You can feel something in your room. You sense an unmistakable presence at the foot of your bed. It feels, evil, demonic, malevolent. 

You gasp for air, but the blankets seem to suffocate you. You want to push them off so you can breathe, but you’re paralyzed. Your heart races as you try to will yourself to open your eyes, to take a deep breath, anything. 

As quick as it comes, the feeling is gone. Your heart is beating out of your chest. You wiggle your toes to see if you can move again, but you’re too scared to open your eyes. Instead, you bury yourself deeper beneath your covers and try to fall asleep, but you can’t shake the feeling that something truly evil was just in your room. 

When you finally succumb to slumber, you dream of the forest that night. 

You’re running. The brisk air and the smell of pine nip at your nostrils. Your lungs burn, and no matter how hard you push yourself, you can’t seem to move faster than a crawl. You feel something chasing you, and you’re trying to get away. You’re trying to get back to the main road where you’ve parked your car, but the only thing around you is endless forest. Your heart feels as if it’s going to explode. 

Faster, faster, you tell yourself. But it’s no use. You can’t go any faster. 

You run and run. You don’t see the fallen branch on the ground until your foot catches on it, and you hurdle forward, putting your hands out to break the fall. 

But you never hit the ground, because the panic jolts you awake. 

This time you’re able to open your eyes, and it’s daylight out. Your clock says 7:03, twelve minutes before the alarm is supposed to go off and you have to get ready for school. 

When you sit up your brain pounds with a massive migraine that leaves you a bit nauseous. You wash your face in the sink like you do every morning, but today, you don’t see Jimin in the reflection with you. You bend over to rinse the cleanser off your face, and when you stand back up straight, you’re hit with a sudden wave a dizziness. Bile makes its way up your throat and you heave violently into the sink until it’s filled with thick, dark blood. 

When you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you see your mouth covered in red. You stumble back as a high pitched scream rings through your ears. 

Your mom rushes up the stairs and sticks her head in to the bathroom. “Is everything alright? Why did you scream?” 

You turn to face her. Can’t she see that your mouth is covered in blood? She’s not looking at you in horror, her concerned expression does not waver. When you glance back in the mirror, there’s no blood to be seen, and the sink is spotless as well. 

“Ye-yeah, Mom. I just…” you wrack your brain for an excuse, “thought I saw a spider. That’s all. Everything is fine.” But you can still taste the metallic tang on your tongue. 

When she leaves you look back in the mirror and Jimin stands in her place. You can feel his gaze piercing through the cloth over his eyes. 

With the blink of an eye he’s gone. 

Your life goes on like this for days, weeks. Everywhere you turn, he’s there, just barely on the edge of your vision. No one else seems to see him. He outside on the street, in your house, in your room. Yet, no matter how hard you try, you’re unable to look at him directly. You can’t sleep. You can barely eat. You can’t focus. 

You can’t stand it anymore. You need answers.

The Emerald Bay Library is old, much like all the other buildings in Emerald Bay. It’s been here for longer than even the oldest residents of the town can remember. Its shelves are filled mostly with novels from the previous century. No one knows where they came from. They seemingly just manifested one day. It’s part of the mystery of how this town came into existence.

After your volunteer shift, you tell Head Librarian Kim that you’re going to stay behind to do some research for a class project. He hands you the keys and tells you to lock up when you’re done without questioning you any further. The second he leaves, you head a computer to search the town archives. You look for journals, newspaper articles, anything that documents strange and inexplicable happenings. You write down some promising pieces along with their call number and set off to find them. 

When you turn the corner to head down one of the aisles, you can feel him. You look around you, seeing if you can find him lurking in the shadows. You don’t see anything, but his presence, the heaviness in the air, this thick, eerie feeling, is unmistakable. 

Shrugging it off, you scan the bookshelf for what you’re looking for. You trace your fingers over it’s spine, almost as old as the town itself.

The Mystery and Lore of Emerald Bay

You pluck the book from the shelf. It’s dusty, like it hadn't been touched in years. 

You wander over to the tables that sit in between the shelves and take a seat. The book’s leathery cover feels dry beneath your fingers. Stiff and crusty. Dust flies up toward your face as you open the book and flip through its yellowed pages, filled with handwritten and hand drawn accounts of unexplained phenomena that once sent the town into panic. 

The first is the chupacabra, from the time the town’s cattle were disappearing. Turns out it was just a resident who didn’t want to pay for beef at the local butcher shop and decided to take and slaughter them for himself.

Then the Emerald Bay Monster, which was quickly determined to merely be driftwood.

Along with a few other things that have since been solved by modern science. Things like poisonous mushrooms, lightning bugs, and fairy rings.

Finally, at the end of the book, you find what you’re looking for. 

The Man with No Eyes

You skim through the introduction and description of Jimin, then some eye witness accounts written by former residents of Emerald Bay, long dead from old age or maybe even something more sinister. Then you find what you’re looking for. 

Not much is known about this mysterious man, only that he kills. Some say that he is both immortal and invulnerable, making him impervious to any harm one might attempt to inflict upon him. However, there are rumors from the ancient times about this man. There have been no records of whether anyone has actually attempted these methods, however, the creature still stands, which is a testament to something. If one truly wants to know, legend has it that the only way to kill him is–

You’re about to turn the page only to find that the subsequent pages have been ripped out, and on the back cover, written in what appears to be blood, are the words: 

YOU  CAN’T KILL ME

You drop the book as soon as you see it.

You want to yell at him, to scream. But it’s hard to talk to something you can’t face directly. “What do you want? Why won’t you leave me alone?”

“I will be here until you give into me.”

You whip your head around, only to be met with dusty bookshelves and darkness. 

“Is this how you got the others to do it? By messing with their heads? Come out where I can see you!”

That’s when the bright, glowing figure steps out from the shadows and stands in front of you. His face is expressionless as he stares at you through the pitch black blindfold. 

“Do you think they just happened to go to the forest, just because you wanted to?” Jimin asks. “No, that was me, calling to them. And now I am calling to you. I have come to claim you. It is your time.”

You shake your head and stand your ground. 

“Come to me,” he beckons. 

“And what if I don’t?”

“Then I will choose someone else,” he answers plainly. 

“I don’t want someone else to die but I don’t want to die either!”

”Then don’t. You don’t have to die. Just come to me.”

“Why don’t you just leave me alone? Why don’t you leave all of us alone?”

“It’s not in my nature. My species feeds off of your energy, your sadness.”

“And if we don’t give it to you, you die?”

Jimin chuckles. “No, you can’t kill me that easily. I simply get angrier, more violent until I get what I want.”

When he smiles, you can see his teeth. Sharp, jagged. There are rows of them, like shark teeth. Your heart pounds in your chest. You take a step back, but Jimin is quick to step toward you. You take another step, but the backs of your legs hit the table. You quickly dart your eyes around the room, searching for an exit route. There are tables, chairs, and shelves in the way. The main entrance is on the other side of the library, and Jimin stands in the way of the emergency door. 

“There’s nowhere for you to run, Y/N. Because as fast as you run, I will always be faster.” 

“What happens when I give in?”

“You’ll find out.”

He removes his blindfold to reveal the brightest, most blinding light you have ever seen.

The same woman watches as her children play along the shore. a light breeze blows a crumpled piece of paper to her feet. she picks it up and reads it, sighing. 

MISSING PERSON Y/N Along with a photo your mom took of you two years ago. 

You’ve been missing for over two months now. Usually the bodies turn up within a couple of weeks. No one was brave enough to go into the forest to look for you. Not even Officer Strazzeri. Not even your mother. 

Maybe you weren’t taken. Maybe you were a lucky one. Maybe you were actually able to escape Emerald Bay onto bigger and better things. 

[solecize]

.  .  .  𝑩𝑨𝑳𝑨𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑼𝑺  (EPILOGUE) |

— — sometimes it’s the right person and the wrong time and place. you always thought that fate had more in store for you and jung jaehyun, but the college basketball player who once broke your heart and pieced it back together went missing for years on end after the crash of your relationship. now, you’ve put everything in the hands of fate.

note: not proofread of course this is probably shit bc its 4am also literally who the fuck asked for this to be so long lmao well, here it is. i originally wasn’t going to post this because i was satisfied with part twenty but clearly i wasn’t bc i added all of this lol and also everyone keeps asking for it 

MAY 27TH, 2022. 7:07 PM KST.

there was nothing you hated more than love songs.

they were lame, cheesy, and reminded you of your failed love life. however, since sooyoung never came to visit seoul, she insisted that she had full control of your apartment’s speakers for her short stay here. in fact, sooyoung made herself quite at home. johnny insisted that he would sleep on the couch and that she should take his bedroom, while she proceeded to redecorate yours. that included your closet.

“good lord, is this from high school? why don’t you own anything other than a variant of the same three colours? is this MINE?” sooyoung flung clothes left and right as she rummaged through your wardrobe. in the background, old ed sheeran slow dance-type songs was on full blast, leaving you in a puddle of irritation on your bed.

you snapped your head up to see sooyoung holding a red mini skirt that you vaguely remembered shoving beneath your workout clothes because you weren’t sure where to put it. “i dunno, probably.” you gave a half shrug.

she rolled her eyes and flung it into the pile that she’d been working on. “you have absolutely no formal clothing here. are you just going to show up to doyoung’s wedding in this stripper dress?” your friend of many, many years grumbled. “listen, i know it’s been a while since you’ve gotten laid, but. . .”

“ew, stop it.”

“am i wrong?” sooyoung cocked an eyebrow. “ever since you broke up with jaehyun, as far as i know and as far as lucas and i have gossiped, you have barely kept a relationship since.” 

the mention of your ex boyfriend left you having no choice but to hurl one of your throw pillows at sooyoung, aiming for her head, but she effectively ducked down in time. although it’d been quite some time since the split, you still weren’t comfortable talking about jaehyun. you’d casually dated here and there, but nothing really lasted longer than a month. you blamed it on school and dance and work, which were all genuinely busy for you, but it didn’t seem right.

you said, “god. don’t say it like that, it’s pathetic!” plain embarrassing, really. “it’s been, like, three years.”

that didn’t mean that the thoughts of jaehyun didn’t plague your mind from time to time. he’d sometimes creep up with your thoughts at night, keeping you tossing and turning for hours. you always figured that it was what life intended to happen, despite the fact that you were the one who voluntarily ended it.

after becoming an official couple during your freshman year, the two of you had a wonderful time together. however, it didn’t take long for reality to sink in when jaehyun’s graduation date was fast approaching. generally, it wasn’t supposed to be a problem, but then he revealed something to you that he himself admitted that he should’ve told you about far sooner. law school. you always figured that jaehyun would want to continue studying in seoul, where his family was and where his feet seemed to be permanently set. that was the beginning of the end and down came crashing the supposed plans that the two of you were supposed to have.

before meeting you, jaehyun planned to move back to america and attend law school there. he revealed that he never told you about it because he decided that he would stay in korea for you. obviously, you weren’t going to have any of that. it was his dream—and a hell of a hard dream to get into, you did your research—and there was no way in hell that you were going to let him give it up for you. 

“i’ll always need you” was what he told you before he left. it was never supposed to be the end and you thought that three years was nothing. looking back, it was definitely naive to assume that the sudden change of jaehyun’s position from across the city district to across the world wasn’t going to affect you.

you remembered the first signs of the relationship’s downfall. they were subtle and you couldn’t have possibly noticed them back them, however in retrospect, you truly should have. postponed upon postponed skype sessions, forgetting important dates, and of course, the arguments.  immaturity made the fights worse, a trait evident in him considering the nature of the bet, but you decided that he was bettering himself. you and jaehyun were fairly young and possessed equally destructive tempers. 

at the end of everything, after the summer of your life and the pitfalls that came with the autumn semester, you and jaehyun called it quits on valentine’s day. it was his birthday and a holiday of love, but the feeling was mutual. there was still love between the two of you, but it was decided that life had a different plan. sometimes, it was the right person, but the wrong time and place. from that point on, you lived life the way it was meant to be. 

the sound of the front door opening brought you back to reality. you hadn’t noticed, too busy reminiscing about your past, but sooyoung was delivering a tirade about your love life. there were bits and pieces that you caught onto, including how you “never put yourself first anymore” and how “ballet wasn’t going to put a ring on your finger,” but you chose to mute her out. thankfully, she stopped when she, too, heard the front door open. 

“johnny?” she called out, as she turned her music down from her phone.

a muffle acknowledgement could be heard and not even seconds later, johnny appeared at your bedroom doorway. he wore a sleek maroon suit and a matching tie, an outfit that was probably worth more than quadruple your rent. these days, johnny looked exhausted at home, yet still managed to find ways to mask his humanity while he was at work.

despite the fact that you lived with him in an average two bedroom apartment, he was still john seo, heir to some big shot insurance company and son to one of korea’s most renowned chefs. it was easy to forget, as you always saw him as just another brainless jock in college. things changed after johnny was left high and dry when sicheng left to further his modelling career, doyoung went to teachers’ college, and jaehyun disappeared to the other side of the world. the latter was what truly brought the two of you together.

for quite some time, you continued to hold a grudge against johnny for the idiotic bet that he commenced. it took some effort, but after deciding to get to know jaehyun all over again, you realized that you might as well show johnny the same kindness. you did so, and discovered that johnny was still the same goofy person that you thought you knew. he’d definitely grown a greater appreciation for you after you helped him with his injury that fateful night. sure, he was a little bit immature at times, but you saw that the end of his college career was what forced him to grow up. it was like reality had finally sunk in when all of his friends left and he had no choice but to uphold the promise he made to his father as a teenager and work for the family company. usually, he would have turned to jaehyun for comfort and hurt from the absence of his best friend. at the same time, you also felt the same way after he left and inevitably, the two of you turned to each other and thus, blossomed a deeper friendship with the man, more than you’d ever expected.

“i still can’t believe you willingly choose to live in this apartment with y/n instead of a big house like you can probably afford,” sooyoung said out of nowhere, eyeing his appearance.

you retorted, “there’s no fun in that.” it was true, johnny could probably move out at any second he wanted to. since sooyoung moved to france, the arrangement came naturally. he moved into the apartment that once belonged to lucas and sooyoung, then you and sooyoung, after lucas moved closer to campus. eventually it was just you, who could not pay the rent as one person, alone. two years later, the system was still in tact and johnny told you that he was never in a rush to move out, as he always thought it would feel lonely to live alone. 

you’d effectively had enough of sooyoung’s attempt at being a personal stylist and got up yourself, making your way to scour your closet for an outfit.

“don’t tell me you’re looking for something to wear to the wedding. there’s literally two days left.” johnny grimaced, looking around the room, where the floor could barely be seen due to scattered articles of clothing. “dude, you’ve had so many months to find a dress.”

sooyoung poked his chest. “not everybody owns two hundred different suits, jonathan.”

it wasn’t as much of a travesty as sooyoung made it out to be, but your closet did look pretty bad. there wasn’t exactly a myriad of options that screamed wedding, except for one or two dresses that you pictured better in your mind when you thought of options that you already owned. this was going to be a pain in the ass.

“can this wait, though?” johnny glanced past your head, at the clock on the wall above your dresser. “i’m going to go pick up sicheng at the airport. i’m assuming you want to come?”

you gasped dramatically. “my wedding date is here, of course i’m coming!” a grin stretched across your face.”

all of your friends were tragically single, even the rich and famous ones like sicheng and johnny. doyoung made a remark about how none of you were probably going to find a date to the wedding. with everyone digging deep into their inner smartass, you all paired up as dates for the elementary school teacher’s wedding. it was you and sicheng and johnny and sooyoung, while lucas insisted that he was going to be objecting to the marriage during the ceremony so that he could have doyoung to himself. 

at the end of the day, you were just happy to have all of your friends in one place at once.

DECEMBER 24TH, 2019. 10:49 PM KST.

distracted by the glimmering lights of christmas, you failed to do anything about jaehyun’s standoffish behaviour. since the holiday season kicked into full swing weeks ago, you were preoccupied with juggling the christmas ballet show, buying presents for your friends, and of course, school. now, you found yourself in the middle of johnny’s family’s penthouse in gangnam, sipping on a candy cane cocktail.

“what do you mean, you’re thinking about dropping out?” your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape, as sooyoung announced the news to your group of friends. your reaction wasn’t the worse one, however, as lucas literally choked on the gingerbread man he was eating.

beside you, doyoung patted lucas’ back, trying to get him to recover. “for good?” he eyed the female.

she shrugged carelessly. “yeah. i don’t think this is for me.”

“but, you only have a year left,” said sicheng, who seemed to appear out of nowhere. you even jumped at his voice, as you thought you last saw him across the living room talking to some fancy businessmen with johnny and jaehyun.

you surveyed that side of the room, where you saw johnny still in place. ever since graduation, he was thrown right into the world of his father’s insurance company. it surprised you just how robotic he could become in front of important people, as impressive as it was, yet was able to continue be as goofy as ever with you and your friends. it was a little disappointing to see that his own christmas party was full of business, even though sicheng and jaehyun flew out back for this short amount of time. jaehyun. swiftly, you noticed that he was also missing.

tapping sicheng’s arm, you inquired, “do you know where jaehyun went?” 

it wasn’t hard to recognize his change in attitude since landing in korea. you figured it might have had something to do with the fight that the two of you had right before he left, one not about anything particularly specific, but a build up of several issues arising over the months. nonetheless, after a while, the two of you seemed to settle the conflict mutually without actually  saying anything out loud.

the two of you fought so often because of your circumstances, but forgave just as easily because you loved each other too much to let things affect you. in the long run, it wasn’t going to be healthy. the two opposing ends were simply not meant to be cancelled out.

“hm? oh, i think he went out on the balcony, the one in johnny’s room.”

sooyoung was still busy explaining her sudden desire to travel the world and while you were very concerned with your friend’s spontaneity (and also the fact that if she dropped out, you would be roommate-less, as lucas moved out), you got up from your position on the couch. weaving through the crowd was easy enough and you strolled down the narrow hallway that johnny showed you earlier, where the bedrooms were located. you picked his out easily and knocked first, to no answer. as a result, you decided to just open it up.

the entire room was dim and you could barely see anything at all, despite the little light streaming in through the blinds. beyond was johnny’s balcony, illuminated by the sights of seoul and the luminosity of the skyscrapers along the city’s skyline. you could barely make out a figure leaning against the railing. 

it was jaehyun’s red jordans that gave him away. he flew in from pennsylvania without bringing any dress shoes and it was either these basketball shoes that he gave you before leaving—of course he gave you those—or the ugly vans that he’d been wearing during the whole trip back. you knew his broad shoulders and the way he always balanced his weight on his right leg and bent his left.

you approached slowly, but he somehow managed to hear you and took a glimpse over his shoulder. he smiled softly when he saw you and slid the balcony door open.

“hey,” he said, voice quieter than usual. “i thought you’d be enjoying the party.” jaehyun wrapped one arm around your shoulders.

“you’ve barely been around, jae.” you frowned. although the two of you arrived together, he always seemed to be off to the side alone, even with the few times johnny roped him into conversation with other people. “are you tired or something? we can go home if you want.”

at that, he only shrugged. “it’s whatever.”

you studied his expression intently, possibly for answers as to why he was acting so off. it was all the jaehyun had been doing lately, shrugging everything off and acting sluggishly. it was like someone who didn’t want to be here. this was the first time you’d finally taken notice of it.

he saw the way you were looking at him and leaned in to press a kiss against your forehead, as if to reassure you, but it felt empty. there was something floating in the air that didn’t want to be said, something that didn’t want to be touched. however, the two of you continued on with smiles and left for the party once again.

MAY 28TH, 2022. 2:11 PM KST.

jaehyun hated thinking about you and the way things ended with your relationship. you’d always told him that everything happened for a reason and the end of the two of you had one as well. he just always thought that there could’ve and should’ve been something done to prevent it. of course, jaehyun placed a lot of the guilt on himself and it took a while for him to realize that some things just aren’t meant to be. 

the male rarely came home anymore. in the past three years, other than the first christmas, he only flew over for his mother’s birthday, as well as his sister’s, both of which were conveniently during the same week. he spent the holidays alone, albeit with some of his newfound friends in america. meanwhile, his old ones rarely heard from him. jaehyun chatted scarcely with his former teammates here and there, mostly talking to johnny the most because of the latter’s persistence. hell, it took doyoung weeks to get ahold of jaehyun so that he could extend the invitation to his wedding. it was a big deal when jaehyun hopped on a plane back to seoul and that was precisely why he did not tell anybody other than doyoung and johnny.

home reminded him of you. his family moved away from seoul to a quieter town years ago and while seoul was his home territory, it was always going to be a city that belonged to the two of you. even just getting off the plane and taking a look around the airport, jaehyun remembered the exact spot that he said goodbye to you. it had been three years, but after supressing the emotions and memories for years, it all came flooding back to him. he tried to shove those feeling away yet again when he caught sight of a familiar friend at the arrivals gate.

“JAEHYUN!” doyoung had never hugged jaehyun so hard in his entire life before, the newly arrived male could literally feel the breath getting squeezed out of him.

seeing doyoung again was like reuniting with a brother. “holy fuck, it’s been way too long.” he gasped for air when he was finally released.

“did you get buffer, what the hell?”

“uh, are you about to get hitched, what the hell?” 

the only other thing that jaehyun could’ve asked for was the presence of their other friends. from what doyoung told him, johnny picked sicheng up from the airport the day prior, sooyoung flew in at the beginning of the week, and y/n wrestled lucas out of his apartment to go last minute shopping today. doyoung probably noticed the way jaehyun shifted uncomfortably at the mention of his ex girlfriend’s name, but didn’t say anything.

“i’m sorry i couldn’t have come earlier,” jaehyun said, i really wanted to come to the bachelor’s party, but i had my graduation ceremony earlier this week.” both men grinned, hearing about the bachelor’s party. of course, all the crazy shit that went down was relayed to jaehyun, including how lucas gave doyoung a lap dance, jungwoo broke an entire television, how johnny and taeil pushed doyoung into a pool full of hired dancers—everything. 

doyoung shrugged it off. “don’t worry about it, but hey! congrats! you did it, you’re basically a real lawyer now.” he nudged his friend playfully. “you’re going to be living comfortably there in america with that law degree under your belt.”

a lack of response came from jaehyun’s end, as the two men made their way to the pick up section, where doyoung’s fiancee was waiting for them in the car. jaehyun figured that his late arrival would just add to the element of surprise. they talked about wedding preparations, work, and more. 

they stepped outside, through the automatic sliding doors and the seoul sun hit jaehyun’s face without hesitation. he took a deep breath—this was home and he was finally here. for the most part, at least, this was home. now, he needed to find the missing part of it.

MAY 29TH, 2022. 9:20 PM KST.

the universe felt like everything in balance for the first time in forever. the spring of your first year of college was one that was for the history books and relieving that with all of your old friends around you made you feel nothing less than content. the ending notes of an usher song faded into another one, as you and your friends took your second round of shots at the bar.

“i’m so ready to get fucked up tonight!” lucas whooped and it made you happy; you had not seen him, for a lack of better words, so wild and free in a long time.

the volume of his yell and the proximity to taeyong’s ear caused your brother to wince harshly at the assault. you giggled at that, patting his arm with sympathy. similar to lucas, taeyong rarely found time to myself and to have fun. you thought it was nice of doyoung to also invite him, considering they spent four years of their lives swearing on each others’ names, even though they never actually knew each other. he also seemed to serve as lucas’ last minute date when he realized that it was probably best that he shouldn’t object to the marriage during the ceremony. (he still muttered it under his breath, though)

there were no other words to describe the reception other than ravishing, breathtaking, or simply just beautiful. the surrounding area was full of lush gardens and trees that had absolutely no business being in the middle of bustling seoul. twinkly lights hung from pole to pole, as the sounds of laughter and music filled your ears.

with that, lucas was dragged away by sooyoung to the middle of the dancefloor and doyoung left to attend to his new wife. this left you with taeyong and sicheng. it was an hour or so into the reception and you were not nearly as drunk as you wanted to be after an exhausting day, so you ordered a cocktail for yourself. 

looking briefly back at the pair after ordering, you noticed them having an oddly intense conversation. taeyong was making some peculiar hand gestures and it seemed like sicheng was agreeing profusely. you couldn’t be too sure over the blaring music.

“what’s going on?”

for whatever reason, it was as if they forgot that you were present and jumped. you caught taeyong eyeing something behind you, but before you could look, sicheng cut in.

“listen, y/n. i think you need to take a deep breath,” he suggested and that only made your suspicion grow even more.

abruptly, taeyong swore. you furrowed your eyebrows at that and turned your head. even lucas and sooyoung stopped dancing. you couldn’t make it out at first, but when you did, it was as if you saw a ghost.

clad in an all black suit without a tie and unsurprisingly, red jordans, was jung jaehyun. his hair was a natural black for the first time in the amount of time that you knew him. he had one hand shoved into his pocket. he made your stomach do backflips and tumbles and light your chest on fire. oxygen left your throat and you blinked the dizziness away. 

“that isn’t. .  .”

you always wondered what it would be like if you ever encountered jaehyun again, whether it would be in five years down the line, maybe ten, maybe even more. would it be in korea? an accident? an event like this? you didn’t expect jaehyun to show up in all honesty, as doyoung remarked dismissively that he hadn’t heard from jaehyun since you had. you wanted to say that you forgot he existed, which you admittedly did at times. however, since the arrival of all of your old friends, the memories began coming back to you. 

now, it was jaehyun who came back to you.

you were too focused on him to notice the female linking arms with him. you noticed her before, she was one of doyoung’s wife’s bridesmaids. she was pretty, probably around your age, but you weren’t sure exactly who she was. 

before you could jump to conclusions, she broke free of jaehyun’s arm and started making a beeline in your direction. your heart nearly stopped at this point, what the hell was happening? meanwhile, jaehyun was too busy being tackled with hugs by lucas and doyoung, with sicheng following suit. the woman stopped in front of you and taeyong, though her entire focus was set on him.

“hi, jinah.” taeyong said simply at the woman and you attempted to search every nook and cranny of your memory for that name.

she smiled warmly and the two of them sparked a conversation amongst themselves.

confused, you decided to slowly back out, grab your drink, and maybe take a breather elsewhere. there were paths that you took notice of earlier, ones that led deeper into the gorgeous gardens, and you figured that now was a better time than any to tour the area, even if you were alone. there was just no way you could face jung jaehyun now.

then, the starting piano notes to a hauntingly familiar song began to play. your lips parted in shock and you wondered if you were hearing correctly, this song that you left in your past. closing your eyes, you took in the first few lyrics of the song and realized that this was reality.

the dancefloor around jaehyun began to part for couples to take the spotlight, as everyone began to pair up.  he nearly tripped over his own two feet, having not heard the song in years. 

“by the way, she’s by the bar. i know you’re looking for her,” johnny said casually, taking a sip of his beer. 

jaehyun didn’t want to admit out loud that he was ‘looking for you,’ but you were definitely something that had been on his mind. he sat in the back during the ceremony, laying low with johnny, but he remembered what had happened to him when he saw you for the first time in three years. it was like everything fell apart and he forgot how to function. despite being apart for so long, you still managed to have that effect on him.

however, he didn’t go to you. he let the song that played during all of your late night roadtrips play without asking you for a dance. it wasn’t right and it was no longer his place.

MAY 29TH, 2022. 10:42 PM KST.

everyone had been pushing you all night to go and just fucking talk to jaehyun. you felt like a high school student who didn’t have the guts to confess to their crush, it was idiotic. thankfully, you’d yet to physically run into each other, mostly due to the fact that you were rotating between hiding behind sicheng and taeyong. mostly sicheng, due to the fact that taeyong was busy catching up with his own ex lover. how could he have the guts, but you didn’t?

you escaped for the nth time that night, trailing into the parking lot. after hours on heels, you eventually gave up on them and removed the shoes, opting to walk around barefoot. to the outsider, you probably looked crazy, walking back and forth without shoes on and muttering things to yourself.

“hi, jaehyun. how are you—how have you been? been?”

the clock was ticking fast. you needed to find a way to build up the courage and stop hiding from him and at least attempt to have a civil conversation. you weren’t even sure what you were afraid of in the first place (yes, you did.) were you scared that he wouldn’t want to talk to you? forget who you were? 

no, you were afraid that you would get sucked into those big, brown eyes and those dimples again. you afraid that you were going to lose yourself in his velvety smooth voice and his wits. you were afraid that you would fall for him again.

“i’ve been fine, thank you.”

this time, you legitimately fell, not for jaehyun, but because of him. he was standing right behind you and not for a second did you suspect any footsteps coming your way. for that, you toppled over and your body folded into one in pure shock. luckily, he was there to catch you before you fully fell down and steadied your body.

jaehyun widened his eyes. “shit, are you okay?”

“mmph. just tipsy.” you couldn’t even feel embarrassed, too engrossed in the feeling of pain from scraping your knee. 

his arms still remained around you even after you were back on two feet. jaehyun’s eyes trailed over your body, noticing that there was a slight dirt stain on your dress after tripping. he realized what he was doing and that it probably looked like he was checking you out, so he let go immediately.

you raised an eyebrow. “why are you here?”

“this is my sister’s car that you’re pacing in front of—i was just going to grab my phone charger.” 

“i think i need a break from here.” despite the fact that you’d been practicing for an hour to talk to jaehyun, words fell out of your mouth without any second thought. it was all natural and you spoke to him like no time had passed since the last time you saw him all those years ago.

jaehyun paused, seemingly lost in his thoughts for a few moments. he looked back at the party, then back to you. you noted that he was debating about something in his head, without a doubt.

he suggested, “so, let’s go for a drive, then?” the statement caught you off guard, as you watched jaehyun unlocked the car doors. “like old times. it always made you feel better.”

there was no denying that. you weren’t sure what you expected for this reencounter with jaehyun. despite constantly imagining it, this wasn’t exactly the way you thought it was going to go. 

“have you been drinking?” you asked, not wanting to risk anything.

jaehyun smiled. “no. i drove jinah here and i’ll be taking her back.” 

you looked back the party yourself, wondering if it would cause any trouble if you left for an hour or so. probably not. you took a deep breath and decided to throw caution to the wind. there couldn’t have been anything wrong with going for a drive with jaehyun, you’d done so a million times during your whirlwind relationship. 

getting into the passenger seat, you glanced over and saw that jaehyun was beginning to charge his phone. he turned on the screen and appearing as if he was about to open up his spotify, you immediately snatched his phone away. for a second, you thought he might have been angered from the gesture, as it was one you did automatically like you used to, but he simply chuckled and failed to even protest. you turned on one of your own playlists.

“why didn’t you say that you were coming?”

“we haven’t spoken in a while, y/n,” responded jaehyun, as he looked down at his two feet. “and that’s mostly because of me. i wasn’t sure if you even wanted to hear anything from me.”

he began to reverse out of the parking spot, as meticulous as ever. the windows rolled down halfway on either sides and the street lamp light shone against his skin. it was a sight that you thought you’d never see again.

“i thought i never would,” you admitted, wondering why you were never the one to reach out first. “it’s stupid.”

“things get stupid,” jaehyun shrugged.

the two of you took your old route around the city. for an hour, the two of you caught up on what exactly had been going on in your lives for the past three years. you discovered that jaehyun lived alone, but had a cat named pepper. he has two good friends in america, both fellow law school students, but they’re going to be practicing in new york. he showed up to his graduation late, just like he did three years ago. he wasn’t the top of his class, but he was a decent suck up to his professors. he got a part time job at the local zoo. jaehyun hadn’t gotten into a serious relationship, only dated casually like you had. he started playing a bit of american football, but his true love was always going to be basketball. his dad was proud of who his son was, even after throwing away national victory.

the old ice cream spot that you used to go to late at night closed down sometime in the past three years. it was disappointing, but the two of you got greasy street food instead and it was just as good. you didn’t want to insult doyoung on his wedding day, but the food was pretty shitty and this was just what you needed.

“i just find it so weird that this is how everyone turned out after all this time,” jaehyun remarked, as the two of you returned to the venue. it had been quite some time since leaving, but the party was still in full swing.

you nodded. “you think everyone’s happy?”

“johnny? no, but he will be someday. lucas is definitely stressed as hell,” he chuckled a bit. “sicheng is. sooyoung is still finding herself. i think we’re all a little bit here, there, and in between and that’s okay. we have time.”

“are you happy in america?” you asked, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“i am, but i’ll be even happier in korea.”

“what?”

before he could answer, a swarm of individuals collided with the two of you. it was everyone, some greeting you, others questioning where the two of you have been, while others, namely lucas, nagged for you to join them at the bar or on the dancefloor. you’d just sobered up, so you opted to join johnny and sicheng on the dancefloor to the voices of old school girls generation and jaehyun was unwillingly whisked away to the bar by lucas.

MAY 30TH, 2022. 12:56 AM KST.

there were just a few more minutes until the music was to stop playing for the reception and all of the guests were to be sent home. you spent the last while mostly with sicheng and sooyoung, as you knew they were the first ones you’d have to say goodbye to when everything was over. however, there was one more person that you needed to see and that was jaehyun. thankfully, he made a magical reappearance just in time for the last dance.

the sappy love song was a special request made by a very single johnny, who drunk slow danced with lucas in the middle of the floor. you were sitting at your table, taking a break from your devil shoes and talking with sooyoung when jaehyun strode over. you bit your lip, having noticed him started to make his way from your peripheral vision and mentally tried to prepare yourself.

“sorry to interrupt,” jaehyun said, “but i’d really like a dance, y/n.”

“she’s all yours,” sooyoung answered before you could, a smirk pressed on her lips. 

you stifled a laugh a her and got onto your feet, slipping the heels on and grimacing at the feeling. jaehyun helped steady you for the second time that night and you thanked him quietly, as he led you onto the dance floor.

something in you wished that he asked you to dance with him earlier, but this song was just as warm and fuzzy. they were about, simply put, love and the purity of it. jaehyun slid his arms around your waist and you placed your hands on his shoulders like it was an instinct.

all of a sudden, he said, “i wish things ended up differently.”

“jaehyun. .  .”

“doesn’t it feel like nothing’s changed?” jaehyun asked, taking his finger and pulling your chin up, so that he could meet your eyes. “it’s been, what, three years? you can’t tell me that it doesn’t feel like it.”

you cocked an eyebrow at him. “what are you trying to say?”

the feeling of stares burning into the back of your head was overwhelming. you were certain that all of your friends were watching the two of you, but you didn’t even care.

“i know we said that it was life that made things go wrong with us, but we can’t just blame that. it was us, too, you know.”

jaehyun nodded, eyes closed. “things started to feel empty when we stopped putting in the effort. that didn’t mean that i didn’t love you.”

“did you, though? shouldn’t you have put in the effort to show it?” you countered. it wasn’t like you wanted to argue with him, but the emotions were starting to spill out when you hadn’t been able to talk about this with him or anyone for years. “and don’t get me wrong, i can say the same for myself.”

“we were immature and we were taking everything so fast. we told each other that we’d get married after four months of dating,” he pointed out and you couldn’t help but reminisce about it, the feeling of young and stupid love that you felt for each other.

you let out a long sigh, placing your head on his chest to hide your frustrated expression. it was happening, the one thing that you were afraid of. you couldn’t afford to get lost in jung jaehyun and his pretty dimples and smooth talk again. 

you said, “can we please not do this? it’s not going to end well.”

“why? because that’s the way life dealt our cards?” jaehyun retorted. “it’s not that deep, we were separated by distance, so what? that wasn’t the problem.”

“then, what was it?” you asked.

jaehyun ran a hand through his messy, dark hair. “alright. you know what my dad told me during nationals in my last year?”

“oh, the nationals that you willingly lost? yeah, i remember it vaguely, nothing too special.”

he playfully poked your side, causing you to squeal and also turn some heads around the two of you. “shut up. yes, that one. he told me that there are two ways to play the game of basketball. you could either play it as it is, as the game flows and how it’s expected to be played by logic and precedent. then, there’s the way where you take control and ignore all other circumstances in order to focus on your goal.”

“god, nobody other than you would compare our relationship to basketball,” you laughed and so did he.

“fine, i guess i should just skip to the part where i tell you i’m staying in korea to shut your sarcastic ass up.”

“wait, what?” you stopped in your swaying movements, completely frozen at the news. “you’re. . .what?”

jaehyun grinned and pushed some of your hair out of your eyes. “i'm going to be working here. i have an articling job lined up already and from there, i’m going to build my career here in seoul.”

“b-but, i thought you were going to stay in—”

“i thought a little bit of risk taking was needed in my life. it was nice and it would probably be easier to start off there, but i think it’s time i take control. i took too much time blaming our circumstances and not doing anything about it. if i stayed in america where i knew that i wouldn’t be as happy as i would be here, but stayed because it was easier, it would be just like the unhappiness i felt after we ended things,” jaehyun said.

you nodded. “i’m sorry. i was like that, too.”

jaehyun shook his head, a small smile still playing on his lips. “it’s all in the past.” he said, “and since i’m back here permanently, i figured a good way to start my new life here was to steal my ex girlfriend’s heart again.”

it turned out that you didn’t need to fall back in love with jaehyun because like the two of you said before, the love was always going to be there. love is sweeter the second time around, even when the fates don’t exactly line up perfectly for you. that’s when you capture your own destiny. jaehyun was with you and he was finally home.

jaehyun & y/n’s song: my thoughts on you by the band camino the last dance song: all my life by wild

tag list: @i-hate-these-people​ @glitterystanz​ @jkuwus​ @jenojae  @csillagosegnelkul​ @imtaehyungry​ @theloouiisee​ @ikonictaelien​ @knisterlicht​ @seungkwanismyaesthetic​ @jaemingold​ @xysabella​ @sua246​ @ireallyjustneedcoffee​ @p-platonica​ @just-a-dream-40​ @fuckthatfeeling​   @sehunights​ @xjinyoungiee

[deepdaleducks]

Bad Day/Good Day

This is dedicated to our girl @forza-atleti It seems like she’s had a rough day so I thought she could use some Jesse love. Everyone go send her love because she treats us so well. Oh and listen to this song bc I love it ❤❤

He senses it as soon as you come through the door. Bag dropped angrily on the floor, shoes left out in the hallway. He senses it because he knows you. Because he was there when you were teenagers and you would fight with your parents. Because he was there when you failed your driving test after a car cut you up. Because he’s been there for years. And so he just knows its been a bad day by the way you don’t bother to call out his name to announce your return home. The way you pad straight to the kitchen and flick on the kettle with more force than necessary. The way you don’t make a sound as you stare out the kitchen window blankly.

He knows not to press you, not to ask. Instead, he creeps upstairs, pulls your favourite hoodie and sweats from his wardrobe, and places them on the counter beside you in silence. He watches as you pour the water in the mug and add a splash of milk. Watches as you take off your work clothes and throw them in a heap on the floor next to the utility door. Watches you stand there in your underwear in the middle of the kitchen, dragging your hands over your face in frustration.

And he stops himself. Stops himself from pulling you into his arms. Stops himself from telling you how beautiful you are. How he would kiss every inch of your skin given the chance. How he would love you the way you deserve to be loved. He falters when you look at him, hair cascading over your face, his hoodie in your hands, a simple “stop looking at me like that” falling from your lips.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asks cautiously, his sweats now comfortably sitting on your hips, hoodie drowning your torso.

“No” You reply, sipping from your tea. And he lets a silence fall for a while as he sits across from you at the breakfast bar. He doesn’t pressure you or ask any more questions. He just takes in your movements. Takes note of the way your hands hold the mug. How your lips curl up at the warmth of your drink. How you move across the room to put the milk back in the fridge.

“That dickhead at work was giving me shit all day.” He hears you say into the fridge. “God, my mother wasn’t half right when she said you shouldn’t get romantically involved with co-workers, or friends for that matter.” You don’t see the way his face falls when you say the words. “I just wish I had never slept with him, yknow? Like we were friends and it was great. Then I had to go fucking sleep with him. And now everything’s a mess because we’re not sleeping together anymore. He’s being such a shit about it.” He lets you ramble away, pacing round the kitchen grabbing a plate and snacks. “Maybe I should just start sleeping with him again.”

“No, don’t do that” He says quickly. Almost too quickly. So he continues before you can notice. Before you interpret his words the way he means them. “I mean you said yourself you shouldn’t get romantically involved with co-workers. Surely sleeping with him again would just make things more complicated than they already are.”

“Yeah I guess you’re right.” You say, looking at him as he looks at you a little differently to normal. “Oh and you know to top it all off? I’m pretty certain I’m gonna get sacked.”

He slams his hand down on the counter in shock. “What? How can they sack you? You’re like the back bone of that place.”

“I don’t know. I’m just not getting the best vibe from the bosses. They’re on my back for not doing my job properly when I’m doing the best I can. I’ve been working double time since the other manager quit, so I’m spread thin as it is. I think I might just quit before they get the chance to fire me, just so I have the satisfaction of walking away.” You muse, swirling your tea around the mug.

“What are you gonna do?” He mumbles. He’s worried. Worried you’ll leave. Worried all this will end. The living together. The coming home to each other.

“I have no idea. Maybe I should just go live with my parents for a bit. Get some space from it all.” The words shatter him. All his worst fears coming true as you speak.

“What and just leave me to live alone?” He says, trying to make it seem like a joke.

“Not like you can’t afford to live alone like, Jess.” He follows you as you walk into the living room, slouching on the couch beside you.

“Yeah but I don’t live alone because I can’t afford it. I don’t live alone because I like to live with you.” Because I love you, he omits.

“So, I stay. Then what? I’m unemployed. If I go home, I can just work for my dad for a bit before I find something else.” It’s not a solid plan, but it’s a plan, nonetheless. It would mean going against everything you had wanted. It would mean moving out of Manchester. It would mean not seeing Jesse every day.

“And just admit defeat? Do you seriously think I’m going to let you do that? You’re my best friend and you’re crazy if you think I’m going to let you give up that easily.” He says, reaching out a hand to hold yours in support. His eyes warm yours, causing them to light up a little for the first time all day.

“Thanks, Jess.” You reply, telling him you’re going to head upstairs and shower off the day.

When you return, you find him in the kitchen. He’s cooking your favourite meal, the one your mother always makes. He asked her for the recipe once. Calling her in his free time on a Wednesday. Going round to her house on the Sunday to learn her methods. It’s the one thing he knows how to cook, and he only does it occasionally. Whenever you’ve had a bad day or you’re feeling under the weather. He knows that you love it. He knows that it means the world to you.

He plates it up on the fancy china, the stuff exclusively reserved for when your parents visit, and lights a candle on the centre of the table. Low acoustic music coming through the speakers, you sit and eat together, shared bottle of wine and pepper grinder between you. You eat in silence, speaking sporadically to compliment him on the food.

“You know, if you’re worried about finding work, I can put in a word for you at United.” He mutters across the table. He’s suggested it at several times in the past. Every time you would come home complaining about your job, he’d say ‘just quit, I can get you a job at United’. And you would say ‘no, I can’t just take a job that you get me because of who you are, I have to earn it.’ He would argue that that isn’t how it would look. That you would get the job on your merit, on your abilities, and not just because you were his best friend. But you were far too worried about what people would say, what people would think, to let him do it.

“Jess, thanks for offering, but you know what the press were saying when we started living together. I don’t need all my mother’s friends from book club reading that I got my new job because I’m sleeping with one of the players.” Your words shut him up and he clears his throat nervously. In response, you lower your eye line, focusing on your plate. “Imagine how funny that would be. Everyone in my hometown thinking I’m sleeping with you.” And you don’t realise the venom in your words as you say them. You don’t think about how untrue they are. How much hurt they’re going to cause them. And you panic as he responds.

“Would that really be so terrible?” He follows with a scrape of his chair against the tiles. He empties the rest of his plate into the bin, washing it under the tap quickly.

“You know what I mean, Jesse.” He notices your use of his full name. Exclusively saved for serious situations. For when you’re angry at him or when you’re begging for forgiveness. For when he’s getting himself down or when you’re tired after a long day.

“No I don’t.” He says bitterly. Pushing past you to head back to the living room. He hears your feet follow his, but he doesn’t turn around. He throws his body on the couch and reaches for the remote, ignoring you the way you’re now ignoring your dinner, all your attention on him.

“God, you do. We’re best friends. We live together. Sleeping together would just make things awkward between us.” You try to get him to agree, to see your point of view but he doesn’t. He focuses on the television in front of him, some nonsense show playing that you know he has no interest in.

“That’s not what you said though. You weren’t talking about how it would be for us. You were talking about how everyone else would see it.” He keeps his eyes forward, face expressionless.

It clicks inside your head. Earlier he quickly told you not to start sleeping with your colleague again. He told you not to go back to your parent’s house. He told you to stay with him. And now he’s upset that you joked about sleeping with him.

You’re flashing back to so many moments throughout your friendship. The time he was your date to your brother’s wedding and your grandma commented on how much of a wonderful couple you were. His face when you had said, “no grandma, we’re not a couple, we’re just friends”. The first time he woke up to find your colleague in your kitchen on a Tuesday morning and all the times after that. His snide comments and lack of ability to make anyone but himself a brew despite there being three of you in the kitchen. The time you both got drunk at Marcus’ birthday and got a little too close in the taxi home. The morning after when he woke up and could barely look at you, your lips a little sensitive and your missing memories of how you got home. All the pieces fall together.

“Jesse, will you just look at me.” You demand reaching out for his hand to get his attention. He flinches slightly at your touch. Slowly, he turns his head to look at you, eyes sad and low and never fully meeting yours. “Do you love me?” You ask, stumbling over your words slightly.

“’Course I love you.” He replies. You know he’s not saying it the way you mean. You know he’s still got his defences up.

“Okay, let me reword that. Are you in love with me?” Rather than answer, he stands abruptly and walks out of the room, leaving you with the thoughts flying round your brain. His departure only causes more questions. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe you had misinterpreted everything completely wrong. You hear him rummaging around upstairs and shortly after he re-enters the room, a small envelope in his hand. He hands it to you, telling you to read it, before he leaves again. You tear open the envelope, a folded piece of paper inside it. You unfold it tentatively, terrified of how these actions could change everything.

  I hope one day you’re reading this. Because if you’re reading this it means that things are changing. Or that they have changed. And I hope that that is good.

Last night wasn’t the first time I have looked at you and thought that you were everything I have ever wanted. But it was the first time I knew I wanted to do something about it. A bit of liquid courage at Marcus’ birthday and I was going to tell you. You were there on the dance floor, red dress, hair curled, no cares in the world and I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

I didn’t even have to say anything. You looked at me in the taxi and said it all for me. “I’m gonna marry you some day, Jess. You’re just so perfect aren’t you. I’m so in love with you.” And you kissed me like you never wanted to stop.

I was so happy. I thought that was it. And then I woke up today and you say you were so drunk you don’t even remember coming home. And I know you’re not lying because you couldn’t even find your shoes, even though you took them off and put them in your wardrobe like you always do.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m in love with you. And I’m also sort of mad at you because you’re not seeing that. I’ve always been in love with you and I always will be. I’m in love with all the things you say are flaws and all the lines on your face and freckles on your body. I’m in love with you despite the fact you’re possibly the world’s messiest roommate. I’m in love with the fact that you’re my best friend.

I don’t know when you’re going to read this. You may never read this. But I guess if you don’t its because I care so much about being your best friend that I don’t want to sacrifice that for something so stupid as being in love with you.

But if you’re reading this, I’m hoping it’s because I’m asking you to please be in love with me too.

  His hand writing is messy, but it’s perfect. You find him outside, can of beer in his hand from the fridge. He’s leaning against the wall, staring out across the garden.

“You’re a liar,” you whisper, his head whipping up to look at you. You wave the letter at him. “You said you don’t want to sacrifice our friendship because you’re in love with me. You just did.”

“Oh right,” he mumbles. He’s disappointed. Disappointed that your first words to him weren’t ‘I’m in love with you too’. Disappointed that you’re not currently in his arms, lips finally together again. Disappointed that things didn’t go the way he had expected, the way he’d dreamed about.

You remain in the doorway, hesitant to move closer to him. “Why now?” You question, eyeing him carefully. “I wore a red dress to Marcus’ birthday two years ago. You’ve had this since then so why give it to me now?” A million thoughts were racing around your brain. The confirmation that you had kissed him clearing years’ worth of worry and confusion. He was angry and distant because you had forgotten – not because you had kissed him in the first place. All the feelings you had hidden and pushed down suddenly bubbling up within you.

“You said you were gonna leave. I was scared. I don’t want you to leave.” He confesses, stepping a little closer to you.

“I’m not gonna leave, Jess. I’m never gonna leave.” And with that you fold into his arms, his warmth cancelling out the chill coming up through your bare feet on the cold patio tiles. He holds you like that for a while, breathing in your scent, scared to let you go and face what he’s confessed.

He feels you pull back and he flinches, worried of what happens now. He’s reassured by your hands cupping either side of his cheeks, as his rest on your waist lightly. “I think” you start, his eyes searching yours for more, for confirmation that his world is not going to crumble around him. “I think I might be in love with you too.” His face erupts in a smile, that same childish grin that made you kiss him in that taxi all those years ago.

“Good,” he says certainly, leaning in to lock his lips with yours once more. He’s known how to deal with you on your bad days for years. How to make you laugh when you’re close to crying. How to rationally talk you down from any ledge you found yourself on. He knows because he’s seen it all play out over the years. He’s been there through the good and the bad. And he promises himself in that moment, you tangled up in his arms, lips pressed against his, that he’s going to be there throughout all the good and the bad even when your hair is grey and you’re both cooped up in a retirement home.

And you know that he’s always going to be able to make your bad days good with just the simplest of “I love you’s”.

Author’s Note - I kinda wrote this spontaneously tonight so there was no planning involved. If you think its crappy and doesn’t make sense that’s cool. Slow Burn 6 (the finale) will be coming out next weekend so keep an eye our for that (this isnt realted to slow burn its just a one of piece i wrote for chlo)

Hope you enjoy let me know what you think x 

[lenin-it-to-win-it]

just gonna rant about my health issues to no one in particular for a bit under the cut sooo

im just so fucking tired of being sick all the time like. its been almost 2 years now of actively Going To Doctors And Having Tests Done And Trying To Get A Diagnosis and fucking!!! nothing works!!! and i only have until the end of this coming school year to get it figured out before my insurance runs out otherwise im just fucked!!! because im sure as hell not gonna be able to afford a fucking mri every six months making 10 bucks an hour at some retail shithole but so far ive seen SIX different fucking doctors (not counting 2 ER visits) because they all just keep shuffling me back and forth like “idk maybe have someone else deal with this? weird lol” or like “have you considered that maybe you might have anxiety :) you seem stressed :)” 

like yeah its a fucking stressful situation getting progressively fucking sicker for two goddamn years wasting thousands of dollars and reaching the end of a fucking ticking clock because almost every doctor ive seen is an incompetent jackass who does NOTHING but waste my time and money and then fucking condescend to me about anxiety like!!! yeah i probably DO have anxiety and depression and autism and what the fuck ever else but this isnt THAT 

and the literal ONE TIME i had ANY treatment that worked AT ALL helping with my eye spasms (literally One of Many Symptoms that i deal with on a fucking daily basis that still manages to completely fuck up my life) is something i cant take anymore because it damaged my fucking eyes!!! possibly permanently!!! i already HAD issues wtih light sensitivity that this medicine made WAYYY fucking worse and guess whats one of the WORST things at setting off my eye spasms??? anything to do with fucking light so YEAH thANKS for that @ the opthalmologist who had me take those damn eye drops for two months straight, which other neuro opthalmologist said was bullshit when i saw her again, not that im letting HER off the hook either since she REFERRED me to that incompetent bitch in the first place and then had NO solution other than “hm well you definitely shouldnt take that medicine again, but theres literally No Other Treatment, maybe blow another $400 in a few months to come see me again so i can continue to Not Help You In Any Way”

and its getting wORSE ALL THE TIME!!! and the best thing doctors can think of is “hm well maybe wait a bit to see if it gets worse? and maybe then we’ll know what it is?” well its getting worse!!!! but they still dont seem to know what it is!!! like at first it was just my vision going out of focus for a few seconds at a time, then it was a few minutes, then i was having visual distortion (or maybe hallucinations? who knows! certainly not any of the fucking doctors ive seen!), then awful fucking eye strain headaches, then spasms in my neck, then my jaw, then my arms, then my legs, now all fucking over, and now i get sick and dizzy just by moving my HEAD too far or too suddenly and like at work earlier today i was just stumbling around for two hours bc there was too much pressure in my head and everything felt tilted and i was just grabbing at every surface trying not to fall with my head like on my shoulder bc keeping my neck straight was too fucking hard and i swear to fuckign god a couple nights ago there was this weird buzzing on the side of my face??? and like it felt like my mouth was moving slower than it should??? but i dont even KNOW if thats a Real SymptomTM or if i was just freaked out and tired and imagining things or if i really am just getting to be a paranoid delusional nutcase about my health because every little thing terrifies me at this point, like ive been coughing for a couple weeks and instead of being like “oh its a bad cold” im like “maybe now my immune systems fucked up too maybe this is A New Symptom” i literally cant tell anymore i have no fucking idea 

and i dont WANT to think about all this All The Fucking Time but i do!!!!! i literally HAVE to bc it affects my life in every fucking possible way and i cant escape it like even rn the light from the fuckign computer is hurting my eyes and i cant even see what im typing half the time bc my eyes keep going out of focus and my teeth keep chattering and my head hurts or ill go to get a drink of water but then just Stand there for a few minutes bc i dont trust myself to hold a cup full of water and not spill it bc im having spasms or ill have to wear sunglasses at the dinner table bc my fucking idiot asshole dad got the BRIGHTEST possible lightbulbs for the dining room and i physically cant stand them 

or like im already dreading having to explain all this shit to my professors this semester about how like “oh so i probably wont be able to keep up with daily readings, especialyl not if theyre on physical paper and i cant scale up the text because my eyes just spontaneously stop working and i cant read..... and ill need a computer to take notes, i can Usually hold a pencil but one time i had a spasm in class and flung it across the room and it was super embarrassing and i ltierally skipped that class for weeks because of it so id really rather not deal with that again.... and even though im a fuckign AMAZING public speaker like, state champion debate level public speaking, ill still probably get super fucking nervous and suck at any kind of in class presentation bc ill just be thinking about my spasms the whole time and wont be able to focus....... and ill have to wear sunglasses all the time too so hopefully thats not an issue........ and also ill probably miss a lot of class bc whether or not i can handle walking half a mile Varies Wildly from day to day and also i have a lot of doctors appointments and sometimes im on medicine that completely ruins my sleep schedule so you know... looking forward to a great semester, hope i dont completely fail your class” 

and i have fuckign work tomorrow where ill have to deal with trying to pretend like even the most minor tasks arent painful and difficult and deal with awful btichy entitled customers complaining that im not SMILEY enough for you like the motherfucker who asked me how i was and i said fine and he was like “jUuUUuuuST fINE” like shut the everlasting FUCK UP with that ive met my obligation leave me ALONE my day isnt FINE im in awful pain and i HATE you and everyone like you or ill have to deal with my coworkers giving me weird looks while im having spasms or outright MOCKING me for them like the asshole that called me TWITCH (and a whore, but thats Another Fucking Story) or just not knowing how to deal and making bad taste jokes like when my teeth are chattering bc I Physically Cant Make It Stop like “haha are you chewing an invisible piece of gum lol” like no bitch im a neurological nightmare and my brain doesnt work and im Barely Holding Together would you PLEASE shut the fuck up 

and most of the time i just feel like everyone thinks im a fucking freak like even just sitting in the waiting room to see the neurologist or opthalmologist or whatever and everyone else there is Old and im the only person even remotely close to my age there and even the doctors dont seem to take me that seriously bc of it like “oh shes young, cant be that bad, all these old people out here are gonna die like tomorrow so why worry about this girl, its probably just anxiety from being on her period or having a test to study for lol” like straight up when the movement disorder neurologist was examining me she was like “im not used to seeing anyone this young or healthy’ and i know she meant it relatively speaking but like!!! clearly im NOT healthy or i wouldnt BE here like obviously something is wrong with me and its ruining my life and its serious and id like it fixed thanks!!!!! 

and i feel like No One Gets It like, obviously there are people wayyyy sicker than i am who suffer a lot more or people in similar situations but like. i dont Personally Know someone like that i can just talk to and like, of course i have friends who can Listen but.................................. theres a difference from being able to listen and being able to actually Understand and sometimes you just cant Get It unless youve gone through it like i really dont think ANYONE in my life has any idea how serious this is or how much it affects me and i know i cant expect everyone to just Always Think Of My IssuesTM but little things!!! like maybe NOT having the brighest possible lightbulbs in the dining room!!!! my brother NOT having his birthday party at dave and busters, which i had TONS of spasms at last time i went (and im even worse now!) AND the staff gave me shit about wearing sunglasses so now im nervous about That too or just! idk! people respecting and listening to me when i tell them that i Cant Do Something or that Doing That Thing Hurts and not just brushing me off or telling me im overreacting and then getting all shocked pikachu face when their dumbassery actually physically HURTS me and i get pissed with them for it!!!!

i dont think anyone gets how much it scares me all the time or how its Always on my mind and i literally cant think about anything else like. this could be the rest of my life. this could end my life. i dont know what i have. i might get diagnosed in the next month and have it completely cured, i might get a diagnosis and still be sick forever, i might not find out until its too late and i have LITERALLY NO FUCKING IDEA WHICH ONE!!!! ITS GREAT!!!!!!!! WELCOME TO MY LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!